#chris evans fic

[chxrryhansen]

𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐁𝐎𝐌𝐁 𝐀𝐔

Pairing; Dark!Club Owner Ari x Shy!Reader

Warnings; dark themes, unbalanced power dynamic, daddy kink, no smut in this part but as usual Minors Please DNI!!

Summary; You knew it was a bad idea showing up to the most notorious club in the city, but it’s your best friend’s birthday and you can’t say no, right? So, what happens when the owner himself, Ari Levinson, spots you at the bar, claiming you as his own from the moment he laid eyes on you.

It’s finally here! The first instalment of my very first series, apologies for no smut but i promise the next part will be very smutty to make up for it 👀 bare in mind this is just the introduction!!! please don’t be afraid to ask questions and remember to reblog and comment💗 i love to hear your guys feedback!

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐

You climb out of the uber, reaching to pull the hem of your dress down as you and your friends stumble towards the club.

You had finally agreed to try out the biggest club in the city, "Cherry Bomb.” Since it was your best friend Sarah's birthday your group decided it was only fair she could choose which clubs you were going to tour for the night. You had been putting it off ever since the opening night a few months ago, the reputation not being something you had particularly wished to be involved with.

All you knew was bad things happened there, and from what you had heard the owners, Ari Levinson and Lloyd Hansen, two brothers in arms, were so cruel and unforgiving that even the richest men in the city dared not to step foot in the place, and those who did shortly regretted it. Their names were known around the streets, the most notorious club owners to exist, 70% of clubs in the city all belonging to them, more money under their belt than the government itself.

An incident a few weeks back had became the talk of the town, according to Sarah a well known patron had gotten a little handsy with one of the clubs dancers and when he was given a warning to back off, he refused. Claiming he spent enough money in the club grounds to do as he pleased, including groping innocent dancers without permission.

Long story short the bouncers ended up forcibly removing the man, cussing and struggling on his way out of course, you know, the usual druken male rage and feeling of entitlement. Seemed like a pretty convenient coincidense that the exact same night the man was found beaten to a bloody pulp in a back alley, his face practically unrecognisible.

It wasn't long before the 'rumour' was quickly snuffed out. They were good at that, making things.. people, dissapear. Almost as if it never happened... as if they never exhisted.

Now that you were standing infront of it, you couldn't deny, it was beautiful. Even from the outside, the bright neon sign glowing in the moonlight, multiple bouncers blocking the large glass stained doors, making sure to check each persons id before unhooking the stanchion, allowing said persons entry. The queue seeming endless.

Lucky for you, your friends had been gifted VIP tickets, you didn't even bother to ask who they got those from, or how. You didn't want to know. You flashed your id at the pretty bouncer, his buzzed hair, large muscles and stern face making it quite obvious as to why he had the job he did.

You bounced your foot as he scanned over your card before opening the barrier and letting you inside. Sarah was quick to grip each of your hands, practically dragging you inside once you began to hesitate, not wanting you to change your mind so soon.

"Come on, babe, let's get those sweet legs moving!" Sarah hollers from ahead, her hand intertwined with your own as the rest of the girls hurried towards a booth.

"I-I don't know if this is a good idea, Sare.." you mumbled, fiddling with your fingers as she tugged you towards your friends and giving you a slight nudge into the cushioned seats, the red velvet material instantly soothing your hot thighs as you sat.

She reached down, holding your cheeks in both hands and facing you towards herself, sliding into the booth next to you "Listen, i know you're worried and if it makes you feel better i promise we can leave and go somewhere else, but just give it a try, please...for me?" she pleaded, giving you her famous puppy dog eyes.

"You know i can't resist that face." you whined as she cheered.

As you slowly got more drunk you began to forget why you didn't want to visit. The atmosphere was astronomical, the whole club being fit for royalty. The girls hooted and hollered as you trotted off towards the bar on your way to buy in a round of drinks. You waited at the bar with your card in hand but as you went to hand it over to the bartender he paused you.

“It’s on the house.” he says while he wipes down the bar with a rag, a smile on his face. He was handsome in all fairness, standing at around 6'2, his bright blonde locks and pretty blue eyes causing you to pause for a moment before giving him a puzzled look, tilting your head sideways.

“Is it a nightly special or something? I didn’t see anything about free drinks on the poster outside…” you begin yet he’s already scuttling off to take another couples order, shooting you a sly smile over his shoulder. Leaving you even more confused than before.

You slowly reach for the tray of shots when you feel a large hand on your shoulder, causing you to spin around in shock, ready to fight off any unwanted men. You pause yet again, having to look up to catch the mans face.

His 6’5 form towers over your much smaller figure, dressed in a dark purple suit and tie, his pearly blues shining in the colourful strobe lights, looking down at you with a slight smirk. His dark beard covered most of his face and his long curtains framed his godly sculpted face. Even with his suit on his arms bulged through the material, his thick biceps almost bigger than your head.

You shortly snapped out of your daze as his leather gloved hand squeezed your arm. “C-Can i help you, sir?” you stammered, worried incase you had been caught gauking.

He laughs “Not even a thankyou, Sweetheart? I thought you’d have better manners than that.” he teases, his rough voice sending shivers down your spine. You stutter as you try to find your words, seeming as they were lodged in the back of your throat.

“I’m kidding, name’s Ari…you gonna’ give me the curtesy of knowing yours or you just gonna’ keep starin’ at me with those pretty eyes?”

“A-Ari as in… Levinson?” you question, swallowing harshly as the nerves quickly built in your stomach.

He shakes his head gently with a smirk "So you know me, huh?"

Your eyes widen at the realisation of who the mystery man is, your arms instantly beginning to shake, your card still in hand. You were never good at dealing with situations such as this one, always being labled as the 'shy girl' of your group. Sarah being the complete opposite. Usually men in this situation would back off, sensing your uncomfortable trembles and leaving you alone, but not Ari. If anything the smirk on his face grew wider at the sense of your fear.

"Steve, why don't you head over to booth two, give the girls their shots." Ari calls out towards the handsome bartender from earlier.

The man, Steve, is at your side in an instant "No prob man, have fun you two." he winks, collecting the glasses and sauntering off with a wink.

Ari shakes his head with a laugh, “Why don’t you come with me.” he leans down to whisper in your ear. The vibration of his vocals in your ears sending shivers down your spine before he struts forwards, holding out his thick palm for you to grab on to, and almost as if your in a trance, you begin to trail behind him without hesitation. Sliding your smaller palm into his own as he led you through the club.

Your nerves never allowed you to talk much, or make your own decisions, that being the reason you followed the stranger without any question asked, which is exactly why Sare was usually always there to do it for you. But, your drunken confidence had allowed you to go to the bar alone, which you were beginning to really regret. Your confidence being blown out of the park as the attractive beast watched you from infront with a careful eye.

Shortly you arried at the unknown destination, trailing nervously behind Ari as he unlocked a large door, which was infact bolted shut. He pushed open the door, looking down at you, edging you to enter, and so you did. Your eyes lit up as they searched the vast room, expensive furnature lining the room, bottles of champagne worth more than your house filling the cupboards above his desk.

Ari pushed the door closed, moving to sit on a cushioned purple chair, his thick thighs spread wide as he removed his gloves, pouring himself, and you, a glass of his finest drink. His cold eyes beckoned you forwards, your legs shaking as you stepped towards him, standing inbetween his spread legs.

He patted his thigh with one hand "Sit." he called out, his voice sweet yet stern.

You looked at him shocked, your lips parting slightly, were you really going to sit on his lap? A man you just met? Who you didn't even know? "I-I don't think i should Mr Levinson." you whispered.

His eyes grew shades darker at your refusal, not even giving you time to debate your decisions he reached out, gripping your waist in his thick palm and pulling you down, sitting you sideways on his lap as you gasp in shock. His other hand pushing a strand of your hair behind your ear as you squirmed under the pressure.

"Pretty girl, next time i ask you to do something, you do it. No questions asked. You understand?" he asked in a low growl.

You swallowed your nerves and nodded gently under his deep gaze, your body trembling.

"Ah ah, words baby."

"Yes, M-Mr Levinson, I-I understand."

Ari groaned underneath his breath, not understanding how lucky he had gotten that a pretty little thing like you would just waltse right in at the perfect moment, almost as if you were made for him. Like a lamb in a lions den. "As much as i love the way you say my name, call me Ari, sweet girl."

Again, you followed his command. "Yes, Ari."

"Good girl." he rumbled, pulling your bottom lip gently inbetween his index and thumb, loving the way you felt on his lap. Your innocence and submissive nature automatically triggering his dominance, his cock growing hard in his slacks as your plump ass squirmed on his knee.

You keened at his praise, a fluttery feeling appearing in your lower half. Of course Ari noticed this, the way your pussy pulsated on his thigh told him all he needed to know.

"You ever been with a man before, sweetheart?" Ari asks while he strokes your hair, not even having to shout due to the soundproof room blocking out the clubs music.

"Um, n-no i haven't, my Grandma wouldn't really approve of that sort of stuff, she said i should wait till m-marriage." you whisper shyly.

Ari blows out a puff of air at your innocence, desperately trying to control himself. All he wants is to ruin you, in every way you can imagine, and more. He smirks, leaning into your shoulder, pressing his nose against your sensitive neck and taking a deep inhale. Groaning softly, your sweet scent driving his instincts wild.

"Your Grandma seems like a very smart lady, little girl. You live with just her, huh?"

"Yeah, i never really knew my m-mom and dad, and my grandpa died shorly after i was born s-so it's pretty much always just been me and her. She does her best to take care of me, taught me everything i know." you speak with a bright smile, Ari notices how your stutter stopped when talking about her, he thought it was sweet, how much you must care about her.

However, the dark side of his mind was quick to take a seat, the realisation that you never had a father figure making his cock impossibly harder. Knowing he could be that for you, and knowing you needed a strong man like him in your life to make all those decisions for you.

"I think i changed my mind, baby. Why don't you call me daddy from now on, mkay?" he spoke softly, yet the edge in his tone still clear.

"D-Daddy?" you muttered, confused as to why he would want you to call him that.

He moaned hearing your sweet voice call him by his new found title. Taking a deep breath, he sighed, choosing not to elaborate on his previous statement. "Good girl. I'm gonna' take care of you from now on, yeah? Anything you need, you come to me. Pass me your phone, sweet girl."

"Oh, i-i don't have a phone.. daddy."

Ari's eyebrows knit together softly "You don't have a phone? Why not?"

You shake your head, your cheeks flushing in embarrassment. "We uhm, w-we can't really afford that sort of stuff."

"Well that just won't do." he speaks in a teasing tone, tickling your waist making you giggle softly.

Suddenly a loud bang causes you to shoot upright, you quickly dash off Ari's lap, moving to stand away from him, his office door slamming shut as a tall moustached man enters. Your eyes widen in fright, knowing how violent the man standing infront of you truly was. You knew who he was too, Sare had told you plenty of stories about the cruel Lloyd Hansen. You often wondered if he even had a soul.

"Man it's fuckin' packed down there, what the fuck are you doing up here." the man groans, not even noticing you until he turns. He lifts his sunglasses, staring you down, his eyes scanning over your figure, pausing and licking his lips at the soft flesh beneath the cut of your dress, your pretty pink dress having ridden up your thighs.

"Lloyd." Ari bellows, sighing in annoyance at his disruption.

A smirk similar to Ari's appears on the man, Lloyd's, face. "Well, well, well. What do we have here?" he speaks in a sultry voice. He begins his descent in your direction and the second gets a little too close, Ari shoots up out of his seat, moving to stand infront of you. A low rumble vibrating through his chest.

Ari stood slightly taller than Lloyd, with broader shoulders and thicker legs, the muscles in his back visible as he stood infront of you, almost as if he was protecting you, a hand wrapped around your hips rubbing his thumb in circular motions over your dress….and of course the most important detail, his luscious full beard compared to Lloyds 90s porn stache. They stared each other down, asserting some sort of dominance over one another… Ari seemingly winning as Lloyd begins to back up.

He lets out a chuckle, lifting his hands in a surrender position, taking a few steps back. "I mean no harm, just wanna' ask the pretty girl for her name, s'all."

You begin to quiver yet again, Lloyd's presence scaring you back into your shell. His dangerous aura sending goosebumps across your trembling figure. "I-I think i sh-should go." you whisper, tugging at the hem of your dress in a desperate attempt to calm your nerves.

"Don't move, sweets. Lloyd. Get the fuck out of here man." Ari bellows.

“I think you’ll find this club is mine just as much as it is yours, big bro. C’mon. Introduce me to the beauty.” he chucked yet again, probably at Ari’s fury. Steam was practically pouring out of his ears at this point. He didn’t even want Lloyd looking at you, nevermind talking to you.

“I mean it Lloyd get the fuck outta’ here man-“

Before he can stop you, you make a quick dash for the door and at the sound of Ari's resistance your legs carry you quicker than you could've ever imagined. Not looking back once as you pull the door open, swiftly shutting the door behind you.

You take a deep, your chest heaving at the stress of the situation, wiping your sweaty hands on your dress and making your descent down the club stairs, shaking your head in confusion and fear, eager to find your friends, craving their comfort and hearing a hushed "You fuckin' asshole." in the distance.

[imyourbratzdoll]

Hey babe!! I'm beyond obsessed with your recent Lloyd/Ransom lollipop fic! Could we perhaps get a follow up where Lloyd tests out said lollipop on reader?👀🥵

hi baby! I'm so so so sorry for taking so long to do your request! I hope you like what I've done.

last part to wedding crasher and the prequel lollipop

summary - after your ex ransom crashed yours and lloyd's wedding and revealing your dirty little secret. your now husband wants to try it out for himself on your honeymoon.

warning - smut, food play, being called a slut, daddy kink.

18+ only please, the gif isn't mine and divider by @newlips

After the wedding and your ex crashing it, Lloyd decided during your honeymoon that he should be allowed to experience your lollipop kink. So, that’s exactly what he did. After a lovely romantic dinner, he led you back up to the room and threw you on the bed, reaching over with a devilish smile as he pulled out a strawberry lollipop from underneath his pillow, bringing you into a rough make out session before he begins with his plans. Which leaves us too now.

“Stay still, Pumpkin. Let daddy fuck you with this sweet treat.” Lloyd growls, you’re sprawled out on the bed, lips puffy and swollen from your husband kissing you roughly, your cunt dripping as you anticipate what’s going to happen. Lloyd lies between your legs, his tongue flicking out to wet his lips as he eyes your glistening folds. One hand grips your hip, holding it down while the other rubs a strawberry flavoured lollipop between your folds. The lolly bumping against your puffy clit causes soft whimpers to fall from your lips. “I chose strawberry for us, Pumpkin. So, whenever you see anything resembling a strawberry, you’ll think back to this night.” He smirks, “Be a good girl for daddy.” He says with a hint of a warning behind his words, knowing how greedy you can be once he gives into your desires.

Your eyes roll back as he pushes the sweet treat into your cunt, his cock twitches as he watches you practically suck the thing in as though it were your mouth doing it. “L–Lloyd!” Smack “Daddy!” You moan as he coats the lolly with your juices, picking up the pace and swirling it around, hitting your sweet spot. 

Lloyd thrusts the lollipop faster and harder into your sweet cunt, his thumb connecting to your puffy clit, groaning as your back lifts from the mattress and you begin to squirm. Your fingers curl into the bedsheets as he fucks you hard, slowly turning you into his kinky little slut with each movement. Lloyd huffs out a chuckle, “Huh, your ex was right. You are a kinky little slut.” 

His words cause tingles to erupt throughout your body, juices flowing out of your now strawberry-flavoured cunt as you cum. You slowly sink back into the mattress, hazy eyes locking onto Lloyd’s as he gently pulls out the lollipop, you whimper as you watch him put it in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the treat as he collects your taste. Your eyes widen as he crawls up your body, leaning over you with the lollipop hanging loosely in his mouth. He hums, “I think I just found my new favourite treat, Pumpkin.” 

The rest of the night is filled with everything imaginable, not leaving the bed until two days had passed and you were utterly fucked out. 

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[cevansgoodgirl]

It’s the same hotness but more 🥵 good gawdddd

[biteofcherry]

Milky Sweet

Bad Moon Rising Masterlist

Alpha Ari Levinson x omega female reader

warnings: none; pure fluff, domestic bliss and happy news; Ari being slutty as always; shifter!Ari; shifter!Reader

Author's Note: This is a short fluffy fic written as a result of this poll.

The soft click of the door being open and closed, then the tiny creak of the floorboards under the weight of a massive body made you smile. 

Your Alpha was the type of a man who walked with purpose and barely contained threat, making his approach a reflection of the beast that he shifted into. Not in your home, however. 

Well, not since the argument two months ago. 

You were attending online classes, sitting in front of the sleek new laptop (a gift from Ari) and listening to the lecture, when your mate all but burst into the living room in all his bold glory. Shirt unbuttoned, exposing his chest and belly. His jeans were tight enough to draw attention to the outline of his cock. 

Okay, so maybe only your attention dropped that low, but the point was that he strode inside unabashedly cocky and loud, while you were in the middle of the damn lecture. 

Fortunately, you had your camera and microphone turned off at that moment, but if he walked in a half an hour earlier, everyone would get an eyeful. 

There was a lot of your yelling and hissing, and poking Ari in the chest, calling him an uncultured caveman. He apologized, though it didn’t stop you from poking him some more. And calling him a slutty beast. Which resulted in said beast fucking you on the table, while the last minutes of the lecture were still going on. 

Since then, Ari made sure to be very quiet and stealthy when he returned home on days you had classes. 

“It’s okay,” you called out softly. “The lectures are over. I’m just finishing some notes.”

A heartbeat later Ari appeared beside you, bracing one hand on the table and the other on the back of your chair as he leaned down to kiss you. 

There were aspects of being Alpha’s mate that tied to his dominance and control, but then there were small things - like the way he kissed you good morning, goodbye and hello - which shone light on the soft, precious bond between you. 

“How was it today?” Ari glanced at the notebook scribbled with colorful notes and stickers. 

“Honestly, rather dull.” You sighed, returning your gaze to the notes, but not before glancing at Ari’s bare chest. Typical. 

“Hungry?” He straightened. “I’ll toss on some quick stir fry.”

“Sounds good.” You were eager to finish, so you could join Ari in the kitchen. 

As much as you fought for your independence of being limited to an Alpha’s mate, you couldn’t deny that spending time with him was enjoyable. It was always a spark, filling your chest with a variety of warm sensations. 

The feeling of safety and contentment; sometimes a bubbling joy and carefree wilderness; the need so deep and burning it made you itch to claw at skin. 

Sometimes you wondered if it was the mating ceremony that enhanced that connection between you two, for you have never felt anything as intense with your previous partners. Even the ones you thought you’re in love with. 

There, that light fluttering in your belly returned as you walked into the kitchen a few minutes later. The scent of food, the sight of your mate preparing a meal for the two of you. It reminded you of the comfort of your childhood home, where you got to see your parents be true partners. 

Ari did his best to make you feel as his equal, even though it was an undeniable truth that you weren’t. Not by the designation of your wolf nature, nor the laws ruling the shifters packs. But in the way he gave you freedom and shared responsibilities with you, you felt respected. 

“After dinner I’m going to check on Dante’s crops,” Ari mentioned as you slid onto a barstool at the kitchen island. “Wanna come with me? You’ve spent all day inside, some fresh air will do you good.” 

You narrowed your eyes slightly, watching him closely. 

Despite the bloody way your packs were joined into one, Ari proved to be a good Alpha. He held the reins, but was open to listen to his packmates. Especially the inner circle, who combined both people from his old pack and some of yours. 

He was also willing to give new ideas a chance.

Like the one Dante had: to use a portion of your lands to farm crops which would profit the pack. He had this idea before, with some specific type of plant that was rare, but becoming very popular. Dimitri, your previous Alpha, didn’t agree to it. He was adamant on maintaining as much of the wild, free area as possible. 

He had his rights, but if Dante’s project succeeded, then in a few years your pack would be able to buy more lands.

However, faith in Dante’s plans and supporting him in this project, didn’t change the fact that he was your ex and Ari was a very primal, possessive man. 

Ari may deny it, but you noticed all the micro possessive gestures he displayed whenever your ex was nearby. More of them than usual, that is. 

He was also right that you needed some time under the open sky. 

It was bliss when an hour later you walked down the narrow paths between growing plants. The scent of watered and sun-stroked ground wiping away the mental tiredness, soft breeze tickling your skin and the sun peeking from between cloud layers making you squint your eyes. 

And your Alpha’s hand moving between squeezing the back of your neck and your butt, despite Dante not coming anywhere near you. 

You rolled your eyes and continued beside Ari as you listened to Dante’s promising report. The way Ari talked with him spoke of appreciation and pride, and you knew it meant a lot to any pack member. 

Later, as you stood at the edge of the field, with your back pressed to Ari’s chest and his arms wrapped around you as you watched the sprouts of the new chapter for your pack being tended to by Dante and his coworkers; you felt a surge of pride, too. 

Of your Alpha. Your wild, untamed mate, who scared you a bit, but who showed you and the others that he was worthy of putting your trust in him. 

You sighed softly and titled your head to the side as Ari brushed the shell of your ear with his lips then placed a kiss behind it.

Tip of his nose nuzzled into that spot. Paused. Then slowly dragged down, into the crook of your neck where two biting marks were crossing. 

“You got new perfume?” Ari hummed, curiously sniffing at your gland. “You smell a bit different. Sweeter. Nutty? Milky?”

With another sigh, you rested your head against Ari’s shoulder as your gaze drifted from the beautiful greenery to the puffy clouds in the sky, their creamy shade taking a hint of the first lick of sundown. 

“I guess I’m pregnant.” 

You surprised yourself with how calm you sounded. A part of you expected more shaky emotion to come with the admission, but somehow it wasn’t scary at all to say it. 

You felt Ari go very still. A wolf who had all of his instincts alerted. 

“I suspected it,” you continued when he remained quiet. “I planned on getting a pregnancy test tomorrow, or the day after. But having your mate distinguish a difference in your scent is a better proof than peeing on a store-bought stick.” 

Ari spun you in his arms fast, but any dizziness didn’t get a chance to settle as he cupped your face in his palms and made the sparkling blue of his irises your sole focus. 

There was so much emotion shining in his eyes. Disbelief. Hope. Joy. 

He held your gaze for a long moment, until you reached your own hand to touch his cheek. A split of a second, just a faint curve of your shy smile confirming your words, and Ari was pulling you into a fierce kiss. 

He was still kissing you as his arms slid lower and in a swift move he picked you off the ground. With a squeak, you broke the kiss and laughed. The sound of it was muffled by the long, loud howl that ripped out of Ari’s throat.

“By the gods!” You huffed, half amused, half annoyed when he continued his howl, despite your attempts to cover his mouth with your hands. “There goes my hope to tell my parents before the whole pack knows.”

Ari’s eyes crinkled and he purposely let out another deep bellow, before it faded into laughter and he was putting you back on your feet. Though his hold on you didn’t ease an inch.

“They don’t know what’s the reason for my howl.” He grinned, not the least apologetic. 

“You’re in the middle of a field with your newlywed mate. What else is there to howl about?” You gave him a pointed look. 

“You know how packs work,” Ari shrugged. “We could tell your parents over dinner and before we made it back to our house the whole pack would know already, anyway. Besides-” 

Ari leaned in. The spike in his scent was enough to have a heat flush you from the inside, but the way his eyes shadowed with that animalistic hunger had your pussy clenching.

“ -I want to test first if you taste sweeter, too.”

[boxofbonesfic]

Title: 𝙳𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚕𝚐ä𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛 [8]

Pairing: Dark!Ransom x Reader, Lloyd Hansen x Reader

Summary: Your husband’s twin brother has always made you uncomfortable, and after two years of marriage, you finally find out why. 

Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Possessive Behavior, Stalking, Kidnapping, Basement-wife, Gaslighting, Manipulation, Breeding kink, Smut, Darkfic, Dead Dove: Do not eat!

Word Count: 3,572

A/N: poor reader. things are not going as well as she’d hoped. we’re honestly in the home stretch, i anticipate another 2-3 chapters before we’ve arrived at our conclusion! (i also have some plans for a short prequel, so stay tuned!) bottom divider by @firefly-graphics

You stare at your husband, open mouthed as he shuts the door behind him. On the tray in his hands is breakfast, and most of all—coffee. Real coffee, swirling gently in the fancy drip . You can’t think of a single thing to say as he moves past you to set the tray down on the table. 

The scent of his cologne makes your knees tremble, it’s so familiar, so him. You haven’t seen Ransom in person in so long it feels like some sort of trick. You look down at his hands as he arranges the plates, looking for the indents left by Lloyd’s signature rings—but there is only his wedding band, sitting on his ring finger. He looks up at you. 

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost, Sweetheart.” 

Your tongue is sticky in your dry mouth. “I did.” 

Ransom isn’t as good at pretending he’s unaffected—not as good as Lloyd. Brief upset flashes across his features before it’s replaced by determined placidity. It makes the rage simmering in your belly flare up even hotter at the sight of him. You’re angrier at him than you are at Lloyd. It isn’t logical, you know, to feel somehow more betrayed by your husband than his twin, but you do. You suppose Lloyd owed you less than the man with whom you had shared every hope, every dream for your future. 

“Let’s eat something, at least,” he replies at last. “You can hate me on a full stomach.” Reluctantly, you sit down at the table. You wonder if all your meals will be taken like this now, now that contact has been re-established, like some sort of strange exposure therapy. Ransom pours himself a mug of dark coffee and then a matching one for you. You don’t reach for it, though, not until you see him drink from his own cup. 

The plate before you is loaded up with fresh fruits—your favorites: cut grapes, melons, slices of kiwi—and beneath that is a fully loaded waffle, topped with fluffy whipped cream. You spear a forkful of eggs and chew as you stare pointedly at the mug in front of you instead of at him. 

Ransom isn’t like Lloyd, he doesn’t force conversation. He simply sits there across from you, eating breakfast in your prison like it’s the most ordinary thing in the entire world. 

“How could you do this?” You vomit up the question as you tremble, unable to swallow another bite. “How?” 

“We love you so much,” he begins, and you have to resist the urge to throw the plate at his head, food and all. “So fucking much.” Ransom reaches across the table to grasp your hand. “This is the only way this works, Sweetheart.” He lifts his hand to your cheek. You hate that his reassurance feels good, that you’re tempted to press your face into the palm of his hand the way you used to. A sob tears free from your throat. 

“If you loved me, you wouldn’t—”

“Do you even know what love is?” There is a cold edge to Ransom’s voice that’s unfamiliar to you, not because you haven’t heard it before, but because he never adopts that tone with you—never. “Love is doing for others what they cannot do for themselves.” You almost want to cringe away from his gaze. “You taught me that.” As his words increase in intensity you actually try to, only to have Ransom grip your chin with his free hand.“Even if it hurts.”

He sits back in his chair, and sips his coffee. “Now finish your breakfast, Sweetheart. I have a surprise.” The word surprise immediately gets your hackles up, and you can feel your stomach churning. 

“A surprise? What is it?” Ransom winks at you. 

“Eat up.” 

You force your way through the fruit—it’s sweet and ripe but it tastes like mush now as you anxiously chew and swallow. Ransom had always been a good gift-giver. It’s one of the things you’d valued about your husband, his attention to detail, his heart. That little piece of him he’d let you see, the part of him he guarded, held like a wounded bird in his cupped hands. The part of him that memorized your birthday three months in and threw a half-birthday party because he couldn’t wait that long to give you the present he’d gotten for you—a trip to Paris, to see the Louvre. Which one of these people is your husband, you wonder, watching him watch you. Which one of them is real, which is created? 

Or had you ever really known him at all?

When you’re done eating, Ransom hands you a little plastic baggie, containing an assortment of pills. A few you recognize—your pre-natal vitamins, one of your prescribed supplements—but there are some you don’t. You glare down at his offered hand with narrowed eyes before crossing your arms. 

“I’m not taking those.” You’re expecting Ransom to fight you—hell, you’re half expecting him to pin you down and force them down your throat. But he doesn’t. All he does is purse his lips, and place them down on the table. 

“We’ll revisit that.”

“We’re not revisiting anything!” You hiss. “I am not. Taking those.” Ransom steeples his fingers beneath his chin and raises an eyebrow. 

“You had no problem taking them when you couldn’t see them, Sweetheart.” Your stomach rolls. “It was my suggestion,” he sighs, fingering the little packet. “I thought you would appreciate the agency.”

“You’re still drugging me.” 

“Sweetheart they’re not roofies.” His flippancy somehow makes you angrier. “It’s all the things you were taking—perhaps a little altered for your condition, but nothing untoward. Your Celexa for your anxiety. Prenatal supplements, vitamins.” 

“I’m not taking them.” 

“Fine.” He picks the little baggie back up and places it in his pocket. Instead of tacit, clever threats like Lloyd, Ransom simply gets up. You look up at him in surprise, almost forgetting to be angry. 

“Y-you’re not going to force me?” You ask, shocked. Your husband pushes his chair back against the table. He looks sad. Really sad, like he recognizes the weight of what has changed between you. 

“No, baby. I’m not.” He turns towards the door. “But I’m not going to stay, either.” Your eyes go wide with fear.

“W-wait, why? I—”

“You’re upset. I understand, I do.” For his part, Ransom looks realistically disappointed, like he wanted things to turn out differently than they have. A sad smile flits across his face. “But baby if we’re going to build back what we had, build it stronger, you’re going to have to think about more than just yourself.”

You feel a pang of hurt in your chest at his accusation. “I’m not selfish! If any

thing—”

“Threatening to leave me? To take the baby?” Ransom shoots you a cold, disappointed look. “What did you tell me, Sweetheart? The baby will never know my name? What would you call that if not selfish?” You swallow thickly. 

That day feels so long ago now, though in truth you suppose it’s been nearly a month since you’d figured it out and everything had broken open and fallen all to pieces. It’s strange to think that that was reality in the same way that this is—that your physical body no longer occupies a world that exists only in your memories, when everything was perfect. 

“I’m going to give you some time to relax. Maybe It’s too soon.” Ransom shakes his head. “I’ll be back when you’re ready.” Your chest feels tight at his declaration. Alone? Again? You curl your fists into tight balls beneath the table, nails digging into your palms. 

“Don’t.” 

“Oh? And why should I stay? You hate me, you won’t take your medicine—”

“I’ll take it.” You mumble, and Ransom turns back around, a soft, surprised look on his face. You don’t want to go back to being alone, back to the endless hours of silence, your food delivered while you slept or bathed, to reciting movie lines just to have something to listen to—

“What?”

“I—I’ll take them. Please—you don’t…” You close your eyes.. “You don’t know what it’s like to be in here alone, day after day.”  It’s torture. The words hang unspoken from the tails of the ones you’re brave enough to voice. Tears press against your closed lids as you try unsuccessfully to keep them back. He sighs. 

“Oh Baby.” 

You hate him —you hate both of them, so much it seems to fill up every inch of you. So why do you want him to stay? Why does it feel familiar and right and good when he tucks you beneath his chin as you sob? You’d managed to hold them in with Lloyd, but you can’t with Ransom. He’s too familiar, your body knows him, thinks it’s safe with him, even when it’s not. But it’s hard not to feel that same security when he sweeps you into his arms and sits against the window with you as you whimper and cry, pressing your face into his chest. 

Ransom rocks you back and forth, rubbing circles on your back through the cotton dress. You aren’t sure what he says to you as he does so, mumbling muddy praise and promises into your hair. It’s almost worse than that day at the villa—you hadn’t been this hopeless then, this trapped. You’d thought you could leave then, that you could simply walk away from the snare they had set for you, though you never really could.

What other end could there have been?

You aren’t sure how long you sit there with Ransom, your heaving, hysterical sobs becoming hiccoughs. Listlessly you stare out at the waves, dragging the back of your hand across your puffy eyes. Wordlessly, he hands you the little plastic bag of pills. You take it from him without a fuss, tear open the corner and dump them into the palm of your hand. You consider them for a moment before lifting them to your mouth and swallowing them dry. 

—

The surprise, as it turns out, is books. 

Ransom brings in a brightly colored bag from the hallway as you sit sniffling on the bed, still wiping at your puffy eyes. It almost brings you to tears again as you pull out the tissue paper to reveal the prizes inside. They’re all books you’ve never read before but had been meaning to, even going so far as to put a list of them on the fridge in the apartment you shared with Ransom. Frankenstein. Hound of the Baskervilles. The Shining.

“You read my list.” 

“Of course I did,” Ransom says, pressing a kiss to your temple before sitting beside you on the edge of the bed. “It’s been up there for months.” He teases. “I thought we could read them together, like we did in college. Since you’ve been so lonely.” Something goes tight and achy in your chest at the memory of it, you and Ransom cuddled together on your narrow dorm room bed as you read him passages of Wuthering Heights and Catcher in the Rye. It’s so easy to picture it now, though you had not thought of them for months—maybe years. Your husband just a few years younger, draping his own sweater over your shoulders. 

I like when it smells like you, he’d say when you’d stammer about lotion or perfume, pressing it into your hands anyway. 

“I’d like that.” 

It’s almost like being home again, wrapping yourself in the soft comforter on the bed as Ransom begins to read. Is it so wrong, you wonder, to want to go back to when things were ordinary and perfect? Before you knew your husband and his brother felt something deeper than love, deeper than obsession for you—ownership, perhaps. You don’t want this new knowledge, as insane as that seems. You don’t want to know that your family is dependent on them, that their lives rely on your marriage in ways you never could have foreseen. Your father’s business, Nathalie’s school—all things they would lose the instant your relationship dissolved. 

And as Ransom reads, it’s almost easy to pretend you don’t have it, to close your eyes and just… listen. You’re half asleep when he shifts you into his arms, pressing soft kisses to the top of your head. You begin to stir, pushing at his chest, but he hums softly. 

“Just let me have this, Sweetheart. You can still hate me when I’m done.” Your husband holds you to his chest, stroking your hair until you fall asleep. He holds you like that for a long time, listening to the sound of your breathing. With a sigh, Ransom lowers you down to the mattress. He’s arranging your books on the bedside table when the sound of the keypad draws his attention.

“You’re bringing her presents already?” Lloyd drawls from the threshold. “I thought you said she wasn’t ready.” Ransom rolls his eyes. He knows what jealousy looks like well enough on his own face to know it on his brother’s. 

“I said that a week ago,” he says softly. “And keep your voice down. You know we had to lower the dose on the sedative.” Lloyd leans against the bedpost, watching as Ransom fusses over you. “Besides. You got to see her yesterday.” He shoots a glare at his older brother. “You took a fucking bath with her. You always have to be fucking first, don’t you?” 

It’s Lloyd’s turn to roll his eyes. “I don’t interfere in your relationship, you don’t talk shit about mine.” He smooths a hand down your cheek. “I called the doctor. He said he’ll be here Monday.” 

Ransom nods. “Good.” A small smile crosses his lips. “I think she’ll be excited to see the baby.” He rests a hand on the ever-so-slight curve of your belly, and Lloyd snorts. “With our luck, it’ll be twins.” You shift, mumbling something in your sleep as your face twitches. Lloyd kisses your forehead. 

“Shh, baby. M’right here.” His hand replaces Ransom’s on your belly. “We’re not going anywhere.”

—

“A doctor?” You stare at the two of them incredulously. “Here?” Lloyd scoffs at your shock. 

“Come on, Princess. It’s not like we’re in space.” He pats you affectionately on your hip. “Besides, you’re due for a checkup. Don’t you want to see your little nugget?” His words twist your stomach. You had scheduled an ultrasound for when you returned from Mykonos—not knowing, foolishly, perhaps, that you never would. I wonder what they told Dr. Pashik. 

Ransom and Lloyd are wrapped around you like snakes; your husband curled around you from behind, while Lloyd has draped himself across your lap, tracing circles on the exposed skin of your thigh where the dress has ridden up. They’d come into your room sometime early that morning while you’d still been mostly asleep, taking up residence on either side of you while you mumbled groggily. Of course Ransom and Lloyd had not come empty handed, bringing with them more gifts; books, card games, even a portable device they told you you were allowed to watch movies on. Of course, upon discreet investigation there were only streaming apps installed on it, no browser, nor any way to reach the outside world. It was password locked for extra security, which neither one of your lover-turned-captors had yet supplied you. 

You rest a hand on your tummy. “I am excited,” you say finally. “I guess… I’m surprised.” Until now, they had not allowed you to see a single person other than them—in fact you wouldn’t have known there were more people here than the three of you had Lloyd not pointedly told you. “What kind of doctor treats a prisoner?”

“You’re a patient, Princess.” Lloyd corrects you. “Not a prisoner.” He kisses your thigh. One who enjoys a discreet, hefty payout. 

“Someone you know from work?” You ask snidely, and Lloyd laughs. 

“Maybe when I can trust you, I can tell you.” He winks at you. You know your brother-in-law does work for “the government” but you aren’t really sure which government. You get the feeling he has no loyalty in that regard, though all you have to go on is your own baseless assumption. Your thoughts turn to the doctor, and you wonder if they might be sympathetic, despite Lloyd’s money. If you’re even allowed to be alone with them—in all likelihood you probably won’t. If Ransom and Lloyd have been anything they’ve been careful, you doubt they’d make such a rookie mistake this far into the game. Not now. 

You smile sadly. “I don’t think you’ll ever be able to trust me.”

“Oh Princess, I don’t know about that. After all, look at us now.” A lump forms in your throat. “All cozy like. I think you feel a lot more comfortable than you want to admit.” You swallow against the lump that’s formed, thick and sticky in your throat. 

“I just know there’s no use trying to push you off.” 

“Okay, Princess.” Lloyd blows you a kiss. “Whatever you say.” 

It is warm and comfortable between them, and as much as you hate it, Lloyd’s hands do feel familiar and right on your skin, though you don’t want them to. It occurs to you once again that you don’t know what’s in those neat little pre-packaged pill bags that they’re giving you, and as much as you don’t want to bask in the sudden intensity of their affection after weeks of stark purposeful isolation, you still can’t help yourself. It doesn’t help to know the rules of the game when they’re still playing it so effectively. All you can do is watch as Ransom and Lloyd move you around the board, to ends you can only imagine. 

“When is the doctor coming?”

“Tomorrow,” Ransom says, squeezing your hand. “I think we’ll hear the heartbeat, you’re far enough along, you know.” He sounds excited. You know he is—Ransom has always been excited at the prospect of fatherhood. He’d been downright encouraging when you had brought up going off your birth control, if the things he’d been growling into your ear as he rutted into you in your bed were any indicator, and they were. 

“We still haven’t talked about names.” 

“I had a list going but it was on my phone.” 

“Maybe we’ll take a look at it together soon.” Ransom’s hands drift to your shoulders, rubbing at the tense muscle knotted underneath your skin. 

“Will we get pictures?” You ask. “Of the ultrasound?” 

“Of course.”

“Then… will you send them to my parents?” His hands falter, and you turn to look at him. Your husband’s expression is unreadable as he glances down at his brother, an entire conversation passing between them wordlessly. You feel that same pang of old jealousy creep up into your chest, and you swallow it down. “I just—they… they would want to see.” 

“Maybe.” He says at last. 

“Where do they think I am?”

“I don’t—”

“I’ve been good, haven’t I?” You ask, shifting away from him, from the both of them. “Please. Tell me something. Anything.” Lloyd shakes his head with a frown, but Ransom sighs. 

“You’re in a very expensive hospital in Austria.” 

“My father wouldn’t believe that,” you say, shaking your head. You know your family—they wouldn’t just swallow some paper thin excuse just to get back to their lives. Would they? “He-he would want to see me.” 

“Your father is very busy with his business, Princess,” Lloyd cuts in effortlessly. “He has so much to worry about, and then there’s Nathalie’s classes…” he shrugs. “They trust us to take good care of you.” 

“So let us take care of you.” 

You’d suspected you had no tears left to cry, that perhaps you’d cried them all already. But as always, you manage to surprise yourself with more from the seemingly unending supply inside you. You want to push away their hands as they pat and comfort you, hushing you and wiping at their tears with the pads of their thumbs. It’s the only comfort you have, especially knowing your family isn’t looking for you. Why would they? You remember the bitter, bitter arguments you’d had with your own father when you had decided to move out. They relied on you, needed you—you contributed to more than a third of the bills, there was simply no way around it. You were hurting the family, damning them with your independence. 

“Have you ever thought about anyone but your goddamn self?” Your father had never apologized for that night, and like a dutiful daughter you never brought it up again because how could you? You were the oldest, junior mom, de-facto parent. Something shatters inside you at the thought, and you feel it almost like physical pain. I wonder if they can hear it. 

You don’t know when the arms around you begin to feel like solace instead of suffocation as you weep against someone’s warm chest—you cannot be sure, not through your blurry, red-rimmed eyes. But as your fingers curl into his shirt, and another warm set of lips presses against your hair, you wonder if perhaps this is why they chose you. 

Because who didn’t love to tinker with a broken doll?

to be continued…

Thank you for reading! Please check out my masterlist for other, similar works, and follow my library blog, @box-of-bones-library for updates. ❤️

[intoanotherworld23]

Intoxicating Touch

Summary: you were Chris’s favorite drink, and he got drunk so quickly off of your touch

Warnings: mdni 18+, mature context, explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, dom Chris Evans, praise kink, spanking, overstimulation, dirty talk

A/N: I haven’t written for Chris Evans in a hot minute and it’s been long overdue so I hope y’all enjoy! I owe this one for @rogersbarber since they always checked in on me, and have been patiently waiting for me to write for him again! Reblogs and comments are encouraged and appreciated always support your fanfic writers! Also, my Chris Evans tag list is still open so feel free to join! Thanks! XOXO

Hall of Hunks

Chris Evans was the epitome of sex. Fucking you cruelly pounding your tight hole with no mercy whatsoever. His tight grip on your body was sure to leave marks almost like you were a canvas for him to draw on. Cries of pleasure leaving your lips calling out only his name.

"That feel good sweetheart?" He hisses directly into your ear as a hand comes down on your backside. A jolt coursing through your body at the impact making him snicker. Encouraging him to spank you again and again until he could see the outline of his handprint on your skin.

"Mmmm it feels good." Nodding your head as you turned your cheek to lay against the marble table that you were currently bent over. Lost in the intoxicating bliss of his touch your mind in a whole other world.

“That’s it baby fuck yourself against my cock.” He encouraged when he noticed you started to back your hips back to meet his. Keeping himself still for a few minutes and let you have control for a little bit. Loving to see this side of you that would come out of nowhere.

Tears glistening in your eyes as he pushed his hips harder against you your body being pushed forward on the table. Breasts rubbing against the table sending shivers down your spine. His lips warm and eager as they trailed across your shoulder leaving a trail of saliva across your skin.

"You're incredibly tight baby." His deeps voice drips with praise as his thrusts quicken. Moving your hands in front of you splayed out as you gripped the end of the table. “Don’t know how much longer I can keep going.”

Thick warm hands gripping your flesh as he squeezed the fat in the palm of his hands. Relishing in the softness of your curves. If there was one thing Chris loved it was to always be touching you. Watching as goosebumps would appear on your skin when he touched a certain spot.

"Oh my god." You whimpered closing your eyes shut as the senses started to overwhelm you, and you could feel the heat swarming your body. Feeling the stretch of your walls every time he pushed himself all the way into your gut.

Sex with Chris was always mind blowing, and definitely had you feeling sore for several days. He knew all the right places to touch, and right words to say. Chris knew your body inside and out even when you think he didn’t he could surprise you by awakening a new kink. He was adventurous and just wanting to explore new horizons with you.

“Use that pretty mouth and tell me how good it feels.” He demands as he stills his hips his voice laced with a mocking tone. The words stuck in the back of your throat as you struggled to speak any words.

“Come on baby, tell me how good I’m fucking this cunt.” Pulling back then slamming his body straight into yours with full force a scream leaving your lips.

“It feels so fucking good Chris.” Relentlessly pushing and pulling you back until all you could muster was gasps and whimpers.

Chris always thought you looked the most beautiful with makeup smeared down your face, and a glazed over look in your eyes. If he could take a picture of your face every time he would have enough to make a book describing each moment.

“I know you’re so close sweetheart.” He cooed as he leaned forward his chest pressed to your back kissing under your ear sucking on the flesh nibbling down hard enough to make you cry out. Reaching a hand between your bodies slithering his way to your swollen clit. Rubbing the nub in rhythmic circles alongside his thrusting. The feeling was becoming overwhelming as your head started to spin and your vision was becoming blurry.

“‘M right there baby let go. Wanna feel that creamy cunt cum around me.” Grunting and growling like a wild animal as he could feel himself getting closer. Your moans and whimpers getting louder as your knees started to buckle making it harder to stay still.

“Come on you know that’s all I want.” He begged as you recognized the familiar clench of your stomach around his length. Using the table to keep yourself propped up entire body going limp. Tummy sagging from the intensity and pure exhaustion as you just continued to lay there. Legs shaking as he fucks you with reckless drive.

Large hands palming the rounds of your ass as he uses you as leverage. Flesh of your ass cheeks jiggling and sticking to his thighs as the coil in your stomach becomes painfully tight. A low arch to your spine as he plunged deep inside your guts and hit that sweet spot.

“Fuck me that’s it I’m cumming I’m gonna cum in that sweet cunt of yours.” You whine with various cries his cock twitching aggressively inside of you.

A sharp gasp escapes him as he can feel you clenching your tight walls around him a warm liquid flood around his cock. Keeping still as he squirts his seed in your raw cunt some of it leaking out and dripping down your thighs. The feeling was ticklish but your legs trembled with ferocity that you didn’t care.

It was as if someone turned on the hose as he pulled out swiftly watching yours and his fluids descend to the ground. In awe that you were able to hold that much inside your stuffy and swollen cunt. Keeping hold of your body and he helped ease you through your long orgasm. A sheen of sweat glistening your body like a diamond.

“Fucked that delicious cunt so good.” He proudly stated as you tried to involuntarily push that last of the milky substance from your body. Licking your dry lips trying to obtain some type of moisture.

“So proud of you my sweet girl. You did so good for me.” Praising as he now rubbed his hands up and down your sides soothingly this time. Such sweet words had you weakly smile as your eyes started to grow heavy. Thinking it was over but mistaken when you felt the soft push of his swollen head into your throbbing cunt.

“And I need more.” He growls.

[levans44]

Call me crazy, hold me down

pairing: ransom drysdale x reader

summary: you met ransom in college, working as harlan's intern. when he sees you again 10 years later, this time with an engagement ring on your hand, he’s hell-bent on finding out more. he's always had a way of getting under your skin, but this time, it’s different. times have changed—and so have you.

warnings: 18+ SMUT, power play, implied cheating, jealousy, history of FWB, degradation, light breath play, fingering, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, slight age difference, canon divergence, porn w/ plot, plot twists

word count: 3.4k

“Ransom? Ransom Drysdale?”

With a velvety swoosh of his overcoat, he turns to face you, sharp blue eyes landing on yours.

Standing in the gilded glow of the country club, Ransom Drysdale wore tradition like a second skin—rich cashmere sweater, perfectly tailored chinos, and the kind of bone-deep confidence that only old money could bestow.

Yet he wore it all with a touch of recklessness, a lazy defiance that set him apart even as he fit right in.

The burgundy scarf draped around his neck—a vibrant, unruly splash against the muted palette of the room.

And, of course, the Gucci loafers. 

With the heels stamped down flat and soles scuffed to oblivion, they made it clear that, among the desperate sea of elites clinging to pedigree, Ransom was both one of them, and something entirely another.

Soft, pink lips part, exhaling your name. 

“Shit.” The incredulity in his eyes replaced just as quickly with an unmistakable hunger, raking over your frame with no remote attempt at decency or subtlety. But then again, neither had ever been his style.

“…is that really you, Sunshine?”

Sunshine. As soon as the nickname glides off his tongue, a memory flashes into your mind - the shock of cold metal against your bare skin, warm hands gripped around your hips as they hoist you up onto a library cart, rucking up the hem of your yellow sundress. 

You blink in quick succession, chasing the thought away. 

“In the flesh.” You nod, flashing him an innocent smile. 

Head cocked in disbelief, he steps in, arms outstretched for a hug. His palm skims your lower back, the other cradling a glass of whiskey.

A heavy whiff of cologne envelops you, that familiar scent of rich vanilla and cedarwood, and it’s all the confirmation you need to know that nothing has changed.

Harvard class of ’11 and '15, side-by-side members of Phi Beta Kappa honor society. 

You’d earned it through countless late nights and waitressing shifts, scrimping and saving just to make ends meet. And him? Well, a shiny new literature building bearing the Thrombey name may have tipped the scales.

For a moment, you let your nose brush against the soft fabric of his cable-knit sweater, whiter than the streaks of cocaine that marked his habits at Harvard’s exclusive club meetings.

As you start to pull back, you catch a flash of your reflection in his aviators, hanging from his collar—a spitting image of the Hamptons elite, you know you’ve never looked better. 

Knows he knows it too, evident in the way his fingers linger over your arm as he pulls back. 

“Whatcha been up to?”  

“Oh, you know, just making ends meet.”

 You sigh, twirling your fingers around the empty glass in your hand. 

“…how’s Harlan doing?”

Hand-picked by the infamous novelist for a summer internship your freshman year, it was Harlan who had introduced you to his other intern. Ransom was a senior then, neither grateful nor interested in the opportunity you had to fight tooth and nail for. 

“Well, old man hasn’t kicked it yet.” 

Ransom sighs, shoulders sagging with an undeniable air of annoyance as his hand leaves your side, stepping back to down sixty dollars worth of whiskey in one go. His adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, eyes wandering down to the empty martini glass by your hip. He glances back up, licking his lips and pointing a signet ring-clad finger in your direction. 

“Espresso?”

You shake your head, eyes darting down to your glass. 

“Vodka.”

He chuckles, nodding his head.

“Of course. Classic.”

You don’t dwell on his words, nor the suggestive wink he shoots your way as he heads in the direction of the bar, about to fetch you both another round.

You wince, reaching forward to stop him in his tracks.

“Oh no, Ran, you don’t have to.”

With a raised brow, his gaze drops to where your hand rests on his forearm. You pull your hand back abruptly, as if singed by his stare. 

A flicker of something possessive crosses his features, new interest lighting up his eyes. 

Jaw unclenching as he settles on that familiar smirk, though it’s a little stiffer this time. 

He raises his chin, cocking his head to the side, and the bridge of his nose catches the lighting of the overhead chandelier. 

A small twitch in his brow as he murmurs:

“Married, huh?”

You nod softly, pursing your lips as you glance down at the glistening stone on your ring finger. 

“Engaged.”

“Huh.” He murmurs, blinking.

His gaze falters for a moment before they find yours again. Eyes narrowed as he leans in, voice dropping two pegs:

“You know, between us, I always thought I’d be the one to get married first.”

You let out a soft laugh, amusement lighting up your eyes.

“Meaning you thought I’d never get married.”

He shrugs, mirroring the smile on your face.

“Can you blame me? I mean let’s face it…”

Lips inches away from yours, a devilish grin splitting his face wide open. 

“….neither of us were really the marriage type.”

And your heart skips a beat, a raw memory edging its way into your mind.

Coarse upholstery scraping against your cheek, the quiet creaks of wooden furniture ringing across the dorm common room—he’s got you bent over a worn-out couch, holding you down by the neck as he sneers in your ear. 

‘Does your little boyfriend fuck you like this?’

You blink slowly, raising your brows with a quiet breath. 

“That was over 10 years ago, Ransom. I’ve changed.”

He chuckles loudly, head cocking in a silent challenge.

“Is that right?” 

Leans in even closer to your ear, close enough to feel his warm, whiskey-soaked breath.

“Because by the way you’ve been staring at my lips, I’d disagree.” 

Pink lips curl around a set of bright, sharp teeth as he grins, the edges of his wool coat dancing around your frame.

You freeze, breath hitching in your throat as he leans down, his lips grazing your ear and leaving a searing mark—like the red-hot tip of a cigarette against your skin.

“…tell me, Sunshine, you think you can keep your hands off me all night?” 

“Who is it?”

“Hmm?” You mumble, mind half gone from the way his hands were gripping your hips, ass pressed against the cold marble of the bathroom sink as he rucks your tennis skirt around your waist.

The scent of expensive liquor and mint fill your senses as he grumbles against your pulse point, voice coarse and low. 

“That schmuck you’re marrying.”

He pulls back from the space below your jaw and in the split second your eyes meet his—a viridescent streak of emerald amidst all that smug blue. And you know.

An electric jolt rips through your stomach, equal parts thrill and disbelief, and you throw your head back, letting out an incredulous laugh.

“Drysdale, are you seriously jealous?”

He scoffs, but his hand tightens around the swell of your hips, his ring digging into the soft flesh. Suddenly yanks you to the edge of the marble counter as you gasp, grasping at his sweater-clad chest for balance. 

“You really think I’m the jealous type, Sunshine?” he murmurs, nose brushing against yours as he splays his hand over your exposed knee, warming up the skin. 

Then, with deliberate slowness, drags the blunt tips of his nails up the inside of your thigh, making you visibly shudder.

“Still a fan of that move, huh?” He grins, satisfaction gleaming in his eyes.

Ignoring your half-assed attempts to push him away, he continues to trail his fingers upward until they find their way to your core, thumbing the outline of your sex through the damp fabric of your panties.

“…so who is he?” He taunts, gripping you in closer, lips pressed against the corner of your mouth. 

“Ransom…” you murmur, scalding under his hungry gaze as it swallows your every reaction—a sarcastic eye roll turning into a genuine show of pleasure once he shoves the flimsy lace to the side, fingertips dipping in between your folds.  

And although you had no plans of humoring his question, Ransom’s other hand flies up to clasp over your mouth, trapping the pathetic whimpers slipping off your tongue.

He shakes his head feverishly, crooning into your ear:

“Shh, wait, wait, you know what? Lemme guess.”  

You only let out a muffled groan in response, eyes rolling back into your head at the way two of his thick fingers enter your sopping cunt, agonizingly slow. 

“Let’s see… does he have a J.D.? 5 years at daddy’s law firm, promoted to senior partner before you could say nepo baby?” 

His fingertips find that plush spot deep inside you and you gasp, his palm muffling broken syllables of his name. His hand clasps tighter against your mouth, wholly ignoring you as you claw at his wrist:

“.. or, or, Wallstreet, maybe? You living out your dreams of being a little trophy wife, sweetheart?”

Pulls out only to add a third finger, shoving his hand deeper between your legs, forcing your knees further apart. You groan at the added stretch and he only smirks, continuing to pump his fingers in and out while ignoring your desperate gaze. 

“Ok, and this might be my personal favorite….” 

A feral flash of teeth as he grins, curling his fingers upward. You can't help but arch your back, your gasp still muffled by his hand over your mouth. 

“…is he one of those self-made, go-getter types? Daddy ditched mommy without a dime so he had to scholarship his way through some shitty state college?”

Faster now, dragging his palm against your clit, hand soaked with your arousal.

“Turned his life around with dedication and work ethic. Is that what you’re telling yourself, Sunshine?”

Eyes squeezed shut, you cling onto the fabric of his coat for dear life as his fingers stroke your g-spot over and over. 

“So what’s it gonna be, sweetheart? Bachelor number 1, 2, or 3?” 

He whispers, releasing his grip from around your mouth as you gasp for air, his now-free hand dropping down to his belt buckle. 

“F-fuck you, Ransom, He’s…ah, shit—“ 

A clink of designer metal is all the warning you get before he’s burying himself in you, replacing his fingers with the head of his fat cock. The words dissolve on your tongue as he pushes inside at a glacial pace, prolonging the ache of the stretch. Drags it out just as slowly, delivering a sharp slap against your clit, before sinking back in. 

Your eyes flutter shut at the obscenity of it all, the shameless lick of his lips as he smirks at your obvious embarrassment. 

“Fuck, look at you.” He murmurs to himself as he snakes an arm around your waist, pulling you in for a searing kiss, his tongue pushing past your teeth as he sets out on a relentless rhythm.

Pulls back with a wet smack to raise his free hand up to your mouth, coated thoroughly with your slick. Pushes three fingers past your lips, thrusting them down your throat, deep enough to make you gag. Your eyes roll back, clenching around his cock as you arch your back, sucking feverishly. 

“That’s it, show me how much you want it.”

And with his fingers still shoved down your throat, he smirks, tugging your head down to meet his gaze.

“Bet he doesn’t fuck you this good, huh?”

The glare you manage to give him as you gurgle around his fingers is just the edge he needs, letting out a loud groan as he snaps his hips into you harder, the sound of skin slapping against skin ringing across the bathroom tiles. 

Your climax arrives with a strangled cry as your eyes squeeze shut, legs trembling as waves of ecstasy crash over you, your core spasming around his cock. 

While you struggle to catch your breath, Ransom’s thrusts become erratic, grunts growing deeper in an all-too-familiar way. He pulls out with a shudder, guiding your left hand between your thighs to wrap around his slick cock. The engagement ring glints under the dim lighting as you stroke him in quick, firm pulses. Ransom hisses, eyes zeroing in on the hand wrapped around him as he finishes with a throaty groan, streaking your inner thigh with his release.  

A soft jangle of his belt as he slides the buckle into place, while you carefully slide off the marble surface, steadying yourself. 

“You still haven’t answered my question, Sunshine. Don’t I deserve to know what kind of loser managed to tie you down?” 

You’re still breathing heavy, light-headed and buzzing, yet you manage to choke out:

“… fuck off, Drysdale, he’s a bigger man than you’ll ever be.”

He lets out a sharp laugh, hand flying up to grab your chin, smearing spit and remnants of your arousal over your lips. 

Gives you a bruising kiss, teeth and all, just because he can.

Pulls back with a wet smack, flashing you a smirk that chills you to the bone.

“Yeah? Is that why I just fucked his fiancée in a country club bathroom?”

Three days later...

“Ransom Drysdale, you’re under arrest for attempted murder of the first degree. You have the right to remain silent. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot—“

Ransom’s sharp chuckle interrupts the arresting officer mid-sentence. His gaze snaps over to you, standing in the corner of the living room, arms crossed and watching intently. 

He barks out your name, laced with disdain. 

“You’re a cop? You gotta be shitting me.”

You take slow, deliberate steps toward him as the officer finishes reciting his Miranda rights, yanking Ransom’s balled-up fists into a set of cuffs. Ransom’s not foolish enough to resist, but he squares his shoulders, holding his ground as you approach him. When you’re close enough, he leans in, his voice dropping to a low growl, face inches from yours.

“You slut.” He spits, all nine circles of Hell swirling in his eyes. “You think you can fuck me over like this and get away with it?” 

He huffs out a breath, nostrils flaring. Glances up past your shoulder at Benoit Blanc, standing in the archway of the foyer.

“… this isn’t over. I’ll see all your asses in court. You hear me?”

You tilt your head, eyes gleaming with satisfaction as you glance black at the arresting officer, silently signaling for one last moment. 

“You know, it’s so funny you mention that, Ransom.”

Crimson lips raised into sharp peaks as you smile, taking another step forward.

“Can I share a secret?” You lean in, voice barely a whisper.

“Guess who’s leading the prosecution on your trial?”

You watch as his scowl falters, a flicker of confusion that douses the fire in his gaze.

4 years of shitty undergrad, putting up with entitled assholes like Ransom Drysdale, all so you could graduate at the top of your class and land a full ride to Yale Law. Youngest prosecutor in the state of Massachusetts to hold the title of Attorney General, just freshly appointed last week, and with a perfect record to boot.

Just one look at your first case—a claim filed by Harlan’s home care nurse who suspected foul play, that someone had switched the labels on her med vials, nearly forcing her to administer a fatal dosage—and you knew who had dunnit. 

Pulled a few strings to get on the shortlist for the exclusive country club that Ransom frequented, and a flash of your left hand plus a couple drinks back at his place was all it took. 

Inebriated from the whiskey and drunk off his arrogance—anything for his sweet, innocent ray of sunshine, lapping up tales of his grandiose plans with wide-eyed admiration.

How he had swapped the labels, how he managed to cover his tracks. 

How a damn Brazilian nurse foiled it all with her selfless resolve, getting Harlan to the ER even after administering the correct medication. 

It was everything you needed to build a complete case against him.   

You living out your dreams of being a little trophy wife, sweetheart?

Eat shit, Drysdale.

“So what.” Ransom spits, rolling his eyes, but the mask slips just another inch further.

“You don’t think my lawyers can get me out of this? It’s attempted murder, for fucks sake.”

“Hmm, I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” You step in closer, cocking your head to the side.

“You know, Ran, first-degree attempted murder is punishable for life in prison in Massachusetts.”

Even closer now, his face just inches from yours, breath hot and jagged against your lips. 

“Hire all the fucking lawyers you want — I don’t lose, asshole.”

A silence that feels like forever as his eyes dart furiously between yours, nostrils flaring.

And when he fails to find the familiar submission in your eyes, his smug, devil-may-care bravado is broken with a quick twitch in his brow—a brief flicker of realization, concealed just as quickly under a mask of rage. He lunges forward, looking just about ready to break out of his cuffs and wring both his hands around your neck. The officer yanks back on his arms in warning.

You don’t so much as flinch.

“You vile. fucking. bitch.” He hisses, gritting through his teeth.

“Hmm, takes one to know one.”

You smile, promptly stepping back as the arresting officer hauls Ransom away. 

“You slut! I’m gonna ruin your life, you hear me?” The sound of jangling metal cuffs rings out in the foyer as he’s dragged out of his grandfather's estate, past Blanc who simply sidesteps Ransom’s loud tirade.

“… get the fuck off me!”

“See you in court, Mr. Drysdale!”

You call, waving from the front door of the Thrombey mansion, watching the outline of Ransom’s designer sweater get shoved unceremoniously into the back of a police vehicle. 

Through the tinted windows of the back seat, you catch the glimpse of a man stripped of his mask, a ghost from your past, face twisted in fury and defeat.

“Miss, didn’t nobody tell you that gloatin’s in poor taste?”

A low, southern drawl croons from beside you. 

You flash a smile at Benoit Blanc, who’s watching the police car pull out of the driveway behind a lit cigar, an equally satisfied expression on his face.

“Oh, I think a little gloating may be warranted.”

"Ya know... the way you’ve pieced this all together is mighty impressive. You sure I can't convince you of a career as a private investigator?”

You laugh, watching the police car disappear through the dense woods.

“That’s kind of you, detective, but the courtroom’s where I belong.”

You purse your lips, thumb absentmindedly rubbing against the band on your ring finger. 

“Plus, I… may have cheated my way in a little with this one.”

Blanc shrugs, smiling around his cigar.

“I figured as much, seeing as how you and Mr. Drysdale were on a first-name basis.”

You let out a small sigh, turning to face Blanc as you extend a hand. 

“It’s been a pleasure, detective. Couldn’t have done it without your insight.”

“Oh, the pleasure’s all mine.”

Cigar hanging from his lips, Blanc shakes your hand with a firm grip, before the shiny stone on your finger catches his eye, glinting in the afternoon sun. 

“…that’s a nice ring you got there, ma’am. Must be a lucky fella.”

He flashes you a wink, and you have to fight the urge to smile, realizing why this strange character of a man was heralded as the world’s greatest P.I. 

After Blanc leaves you with a tip of his hat, you take a few steps out into the sprawling yard of the Thrombey mansion, turning around to take in the full view of the estate. 

‘Playing life like a game without consequence…’ 

Harlan’s words echo in your head—one of the many nights you’d stayed over late, helping him finalize manuscripts while Ransom was out partying. 

‘….untill you can't tell the difference between a stage prop and a real knife.’

Lucky you that Ransom couldn’t tell 10-dollar cubic zirconia from a real diamond, either. 

After taking one final glance at the estate, you start your descent down the hill of the Thrombey estate, twisting the ring off your finger and tossing it into the dense shrubbery where it vanishes from view.

“So long, Drysdale.”

A/N: so uhm... this might be the filthiest thing I've ever written? hope you enjoyed the little reveals in the story, had to stay true to the og genre. title credit to fiona apple

[lilacevans]

𝑛𝑜𝑤, 𝑖 𝑑𝑜 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑎𝑠𝑘… 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑢𝑎𝑙 𝑓𝑢𝑐𝑘 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑔𝑜𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑛 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑜?

𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒔𝒐𝒐𝒏 ༊*·˚ | take a peak here! •°. *࿐

✧* meet the brothers | meet the uncles | check out the playlist *✧

the concept *✧ ༊*·˚

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ -> gif set one - pete finds out

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ -> gif set two - ari meets with his uncle

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ -> gif set three - the boys are arguing, again

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ -> gif set four - anywhere you want | pete brenner

meet the family *✧ ༊*·˚

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐬: 𝐀𝐑𝐈 | 𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐒 | 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐕𝐄 | 𝐉𝐀𝐊𝐄 | 𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐄 | 𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐘𝐃

*updated daily!

the introduction *✧ ༊*·˚

opening night *✧ ༊*·˚

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ -> pete's place: the regulars

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ -> visitor: ransom drysdale

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ -> pete's place: the staff (coming soon!)

pete's place presents: the drabbles. *✧ ༊*·˚

*minors need not interact. this is a 18+ space.

*this is a dark au, with heavy topics & triggers. happy endings do not happen here.

[hutchersonsgurl]

Gurlll

[caplanbuckybarnes]

Under the Stars (Steve Rogers)

Summary: You and Steve spend time together star gazing.

WC: 590ish

Warnings: Fluff

Read on Ao3!

--

The quiet hum of the city settled around you as you found yourself sitting on the rooftop of the Avengers Tower. The night sky was a deep velvet, dotted with stars that twinkled like diamonds. You leaned back on your hands, soaking in the cool breeze and the soft sounds of the city below. It was peaceful up here, away from the chaos of the world.

Steve Rogers joined you a moment later, the familiar sound of his boots softly hitting the rooftop breaking the tranquillity. He settled beside you, his presence warm and comforting. You glanced at him, the way the moonlight danced across his features, casting gentle shadows on his jawline.

“Beautiful night, isn’t it?” he said, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips as he took in the view.

“Absolutely,” you replied, your heart fluttering as he turned to face you. “But I think the stars are even brighter up here.”

He raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth quirking up in that charming way that always made your heart skip. “You’re not just saying that because I’m here, are you?”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “No. It’s just… it feels special. Like the universe is reminding us of all the good things.”

His expression softened as he looked at you. “You know, I used to think I understood what it meant to be a hero, and Captain America. But being with you has shown me that there’s so much more to it.”

You turned to him fully, curiosity sparking in your eyes. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” he began, pausing to gather his thoughts, “being a hero isn’t just about fighting battles and crimes. It’s about the people you fight for. And you… you make everything worth it, you always have.”

Your breath caught in your throat as the weight of his words settled between you. You felt your cheeks flush, and you looked away, tracing patterns in the concrete with your eyes.

“Steve, I—”

Before you could finish, he gently turned your face back to him, his blue eyes searching yours. “I hope the heavens know how much I adore you,” he said softly, sincerity flooding his voice. 'I hope they know I would do anything in my power to show you how deeply I care about you."

Your heart raced at his confession. You could see the truth in his eyes; in that moment, the world around you faded away. All that existed was the two of you, suspended in time under the vast expanse of the universe.

“I adore you too,” you whispered, barely able to contain the swell of emotion rising within you.

A grin spread across his face, transforming his features with a boyish charm. He reached out, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. The gentle touch sent shivers down your spine, and you leaned into his hand instinctively.

“Do you want to make a wish?” he asked, nodding towards the sky.

You smiled, your heart swelling with hope. “What should I wish for?”

“Maybe for more nights like this,” he suggested, his voice low and intimate.

You took a deep breath, letting the moment wash over you. “I think I’ll wish for you,” you said, your heart laid bare. “Always.”

With that, Steve leaned in closer, his forehead resting against yours. The connection felt electric, and the air between you crackled with unspoken promises.

“Always,” he echoed, and at that moment, under the watchful gaze of the stars, you both knew that this was just the beginning.

[lanabuckybarnes]

| Lady Blue |

Falling in love with your best friend wasn't something you ever anticipated, you had a role to fulfil and your hand was sold. Yet your heart longed for him.

✧Pairing✧ Knight!Steve Rogers x Princess!Reader (Fem)

✧Warnings✧ Fluff, A Little Angst, Talks of Arranged marriage, John Walker (ew), Name Calling, like the teeniest bit of violence, Hurt, Brief mention of injury, Sweet ending

✧Word Count✧ 2.1k

✧Author Note ✧ I WROTE SOMETHING THAT ISNT SMUT!! — happy birthday Stevie Rogers 🥳

You don’t know when it happened, when that little crush became something more, when the hugs became intimate and the kisses were on the lips rather than on the cheeks.

Steve Rogers, your best friend. You’d been born beds apart, your mother a queen and her best friend a noblewoman. You weren’t sure if they planned it or it was fate but they both ended up with child and gave birth almost exactly on the same day.

Steve was headstrong, and a leader. He always made sure you were safe and protected, it was cute how doting he was because ‘he was older’. You were quick to comment how it was only by a few hours.

You were inseparable as kids, spending most of your time in the fields of blue flowers that decorated the walk to the large castle. It’s how you earned the name, Lady Blue - a flower crown of blue atop your head always.

Your infatuation grew for him as you aged into a teen, you weren’t around each other as much because of duties taking up most of your time but you remembered something about absence making the heart grow fonder and you could attest to that.

Steve was away most of the time on the other end of the city, training in the ring to become a knight, his dream. You were stuck in the palace, studying history and languages to be a great queen although you spent much of your time staring out of the window and imagining you and Steve doing the same things you did as kids. Living.

You lied.

You remember exactly when it happened.

Steve's graduation, he finally wore his purple cloak and had his royal etched sword around his hip. Drinks flowed left and right, the night filled with laughter and singing, all muffled behind the thick glass doors leading out to the courtyard where you and Steve sat watching the birds bathe in the fountain.

“How was it?” You asked, both hands soothing over his larger, calloused one, running over each scar and healing wound he donned.

He breathed out slowly, as though you were one of the small birds that he had to tiptoe around so he didn’t scare them off. He knew that you would never be scared of him but he couldn’t shake that feeling, you were so dainty beside him. To think that once upon a time you were a head taller than him.

“It was fine, made some friends” he nodded off to a pair of iron-clad men clinging to each other singing an old folk tune. “Sam and Bucky, they’re wild but they are good guys.”

The air around you thickened if it were possible, something going unsaid between you two, a rope pulled taut that threatened to snap. Steve’s eyes studied you, thoroughly enjoying the sight of you by his side. You looked beautiful, eyes twinkling in the moonlight as your eyes returned to the fountain, your hair shining. You had grown up and become such a beautiful soul that he knew you were.

“I missed you.”

“Hm?” You looked up at him, confusion and curiosity carved onto your features.

“I thought of you all the time being out there, when it got tough and I needed some of those princess bear hugs you gave me” You giggled at his words, bringing about his chuckle. Your knees knocked as you leaned closer, resting your head against his shoulder.

“I missed you too Stevie.”

“Princess” he murmured after a moment, taking a few deep breaths to quieten his pounding heart, although when he looked down at you it skipped beat after beat anyway.

“Ser Rogers” you teased with a cheeky smirk, the sparkle in your hues growing as you almost challenged him to speak. I dare you, your eyes cried out to him.

Steve was never one to back down from a dare.

His lips were on yours before you could even think, embracing yours in a way that left you dizzy before shocking you into action and kissing back with the same ferocity.

Snap, that rope between you broke.

After that night you’d both chosen to keep your love a secret, your father was strict and unforgiving, he would not stand for his daughter dating someone lower than a future heir despite it not being your choice. Even years later, both of you adults still sneaked around like you did when you were teens.

Your door shook with heavy knocks, Ser Barnes’ voice booming from the other end.

“My Princess, the King wishes to see you at once.”

You groaned and let your eyes fall shut again until soft kisses trailing up your shoulder and neck brought a smile upon your face.

“Come on Lady Blue, can’t disappoint Father now” he joked, deep voice raspy from sleep, vibrating against your ear.

Even after all these years each moment you spent with him felt like you were falling in love with him for the first time, diving straight off the deep end and into your sheets with him.

You stood, helping him into his gear so he could slink off and allow your handmaidens in to help you dress.

“I love you” he whispered into the top of your head, placing a chaste kiss there before tilting your chin up to slant his lips against your own. Despite the shortness of it, you were left breathless when he parted, turning on his heel professionally and making his exit.

A ball of dread settled in your stomach at the thought of today’s meeting with your father. For months now he’d been adamant that you were to be married by the end of the year and set about finding suitors, each time you rejected them he’d bring up another. But you loved Steve too much.

You knew it wouldn’t last forever, it couldn’t. You were noble, bound to marry a prince and join two kingdoms in matrimony. He was a knight, he swore an oath to protect you from harm, nothing more.

All of that knowledge didn’t help it hurt any less when you stepped into the throne room, your eyes landing on potentially the worst prince your father had brought to you yet.

The king from the neighbouring place and his son, John Walker. A self-proclaimed prophet that was bound to rule all over the land.

“You will marry Prince John Walker” your father announced, the smug sneer on the prince’s face had you wishing you’d had breakfast before coming here so you could have something in your stomach to throw up.

You were bound to marry a pompous, arrogant, narcissistic man and leave the man who’d loved you since day dot.

You wouldn’t stand for it.

“I will not marry John” You challenged, something you’d only done a handful of times in your life. Your father’s nostrils flared, his jaw clenching and eyes wild.

“Excuse me?”

“I will not marry him” You repeated.

“You don’t have a choice young lady” he rose from his throne, stomping down the steps until his face was in yours. Your legs wobbled as you tried to stand your ground against your father's presence.

“You will marry Prince Walker, you will join our kingdoms and you will bear his heirs, I am sick of you rejecting everyone I introduce you to so I made the decision myself.”

“I won’t” you yelled this time, hurt and angry bubbling into rage “because I love another.”

The words slipped out your mouth, your hand slapping around your face far too slow to catch them.

The room fell silent. Pin drop silent. Steve stood at the entrance of the hall, head hung low to hide the reddening of his face, his hands clamping into fists at his side.

“Who?” Your father’s hand clamped onto your chin, your jaw throbbing in pain at the hold.

“Ser Rogers” you hissed, falling into a pile of clothes and pain when your father’s hand let you go.

“You wench!” he spat in disgust.

You tried to argue, tried to plead with your father but he shrugged you off.

“Ser Barnes, take my daughter back to her room, I want some time with Ser Rogers. Alone.”

You didn’t struggle as Ser Barnes picked you up from the floor, hoisting you over his shoulder. You couldn’t even look at Steve when you walked by.

Ser Barnes set you down on your bed softly, patting the top of your head as you stared off into space, tears rolling down your cheeks. He left and came back with a small glass of water and a muffin which you refused to eat.

Once Bucky left you crawled up to the head of your bed, stuffing your face into your pillow and staining it with black from your mascara. Your door was on constant watch in case you got any big ideas. The Blue Daisy’s had bloomed but you couldn’t leave, you weren’t allowed to leave.

As day turned into night you shifted to look out at the setting sun. Your dinner lay untouched on your table, your focus set firmly on the world outside, families rushing to pack up their markets before the evening rain.

“Lady Blue” you recognised the voice.

“Bucky?”

“Can I come in?” He asked. You hummed your confirmation and the huge brunette slipped in.

“Steve—he’s being shipped off. Tonight.” He explained his stormy eyes on you, watching you process the information.

“So what? It’s not like I can stop it” You answered bitterly, a shell of the woman you usually were. There was no hint of cheer or teasing in your tone like there once was, it had all been left in that throne room.

You took note of his heavy sigh before he inched further into the room, Only then did you gaze up at him. In his hands was a set of clothes, the kind commoners wore along with a large black cloak and a purple velvet pouch.

“Do you love him?” He asked, eyes searching yours.

“More than anything” you replied without hesitation.

“Then we better move.”

“W-what do you mean?” You stood, head tilted and brows furrowed. You just barely caught the clothes that Bucky threw at you.

“His ship leaves in an hour, if you don’t hurry and get changed we’ll miss it”.

You could’ve kissed Bucky.

The shipyards reeked of fish and shit, but you couldn’t care about that. Not now. Hopping off of Bucky’s white steed you pat its neck before looking up at him.

“Thank you, Buck, I don’t know how I can repay you.”

He smiled, taking your hand in his and kissing your knuckles.

“You can get on that ship and live your life Lady Blue. I’ll see you soon” he flashed you one of his pearly white smiles and turned the horse, setting off the way he’d come.

You darted onto the ship, eyes scanning the faces of workers and guests until they fell on the man that you were doing all of this for. Any doubt that boiled in your stomach melted away leaving only one thing remaining, that deep love that Steve gave you. He didn’t turn until you were standing in front of him.

“Princess?” his shocked voice sounded as he looked up at you. He looked tired, his skin pale and a nasty bruise was forming over his cheekbone. No doubt thanks to your father.

“I’m here” you squeaked as he pulled you down into his arms, his warm body and vanilla scent putting you at ease instantly despite the incessant rocking of the ship.

“You're here” he replied, words vibrating against your hairline before he tilted your chin up and stole your lips in a kiss. Just like he had stolen your heart.

“So you do that…yep and then you twist the stalk around…that’s it!!” You cheered as your son finally wrapped the flower correctly, his big blue eyes almost disappearing behind his lids as he squealed in excitement.

“What’s all the yelling about huh?” Steve emerged, tanned skin glowing, covered in a layer of sweat and dirt, an axe resting over his shoulder.

“Daddy look” your son preened, raising the bundle of blue flowers high in the air so the blonde could see.

“Ahhh is Mama teaching you her old tricks huh?” He smiled, kneeling to place a soft kiss on his forehead before doing the same to you.

“Mhmm gotta make sure he can help me every year, isn’t that right baby?” You plopped your finished flower crown onto Steve’s head before ruffling your son's curly locks.

Despite the running, the fighting and the endless struggle to get to where you were now, you could say you’d do it all again to be sat between your handsome husband and his doppelgänger son—in a field of blue daisies. You would do it all again to be home.

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~

[chxrryhansen]

Steve with a MASSIVE breeding kink mmmmffffgggg…. 🤤

- 🌸

hi baby🥺 i’m so sorry that it took me this long to get to your ask, steve is such a family man so this always makes me go wild.

₊♡₊˚ 🎀・₊✧

“oh fuckkk”

you moaned as steve continued to thrust inside of you, hitting your cervix and bottoming out with each thrust.

“yeah, you like that? you like it when daddy fucks this slutty hole?” he taunted from above, his blond locks sticking to his forehead in concentration, angling his hips just right, hitting your g spot.

“love it daddy, so so much, you fuck me s’ good.” you whined, hips writhing on his thick length.

he let out a deep groan as your cunt clenched around him, “such a good little whore for daddy, always letting me fill you up with my fat cock.. maybe it’s about time you let me fill that pretty pussy with somethn’ else, hmm?”

you threw your head back in ecstasy at the thought of how good his cum filling you up would feel, letting out a high pitch, almost pornographic moan.

“fuck. you love idea of that, huh baby? it’s okay, daddy’s gonna’ fuck this slutty cunt til’ my cums leakin’ down your legs for days. can’t wait to see your tummy grow n’ watch you mother my children.” he growled, his arm wrapping around your throat, squeezing harshly, forcing you to look up at him.

the room echoed with the sound of skin clapping, his hips pummelling against your ass, sure to leave bruises from the brutal force of his thrusts.

“please can i cum, daddy? wanna’ cum s’ bad.” you managed to choke out against his harsh grip.

“such a greedy girl, go ahead baby, soak daddy’s cock.”

you let out a scream as you came, the knot in your stomach finally letting loose, your cream forming a white ring around the base of steve’s shaft.

“shittt. look at the mess you made, sweet girl. creaming all over daddy’s cock like a fuckin’ whore. squeezin’ me like a fuckin’ vice, fuck. you’re gonna’ make me cum. gonna’ breed this pussy so good, get your belly all swollen n’ full of my kids.” he breathed, his abs tightening as his load came shooting out, ropes of hot, sticky, cum filling your cunt to the brim. still continuing to cum as it began leaking out of your pussy and down your thighs.

he always did stay true to his word.

[imyourbratzdoll]

Hi! I love your fics so much and wanted to send in a request if that would be okay with you!!💗 could you please do a lifeguard!Ari Levinson x Tiny!reader where she brings him lunch while he’s at work, she’s wearing a bikini… obvi. When she gets there she sees girls flirting and staring at Ari and she gets really jealous, size kink… smut? 😁

hey honey! thank you so much, I'm sorry this took so long, and I hope you like it.

summary - you go to surprise your boyfriend and get jealous over the women hanging around him.

warning - smut, angst, jealousy, daddy kink, creampie, breeding kink, swearing, public sex.

18+ only please, the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips

You wanted to surprise your partner. You decided to make his favourite food, wrapping it in cute packaging before putting it in an adorable picnic basket and wearing the sexy bikini that Ari had gifted you. You were happy as you skipped up, excited to see Ari, but you began to regret it as you got closer. Your man stood with tall, good-looking women around him, their hands touching his biceps, and they seemed to be flirting. Was this what he does when he’s here? Did you not mean anything? Were you too short? Many thoughts flew around in your mind, causing the green-eyed monster to appear. 

You can feel your inner brat begin to make its way to the surface. With a huff, you stomp your foot and angrily turn around, not feeling in the mood to have lunch with Ari anymore. You don’t notice Ari turning his head with a smile as he sees you, which slowly turns into a frown when he catches you walking away. He growls when he realises why. These stupid bimbos are always crowding him daily, and he’s learnt to zone them out, watching out for danger. They had known he was taken, but they didn’t care, and he wished he could drown them in the same ocean he was watching. 

Ari pushes the women as he stalks after you, nodding to the other lifeguard to take over for him. “Baby!” Ari huffs, breaking out into a jog as he chases after you. “Baby! Goddamit woman! Slow down!” He growls, wondering how a tiny ass woman can be so damn fast. Ari finally catches up to you, quickly getting ahead and stopping before you. He sighs when he notices the look on your face, knowing he’d have to make it up to you. “Baby girl. Where do you think you're going?” 

You roll your eyes, attempting to walk past him but feel annoyed as he stops you. “Ari, let me go. I’m not in the mood. Go back to your beach, bimbos.” You grumble, and a squeal escapes as you are suddenly lifted, your feet no longer touching the ground as Ari carries you to a secluded part of the beach. Your tiny fists hit his back, gasping as his large hand smacks your plump cheeks. 

Ari plonks you down onto the ground and stands over you. “Now, baby girl. You know I love you, and I’d never cheat on you, so why let your inner brat take over?” His hands rest on his hips before he kneels and crawls on top of you, gripping your cheeks softly. “Did my little baby come to give daddy some lunch, hmm? Did you come here wearing my favourite bikini and then get jealous thinking I’d rather have someone else?” A moan slips past your lips as he rubs his prominent bulge against your covered cunt. “Why don’t I make it up to you, baby.” You whine when he slides your bikini bottoms to the side and takes his throbbing member out. Ari lines the thick cock with your entrance before slowly pushing in, grunting with how tight you are around him. “Fuck, baby!” 

Your eyes roll to the back of your head, feeling your walls spasm wildly around his cock as he continues to push in deeper and deeper, stretching you open from the inside. Your hands fly to his back, digging your nails into his flesh as your head flies back. “Daddy! Daddy! Oh fuck!” You whine and moan, wrapping your tiny legs around his giant body. Your screams echo as he begins to pound into you, fucking you hard and deep, marking you, claiming you. 

“Fuck, you feel so fucking good, baby. Why would I want someone else when I have you, huh?” Ari growls, holding your tiny body down as he destroys you, taking you apart underneath him. His cock splits you open, drilling into you until you wither underneath him, your back arches, and your eyes roll to the back of your head as your arousal squirts out of you and covers him. “Yeah, that’s right, baby. Squirt for daddy.” Ari’s hand slithers between you and plays with your swollen clit, prolonging your orgasm. His balls tighten, and his cock begins to twitch wildly before thick amounts of cum spurt out of him and deep into you, stuffing you full of him. “Gonna pump you full of me, let everyone know your mine, and I’m yours as your round with my child.” You whimper underneath him, cumming at his words. 

Ari leans down and places a soft kiss on your lips, holding you close to him as he strokes your cheek. “I love you so much, baby. You’re my little doll.”

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[andydrysdalerogers]

You Belong With Me ~ Johnny Storm

Ranch Hand! Johnny Storm x Rancher’s Daughter!Reader 

Summary: Your best friend is in love with you. You just don’t know it yet… 

Song: You Belong With Me by Taylor Swift 

Word Count: 6.7k 

Warnings: angst, pet death, pining, minor domestic violence, smut! (Oral-female receiving, masturbation, p in v, loss of virginity)  

Banners by me! Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Main Master List

Please note that I do not give permission for my work to be translated, reposted, or published anywhere other than my Tumblr. Reblogs and likes are most welcome though!

Johnny POV

I’m in love with my best friend.  Problem is, she doesn’t know that.  

Three years ago, I started working on the YLN Rainbow Ranch for her father, Mr. YLN. First day on the job, I was told not to harass his daughter.  For weeks, I never met the girl in question. Then one day, a girl was in the stable, stroking the nose of one of the horses, Daisy.  

“Hey Miss? You’re not supposed to be here,” I called out.  It was close to dusk, and I was closing for the night. I walked over to the girl and tapped her shoulder. She jumped back, tripping on me. I caught her before she hit the ground. She popped a headphone out of her ear.   

“You scared me!” She looked at me with bright, wide eyes, her skin flawless, her hair in curly pigtails. She’s beautiful and I’m stunned. “Hey, let me go.” That’s when I realized that I’ve caught her in a dip and she’s looking up at me.  

I move quickly to get her on her feet, and I pull my cap off and run a nervous hand through my hair.  “Sorry, miss. The stables are closing.”  

“Its ok, I live here.  YN,” she offers her hand.  

“Johnny, I’m one of the ranch hands.”  

“Oh, cool. Sorry I’ve been away and only just got back from camp.”  

“That’s nice,” I tell her, trying not to stare.  

She looked at me curiously. “How old are you?” 

“Eighteen. You?” 

She looked shocked. “A gentleman should never ask a lady her age.”  

I chuckled. “Something tells me you ain’t no lady.”  

She giggled. “I’m fifteen.”  

Fuck, she’s jailbait. “Well, did you need someone to walk you back to the house?” 

She saw that it was getting dark, and she smiled.  “I would like that.”  

I knew I was risking my hide and my job if her father thought I was doing anything inappropriate. So I keep enough room between us as we walked.  “So, camp? How was that?” 

“Long but fun. I’m considered a counselor now so I get to be in charge but the kids are great, so it was just a fun sleepover.” She shrugged. “I don’t know if I’ll do it again. I’d rather ride my horse all summer.”  

“Let me guess. Your horse is Daisy?” 

“Good guess. I’ve had her since I started riding at four. She’s my best friend. She listens to me and doesn’t judge me. Kinda like you,” she tells me. “You don’t talk a lot.”  

“Not really. My mouth usually gets me in trouble.” I smirk. “My twin sister says that my mouth can get me in and out of trouble.”  

“I can see that.” She gives me her own smirk. We get to her door. “Thanks for walking me back.”  

“Any time, Cowgirl.”  

“See ya, Cowboy.”  

It’s been that way for three years. Every day I worked hard and at night, YN would visit me in the barn as I finished for the day. I’d walk her home and say good night. When she was having a hard day, I would climb to her window and whisper with her, never going inside for fear of her father finding me.  

Until one day, she stopped coming to the barn.  

Three years later… 

I was closing up the barn, waiting for YN, when I saw another car pull up to the house. I saw a guy get out and knock on the door. I watched as my YN came out with a smile and a pretty dress and took the hand of the guy that wasn’t me. She climbed into the car, and they drove off.  

She took my heart with her. 

It was her senior year. She is eighteen now. And I wanted to ask her out but I was too late. I finished my duties, headed to my own truck and went to the bar, to drown my sorrows.  

The next morning was brutal. I barely made it to work on time with the hangover of the century.  

Time went on and I did my job, caring for the horses, getting them out to the yard for exercise or grooming. It had been about three months since YN had started dating Ransom. What the hell kinda name was Ransom anyway? I kept my thoughts to myself. YN would still visit me on occasion, gushing about her new beau and how perfect he was. I tried to be as supportive has possible as her best friend but it killed me inside,  

One March afternoon, I went to take the horses out to their yard. We had another month before we started moving cattle so I got them to roam and exercise as best I could. I went to Daisy’s stall, but she wasn’t herself. She whines and stamps; she was in distress. I ran for YN’s father.  “Mr. YLN! You gotta call the vet! Something is wrong with Daisy!” He pulled out his phone as I ran back to the horse.  

“It's ok girl, we’ll get you all fixed up, you’ll see.” I stoked her neck and nose, trying to calm her. Fifteen minutes later, Doc Brown, the vet, came in and did a check.  I tried to keep her calm as he checked on her.  

After a few minutes, Doc removed his glasses. “I’m sorry Mr. YLN. Daisy has twisted gut. Normally I would say surgery but given her age, I don’t think that’s wise. It would just cause more pain.”  

“Shit.” Her father looked up to blink back tears. “I need to call YNN.”  

“I can do it, Mr. YLN,” I offered. He nodded as he discussed logistics with Doc. I reached for my phone and called, taking a deep breath as it rang. 

“Hey Cowboy!” 

“Hey Cowgirl. Where are you?” 

“I’m having lunch with Mama. Why?” 

I tried to keep my voice steady. “YN, I need you to come to the horse barn right now.”  

“Is everything ok?” 

“No. It’s Daisy.”  

“Daisy? Mama, we have to go. I’ll be right there, Johnny.” She hung up and I turned to Doc and Mr. YLN. “YN and Mrs. YLN are on the way.”  

“Thanks Johnny. Can you stick around?”  

“Sure.” I hung back as they moved Daisy to a bigger stall so she would have more room. I’ve seen animals put down before but not one that was considered more family than anything else. Twenty minutes later, YN came running in. “Daddy! Johnny! What’s going on? Why is Diasy in there?” 

Her father puts his hands on her shoulders. “Sweetheart, Daisy has twisted gut. Doc tried to fix it but the only way to do that is with surgery.”  

“Ok. Are they getting ready for that?” She asks with hope.  

Mr. YLN sighs. “No baby. She’s too old for that. We have to…” 

“No,” she backs away. “No, she’s my Daisy! You can’t…” She runs into the pen with Daisy and hangs onto her neck, sobbing uncontrollably. We all give her some time as I help Doc get everything ready.  

“It’s time, YNN,” her dad calls.  

“Daddy, please, don’t let them do this. Let’s fix her, please!”she cries.  

“If I thought it would be the best thing for her, if Doc thought she would survive, I would. But she’s an old girl and its time. I’m so sorry sweetheart.” He tries to hug his daughter, but she wiggles free and runs right into my arms. I hold her tight, feeling her tears run through her body. I look at my boss and his heart his broken for his little girl.  

“Do you want to stay, YN? We can wait outside if…” 

“No,” she cuts me off, “I want to stay with her.”  

“Ok, we can stay. I’ll hold your hand if you want.” 

She turned away from me but kept my hand in hers. “I’m r-ready, Doc.”  

“Ok, I’ll inject a sedative to put her to sleep and then administer the narcotic. She won’t feel anything, YN.”  

She nods but goes to Daisy one more time. “I love you, Daisy. Thank you for being my best friend.” She kisses her nose one more time before she comes back to me. She grips my hand hard. I see her father eyeing me warily. But I stand tall.  

Once the doc administered the last dose, YN wailed and turned into me again. I held her to me, letting her cry. She needed this, to just cry for the loss of her best friend. As she starts to hiccup, I whisper to her, “Let’s get you home, ok?” She nods and I guide her out.  

She continues to cry as I walk her to the house. Her cell phone rings and she answers, trying to calm her voice. “Ransom? Are you on your way? We stop walking as she talks to that entitled prick. But I need you… Daisy died and… no I understand… am I going to… ok, bye.” She turned to me and blushed. “His grandfather needs him,” waving the phone.Her smile came out watery. “He’ll come by later.”  

One more tear fell from her eye. I cupped her cheek and thumbed her cheek to clear the tear. “I’m here, Cowgirl.” I pull her to me and rest my chin on her head as she sobbed. I walked her to the porch steps, and I sat us down. It took a while but she finally got to sniffle. “You doing, ok?” 

“Yeah.” She looked at me with your beautiful eyes, red rimmed, puffy lips, tear-stained cheeks. “He’s not a bad guy, you know.”  

“I know.”  

“But I’m thankful I have you.” She smiles. “Will you come see me tonight?” 

“Cowgirl, that is not…” 

“Please, Johnny. I just want to talk and get out of my head. “She gave me her puppy eyes and I fucking cave.  Because I always cave.  

I’d do anything for her.  

“Sure, Cowgirl. I’ll be by around midnight.”  

“Thank you, Cowboy.”  

At midnight, I came on my bike and parked behind the barn, so I didn’t wake her parents. There’s an old tree right next to her window that I always scale. Thankfully, her parent’s room is on the other side of the house. There is a faint light in the window. The night light she’s had since five, was still on. It was the shape and color of Daisy and I knew she had it in because she was missing her friend. Once I got onto the roof, I gently tapped the window so YN knew I was there. She opened the curtain and smiled at me in the window. She opened it gently. “Hi Cowboy.”  

“Hey Cowgirl.” I sat next to the window. “How are you feeling?” 

She gave me a sad smile. “I’m ok. Ransom didn’t come by. He said he was too busy.” She sighed and looked at her lamp. “I miss her.”  

“I know you do, Cowgirl. But after a while, we’ll find you a new horse to raise because that’s what Daisy would want.”  

“You think?” 

“Well, if something happened to me, I would want you to find a new best friend because I never want you to be alone. I feel like Daisy and I are kindred spirits like that.  We both love you.”  

I didn’t realize the implication of my words. They were the truth, that’s all I know. I looked out at the moon and sighed. Every day I wished she knew that she belonged with me. That she would wake and see me and knew what she that I was the one she was looking for. But I can’t force her. I’d still be there for her no matter what.  

“You mean that, Johnny?” I turned to face her, and she was closer to me.  

A tendril of hair had escaped her messy bun and I gently pushed in behind her ear. Yeah, YN, I mean it.  

She studied me with those beautiful eyes before she leaned forward and pressed her soft lips to mine. I was stunned for half a second before I gave myself into it. I put my hand on her neck to hold her close to me and deepened it. I would have been a big fat fucking liar if I didn’t say that it was the best kiss of my life. I finally pulled back to let us breathe but kept our foreheads together. “Cowgirl…” 

“Yes, Cowboy?” 

“That was… amazing.”  

“Yeah, it was.” She pulled back smiling before her face started to fall. “Oh my… Johnny, I’m…” 

I stop her. “Don’t say your sorry. Please. I don’t regret any of that. But I understand. You have a boyfriend. I respect that. But I’m always here for you, Cowgirl.” I look at my watch. “I should go. I have to be back here in five hours.”  

She frowned but when I turned to leave, she grabbed my hand and stopped me. “Are you riding Torch tomorrow?” 

Torch was one of the wild horses we had caught.  I had been trying to tame him but he was still pretty wild.  The only people he seems to like was YN and me. But I’d be dammed if she got on him.  “Yes, but you need to stay out of the pen, Cowgirl. You can help me when he’s tied to the fence. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I gave her a kiss on the cheek and took off.  

I relived that kiss in my head the entire night and in the shower the next morning.  

I was in the yard a couple of weeks later, trying to work with Torch. “C’mon boy, work with me here,” I gritted out. The horse neighed and I looked to see YN and Ransom watching. “C’mon Torch, let’s show our girl what we can do.”  I manage to get the saddle on him and climbed on. “Ok, Torch, let’s walk.” I walked around the yard a couple of times. Then I got him into a canter.  

“Looking good, Cowboy!” I smiled over my shoulder to YN but frowned when Ransom wrapped his arm around her waist. I kept working, trying to keep the jealousy off my face. He has his hands on my girl. I unfocus for just a second and Torch bucks. I get unseated and hit the ground, knocking the wind out of me.  “Johnny!” 

I hear it far away as I try to unblur my vision and get oxygen back in me. I turn over as I see YN climb the fence, her hat being blown off and Torch is headed right for her. I suck in a breath.  

“YN! No!” I scramble and leap for the reigns. I catch them by the tips of my fingers and pull Torch away from her. I hang on as he pulls until one of the other ranch hands grabs the leather and I can let go. I lay on the ground, breathing hard, trying to get the image of YN’s face of terror out of my eyes.  

“Johnny!” She skids to a stop next to me, kneeling over. “Are you ok?” 

I shake my head as I keep trying to breathe. “YN, you can’t just jump in the ring. Cowgirl, I was terrified you were going to get hurt.”  

“I don’t care.” She cups my cheek. “I was so scared you hit your head.”  

“YN!” I hear Ransom bark at her. “You’re getting dirty and we have to meet my parents! Get off the dirt and go change!” 

I got up and dusted myself off. I helped YN off the dirty and squeezed her hand. “I’m fine YN. I’ll be bruised but ok.” I pick up her hat and dust it off. I put it back on her head. “Thank you for checking on me.”  

“Anytime Cowboy.” I open the gate for her to get her out and close it.  Ransom takes YN’s hand and pulls her to the house, yelling about how she was going to make them late. I shake my head, knowing I can’t really do anything if I want to keep my job.  

Somehow, Mrs. YLN finds out about the incident and comes out to check on me. “Johnny Storm, front and center!” I hear her call out.  I smile because Mrs. YLN is the sweetest and loves all the guys on the ranch, but she has a particular sweet stop for me. I walk up to her, and she can see the bruise on my arm, but I guess I have a cut on my face. “Johnny! Go to the house and wash your face. I’ll be right there and I have apple pie for you.”  

“Yes ma’am.” I walked over to the house and went upstairs to the guest bathroom.  It’s where she kept the first aid. As I was washing, I heard loud voices coming from down the hall. I walked slowly and saw YN and Ransom arguing through the crack of her door.  

“I don’t know why you still hang out with that horse smelling farm hand?!” Ransom yelled.  

“He is a rancher and he’s my best friends. Johnny is a good guy.”  

“He’s some poor asshole…” 

“Stop it Ransom! He is my friend and you need to respect our friendship!” 

He grabbed her by the arms and pulled her next to him. “He wants what’s mine,” he growled at her. She turned away and gripped her chin to keep her eyes on him. “You’re going to tell him to leave you alone.”  

She sticks her chin up. “And if I don’t?” 

“You will regret it.”  He shoves her back and she hits her nightstand. I watch as her night light topples and breaks.  

I storm into the room. “Hey!” I push Ransom out of the way to reach YN. “YN, are you alright?” 

I can see the tears forming in her eyes. But they weren’t on me. They were on her lamp. “Johnny…” her voice quivers. She looks at me as one solitary tear fall from her eye. I can feel the rage building in me. I turn back to Ransom.  

“You son of a bitch! You hurt her.” I shoved him and he stumbled towards the door.  

“Fuck you asshole!” He took a swing at me but I managed to dodge it and get it a hit in his gut. It drops him, gasping for air.  

I grab YN’s hand and pull her from the room.  “C’mon YN!” I race down the stairs and out the back door. I run towards my bike and get the helmets. “Put this on, Cowgirl.”  

“Johnny, you know my father will be pissed!” 

“I don’t care. I can’t leave you with that monster.”  I turn to look at her as she plays with the straps of the helmet. “Do you want to stay with him?” She shakes her head. “Do you want to be with me, Cowgirl?” She looks at me, a soft blush blooming on her cheeks. I tuck a lock of hair. “Tell me.”  

“You’re my best friend.” The statement makes my heart sink and I drop my gaze. “But I’ve always wanted a chance with you.” I snap back up and she smiles.  She leans in and kisses me. Not like the first time, where it started soft and sweet.  This one urgent, lustful. I cup the back of her head to pin her to me. I lick the seam of her lips, asking her to let me in. She let me deepen the kiss and I was in heaven.  

When I heard yells coming from the house, I broke it and turned my head. “Baby, we have to go.” I shoved my helmet on and then helped YN, jumped on the bike, helped her up and gunned it out of the yard.  

I made it out to the lake and the boathouse on the other side of the county. YN’s family think she would go to my place or my family’s but I’m not an idiot. I pull into the yard and stopped, taking my first deep breath since she kissed me. I held out my hand to help YN off the bike.  She stood, watching down the dirt road. “Are we safe here Cowboy?” 

“We should be, Cowgirl. C’mon.” I opened the big dock door to hide my bike and walked us in. It was dusty and dark, but it was a safe place. I had my lighter and was able to light a couple of candles to see where we were going.  But not soon enough as I walked into a giant cobweb. “Fuck! Shit!” I yelled as I batted away the sticky strings.  

YN giggles as she watches before she screeches and runs towards me. “Johnny!” 

“Baby, what…” 

“I think I felt a snake!” 

I tried to hold my laugh. “Baby, there are no snakes by the water.”  I finally found the light switch and the room was illuminated with a soft golden glow.  I went to where she stood before and then let out a laugh.  “Was this your great snake?” I held up an old fishing rod with a feather lure at the end.  

“Shut up Johnny, it scared me!” She crossed her arms and pouted at me.  

I came up to her and caressed her face. “My beautiful girl. I’m sorry.” I kiss her forehead. “Want to sit on the dock?”  She nodded and I took her hand. 

The sun was setting across the water. YN sat at the edge of the dock and let her legs dangle over the water. I sat right behind her and wrapped her in my arms. We were quiet for a while, listening to the crickets and cicadas harmonize in the twilight. I kissed her cheek and then down to her neck and she leaned to give me access. “Do you know how long I wanted to hold you and kiss you like this?” I whispered to her.  

“Not as long as I have.” She turned to me and smiled.  “I wish I had the courage to spend more time with you when I was 15.”  

“Sweetheart, your father forbade all of us to try and be with his daughter. I was a scared 18-year-old and not in the right place to give you what you deserved.” I kissed her nose before I kissed her properly. We went back to watching the sky turn from blue to yellow to orange to pink and then purple. “Why were you dating that guy? What did he have?” 

“I don’t know. Daddy introduced us and he took an interest.” She looks down at the water. “It was the day after I saw you in town with Sharon Carter. I thought,” she shook her head, “I thought that you really didn’t like me and then I just wanted to move on.”  

I know what day she is talking about.  It was the day Susie had set me up on a blind date. We met for a coffee in town, but Sharon told me from the beginning that she had feelings for someone else. We chatted about her horse, and she asked I could come train him. I explained this to YN. “I declined because I had just started working on Torch.” I caressed her cheek. “I didn’t want to take away my time from you.” 

She looked up at me, her beautiful eyes studying me. I could get lost in them. She turned and straddled my lap, her sundress riding up. Fuck, why had she already changed before her confrontation with Ransom. Did that dick get to see her naked? I shook the thoughts from my mind as I gripped her hips as she settled into my lap, making sure that she doesn’t tip back into the lake. Her arms are looped around my neck. She doesn’t say anything, not a single word or noise.  She just keeps those eyes on me, staring at me like a painting. Finally, she leans down and kisses me. I follow her lead, just like I would follow her anywhere if she asked me. Her fingers tangle into my hair as my hands splayed across her back and neck.  

I can feel her warmth right over my cock. I can feel myself growing harder under her as she begins to move over me. She’s grinding that pussy into me and I know I will lose it if I don’t stop it.  I try to still her but she keeps moving.  She lets go of my mouth to start kissing my neck and working the buttons of my shirt. “Baby, baby, stop,” I finally say. She pulls back, a look of hurt crossing her face. “No, baby, I just don’t want to do this here. I don’t want anyone to see you in pleasure besides me.” I grip under her ass as I move to lift her in my arms and carry her to the bedroom in the boathouse.  

You would think the room would be dusty and dirty, but it wasn’t.  I had been hiding out here on and off for the last few years. My father wasn’t a good man and I didn’t stick around when he started drinking.  My mom had left a few years before and Suzy lived with Reed so I was on my own. But I made the best of it. The bed had a clean quilt and everything was dusted and swept.  I even cleaned the bathroom.  

I laid my girl on the bed, slotting my hips in between her legs. I kissed her hard, fuck, I wanted her so bad. But I didn’t want her to think that this was all I wanted.  I slowed our kisses. “Johnny?” 

“I don’t want you to think that I just want this, Cowgirl. I’m in love with your fire, your spirit, your compassion, well, just you. Everything you.” I swallowed. “If you don’t want to do this, I understand, and we’ll wait.” I looked away for just a second before she used a finger to push me back into her eyesight.  

“Johnny Storm, I have been waiting for you for three years.”  

My eyes widen. “Are you...” She nods and looks away. I pull her gaze back. “Baby, are you sure?” 

“You belong to me Johnny, just like I belong to you.”  

I swallow. “We’ll go slow, ok? If I hurt you, just let me know and we’ll stop.” She nods and kisses me. I pull back. “I need your words, YN.”  

“I trust you Johnny.”  

I got up to my knees, still in between her legs and I started to unbutton my shirt. She watched me with big eyes, still unsure but never letting go. When I pulled it off, a soft gasp came from her mouth. That made me smirk. I pulled her up to me, sitting her. I tugged at the bottom of her pretty little sundress and pulled it over her head. I groaned at the site of her in just pink lace. I guided her back down to the bed and started to kiss every inch of skin I could find.  

YN sighed. I slid the pink strap of her bra down her shoulders and arms, kissing her skin as I went. I kissed the tops of her breasts and then pulled a cup down to take the peaked nipple in my mouth.  I nibbled and sucked as YN arched her back at the sensation.  “Johnny,” she moaned. Fuck, listening to my name come from her lips almost sent me over the edge. I moved to the other one while a pinched and twisted the first. I released her and then unclipped the offending fabric.  

I kept moving down, skimming her skin with my fingertips and my lips as she squirmed underneath me. I got to her lace pants and kissed her covered mound, inhaling her scent. “Dammit baby, you smell like heaven. Can I taste you?” 

She was silent and I lifted my head to see tears. “Baby?” 

“I’m scared. What if you don’t like me?” The sound of her uncertainty, her fear, broke my heart.  

“Oh, sweetheart.” I went back to hover over her. “I know that you will be the best taste I’ve ever had. The best partner I could ever ask for.” I let my hands wander as caress over the hem of her panties. “I promise, I’ll make you feel good.”  

She peered up at me and smiled. “Ok.”  

Such a simple little word can bring the heat in my veins. I kiss her softly again as I slide my hand into her panties.  I swallow her cry as tease her slit. “So wet, Cowgirl. For me?” 

She nods. “Is that a good thing?” 

“That’s an amazing thing.” I dip into her tight hole. “Oh fuck, you’re so tight.” She rolls her hips in time to the thrust of my hand, seeking my touch. “You like that YN?”  She nods again as she lets go of another low moan. My cock is straining behind my Wranglers, desperate to get out and play with the woman underneath me.  I stroke one more time and then bring my finger to my mouth.  She jaw drops at suck her cream from my finger.  “I knew you would taste good.” 

I don’t give her the chance this time.  I pull down her panties off her legs and stuff them in my pocket. “Johnny...” she started but soon she moaned as I licked my way up her slit. I kissed, sucked and teased her clit, finger fucked her until she was withering under me. “Give it to me Cowgirl. Let go.” 

“I can’t,” she cried, “Johnny, I...” 

“Its ok, let go for me, my love.”  

She cried as her orgasm took over, her body shook and her pussy strangled my fingers. I kept it gentle, knowing that this was the first one but certainly not the last. I could she her coming down so I gently pulled my fingers away. I licked my finger clean and then undid my jeans. “Are you ready for me Cowgirl?” I pulled my jeans and boxers off and fished a condom from my wallet.  

Her eyes were big. “Cowboy, that is not going to fit.”  

I gave her a sexy smirk. “We’ll make it fit.” I rolled it on and then slowly climbed back on top of her. I slotted my hips between her legs and kissed her hard and deep.  My cock seeks out the warmth of her pussy and notched at her entrance. “Ready?” 

“Yes. Please be gentle,” she whispered.  

“Always, Cowgirl.” I pushed in softly, groaning at how hot and tight she is. “Oh fuck, baby.” Her nails dug into my back but I didn’t focus on the pain. I pushed until I felt resistance. “I’m sorry baby but this will hurt. I promise it’ll feel good after.” I thrusted hard and she screamed. I held her too me as she thrashed her head, sobbing.  “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry love.”  

“Johnny!” She cried. It took a few minutes, but she calmed, and I move slightly. She moaned at the feel of my cock in her. “I feel so full,” she moaned.  

“That’s good, love. I’m going to move, ok?” She nodded and I withdrew gently, seeing her wince. “Do you want me to stop?” 

“No, no, I just,” she swallowed. “It's so much.”  

“I know. Just let your body feel.”  I withdrew until the head of my cock was the only piece in her and thrusted back in gently. Her head tossed back with a moan. I did that a few more time until I heard her say, “more.” I sped up my movements, pulling her leg over my hip to open her up a bit more.  

“Oh fuck, Cowboy, right there. Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.” She buried her head in my neck as I pumped into her.  

“I won’t stop until you give me another Cowgirl.” I moved my hand and used my finger to circle her clit.  She cried out more and I circled a little faster. I started to feel the sensation in my spine and I knew I was close.  “Fuck, tell me you’re close, Cowgirl.” 

“So close,” she moaned. I moved faster. My hips slamming into her, my finger pressing her little button of pleasure faster and harder. Her cry changed and I started to recognize it.  

“Come for me,” I ordered. That’s all it took as she detonated around me, squeezing me, milking me, triggering my own release into her. I slowed, both breathing hard. “Are you ok?” I was scared I hurt her with how hard I had been fucking her.  

“I’m great,” she said with a smile. “I get it now, what all my romance books talked about. It does feel like the best ride.”  

I laughed with her. I pulled out gently, knowing it would hurt. She winced but cupped my cheek to let me know she was ok.  There was a little blood on the condom and blanket but I didn’t make her feel bad. I got another blanket to cover her while I took the other one away. I threw away the condom and took a washcloth to her. She jumped when I touched her, but I knew it was just because of how sensitive she had become. I climbed back into bed with her and hauled her into my arms. She rested her head on my chest. “Johnny?” 

“Yeah?” 

“I love you.”  

“I love you, Cowgirl. Get some rest.” I kissed her head and smoothed down her hair. I fell asleep to her rhythmic breaths against me.  

I was sleeping with an angel in heaven.  

Muted sunlight filters in as I lay on my back, stroking my girl’s hair as she sleeps in the early morning. I think about the last three years, pining after the girl in my arms.  She wasn’t ready for me then. But now that I have her, I’ll never let her go.  

She starts to stir and wake. She stretches a little before looking up at me. “Hi.”  

“Hi Cowgirl. How are you feeling?” 

She smiles softly. “A little sore. But happy.” I lean to kiss her. Her eyes flutter as they open again.  “Good morning, Cowboy.”  

“This is the best way to start the day, my beautiful Cowgirl.”  I kiss her again when I hear a beep from somewhere. I reach down for my jeans and fish my phone from the pocket. There was a text message from her father 

Mr. YLN: Please bring my daughter home. 

I sighed and looked at my girl. “It’s time sweetheart.”  

She frowned but nodded. As we dressed, I gave YN a pair of my boxer briefs to wear since I tore her panties. It gave me a boost knowing she was wearing my underwear under her dress.  I cleaned up, feeling like I would be back living here soon since I would probably lose my job. But I had a feeling, I would still have YN.  

The ride back was quiet. I didn’t know what we would be walking into. Would her father try and kill me because I took his daughter and took her innocence? Would he press charges? I knew I would be facing something I just didn’t know what.  

We pulled into the driveway and went right up to the house. I helped YN off and took her helmet. “You know I love you right?”  

She nodded but her face was nervous. “I know. I love you too. We do this together?” I took her hand.  

“Together.”  

We walked up the steps to her house. I knocked and the door immediately opened. Her mother answered. “YN. Johnny.” She looked down at our joined hands and smiled. She waved us into the living room where Mr. YLN and Random were waiting for us.  

“Mr. YLN. Mr. Drysdale.” I hated that I had to greet that fucker. I remembered yesterday and how he had pushed my girl. I remember seeing the bruise on her side. I had kissed the pain away when I worshipped her body but I would never forgive him for marking her.  

“Johnny, YN, I’m happy you came back.” He looked at our hands and then back at his daughter. “What were you thinking YN? You ran away from our home with our ranch hand without explanation. Your mother and I have been worried sick. If I hadn’t checked the cameras…” 

YN gripped my hand tighter and then interrupted her father. “I ran away because I didn’t feel safe in my own home.”  

The look of disbelief crossed her father's face. “What? What is that supposed to mean?” 

“You didn’t look in her room, did you?” I asked.  

“No. Ransom was in the living room and said you ran away with the farm boy after you had assaulted him.”  

I scoffed. “That’s rich. We’re not on a farm jackass,” I directed to Ransom. “We are a ranch. But that’s beside the point. The reason for the assault was because I was protecting YN from him. He was yelling at her, making her cry and then he shoved her into her nightstand and broke her horse lamp.”  

My words had the power to stop time. Ransom’s face turned red from rage as her father's face blanched. I could see what he was thinking. The man she introduced to his daughter was a monster.  

“You have no proof, farm boy!”  

“I’ve seen the bruises you asshole. I held her as she cried for the last reminder of her best friend that she had because you broke it.” 

Action was swift. Mr. YLN grabbed Ransom around the collar. “You put your hands on my daughter?!” Ransom gapped like a fish. “You thought you could lie to me. I know your grandfather and believe you me that he will hear about this. Get out of my house and off my property you worthless piece of shit.” Mr. YLN cocked his arm back and punched Ransom square in the jaw. He fell in a pile to the floor and grabbed his face.  

I helped him up and threw him out the door. “You fucked with the wrong girl Drysdale.”  

“She was mine!” He yelled back. “I will end you!”  

“Guess what? She was never yours. She was always mine. She belongs to me, and I belong to her. And you can just fuck off.”  

I went back inside and faced her father. “She’s yours?” 

“Sir, I have been in love with your daughter since the day I met her. I just wanted to wait until she knew that I was hers. I love her, sir, with everything I have.”  

There is nothing like riding a horse. The freedom, the raw power, there is nothing like it. Especially when you girl is holding onto you as you ride the horse you trained together.  

It was nearing dusk, the sky changing to it’s beautiful pinks and reds and purples. I had ridden out to the lake on the opposite side of the boathouse. When I got to the water’s edge I stopped and helped YN down before I got down. It had been six months since the confrontation with Ransom. And they had been the happiest six months of my life. We walked along the edge, listening to the sounds of the coming eve, Torch neighing. I was nervous.  

“Baby, why are you trembling?” My Cowgirl stopped me and had a look of concern in her eyes.  

“Sorry, I just…” I cleared my throat. “I just have something to ask you. Do you love me?” 

“More every day.”  

“Do I make you happy?” 

“I’m the happiest girl in the world.”  

“Ok good. Because I’ve never been so happy YN and that’s all because of you. And I never want to let go of that happiness. So…” I pulled the box from my pocket and knelt to one knee. “My Cowgirl, will you marry me?” 

I opened the box to show off a modest pear-shaped diamond on a gold band. It had been all I could afford but her father said I could upgrade later since I’d be the ranch manager soon.  

“Johnny,” she gasped. “Yes, she whispered, Cowboy, yes!” 

I put that ring on her finger and lifted her into my arms.  

After all this time, she saw that I was the one who understood her, who got her, who loved her.  

She belonged to me.  

I belonged to her.  

Forever.  

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coming soon

[boxofbonesfic]

Title: 𝙳𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚕𝚐ä𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛 [7]

Pairing: Dark!Ransom x Reader, Lloyd Hansen x Reader

Summary: Your husband’s twin brother has always made you uncomfortable, and after two years of marriage, you finally find out why. 

Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Possessive Behavior, Stalking, Kidnapping, Basement-wife, Gaslighting, Manipulation, Breeding kink, Smut, Darkfic, Dead Dove: Do not eat!

Word Count: 5,123

A/N: thank you all for your patience, and your excitement! we’re checking back in with reader this chapter, and unfortunately, she’s not doing too well. 😅 bottom divider by @firefly-graphics

On the eighteenth day, it rains. 

At least, you think it is the eighteenth day. 

 The rising and setting of the sun only denotes the time of day—there is no clock in this room, no way to mark the longer passage of hours, no calendar with boxes for you to tick off. So you cling to the approximation, it’s the only knowledge—incorrect or no—that you have. 

Water streams down the walls of your prison, obscuring the beach beyond. You stare listlessly at the droplets, following them with your eyes as they slide down the glass into the sand. Though you haven’t moved in hours, you’re still strangely exhausted. So you stay there, tucked against the wall where the glass meets concrete. You’d told Ransom and Lloyd to leave you alone and they had followed your request to the letter—you haven’t seen them since your destructive fit.

You’ve already cried yourself dry and hoarse wailing for help, for release, for your family, and though your distress at your current situation hasn’t lessened per-say, you feel a certain sort of numb acceptance. You’ve gone to sleep here and woken up in the ruined bed enough times to know now that this is true, that it is real—

That you have to accept it. 

What choice do you have? Raging had changed nothing, only isolating you further. You’ve taken to analyzing every moment in the silence, sifting back through to try and determine the point where it all went wrong. There’s no aha moment, though, no core memory that lights the path to recognition. You remember Lloyd and Ransom in your history classes, hotshot poli-sci majors destined for the big leagues. You knew of them, of course—everyone did. Legacy students with chips on their shoulders and grandaddy’s money in their bank accounts. 

Typical. 

You almost wish you could go back and tell yourself that you had been right, that your assessment that the Drysdale twins were selfish and self-centered—but it doesn’t matter now. Not with their baby in your belly and the minutes of your life rotting away in this box. 

You know what they’re waiting for, waiting for you to admit you want to see them, that you need them, and they’ll come and make everything better. You hate that you want to, if only just to have someone to scream at. You hug your knees. Your family will be home now, back to their lives in the States, having swallowed whatever lies you know the twins must have spun up for them—they certainly couldn’t tell the truth. 

She’s sick. Not feeling well. You see, we’ve been taking turns fucking her like our personal cocksleeve.

That would have gone over splendidly with your father. 

The hours tick slowly by until you realize you’re rocking, back and forth as you stare at blank space. Your resolve to say nothing, to ask for nothing, feels made now of rubber rather than stone. It’s been two weeks and then some since you’d spoken to anyone or had contact with your captors—your husband. 

Ransom had taken the ring when you’d thrown it at him, and you’re still not used to the feeling of not wearing it after two whole years. You run the fingers of your opposite hand over the blank space on your ring finger, over and over again, feeling the little divet where it sat.

The room is four hundred and seventy six steps around, you know because you have paced the width and breadth of it every single day since Ransom and Lloyd had left you here. You could do it with your eyes closed, even—you often do. Today isn’t any different, pacing the wall as you recite something—anything you can think of, usually—as many times as you can. Snippets of books you’ve read, scenes in movies, you replay them all, savoring each instance of remembrance as you feel the silence pressing in around the sound of your voice. That’s the worst part about all of this, you think to yourself as you round the far side of the room for lap number twenty five. They’re not even here for you to scream at them. 

They don’t even have to face your wrath, meager as it is. You’re not sure exactly when you’d begun to crave the sound of their voices, perhaps because you know they’re the only ones you have any hope of hearing. You want to cry and scream and wail at them, you want to tear at their faces with your jagged nails—but most of all, you just want them here while you do it. 

The quick pace you set around the room lasts until you can’t keep it up anymore. You collapse next to the door, resting a hand on your belly as your chest heaves. The sight that greets you as you stare listlessly out the window is a familiar one, the orange-red sun is pale behind the lingering cloud cover as it sinks beneath the dark, choppy waves. You have seen this eighteen times—and tomorrow, it will be nineteen. 

Perhaps it’s the realization you cannot even hear the sound of the water lapping against the sand, you can’t feel the breeze, feel the sun on your skin unfiltered through the eight inch glass. 

You can’t even go for a fucking walk.

It’s the knowledge of the agencies you’ve been denied, the freedoms you’ve been stripped of that drives you back to your feet as a frantic intensity grips you. You slam your fists against the door with a hoarse cry, beating against it until your hands ache and sting. 

“Please!” Your dry eyes ache for want of tears. “I don’t want to be in here by myself anymore!” You know you’re giving up ground, but you can’t help it. Weeks of complete isolation—of fucking nothing. You try to convince yourself it isn’t a loss, though, that you’re giving in for your own good, not theirs. That you’ll never have an avenue for escape if the door is locked, so you must make them open it. You repeat these reasons and more on a seemingly endless internal refrain as you beg and cry—so much so that you almost believe it when you hear the sound of hinges turning, of dress shoes on bare concrete. 

You stumble back from the door, anxiously waiting for the robotic sound of the pin pad on the other side. After six beeps—six, you’re sure of it, and you will remember; six—you hear the locks disengaging, the hiss of the hydraulic hinges. You almost don’t want to look as the door swings open, dragging your reluctant gaze up from the concrete step to stare at the twin in front of you. You hate that you’re glad to see him—you’re glad to see anyone, but your feeble  hope that it is your husband who will greet you on the other side of the doorway turns brittle in your chest as you drag your gaze up to his face. 

“Hello, Princess.” You swallow thickly at the sight of Lloyd. He’s letting his mustache grow back in now, the light dusting of hair above his lip, the thick chain at his throat, and the slick striped polo are all enough of a giveaway. He grins at you. Besides, you think venomously. What reason does he have to hide, now? Lloyd steps inside, and the door closes behind him with a soft rush of air. He clucks his tongue as he looks at the carnage around you, the destruction you’re no longer proud of—just exhausted with. 

“You really have made a mess of things.” It feels like he’s talking about more than the room. His expression is almost affectionate. Your chest tightens.“Let’s see what we can do to fix them.” Lloyd steps closer, and you mirror him with one step back, your body moving without your permission. “Baby, you asked for me to come,” he says, cocking his head. “Or would you like to be alone again?” Lloyd doesn’t say it like a threat, doesn’t weight the words with the implication you know he means. 

And yet the idea of being alone in this room—hell, alone in your head—for a single moment more feels like hands wrapping around your throat. The feeling spurs you to speak, swallowing the thick resentment lining your throat to make room for words. 

“No.” You say, looking down at your feet. “I—I don’t.” 

He smiles. “Good. I don’t either.” Lloyd takes an experimental step forward, and you stiffen—but remain still. The smile widens. “Why don’t you take a bath, Princess, and I’ll get someone to come in here and clean up a little? How’s that?” 

“Who?” You know this is bait and you take it anyway. Your options are either to engage with Lloyd—on his terms, always his fucking terms—or to have no engagement at all. “A-are there other people here?” The question lies unasked in the air between you. Will they help me? 

“Maybe if we get you cleaned up, and at least get a new mattress in here and some food in you, maybe I’ll tell you.” He’s not bothering to hide his enjoyment, and it turns your stomach. 

“I hate you.” It slips out before you can stop it, but instead of getting angry, Lloyd just laughs. 

“Oh Princess. I think that’s the best part about all of this,” he runs a hand through his hair before he steps closer. He reaches for you, and you flinch, but force yourself to remain still as he cups your chin. “You really, really don’t.” You’re not expecting him to kiss you, then, to slant his mouth across yours hungrily. You’re too shocked to fight it, standing there shocked as his worry at your lip and he sucks at your tongue until you’re panting, nipples pressing furiously through your nightgown—and then all at once it’s over. Lloyd drags his thumb across your lip. 

“Bathroom.” He points. “I’ll join you in a moment.” Lloyd straightens back up, watching you jerk back from him with a pleased smirk. “Oh, and Princess?” He waits until you turn to glare at him over your shoulder. “No peeking.” 

You practically flee from him, slamming the door behind you. You press yourself against it, your heart pounding. Pressing a hand to your tingling lips, you fumble at the handle with the other before your brows crease with confusion. To your dismay, there is no lock, only a handle. You’d thought yourself completely dry of tears, but to your surprise, more come, welling up as you slap a hand to your mouth so Lloyd doesn’t hear you sob. 

For some reason, you’d imagined your body would reject them, go stone cold at their touch now with how deeply your hatred seemed to burn—but as you reach between your legs with trembling fingers to check what you already know is true, you can’t help but hate yourself just as much. 

You’re not supposed to like it. 

The bathroom has been relatively untouched by your rage, nothing broken or out of place really beyond a few towels. Your cotton nightgown joins them on the floor as you turn on the tub’s faucet, and it drowns out the sound of moving furniture through the door. There’s an assortment of bath products lined up on the side, all ones you like. You resist the urge to knock them over or pour them all down the drain.

How long had they prepared this place for you? How long had it taken them to plot out each excruciating detail?

How long had they known they were going to?

The door handle clicks and jiggles, and you scramble for a towel as Lloyd enters. You know it’s ridiculous, your fear of being nude before him—he’s seen you naked dozens of times by now, he’d fucked you—but the muscle memory of it remains. He closes it behind him, glancing past you to the tub. 

“Oh, lovely.” He steps around you, his hands lingering familiarly on your waist before he reaches for the bottles. Lloyd grabs a few of them, glancing at the labels before making a noise low in his throat. “Ah, this one. You like Jasmine, don’t you Princess?” 

“How do you know that?” You glare at him accusatorially as he pours a hefty capful into the water. It begins to foam up almost immediately, the scent of jasmine and roses filling the air. Lloyd removes his rings and watch before dipping his hand into the water, mixing it. You glare hatefully at his back. “Did Ransom tell you?”

“Now why would Ransom have to tell me that?” He glances over his shoulder at you. 

“Be-because you don’t know me at all!” You stammer. “That’s why this is all so fucking insane!” It bubbles out of you before you can stop it, frustrated, enraged tears brimming in your eyes. “You don’t know the first fucking thing about me!”

“Is that what you tell yourself, Princess?” He asks, turning to face you. You’re suddenly very aware of how few options you have for space, the way Lloyd has placed himself between you and the door, using your own fear to herd you over to the far side of the bathroom, away from him—and from your escape. 

“That I don’t know a goddamn thing about you? That I’ve got no reason to feel about you the way I do?” He chuckles, shaking his head. “You know, people have a funny way of remembering the things they want to remember—come here, Princess, this is supposed to be relaxing,” he cuts himself off, beckoning you with one hand. “I’ve had plenty of time to consider my feelings. Trust me.” 

 You wait for Lloyd to show signs of impatience, for his lips to crease into thin, angry lines, for his eyes to go cold and hard—but it doesn’t happen. Slowly, you approach, your fist clenched so tight around the towel that your fingers ache. He licks his lips. 

“Can’t have a relaxing bath with that on.” He flicks at the hem of your towel with his fingers. “I promise, Princess, I’ll keep my hands to myself.”

He’s seen it before. He’s seen it before. Somehow, you still feel like a married woman showing yourself to a stranger when you release your white knuckled grip on the terrycloth, and it falls to the ground between you. You don’t want to see Lloyd’s face so you look at the large bathtub instead, watch the waterline slowly rise as as the seconds tick by. 

“Let me help you in.” Lloyd’s hand is warm on the small of your back as he gingerly assists you into the bath. You don’t want to enjoy it, the way you don’t want to enjoy anything he does for you. The tension, the fear—it’s all living in your muscles and in your marrow, and though you don’t want it to, the hot water feels good, damn him. The sound of Lloyd’s belt buckle reactivates your adrenaline, and water sloshes up over the sides of the tub as you sit up, scrambling back. 

Fresh fear rises in you as you watch him unclasp the gold chain from around his neck, placing it down next to his rings with a soft metallic click.

“Easy, Princess. Easy.” He steps in, arranging himself behind you as you practically curl into yourself to escape him. “I promised.” He doesn’t bother trying to hide his cock, swelling eagerly against his thigh. 

“Excuse me if I find those fucking meaningless,” you spit, flinching as Lloyd cups water over your shoulders. He settles himself in behind you, and you abhor the way your body seems to fit against his, like two puzzle pieces fitting together. You hate the way his half-hard cock sits perfectly against you, throbbing whenever you fidget. You’re shocked to find that there is part of you that enjoys it regardless, the closeness, the affection. After so long feeling only your own fingers on your skin, it feels strange and compelling to be so close to someone else. It’s electric to feel Lloyd against you, feels nearly as fitting and right as it had with Ransom—though you assure yourself that is only because they’re practically physically identical. 

Was it ever right with Ransom, though? You’re starting to feel like you’d never even known your husband at all. You knew bits, pieces of the whole, but now you’re seeing him as he is… maybe as he’s always been. Or was that just what he wanted me to feel? What they both wanted me to feel?

“Oh you wound me, Sweetheart,” he sighs, reaching for the soap and neatly folded washcloth on the side. “At least your parents think a little more highly of me.” You turn your head so fast your neck aches. 

“My parents? You’ve talked to my parents?”Lloyd says nothing, the corners of his mouth lifted into a small, knowing smile.  “Where do they think I am?” Lloyd says nothing, and merely begins to wash your back with the soapy cloth, his strokes firm, but gentle. The silence lengthens between you, broken only by the sound of water and breath. It ticks on until you feel the frenzied anxiety beneath your skin erupt out of your mouth. 

 “Answer me!”

“Princess, I think a much more interesting question is where you think you are.” He swipes it between your shoulder blades, brushing your curls out of the way to get at the back of your neck. When his lips brush the hell of your ear, it’s all you can do not to flinch. “Where do you think you are?” 

You’re tempted to answer snarkily, or better yet, to turn around and try your hand at hitting him as hard as you can—but something inside tells you that that will end worse than it had with Ransom. Instead, you force yourself to actually think. The days are long, tropical, hot. You can’t feel that heat, of course, not from inside your room, but the sand, the sea, the trees…

“You never moved me. We’re still on Mykonos.” 

Lloyd’s brows rise, but he smiles. “You’re so fucking smart, Princess. Anybody ever tell you that?” The praise feels wrong, sliding down your skin like oil. You don’t want to accept it—and because you cannot accept it, you attempt to ruin it. 

“Not smart enough to see you coming.” You retort, but the venom either doesn’t phase Lloyd, or he’s just that good at disguising his own offense, but he just continues to clean you up like it doesn’t bother him one bit. He’d been eager to get the trip started—more eager than anyone else. He’d been in a rush, you realize now, to get you here. To get to the good part, the part where he got to have you alone and defenseless. And worse, he got to have you with permission. Perhaps that’s why he’s so patient. He can afford to be, after all. 

“I loved you the minute we met. You know that?” He’s busy working shampoo through your hair, raking it through the tangled mess until it falls neatly, laden down by product. “You never thought I was serious back then.” Lloyd chuckles in that way that reminds you of Ransom. “Maybe I wasn’t. But I am now—we are. About making a life for you, for us.” His hand travels around to cup the barely-there swell of your belly. “For our family.” 

“Stop it!” You hiss, your teeth gritted. You don’t want to hear this. You don’t want to hear him spout words of devotion to you because they feel too good to hear—it feels good to hear anything at all after nearly two a half weeks of only your own sobs for company—

“Stop what?” You throw his hand off of you as you whirl to face him, water splashing out loudly onto the tile.

“Stop pretending like you’re doing this for me instead of to me.” You snarl. “You—”

“Are supporting your family.” He reminds you. “Nathalie gets to finish college debt free. Your father gets first pick of every single construction job in the city.”

“And I get to be a prisoner.” As Lloyd rinses the shampoo from your hair, you cannot help but wonder which was worse—the unknowing way you’d allowed the both of them to violate you, or sitting here in the aftermath, knowing you’d never had a chance anyway.

“Where’s Ransom?” 

“Sick of me already, Princess?” Lloyd asks, and you clench your teeth to keep from answering. “He’s a little busy at the moment. But I’m not gonna lie, I’m not disappointed he couldn’t make it,” Lloyd spreads the butter onto his baked potato with relish before his blue eyes flick up to yours. “I like having you all to myself, sometimes.” He hadn’t touched you in the bath, true to his word—but you can see the desire plainly on his face now, and it makes you squirm uncomfortably. 

“You’ve never had me all to yourself, Lloyd.” You remind him. “I—I married Ransom.”

His smile doesn’t disappear, doesn’t even lessen. If anything, it gets bigger. “Haven’t I?” He chews thoughtfully. Ransom had told you the-the sharing had begun a year ago, but… but what if that wasn’t the first time? 

What if that was only when they’d made a habit of it?

Your stomach lurches, and you swallow bile, suddenly less hungry than before. You don’t know if you want an answer to this question. Instead, you circle back. 

“You said if I let you do what you wanted, you’d tell me if there were other people here.” Lloyd’s eyes flick up to meet yours.

“Is that what I said?” He hums. “No good hotel runs without staff, Princess.” You scoff at his answer. “Of course there are a few dedicated employees.”

“And my parents?” 

“I believe I promised you one answer for good behavior, Princess.” Lloyd practically purrs the pet name at you. “Not two.” You’re tempted to argue—you want to, but you understand a warning when one is given. The way you skirt the edge of his patience makes you angry with yourself, but when you think again of the two and a half weeks of silence, the long days spent rambling to yourself so that you would hear something, anything—you cannot experience that again. So you sit prettily as he fusses over your hair and your skin, swallowing your self loathing. 

He helps you dry off with the fluffy, comfortable towels you’ve been refusing to use, taking great care to rub cocoa butter into the supple skin of your belly. And when you emerge back into the bedroom, only evidence of the most heinous of your acts of defiance remain: the cracked mirror above the dresser, many of the draws missing—you had smashed them to bits against the unyielding windows. Everything that wasn’t too heavy to lift had been subject to your rage, even the mattress. But now, it’s almost like it had never even happened. 

The bed is freshly made, floor swept clean of debris. And on the new table—made of dark, heavy wood—there is dinner. And it’s real fucking food this time, not just a bland chicken salad sandwich cobbled together on dry bread. Roast chicken, carrots and potatoes are steaming on the plates, a bowl of salad between them. Your stomach twists at the sight of it. Shrugging quickly into one of the many pairs of plain white tank-tops and shorts sitting on top of the dresser, and make a beeline for the food. 

Lloyd emerges from the bathroom moments later, his polo shirt laid over one arm, his briefs slung low on his damp hips. 

“Oh good, dinner.” 

You sit awkwardly across from him, attempting to split your attention between eating your food and watching Lloyd. 

“How long do you plan to keep me here?” 

“I’d be careful with the questions, Princess.” He says, fixing you with a warning look as he chews. “Some questions have answers you’re not gonna like.” Somehow, that tells you everything anyway, and you feel yourself shiver, but not with cold. His eyes are hard when you meet them. 

“That long, huh?” You ask, turning to stare at the dark, troubled sea through your window. It feels like you’re in a movie—a fucking horror movie. Lloyd sighs.

“Think of it like a vacation. No work, no responsibilities—”

“Lloyd, please.” You can’t look at him. The rage, the terror—they’re all boiling over inside of you, and if you look at him, if you see his fucking face, you know you’ll lose it. And if you do, you have a feeling that you won’t recognize yourself if you’re left alone for another two weeks. So instead, you stare out at the water, chewing up the words you want to say and swallowing them back down.

“This isn’t a villa, it’s a prison. I can’t—” you choke back bitter tears. “You won’t even let me outside.” 

“You’re getting yourself all worked up, and you’re not going to be able to keep down your dinner.” He places a hand over yours, and the shock of his touch makes you jump, reeling back. “When we can trust you, Princess, then we’ll talk about day trips.” Hope lights a tiny candle in your chest. 

“We will?” 

“We will.” He points at your food with his fork. “Now eat up.” You do, forcing yourself to eat every bite on your plate. When Lloyd bids you goodnight, he tucks a finger beneath your chin, tilting your head up until you’re forced to look at him. 

“Goodnight, Princess.” He kisses you again, disgustingly softly. 

—

You sleep fitfully after Lloyd leaves. Turning back and forth, kicking the cotton sheets off until they lay in a heap at the bottom of the bed. Sweat sticks your tank-top to your clammy skin, and as you wake for the nth time that night, the memory of what scant dreams you’re able to achieve brings heat to your cheeks.  

Hands on your skin—two sets of them—prying open your lips to rest on your tongue, sliding between your legs—

You wake in your new bed feeling testy and anxious, glowering at the sunlight glinting sharply off the water. Clean clothes lay folded on the dresser, a pitcher of water and cups now sat on a rolling tray by the table. It isn’t lost on you that as soon as you’d begged for them the quality of your care had vastly improved. You’re reluctant to admit that it’s a relief, not sleeping on the mattress you yourself had destroyed, avoiding the splinters of broken wood on the floor. 

But now there are none. 

The tile floor is swept clean, the new mattress bearing fresh sheets, the new furniture polished to gleaming. 

This is what you can have if you forgive us, the neatly folded clothes in the new dresser-drawers seem to say before you close them again with a sharp snap. This is what you can have if you give us forever. 

All you have to give is forever.

The room seems somehow larger now, since Lloyd’s visit, emptier—lonelier. You resolve not to ask them for anything again, ignoring the desperate, terrified  part of you that dreads a return to the silent nothing. They’re smart—there’s not even a book in here for you to entertain yourself with. Through them, that good things flow, you know that’s what they’re trying to teach you. The part that sickens you most is that it’s true—and has been for a long time. You cannot remember the last time you’d had to pay a bill or concern yourself with the cost of living. You don’t even know what Ransom pays in rent for the apartment—you don’t know that you ever even did. 

You get out of bed, pulling the sheets back up over the spot you’d vacated as you take stock. 

Normally, your chicken-salad sandwich would be on a clean plastic tray in front of the door, but today there is nothing. You are not a creature of habit by nature, shakeups in your routine typically do nothing more than irritate you. But for some reason, this makes you antsy, anxious. 

Had you upset Lloyd last night with your questions?

Why do you even care? 

As you contemplate what you’ve given away without knowing it, you hear the sound of the outer door opening. You don’t know what it looks like outside of your room, not really, but you’ve caught snatches of the concrete hallway and stairs just beyond the doorway. The sound of the pinpad echoes in the quiet room before the door opens. 

Ransom steps over the threshold, a tray held steady in his arms. 

“Good morning, Sweetheart.” Your eyes fill with tears as you stare at him, your lip trembling as you try to bite back on the overwhelming emotion that fills you at the sight of your husband. “I missed you so much.” 

to be continued…

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