#professor!ransom | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hansensgirl · 9 months

Text

❆ 𝑭.𝑯: 𝑫𝑨𝑹𝑲 𝑪𝑶𝑵𝑪𝑬𝑷𝑻𝑺 (𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑)

psstt! — minors, do not interact! 18+ only, just like my blog. do not plagiarize, copy, translate, repost, copy or recreate my writing on any other public platforms. heed the warnings, and remember you are responsible for your media consumption.

info. — in honour of the holiday season, mr. hansen has decided to open requests! how kind is he? they will be posted in the next week or so, and will be written by me (sab). if you ask nicely, the man himself will even make an appearance!

format. — the requests will be submitted to this form. you will select one character, one AU (if desired), one dialogue prompt, and one kink/key element. all concepts will be dark, no matter what. there is an option for you to leave your username so i can tag you when i post your request. you may always remain anonymous. all prompts were created by me, please don’t use them without my permission.

time. — concepts will be written and posted as fast as possible. by january 7th, 2024, they should all be completed. please bear with me, as i can be quite a slow writer. thank you for your patience.

note. — concepts that are bolded and have three asterisks (***) will be turned into full fics. the list can be found under the ‘read more’ cut, along with all the drabbles i’ve posted.

the form is now closed. thank you for all the submissions! requests will be posted in the next two weeks.

show mr. hansen your gratitude by sending a request! isn't he such a sweet man?

NAVIGATION. ❆ @hansensfics. ❆ NEON PALM.

Andy Barber + Yandere + “Think an old man like me can keep up?” + conditioning/grooming.

Andy Barber + Roommate/Tenant + “Isn’t it beautiful? Bullet proof, too.” + dumbification.

Andy Barber + Bookstore + “Come out, come out, wherever you are!” + kidnapping.

Natasha Romanoff + Neighbours + “I’ll always love you, even if you don’t feel that way. But you will.” + sex pollen.

Johnny Storm + Sugar Daddy + “The night’s still young.” + obsession.

Jake Jensen + Step-brother + “C’mere. I can’t see you from all the way over there.” + thigh riding.

Steve Rogers + Stepfather + “Don’t you think you’re a little too old to be playing this game?” + face-sitting.

Natasha Romanoff + Mob boss + “I think I like you better when you’re gagged and crying on my dick.” + humiliation.

Steve Rogers + Boyfriend’s dad + “You’re so cute when you’re struggling like that.” + cum-play.

Lloyd Hansen + Yandere + “I’ll always love you, even if you don’t feel that way. But you will.” + sir kink.

Ari Levinson + Dad’s best friend + “I dreamt of you last night. Every night.” + daddy kink.

Andy Barber + Professor + “You want something from me? You gotta ask nicely.” + abuse of power.

Andy Barber + Dad’s best friend + “I just want to take care of you.” + daddy kink.

Steve Rogers + no AU + “Don’t be a brat.” + manhandling.

Lloyd Hansen + Sugar Daddy + “Merry fucking Christmas, princess.” + captivity.

Steve Rogers + Mob boss + “I just want to take care of you.” + stockholm syndrome.

Curtis Everett + Boxer + “C’mere. I can’t see you from all the way over there.” + dom/sub.

Lloyd Hansen + No AU + “Merry fucking Christmas, princess.” + daddy kink.

Lloyd Hansen + Sugar Daddy + “That’s no way to speak to your future husband.” + daddy kink.

Robert Pronge/Mr. Freezy + Amnesia + “Don’t you love it when I touch you like this?” + stockholm syndrome.

Pete Brenner + Camgirl + “I can’t help it, I love you too much.” + dumbification.

Lloyd Hansen + Mob boss + “I love hearing you beg. You’re much sweeter that way.” + pet play.

Lloyd Hansen + Mob/mafia + “You have no idea what you do to a man like me.” + overstimulation.

Andy Barber + Boyfriend’s dad + “Come out, come out, wherever you are!” + cheating.

Ransom Drysdale + Step-brother + “Don’t you love it when I touch you like this?” + innocence.

Steve Rogers + Yandere + “You know what I hate more than broken promises? Liars.” + kidnapping.***

Pete Brenner + Camboy + “You ask too many questions. Just relax.” + drugging.

Lloyd Hansen + Maid + “Where do you think you’re going?” + abuse of power.

Johnny Storm + College/University + “I thought you hated me.” + stalking.

Ari Levinson + Stepfather + “Don’t be a brat.” + vaginal sex.

Steve Rogers + Fake Marriage + “What did you just say?” + sex pollen.***

Jake Jensen + Neighbour + “I had to—you gave me no other option.” + obsession.

Lloyd Hansen + Sugar Daddy + “Isn’t this so pretty? It reminded me of you.” + daddy kink.

Lloyd Hansen + Neighbour + “The least you could do is be grateful.” + humiliation.

Ransom Drysdale + Yandere + “Merry fucking Christmas, princess.” + captivity.

Ari Levinson + Soulmate + “Don’t fight me. You’ll only make it worse for yourself.” + overstimulation.

Steve Rogers + Boyfriend’s dad + “You have no idea what you do to a man like me.” + cheating.

Natasha Romanoff + Camgirl + “C’mere. I can’t see you from all the way over there.” + scissoring.

Ransom Drysdale + Step-brother + “You ask too many questions. Just relax.” + drugging.

Ari Levinson + Dad’s best friend + “You ask too many questions. Just relax.” + corruption.

Andy Barber + Dad’s best friend + “Can’t you see I’m trying?” + cum-marking.

Ari Levinson + Mob boss + “You want something from me? You gotta ask nicely.” + innocence.***

Robert Pronge/Mr. Freezy + Neighbour + “The least you could do is be grateful.” + drugging.

Steve Rogers + Mob boss + “You ask too many questions. Just relax.” + corruption.

Ari Levinson + Camboy + “Isn’t this so pretty? It reminded me of you.” + innocence.

Lloyd Hansen + Boyfriend’s dad + “I think I like you better when you’re gagged and crying on my dick.” + creampie.

Natasha Romanoff + Yandere + “You’re so cute when you’re struggling like that.” + mommy kink.

Natasha Romanoff + Boyfriend’s mom + “You’re shaking so much, honey… Just wait until I get my tongue on you.” + obsession.

Lloyd Hansen + no AU + “Where do you think you’re going?” + pet play.

Natasha Romanoff + CEO + “Go on. Let’s see how far you’ll make it.” + mommy kink.

Natasha Romanoff + Sugar Mommy + “You want something from me? You gotta ask nicely.” + begging.

Lloyd Hansen + Mob boss + “You have no idea what you do to a man like me.” + choking.

Ransom Drysdale + Sugar Daddy + “You’re so cute when you’re struggling like that.” + abuse of power.

Ari Levinson + Amnesia + “Take you home? This is home. You aren’t going anywhere.” + obsession.

Natasha Romanoff + Dad’s best friend + “You have no idea what you do to a woman like me.” + creampie.

Curtis Everett + Mob + “Don’t be a brat.” + squirting.

Andy Barber + Mob/Mafia + “Take you home? This is home. You aren’t going anywhere.” + stockholm syndrome.

Ransom Drysdale + Soulmate + “That’s no way to talk to your future husband.” + captivity.

Andy Barber + Professor + “Take you home? This is home. You aren’t going anywhere.” + finger-sucking.

Lloyd Hansen + Boss + “Aw, are you gonna cry?” + overstimulation.

707 notes · View notes

lavenderlacedquill · 2 months

Note

will pining for romantically dense reader ?? :D

˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚ 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐑𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐦 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 ˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚

Pairing: Will Graham x Reader

This has been living in my head all day today and I am actually dying to talk about it!

✧˖°

Okay okay, I imagine this pining situation taking place at work, likely while Will is predominantly teaching.

Every day he gets up in front of his students, presents them with the gruesome truth of being involved in the FBI entails all in the name of preparing them for their future career.

Then one morning, while speaking on ransom notes and their importance in solving cases, you walk in. The subtly in your steps does not go unnoticed by Will, but it wasn't until his eyes found you that his words escaped him.

It was only for a second, later covered by a small cough.

You work in graphology and were asked by Jack Crawford to bring in archived notes to pass around for the students, but Will had no idea.

Your interruption was considerate, "Good Morning, Professor Graham. I was asked to bring in some archived sample notes for your students. Would you mind if I passed them around?"

He was trapped in a trance, and your request nearly fell on deaf ears before he gestured towards his pupils, "Of course not. Thank you for bringing these in."

Your lips curl up ever so slightly in return before giving out the samples.

Will tries to reel his brain back onto the subject at hand, ultimately falling back onto the lesson plans perched onto his desk to light up his teaching spark again.

The small smile you give to each student as you passed them doesn't go unnoticed.

You're dressed in sleek blue, a color that brings out the light in your eyes, and he swears he has never seen someone so...there isn't even a word for it.

Once you've lapped around each of the students, just as you're about to open the door and exit the lecture, you stop. Dead in your tracks, hanging out of the threshold halfway, watching Will pace back and forth as his hands do most of the talking.

He's saying something about Jack the Ripper.

The sound of a bell ends his discussion prematurely, tens of bodies huddling towards you, their exit. Will trails closely behind them, catching the door before they trample you.

"I didn't know they made you teach the Ripper with graphology. Most think it's a sham"

His mind is blank. Completely blank. Your jokey tone is coupled with a smirk, letting him hear your laugh for the very first time. It's small and intoxicating, and Will is certain he will do whatever he can to hear it again.

"They don't make me, but I always do. You do incredible work. Would hate for that to go unnoticed,"

He does his best to catch your gaze before continuing, "And, if I hadn't, I wouldn't have had the pleasure of seeing you."

The polite and flirty comment...didn't land. You look at him with, if anything, slight confusion, and that absolutely perplexes him.

You leave for your own office only a couple minutes later, and after standing in your absence for only five minutes, Will is determined to see you again.

The next few weeks are filled with small romantic gestures, but as you seem to ignore them, Will only grows more desperate.

He sits beside you at every staff meeting, but each time you seem almost surprised, completely oblivious to the fact that he saved the seat for you.

While he doesn't eat lunch with the rest of his Prof peers, Will takes that time to leave small gifts at your desk, mainly snacks he's heard you like. A note always accompanies them, thanking you for any samples you've brought to class or small conversations caught between classes, but he never hears anything about them from you.

His efforts become so obvious that Jack noticed him waiting outside of your office, waiting for you so he could walk you to your car on a particularly late night...for the third time this week.

He gives a knowing sigh, "I don't know how she doesn't see it, Graham."

The brown haired man quickly turns to Jack, completely unaware that he was there. He tries to act nonchalantly, "What are you talking about, Jack? It's just late, you would do the same thing."

Jack chooses not to press too much more, instead hangs his head with a chuckle while slowly making his way farther from Will.

"You know how I know what's going on, Graham? I didn't even have to tell you what or who I was talking about."

The professor simply stares, dumbfounded.

The door beside him creaks, your frame trudging tiredly through, and when you sense the presence of the newly familiar Will Graham, you don't even question it.

"Professor Graham, to what do I owe this very late pleasure?"

Your computer bag is swiftly taken off of your shoulder and lands on his own, his hand immediately being held up upon your protest. Your feet take you on the nearly instinctive path outside.

"Please, let me. It's late and I didn't want you to have to walk through the parking lot alone."

He gained a smile, taking in every single ounce of it that he could.

"Well, thank you. I thought you might be here again tonight."

You miss the rising blush in his cheeks by mere seconds, the cold November air nipping your face as the pair of you meet the vast plain of the parking lot.

You see, it wasn't that you were ignoring Will's subtle advances, you just didn't really understand where they were coming from. You two weren't friends, only distant coworkers, so why was he leaving snacks in your office? Better yet, how did he find out which ones you liked?

Why was he practically racing to every meeting and saving you a seat like you do for your friend in grade school?

Why was he choosing to stay an hour later in his lecture hall just to walk you to your car?

Speaking of your car, it is now in your sight. With all of these questions bubbling to the surface, your pace slows, not going unnoticed.

Will glances at you with slight concern, "Is everything alright? I'm sorry it's so cold out. I should have offered you my jacket."

There it is again, an undoubtedly nice and sweet gesture out of nowhere.

"No no, that's alright. I uhm... can I ask you something?"

His nerves were practically jumping. A blush was soon to return to his face. His hand gestures towards you slightly, "Of course, ask away."

And now your nerves began to do the same, and it all felt so silly and childish. You both pause, only feet away from your car. Heat radiates from Will's body, enough to make you shiver.

"Where...where is this all coming from?"

He pretends to not know what you're talking about, emitting one of those confused stuttering noises that only happens during a white lie.

"No, seriously. The snacks, you saving seats for me in our meetings, and now you staying later to walk me to my car?"

Your head shakes in slight disbelief, one of those infectious laughs escaping you before continuing,

"I really hope this isn't coming across as rude, because you really have been so nice. Just...why? Where has this come from?"

There's a piercingness in your eyes that Will is only noticing now, not afraid or hesitant to hold your gaze in his. And your cheeks wind-nipped blush isn't simply pink or red, it's a delicate shade of berry that he can't quite place.

the both of you begin walking the short distance to your car, he opening your car door before beginning to answer.

"I'm sorry if those things came off strange, that was never my intention."

You began stepping into your car, but your movements halted once his next words hit your ears.

"I like you. I really do. I don't know how else to say that."

God he wanted to take the ear to ear grin he won from you and bottle it, but he couldn't have been prepared for what followed.

Just before you settled behind the wheel, ready to begin the long trek home, you stepped infinitely closer to the tall man. His breath grazed your face as you stood up on your tip toes, pressing a delicate kiss to his stubbled cheek.

The late November took your whisper with its wind, but not before it reached Will's ears.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Will."

✧˖°

I know this one was long, but I hope you enjoyed it! It was so very fun to write up :)

the beautiful gif at the top is from @rocktheholygrail, here is the original gif set it is from. I am new to using gifs on Tumblr and crediting their creators, so advice is always welcome :)

My requests are also open! Send me all of your Will Graham thoughts, just read my guidelines before doing so pretty please! :)

#my works #will graham x reader #nbc hannibal #hannibal x reader #will graham fanfiction #hannibal fanfiction #hugh dancy #hugh dancy fanfiction #hannibal lecter #x reader #imagine #fanfiction #will graham #request

149 notes · View notes

andi-kook · 5 months

Text

DEAD KIDS ✦ Chapter 2

SUMMARY: A group of university students kidnaps their rich batchmate for ransom. However, things take a darker turn when the new recruit grows a dangerous obsession with the captive and all hell breaks loose.

PAIRING: Jungkook x Fem!Reader

GENRE: Slow burn Yandere, Crime AU

WARNINGS: Not suitable for audiences below 18. Please do not engage with the story if you are underage. WATCH OUT FOR: dark and morally corrupt characters, foul language, mention of Catholicism, slut shaming and objectification of women, mention of inappropriate relationship between professor/student, mentions and depiction of “rape” and “rape fantasy” throughout the story, masturbation, threats, MC has an NSFW blog with hard kinks and fantasies, non consensual touching. Overall, this is a disturbing chapter – based on my standards – so if you are not comfortable with these topics, do not proceed. Inspired by the film, Dead Kids (2019).

TAGLIST: @hopeworldsupremacy @aliajomarie011 @ackercute @tatumrileyslover @ane102 @jjk174 @dontcallmeelle @merrygo1427 @taekritimin123 @r1r111 @gguksfilter @coralmusicblaze

If I didn’t tag you – either your blog doesn’t exist according to Tumblr or because you did not show your age in your blog. Thank you!

ANDI: I send my love to the beautiful souls who sent me asks about Dead Kids as well as these equally beautiful souls – @.taekritimin123 @.hellbornsworld @.tinytangerineangel @.namjesusdaughter – for commenting on Chapter 1. I cannot express just how much I appreciate your words. I would have tagged you directly, but I wasn’t sure if you would want that. But I wanted to show my appreciation.

WORD COUNT: 3K

“Why did you really want to take her?” Jungkook asks Namjoon as they sit and eat the ramen he cooked around the living area. Beside him, Yoongi and Hoseok are fast asleep, the latter clutching onto the former’s arm like it’s his plushie while the former has his head thrown against the headrest.

Namjoon, who is seated on the other makeshift sofa, gulps down the soup from his ramen before letting out a satisfied sigh and wipes his mouth with the back of his mouth. “How many times do we have to say that we kidnapped Y/N for ransom?”

“I’m not stupid, Namjoon,” Jungkook says. “We’re already tied to this shit until the ransom drop. The least you can do is be upfront on why you did this in the first place. I’m not taking a bullet for you or anyone.”

The buzz-cut haired man leans his back against the sofa, which unlike his premium one, is built from scratch by Jungkook using old wood and cases of beers around the warehouse. He gazes at Jungkook for a while, studying him while swimming in his own thoughts. The tattooed man wonders if Namjoon is contemplating telling him the truth. He wonders if the two sleeping men beside him also knew the truth.

They claim to have been friends since the fourth grade, but does time really make you know a person inside out?

“My father didn’t used to be the way he is now – corrupt. Growing up, I looked up to him because of how honest and upstanding he was as a cop. I knew he did some off-the-books shit, but he still had a moral compass, still had lines he didn’t cross. But then he met Y/N’s father, Kim Seokjin, when I was ten. Suddenly, everything changed,” Namjoon narrates, letting out a scoff as he shakes his head and rubs his palms on his baggy jeans. “He went from being a great husband and father to my mother and I to a complete asshole. We didn’t have religion but after meeting Kim Seokjin, we were suddenly Catholics, attending church with his family every Sunday. I was baptized and Kim Seokjin became my godfather. But the worst part was seeing him erase all the lines he drew and swore never to cross when he began to use his position as a detective and then eventually sergeant to now the chief of the entire police force in Seoul to protect Kim Seokjin and his criminal empire.”

Jungkook inhales deeply. “So, kidnapping Y/N is you taking on revenge against Kim Seokjin for corrupting your father? It is personal. It’s never about the money?”

“Of course, the money is important and integral to the plan. But yes, you are correct – I want to avenge my father from Kim Seokjin by hitting him where I know it will hurt the most: his only daughter, Y/N.”

“You promised that we are not going to hurt her,” Jungkook counters immediately.

Namjoon doesn’t say anything.

“Namjoon,” Jungkook clicks his tongue. “If you do that – what makes you different than Kim Seokjin?”

“Why are you so protective of her?” Namjoon asks pointedly. “What? Just because she gave you a boner, you’re suddenly fucking in love with her? Don’t think I didn’t notice. We all did. Yoongi is right – drop the morally upright act, Jeon. You’re just as demented as we are. The moment you agreed to this plan, you’re just as fucked up.”

The sudden call out makes Jungkook turn crimson and Namjoon smirks, placing his leg over the other. “Don’t worry – unlike you, I don’t judge people. To each our own. If shit like that turns you on, then that’s on you. Why don’t you take the opportunity to act on it?”

His eyes widen, shocked and disgusted. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

Jungkook knows exactly what Namjoon is talking about, but he is completely aghast at the insinuation.

The de facto leader only widens his smirk, pulling out his packet of cigarettes and lighter from the front pocket of his large, oversized coat. “You know what I’m talking about, Jeon. A pretty naked girl tied to a chair in your warehouse – it’s perfectly normal to feel aroused by such sight. We won’t judge you if you just get it over and done with.”

“You’re more than fucked up,” Jungkook hisses, face flushed and veins popping out on his neck. “I’m not going to fucking touch her.”

Namjoon lights the cigarette in between his lips. Then, he inhales, and smoke leaves his lips as he replies, “Why not? Y/N is a dirty slut who fucks her married professor with kids her age after church and dinner every Sunday night and more – I bet you all my cut that she’s not going to resist you because she’s probably into fucking someone having their own way with her. No, in fact, I can tell you she’s going to enjoy it.”

Jungkook feels hot. Images of your naked trembling body and whimpering pleas filling his mind and ears.

“She has a blog, you know? A secret blog where she writes these fantasies and kinks she has. Posts her nudes on there too. Do you wanna know what is one fantasy she keeps on writing about?”

“No, I really don’t,” Jungkook says through gritted teeth.

“It’s a rape fantasy, Jungkook. What a fucking dirty slut she is, right? I bet she’s fucking wet right now at the thought, at the anticipation that one of us or all of us are going to have our ways with her. I bet she’s aching to be touched. I bet she wants you to rape her, Jungkook. So, why not just do it?”

He stands up in a jolt, hitting his knee on the makeshift table he made from old tires and steel roof and stammering some excuse that he needs to go the bathroom or air – he can’t remember. Jungkook finds himself in his room, back pressed against the door. His shirt sticks to his skin because of the sweat, and he takes it off, leaving it discarded on the floor. Namjoon’s words mixed with the flashing images of your perky nipples, smooth skin, sound of your whimpers, pleas, your smell – it makes him hard. Harder than he’s ever been.

Before he knows it, Jungkook is unbuttoning his jeans, pulling it down along with his boxers, his erection springing free. He spits on his palm before he begins stroking his length, shuddering at the touch, making his mouth dry. He presses the back of his head against the door, eyes closed as he imagines you on your knees – like you were with the professor – those lips around his shaft, head bobbing as you suck him dry. He imagines hearing your moans, imagines his dick hitting the back of your throat as you go deeper and beg him to fuck your mouth like a whore. Jungkook’s stroking himself faster. He imagines hearing you gag as he fucks your mouth, not stopping even when you’re clearly suffocating. Then, he cums, toes curling and a guttural groan escaping his lips.

As he comes back from his high, Jungkook stares at the white sticky substance covering his hand and cock. He just jerked off to you, a girl they kidnapped, and he knows it won’t be the last time.

“Where the fuck have you been?” Yoongi hisses at him the moment he comes back from his room, showered and changed into more comfortable clothes.

Jungkook deliberately ignores the stare of Namjoon and flops on the seat beside Hoseok who is eating the remaining ramen. “Why the fuck do you care?”

“I’m going to punch this kid, I swear to God,” Yoongi grumbles, rolling his eyes. “We’re making the ransom call, you dumb fuck. Or rather, you are.”

Jungkook furrows his brows. “What? Why me?”

“Every one of us here has already encountered Y/N’s father at least once. The man remembers everyone he encounters. You’re the only exception,” Namjoon explains as he hands you a black phone. “It’s a burner phone, untraceable. I took it from my dad. And this is what you’re going to say – make sure you sound intimidating at least. Put it on speaker too.”

Namjoon places his phone on the makeshift table and Jungkook clicks his tongue. “The deal was you only use my warehouse. So far, you got me doing far more than that.”

“Do you want 25 million or not?” Yoongi asks, crossing his arms over his chest. “Cos if you do, you better start calling Kim Seokjin.”

I’m going to punch you soon, Jungkook tells himself before he unlocks the phone and goes to the contact list where Kim Seokjin’s name is the only one listed. He takes a deep breath, going over the script on Namjoon’s phone before clicking on the contact and putting the call on speaker. The ringing sound echoes throughout the warehouse. The tension is palpable again, like it was back in the car earlier that night.

After a few more rings, Kim Seokjin’s voice fills the warehouse. It’s light but a hint of roughness and irritation is noticeable right away.

“Who is this?”

Jungkook licks his lips as he read the script in front of him. “We have your daughter. If you want to see her alive, prepare 100 million won and bring it to 2020 this Friday night. Otherwise, the next time you’ll see her is on the news, dead.”

Hoseok covers his mouth to keep himself from laughing while Yoongi stares hard at the phone. Namjoon, on the other hand, is relaxed on his seat, smoking.

“You sound young, boy,” Seokjin remarks. “You are not the first person to call me in the middle of the night asking for ransom. Do you really have any idea what you’re doing?”

Namjoon motions for him to repeat what he just said.

“If you want to see her alive, prepare 100 mill—,”

“Don’t you think I would be able to find my daughter faster than you could ever imagine? Do you know who you’re talking to?”

That triggers Jungkook. He’s been hearing that question – that discrimination his entire life and he’s sick of it. He’s fucking sick of it.

“I don’t give a fuck who you are. Either you give us 100 million in exchange for your whore of a daughter or I will personally make you watch as we do everything we want with her, make you watch as she begs you to make it stop, make you listen as she takes her last breath before I fucking slit her throat so deep her head nearly decapitates. You have until Friday night – and you better make sure the police don’t get involved. Don’t fucking ask me who the fuck you are again.”

He ends the call, gripping the phone tightly.

“What the fuck was that? Why the hell didn’t you stick to the script?! Are you trying to get us all a one way ticket to prison?!” Yoongi exclaims.

“Did you not hear what he’s saying? He caught on that we are fucking amateurs. I saved our asses – you should be fucking grateful,” Jungkook snaps, clenching his jaw. “If you didn’t want me to do the call, maybe the three of you should have done it yourselves. Fucking useless bastards.”

“Hey! What did you say?” Hoseok stands, pushing Jungkook by placing his hands on his chest. “Who are you calling useless, huh?”

“Who do you think?” He scoffs.

“Let’s fucking kill this son of a bitch, Hobi.”

“Gladly.”

“Enough,” Namjoon says sternly. “No one is going to kill anyone. Not amongst ourselves. What Jungkook did is right, Yoongi. Jungkook saved our asses. And you,” He turns to the long-haired man, glaring at him. “Mind your fucking tone and language with us. We’re not fucking useless. Remember that we recruited you. Not the other way around. If anyone should be grateful to someone, it’s you. We’re the reason you’ll get out of this shit hole.”

Nobody says a word.

“It’s getting late. Let’s gather here tomorrow after our classes. Just go about your usual days until the drop. Don’t be suspicious,” The de facto leader reminds. “Jungkook, keep an eye out, okay? Don’t forget to check in on our little friend from time to time. Make sure she’s still breathing.” He smirks as he pats his shoulder on his way out.

Yoongi and Hoseok follow suit. Once Jungkook hears Namjoon driving off his – rather his aunt’s – property, he resigns to the sofa behind him. He buries his face into his hands. Five days. You’ll be stuck with him at the warehouse for five fucking days. Granted, he has classes to attend to, so he won’t be at home all day, but he’s sure you won’t leave his mind wherever he goes.

The phone in his hand buzzes and he stares at the new notification on the screen – a text message from an unknown number. Jungkook unlocks the phone, goes to the messaging app, and clicks on the new text.

avirgins1ut on tumblr if you wanna read some things tonight

“Fuck you, Namjoon,” Jungkook mutters under his breath. However, when he goes to his room, grabs his shitty phone and opens his data – he installs the app despite knowing it will consume almost all the remaining gigabytes he has left.

Jungkook lies down on his bed and creates his profile. He doesn’t bother customizing it, going straight to your blog which is all black and hot pink. Instantly, he’s drawn to your profile picture – a simple mirror shot of you hiding your bare chest with your arms, head tilt slightly to the side and a black panty covering your cunt. He swallows the lump in his throat as he scrolls down, reading your pinned post:

“Hey. You can call me Angel. I’m 23 years old. This blog is filled with all my fantasies and kinks, sometimes my nudes. Feel free to send me yours too.

My kinks: cnc, free use, somnophilia, spit, slapping, marking, choking, daddy, and more.

My favorite fantasies: rape play, kidnapped, kept as sex slave, knife/gun play, forced gangbang, and more – why don’t you help me unlock those? DMs and asks open for all your threats and nudes.

Update: already got myself a master/daddy. Asks and messages are off.”

As he scrolls further down your blog, Jungkook doesn’t even realize he already has his hand wrapped around his dick as he masturbates to your the latest fantasy you wrote albeit months ago.

I can’t stop masturbating to this dark fantasy of mine – being raped by someone so brutally after they kidnap me. How they would keep me chained to the bed, always naked so they can easily rape me whenever and however they want. They would mock me whenever I would tell them to stop (“You shouldn’t have worn those skirts if you didn’t want to be raped. But you did. So, this isn’t rape. You were clearly asking for this like some depraved filthy bitch in heat. You’re fucking loving this, don’t you? Isn’t this what you want?”) and choke me as they pound into my wet and clenching pussy relentlessly. They would slap and spit on my face, abusing my cunt for hours until I’m full of theirs and their friends’ cum whom they called to let them have a taste of their new toy.

They would rape me day in and out until my body gets so used to it that I start asking for it – crying and begging to be fucked. “Shh, angel, daddy’s going to fuck you, okay? Don’t cry.” Slowly, I would forget all my autonomy and identity, wholly submitting myself to them because I was never my own in the first place – I was always theirs.

“Fuck, Y/N!” His entire body shakes as he cums again. Jungkook can’t stop – he wants to read more, see more as you posted a picture of your cum covered cunt at the end of the post and he imagines it’s his. But he gets a notification that he is out of data and Jungkook slams his phone on his bed, frustrated beyond bounds. He is still hard. He still wants to see more of you, read more of your fantasies.

Namjoon’s words echo in his mind. I bet she’s fucking wet right now at the thought, at the anticipation that one of us or all of us are going to have our ways with her. I bet she’s aching to be touched. I bet she wants you to rape her, Jungkook. So, why not just do it?”

And before he knows it – he is standing across from your limp body. You’re still unconscious – sack over your head, tied and bound on the metal chair. Jungkook walks towards you, gently touching your shoulders to see if you would react but you don’t. He bites his lower lip as his eyes fall on your naked chest. He reaches down to trace its curves before ultimately cupping one breast in hand, fondling, squeezing, twisting the nipple and pinching it. No response.

He begins to stroke himself as he continues to fondle your breasts. This is wrong, but why does it feel so good?

“F-Fucking slut, you’re asking for this,” Jungkook hisses through his teeth. He’s not going to last any longer – not when those perky nipples are so inviting and moments later, he cums all over tits. He’s panting, an exhilarating feeling he hasn’t felt before rising within him as he stares at your cum covered chest. He swallows, breathing heavily. Should he stop now or keep going? He doesn’t have data anymore, but he does have the real thing right in front of him. But you twitch and he jumps in surprise. Suddenly, the realization of his actions washes upon him. He feels a coil in his stomach. What has he done? He scrambles out of the room and dash straight to the bathroom where he extensively washes his hand and splashes cold water on his face. Then, he throws himself on his thin mattress, staring at the ceiling as he pants. Namjoon is right – he’s just as fucked up as they are.

CHAPTER 3 is coming soon.

TAGLIST: Wanna be part of Dead Kids’ taglist? Fill out this form and don’t forget to read the short note in order for me to tag you.

ANDI: I do not condone the behaviors exhibited in this story. The characters of Jungkook, Namjoon, Yoongi and Hoseok do not reflect who they are in real life. Fanfiction is just fanfiction. I have no schedule in writing – I write whenever I can. Please try to refrain from sending asks about updates (or at least be kind and polite about it) and let me know your feedbacks instead as they help a lot in motivation and inspiration! 🦉

#yandere jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook fic #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #jungkook au #yandere jeon jungkook #yandere bts #bts x reader #bts fic #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts au #dark jungkook #dark bts #andi.writes 💭

271 notes · View notes

steviebbboi · 4 days

Text

Stevie BB 200 Followers Celebration Writing Challenge!

Howdy lads~ exciting news to share:

I just reached a 200 follower count on Tumblr 🎉🎉🎉

I kinda can't believe it? Writing is indeed good for my soul. Interacting with y'all on here has helped me with my mental and emotional wellness due to just finding such great community on here. Thank you for giving me the space to write and for following along/supporting in my writing journey 💖

With that spiel spoken, I wanted to host a writing challenge in celebration of this milestone! *squealing because i'm so excited to host*

You could participate by sending in either:

✨ writing request via my Asks (💙)

and/or

✨ writing submissions (💥).

General Rules:

the challenge will start October 1st until the end of November (flexible on late entries for submissions only💥; let's say till mid-December or so).

I'll read/write for Chris Evans characters, Henry Cavill Characters, and Charlie Hunnam characters [and Bucky Barnes specifically lol] (these are my preferences but if there are other characters that you'd like to bring in, just ask me)!

for writing requests 💙, i will only be accepting requests (2 max/person; pls do not send more than 2 asks!) until the end of November.

for writing submissions 💥, go wild! submit as many as you like!

you can do both (send in a writing request 💙 AND send in a writing submission(s)💥) if you want to; rules still apply for the requests though.

use at least one prompt within your request 💙/submissions💥 from the lists below (but def. go crazy if you wanna use more than one! you don't have to claim any prompts).

works can be inclusive! poc, gender neutral, neurodivergencies, mid size/plus size/curvy readers are encouraged!

No word limits but please use a 'read more' after 200 words

Works can be part of an existing series but must be able to stand on their own

tag me @steviebbboi and use the tags #bbboi200celebration and #steviebbboiwritingchallenge in your entry so i can read/reblog your work! (If I somehow lose sight of your submission, please remind me and I'll take a look at it right away ☺️)

Most important one: Have fun!

How To Play:

✨ You must be 18+ to participate in this challenge!

✨ Choose one (or multiple 😏) BB's:

Chris Evans Characters

Steve Rogers/Captain America

Ransom Drysdale

Ari Levinson

Frank Adler

Curtis Everett

Andy Barber

Hayden/Harvard Hottie

Nick Gant

Jake Jensen

Johnny Storm

Lloyd Hansen

Henry Cavill Characters

Clark Kent

Napoleon Solo

Geralt of Rivia

August Walker

Charlie Hunnam Characters

Jax Teller

Raymond Smith *extra brownie pts if you write about him omg*

King Arthur

Sebastian Stan

Bucky Barnes [he's all by himself im so sorry lmfao 🥹]

✨ Choose one (or more) of the following prompts:

*if you don't want to write smut, you don't have to choose anything from the kinks prompt! feel free to only use the following two prompts :)

soft dom!BB

clothes/naked ratio

size kink

slow and deep 👀

breeding kink (non-pregnancy version)

somnophilia

free use

cockwarming

belly bulge

Squirting

consensual non-con

consensual dub-con

cumeating

creampie

anal/or dp

possessive/or protective manhandling!BB

oral sex

orgasm delay

dumbification

daddy/princess kink

overstimulation

sex pollen

prone bone

cockdrunk

threesome (BB/Reader/BB)

ass/pussy spanking

mild degradation

body worshipping

quickie/don't get caught (public sex, threats of exhibitionism, etc.) 😏

Grouchybb! who is only soft with you

Married and loyal!spouse

A/B/O

lumberjack!bb who is a teddy bear on the inside tho

mob AU

biker AU

soulmate AU

mutual pining/idiots in love

childhood besties to lovers

reformed playboy

professor AU

supernatural/mythical (gods, sirens, werewolves, witches, vampires, ghosts, oh my!)

frenemies to lovers

fwb to lovers

locked in AU/forced proximity

medieval AU

fake dating/relationship

sharing one bed

polar opposites attract

break up and make up

spy AU

meet cute

cowboy AU

gentle recluse!BB

brothers best friend!BB

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

"Yes, take it, slut"

"It's not that big of a deal."

"God, why do you always do this"

"You're impossible."

"Then I guess we gotta be quiet, huh?"

"We're trapped."

"Shh, you wouldn't want anyone to hear, or do you?"

"You're taking me so well, baby"

"Good girl" *for fem readers; adjust accordingly!*

"Tsk, uh-uh, c'mere, honey"

"You always feel so good around me, baby"

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Here, let me help you."

"Yeah, are you a cockhungry slut, now?"

"I hardly think that that's necessary."

"Don't be a brat, baby."

"Aw, does it feel good right there?"

"I'm sorry!"

"What do you want from me?!"

"I didn't mean to!"

"What do you think you're doing here?"

"Nope. Again."

"Don't worry, I got you."

"Just stay still, there you go."

"Just one more, I promise."

"C'mon, don't you wanna be good?"

"Stay over there!"

"You better hurry up, baby."

"Thaaaat's it, you're doing so well, honey."

"Uhm, I'm not sure that's going to work."

"Please, I'll beg, please!"

"Be honest."

"Be careful there, darlin'."

"Are you okay?"

"Are you sure you wanna go there?"

Scenarios? Any! Go. Wild.

✨ I love reading/writing angst w/HEA, soft dark (nothing too dark though), fluff and SMUT (as you can see w/the many many kinks).

no incest (stepcest is ok if tasteful lol), no infidelity, no watersports, no murder, no gore. if you're unsure if a trope is appropriate, ask me!

if im ever uncomfy with writing something, i will lyk and we can talk more about it to see if we could work with it!

feel free to ask any questions!

i think i got everything!

Have the best time, laddies~ thanks for celebrating with me!

All are welcome to join in the fun! ❣️

Tagging a few mutuals who may be interested but no pressure bbs:

@bigtreefest @mercurial-chuckles @stargazingfangirl18 @yenzys-lucky-charm

@sweater-daddiesdumbdork @buckets-and-trees @hotdamnhunnam @laurfilijames

@autumnrose40 @eloquentlytired @misscherry-26 @stellar-solar-flare

@darsynia @navybrat817

#steviebbboi answers #bbboi200celebration #steviebbboiwritingchallenge #200 followers omgggg #writing challenge #chris evans fanfiction #henry cavill fanfiction #charlie hunnam characters #writing prompts #writing community #writing prompt #writeblr #writers challenge #writers stuff #signal boost for writers challenges #signal boost #boost

111 notes · View notes

dream-a-little-bigger-x · 1 year

Text

I Think He Knows | Spencer Reid

Add yourself to my taglist! | Here’s my masterlist!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: JJ invites her best friend, a linguistics professor, to help out on a couple of cases. When she and Spencer work together, something sparks between them.

Warnings: Your usual Criminal Minds murders and gore, inappropriate thoughts and conversations about coworkers, making out, plot holes (read author's note),

Author's note: I know Season 4, Episode 12 is without JJ, but let's pretend JJ is there anyway and Jordan has never been there, okay? Okay. Thank yew.

Words: 4.3K

“I think he knows.”

JJ’s brows furrowed as she looked at her best friend, back pressed against the shut door of her office. It took her one look at the wide-eyed, worry-filled girl to know just what the hell she was even talking about.

Everything had started when JJ introduced her to the team.

JJ and y/n had been childhood best friends and kept in contact, even when both of them moved away from Pennsylvania. While JJ moved to Washington DC to join the FBI, y/n was making her career as a linguistics professor in New York City. So, when they needed a linguistic expert, y/n was the first one JJ called for her expertise.

“Thank you so much for coming,” JJ said as she embraced her oldest friend.

A smile resided on her face. “Of course, Jayj. Anything for you.”

“Come, meet the team!”

JJ grabbed y/n’s hand and dragged her towards the bullpen. Everyone seemed to be gathered around one particular desk, hunched over a case file.

“Guys, I want you to meet y/n, she’s gonna help us with linguistics,” JJ said, capturing everyone’s attention. “y/n/n, these are Derek Morgan, Emily Prentiss, Aaron Hotchner, David Rossi, Penelope Garcia and Spencer Reid.” She introduced them, pointing at each member of the team as their name was called.

Y/N simply offered all of them an awkward wave, suddenly self-conscious about the attention she was getting. “Luckily, I’m good with names,” she chuckled, which made the others laugh too.

The eight of them filed into the briefing room where JJ explained the case to everyone. Luckily – if you could use that word in this field – it was a local case, meaning y/n could stay with JJ for the time being. The two women were actually quite excited about that.

This one seemed to be a pretty open-and-shut case. An abduction of a politician's daughter with a ransom note that led the team straight to the Unsub. Spencer and y/n worked on the note together, both of them quickly noticing some outstanding quirks of the guy’s personality.

“First and foremost, I can tell you that the guy you’re looking for is actually a guy,” y/n started explaining to the team when they had regrouped. “He uses a lot of articles, prepositions and big words. So, we are looking in the right direction.”

Spencer nodded his head in agreement. “He’s also very precise in his choice of words, so he’s most likely an introvert. He tells us exactly where to be and at what time, something an extrovert wouldn’t do.”

“He’s also using ‘I’ and ‘mine’, which further proves the introverted side of this UnSub. Normally, higher rates of ‘I’ words correspond with feelings of insecurity, threat and defensiveness. Closer inspection of his ‘I’ use in context tends to confirm this,” y/n continued, seamlessly flowing with Spencer in their debrief.

“Not only that, but the number of words such as ‘except’, ‘but’, and ‘however’ changed. These are all ways to encourage dialogue or thinking and indicate higher cognitive processes. They also signify a willingness to tell the truth,” said Spencer.

The two of them glanced at each other and offered a smile before turning to the rest of the team, who were looking at them as though they had just witnessed a talking dog.

“It’s like they’re copy-pasted,” Emily muttered.

Y/N felt her cheeks heat up and when she looked over at her partner-in-solving-linguistics-psyche, his cheeks had a dust of rouge. Before either of them could add anything else, Hotch nodded his head before scraping his chair back.

“We’re ready to give a profile. Let’s head down to the Metropolitan Police Department,” he ordered and everyone quickly followed. Even y/n. With the research she and Spencer had done, they were their best options to go over the profile with the detectives.

It felt great to be doing such important work, especially when her analysis helped catch the guy in the end. Even better when JJ had asked her to come back on another case, needing her language expertise again.

Every time, she and Spencer worked closely together to try and analyze any sort of text that had been brought up during the case. Whether it was newspaper ads, ransom notes or blog posts. Nothing was too hard for the duo.

The fifth time they asked her, it was a bit more of a difficult case.

When she had walked into the BAU that morning of the fifth case, her breath had hitched in her throat. She couldn’t deny that she found the young doctor very attractive, but there was something about him that morning with his hair slicked back and the patterned button-down and his perpetually crooked tie.

“Morning,” Spencer greeted with a beautiful smile that had her knees buckle.

She grimaced, trying to keep herself composed, but it was proving to be a lot more difficult that day. “Good morning,” she greeted back. Her brain decided she needed him to feel the same way she did. “You look good this morning, Doc.”

When the resident genius blushed furiously, she knew she had succeeded. He awkwardly coughed whilst his lips quirked up into a shy smile. “Th-thank you, y/n. So–so do you.”

“Thanks.” Her eyes stayed glued on his, something unspoken passing between the two when the rest of the team entered the bullpen.

JJ, being y/n’s best friend, immediately caught onto what was happening between the two. But, with the task at hand, she decided not to say anything. Yet.

Though y/n knew that she knew.

JJ always knew.

For this case, the team flew to Sarasota in Florida and y/n was allowed to come along. Once everyone was briefed about the case, they all piled onto the jet where y/n took her trusty spot next to JJ. While she was reading over the case file again, she couldn’t help but sneak glances at Spencer, who was sitting on the other side of the plane.

Sometimes, their gazes would meet and they’d turn away quickly, like two teenagers who were crushing on one another.

“Okay, what’s going on between you two?” JJ asked softly, not wanting the coworker in question to hear her.

Y/N furrowed her brows, barely taking her eyes off the file, even though they involuntarily flitted back towards the youngest on the team. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Jayj.”

“You and Spence. You can’t lie to me, y/n/n. You’re acting the exact same way you did when you had that crush on Landon during our senior year.”

A soft gasp left y/n’s mouth. “I forgot about Landon,” she whispered, giggling at the memory of her constant gushing over the boy. It took her a good four months of swooning over him before he finally asked her out.

JJ’s eyebrows rose in question, impatiently so.

“Okay, I’m not gonna lie that I find him attractive,” y/n admitted, but it wasn’t enough for her best friend. “Fine,” she grumbled, then sighed, admitting defeat. “I–” but before she got go off on a tirade, Penelope appeared on the laptop screen, wanting to let them know what she had found.

“This is not over,” JJ warned as the team descended the jet afterwards.

The Sarasota Police Department had a suspect in custody, but not enough evidence to keep him for more than forty-eight hours, so they were on a clock. The team worked tirelessly, trying to piece together the evidence. While the others went to the crime scenes, the suspect’s house or the ME, Garcia had found a blog post on the guy’s computer, which Spencer and y/n were now decoding together.

“Look,” y/n said, pointing to a paragraph on the printed copy of the blog post. “He switches between the words ‘soda’ and ‘pop’.”

His shoulder brushed against hers as he leaned over to look at the paper she was pointing at. The feeling of his body being so close to hers caused her to heat up from the inside out. Her bodily reaction told her she wanted more of him. She wanted him to be this close at all times.

“This is not just one person,” he mumbled, then pointed to another paragraph. “Not one person ever uses dashes and ellipses in the same text, right?”

Y/N nodded. “Yeah, you’re right,” she said. “Ellipses and dashes are not interchangeable, but the misuse of either and both is common. A dash is a highlighter. An ellipsis takes the place of missing words. Not one person ever uses both in texts.”

“Hey, lovebirds,” Morgan’s voice interrupted them, even startling y/n a little.

She had been too wrapped up in her own world, she hadn’t even noticed Morgan and Rossi walking in with the Sheriff by their side.

“You found anything?” asked Rossi, unable to hide the smirk underneath his mustache.

Spencer nodded his head before taking a step back from y/n. “Garcia’s been digging through William’s computer. She found an encrypted link to a web page.”

“Where’d it take you?” Derek questioned.

Y/N put the lid back on her red Sharpie before sticking it in her ponytail, wedging it between the hairband and the crown of her head. “An unsearchable, untraceable blog with tons of journal entries. It’s like some sort of diary.”

“You find anything incriminating?” Rossi asked.

“We were able to differentiate between two distinct voices. Two authors,” Spencer started explaining and y/n couldn’t but gawk at him, intrigued by what he was saying even though she already knew. “We found various idiosyncratic words, phrases, punctuation and orthography within the blog entries, consistent with each separate person.”

“Words like “soda” and “pop”,” y/n added.

Nodding, Spencer added with a smile, “One guy uses dashes while the other uses ellipses.” The giggle at the end of his sentence made y/n’s stomach flutter.

Spencer being so interested in the English language had to have been the cutest thing she had ever seen. It made her heart skip a beat and her spine tingle all the way to her toes. “That was hot,” she muttered, her eyes widening upon realizing the words didn’t stay in her mind.

Luckily, Spencer had already returned to the board and Rossi was too busy talking to the Sheriff to have heard it. The only person, much to y/n’s dismay, that did hear it, was Derek Morgan. With that devilish smirk of his plastered on his face he was looking down at her.

She coughed and turned back to the rest of the team. “One side of the discourse made reference to the “devil’s strip”,” she explained before Derek could start his relentless teasing.

“What the hell’s that?” asked the Sheriff.

At that moment, Spencer turned around again, not realizing y/n had moved and nearly bumped into her. Instead of stepping back, though, he remained in his spot with his chest pressed against her back. It sent yet another shiver down her spine, which required y/n to breathe in deep before she lost control and jumped his bones then and there.

“It’s a small patch of grass that separates the sidewalk from the street. Now, that term is only used in central Ohio. William lived in Atlanta for twenty years, but he grew up in Columbus,” Spencer explained.

In agreement, y/n hummed. “The other guy uses words like “turnpike” and “filling the gas tank”, both specific regionalisms for Florida,” she continued just as one of the deputies passed by with William in handcuffs.

Derek looked back at the suspect before turning to the linguistics duo. “Kid, you sure about this?” he asked Spencer, which merely earned him a slight tilt of the head and a deadpanned glare that said ‘seriously?’.

Of course Spencer and y/n were sure about this and Derek knew better than to doubt that.

While Morgan and Rossi went to question William about what they found, Spencer and y/n continued working on the blog. After a good hour, y/n decided to go and get them both some coffee, needing the pick-me-up to keep herself going.

“Here,” she muttered, handing the cup to him. “With three spoonfuls of sugar.” She then pouted, “They didn’t have almond milk.”

Spencer chuckled before reaching in his satchel and handing her a carton of almond milk. Surprised, y/n added a cloud of the milk into her coffee, ignoring how her heart was soaring.

She smiled a thankful smile and took a sip of the hot beverage as the two of them turned back to the splayed out blog posts on the board in front of them.

“Wait,” he then mumbled with his brows furrowed. “Where’s the–” he stopped in his tracks when his eyes fell on the item he was looking for.

Gazing up at him, y/n’s heart quickened when he reached for her head and fished the red Sharpie out of her hair. “Right, sorry,” she whispered, nearly swooning at the soft smile on his face.

She watched as Spencer started adding lines and annotating a paragraph of the blog post. As she followed what he was doing, her brain started to form theories and analytics. “Faith should never be broken,” she read aloud, then wiggled her nose in thought. “The longer they got away with it, the stronger their relationship,” she pointed out.

Within the next few hours, Derek came to check on the two of them, wanting to know if they had gotten any further into finding out who William’s partner was. Then, later, the whole team had gathered again to brief one another on their findings.

“Connie Mayers described an Anger Excitation Rapist, just like William,” Emily told them.

“So, we’re looking at two dominant personalities?” asked Derek.

Y/N nodded her head as the words registered in her brain. “That makes sense,” she said. “They have a similar discourse.” Spencer nodded his head as well, agreeingly.

“They’re equally well-written,” he added.

“That’s a big deal?” the Sheriff wanted to know.

Spencer’s eyes skidded from the Sheriff to y/n and back as he said, “It’s rare in criminal partnerships.”

“If their personalities are the same, their lives probably mirror one another’s as well,” Emily clarified.

As the Sheriff spoke, y/n went to sit on the desk in front of Spencer, needing to give her feet a rest. “Harris goes to church, on the board of the PTA, coaches his daughter’s soccer team, rarely drinks.”

“Sounds like a saint,” JJ commented with a roll of her eyes.

“With a dark side,” Hotch offered. “It’s what he connected to in the partner.” He then nodded to Emily. “Prentiss and I will go talk to the family, see if they know who it might be.” Hotch and Emily exited the precinct, leaving the rest of the team to their own projects.

Derek sighed as he moved closer towards the board. “Two alpha males won’t be easy to break,” he pointed out.

“The partner is definitely following the investigation,” JJ added with a determined nod.

“Let’s do the talking for them,” Rossi suggested.

“You want me to put this out in the public?” asked the blonde.

Rossi held up the bundle of papers that contained the blog posts. “We’ve got something better.”

“Why would he read it?” the Sheriff wanted to know. “He knows William won’t be writing.”

“These men are addicted to each other,” Derek argued. “Right now, he needs a fix, and the words they’ve shared are all he has to cling to.”

Y/N climbed off the desk again as an idea popped into her head. “His partner wrote “Faith should never be broken”. A betrayal could devastate him.”

“All we have to say is that William’s cooperating, and then hope he takes the bait,” Derek said.

Nodding their heads in agreement, Spencer and y/n gathered in front of the laptop. “You should do the typing,” he said. “You’re probably our best shot at tricking him.”

With a smile, y/n took a seat. “Why, thank you, gentleman,” she cooed, earning those flustered rosy cheeks from him. Together, the two of them came up with a pretty convincing blog post that would get the UnSub to reach out.

“What do we got so far?” Derek asked.

“We were surprised that you injected yourself into the investigation. You risked a lot in order to help William.” Y/N and Spencer read it aloud at the same time, their voices mixing together smoothly like a perfect harmony in a song.

Deciding not to comment on how blatantly obvious the two had been, Derek turned back to the task at hand. “And killing Missy tells us how close you really are.” Y/N quickly typed it up into the computer. “It must be devastating to learn that William is here with us.”

“He’s not gonna like that, it sounds like William is cooperating,” Spencer mumbled as he placed one hand on the desk, the other on the back of y/n’s chair to lean in closer to read the words on screen.

Y/N’s breath hitched in her throat as she felt his breath fan against her cheek. “Well,” she coughed to try and keep her composure. “That’s exactly what we want him to believe, so he’ll doubt their alliance.”

Once the blog post was sent, all the team could do was wait for the partner’s response. While they did that, Morgan, Spencer and y/n continued working to try and find something else, just in case their first plan fell through.

It took them a while. A lot of back and forth between Morgan and William, a lot of trying to decipher the blog posts. But in the end, the entire team managed to find William’s partner and save Andrea from her neighbor’s claws. Once they had both of them arrested, the BAU could finally breathe again.

Spencer and y/n were cleaning up the mess they had made with analyzing the blog entries. The both of them kept to themselves in silence, trying to calm their overheated brains. Out of the five cases she assisted on, this one had to have been the hardest.

As y/n absentmindedly reached for a pile of paper, Spencer did the same, causing their hands to bump. “Oh,” y/n giggled, a chuckle rolling off Spencer's lips as well. “Sorry,” they both apologized before he retracted his hand, allowing her to grab the pile.

“I, uh, I enjoyed working with you – a-again,” he stammered nervously.

A smile curved her lips. “As did I with you, Spence.”

The smile he gave her made her knees buckle. Anything this man did would make her weak. She had all these feelings bubbling up inside her the second she merely looked at him and it was driving her absolutely nuts.

But there was nothing she could do about it. After this case, she’d be going back to New York City without even knowing when she’d be seeing the Behavioral Analysis Unit again. For all she knew, she was never going to see Dr. Spencer Reid again.

“Penelope?” y/n knocked on the tech’s door when she was back at Quantico. There was a file she needed to grab to complete her after-action report Hotch made her write. She was part of the team for that case after all.

“Come in, girly pop!” Penelope exclaimed as she opened the door, her ever-chirpy attitude beaming off the walls as soon as she appeared in front of her. “I’ve got the file right here…” she trailed off whilst walking over to her desk to retrieve said file. When y/n reached for the manila folder, the blonde held it just out of reach.

“Pen–”

“First, you gotta tell me what’s going on between you and Reid,” she almost sounded threatening. As soon as y/n opened her mouth to lie, Penelope cut her off. “And don’t lie to me!”

She could feel her heart overflowing, needing to spill her deepest, darkest thoughts she had been locking inside. With a sigh, y/n plopped down on Garcia’s chair. Sensing the upcoming spilling-of-beans, Penelope perked herself on the corner of her desk.

“He’s got my heart… skipping down sixteenth Avenue,” she started, earning a gasp from the blonde. “H-he’s got that…” she moaned out a sound that had to resemble how she was feeling, “I mean… I just wanna see what’s under all that intelligence, you know?”

“Y/N! You dirty dog!” Penelope giggled, hitting the girl in front of her with the manila folder.

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh too, but then sighed. “But there’s nothing going to happen there. I’ll be off to New York later tonight and then who knows when I’ll see all of you again. It’s better that nothing happened.” She shrugged and got up from the chair, grabbing the file from Penelope’s hands.

As Penelope protested, y/n turned around towards the door, only halting with widening eyes when she saw who was standing in the doorway. Her mind raised, trying to think of what he could’ve heard and debating whether or not he had heard it. Before she could embarrass herself even more, she quickly bid her goodbyes and sneaked past him, rushing towards JJ’s office.

She hid inside, shutting the door behind her before leaning her back against it. Her eyes were still widened as they landed on JJ in a panic. “I think he knows,” she told her best friend.

“What do you mean?” JJ asked, chuckling, dropping the file she was working on.

Y/N took a seat in one of the chairs in front of JJ’s desk. “I was talking to Penelope about how–” she sighed. “About how I wanted to see what was under that intelligence…”

“Y/N!” JJ scolded, though her lips curled up in a bemused smirk.

“Worst of all is, when I got up to leave, he was standing in the doorway…”

JJ’s jaw dropped. “Do you think he heard?”

“I don’t know! I was too embarrassed to stay and ask, I just left!” Her voice came out squeaky from embarrassment alone. She didn’t quite know what to do with herself. She was hoping her best friend would know what to do.

“I think you should go talk to him,” JJ suggested the one thing she didn’t want to do.

Shaking her head, y/n protested. “Nuh-uh, Jayj, I’m leaving for New York tonight. Who knows if I’ll ever see him again!”

“I do,” JJ told her. “You’re my best friend, I might hope you come and visit me often,” she joked and y/n did laugh, but it was a half-hearted one. The dilemma seemed to be eating her alive. “Go talk to him.” The order was so sweet, yet stern enough that y/n obeyed and exited the office.

In the breakroom, she found the one she was looking for. He was making himself a cup of tea to keep him awake enough to finish his report. As he blew on the hot beverage, he glanced over the mug towards y/n, shooting a bolt of lightning through her heart with the intensity of his gaze.

“Hi,” she greeted awkwardly.

Spencer offered her a smile. “Hi.”

“You, uh…” Her brain almost short-circuited, not knowing what to say. “You wanna get out of here? Go for a walk to clear our heads before continuing on our reports?” She needed the fresh air. Maybe that would clear the fog that clouded her judgment.

“Sure,” he agreed and set his mug down before following after her.

As soon as they stepped outside, Spencer turned to y/n. “I heard you, by the way–” Her eyes shut tight. “I-I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, I just needed to ask Penelope about something and then I heard you and–”

“It’s fine, Spence. I-I shouldn’t have–” She cut herself short, noticing the look on Spencer’s face. His eyes sparkled in the dim streetlight, his smile almost lyrical. “What?”

He shook his head with a giggle. “I’ve had a crush on you ever since we were going back-and-forth about that first ransom note.”

Y/N’s heart was nearly beating out of her chest at his confession. This had to be a dream.

“And when I noticed how flustered you were when Emily insisted we were copy-pasted, I was a goner. It sounds so weird, but I’ve never met someone who met my level of intelligence.”

“Barely,” y/n scoffed, but Spencer either ignored her quip or he didn’t hear it.

“I love how your eyes light up whenever you deduct how someone’s been using ‘I’ instead of ‘we’ or when the intent of the sentence dawns on you. I love how you stick your pens in your ponytail when you don’t have your hands free and how you wiggle your nose when you’re thinking. I love how you know my coffee order and how you’d get upset when no one has almond milk for yours.”

She was absolutely soaring. Her heart was skipping, her eyes nearly tearing up at the sweetest of words rolling off his lips.

Before he could add anything that would send her into hysterical sobbing, she leaned in and kissed his lips sweetly. It was a quick kiss, more like a peck. Just to gauge his reaction. When his hands came up to cup her face, a soft smile landed on her lips before he kissed it away.

This time around, it was deep and passionate; like he had been waiting to do this for the past five weeks, the same way she had been waiting to do this. She reeled at the feeling of his warm tongue slipping past her tingling lips.

All of it reminded her of being seventeen again, no one understanding what she was feeling.

But he understood.

He knew.

Everything taglist: @calamitykaty @littlemissaddict @n0wornever @wanniiieeee @unnowhatthisistbh

Criminal Minds Taglist:

@boimlers-gonna-boim @samsbirks @tinaasthings @dysphoricsanity @love4lando @elenamoncada-ibarra @r-3dlips @magstheslayer @astess

#spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #criminal minds

491 notes · View notes

the-queen-of-hell-666 · 19 days

Text

2024 Kinktober Masterlist

I'm so sorry for not posting like at all this year but it's been a very long year. College classes started up again this fall and I'm swamped with work. This is my list for Kinktober this year. I will do my best to keep up but anywho, I hope you enjoy!

Banners by @vase-of-lilies

Key: Fluff; 🌙 // Angst; 👿 // Smut; 🔥 // Dark; 🕸️

Day 1: Deepthroating/Facesitting (Daryl Dixon (Prison Era) x Fem!Reader)

Day 2: Semi-Public Sex (Ransom Drysdale x Fem!Reader)

Day 3: Knotting (Alpha!Jim Hopper x Assistant!Omega!Fem!Reader)

Day 4: Phone Sex (John Winchester x Hunter!Fem!Reader)

Day 5: Squirting (Obsessive!Perv!Billy Hargrove x Bimbo!Fem!Reader)

Day 6: Cuckolding (Shy!Jake Jensen x FemmeFatal!Fem!Reader x Franklin Clay)

Day 7: Biting/Marking (Possessive!Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader)

Day 8: Morning Sex (CACW!Steve Rogers x Avenger!Fem!Reader)

Day 9: Praise Kink (Insecure!Geralt of Rivia x Healer!Fem!Reader)

Day 10: Mommy Kink (Needy!Johnny Storm (CE) x Mommy!Fem!Reader)

Day 11: Caught (Daryl Dixon (Prison Era) x Fem!Reader)

Day 12: Sex Toys (Lawyer!Sam Winchester x Fem!Reader)

Day 13: Virginity Kink (Professor!Logan Howlett x Virgin!Mutant!Fem!Reader)

Day 14: Shotgunning (Needy!Ransom Drysdale x Fem!Reader)

Day 15: Tentacles (Part-Kraken!Steve Rogers x Princess!Fem!Reader)

Day 16: Spanking (Brat!Johnny Storm (CE) x Dom!CEO!Fem!Reader)

Day 17: Breeding (Wolf-Hybrid!Geralt of Rivia x Fem!Reader)

Day 18: Tittyfucking (Wade Wilson x Plus-Sized!X-Men!Fem!Reader)

Day 19: Hate Sex (Robin Buckley x Cheerleader!Fem!Reader)

Day 20: Edging (Young!Logan Howlett (X-Men1) x Professor!Mutant!Fem!Reader)

Day 21: Dub-con/Non-con (Grumpy!Dark!Lloyd Hansen x Sunshine!Innocent!Fem!Reader)

Day 22: Stripping (CEO!Nick Fowler x Stripper!Fem!Reader)

Day 23: Anal Sex (Dark!Steve Kemp x Innocent!Fem!Reader)

Day 24: Pegging (Brat!Wade Wilson x Mean!Dom!Fem!Reader)

Day 25: Lactation (Dad!Steve Rogers x Mom!Pregnant!Reader)

Day 26: Age Difference (Older!Daryl Dixon (Alexandria Era) x 20s!Sunshine!Fem!Reader)

Day 27: Gagging (Mob!Bucky Barnes x Bimbo!Fem!Reader)

Day 28: DP in One Hole (CEO!Married!Stucky x Assistant!Fem!Reader)

Day 29: Gloryhole (Jim Hopper x Fem!Reader)

Day 30: Panty Raid/Panty Kink (Shy!Perv!Jake Jensen x Slight!Perv!Fem!Reader)

Day 31: Videoing (Camboy!Eddie Munson x Girlfriend!Fem!Reader)

59 notes · View notes

honkthehenry · 8 months

Text

unnamed slime game - part 1

Masterlist

The way you suddenly snapped into awareness without realizing you drifted off at all was something akin to having a bucket of ice-cold water thrown into your face.

You... dozed off in class again. In hindsight, it was inevitable – the last time you got hours of sleep instead of something in-between nothing at all and a 2-hour-nap was last Saturday. You've been running on nothing but bitter, cheap coffee and sheer spite for almost a week now, it was high time you finally crashed.

Still, you should have woken up at Uni. You should have woken up to your professor huffing and puffing and glowering in your face about your terrible conduct, about how your generation had no respect for his generation, about how such a complicated and beautiful science like Robotics was not a place for slackers like you (which, fair, you had no idea what you were doing in Robotics either), not... alone and certaintly not in the middle of a forest.

You ran through a bunch of scenarios quickly, but none stuck.

Kidnapping? Far-fetched at best. You lived alone, only barely making ends meet by running yourself into the ground as you tried to marry working retail with being a full-time student, so ransom was out of the question and being kidnapped for the sake of doing bad things to you... Why bother? You didn't know anyone nearly well enough to be kidnapped due to personal feelings and you were neither good-looking enough (perpetually tired goblin that you were) nor famous-, connected- or skilled enough to be kidnapped randomly.

Besides, you were at the University, on the 5th floor, in the middle of the city that had no forests for miles! You were surrounded by 20-odd other people, there was no way someone would be able to kidnap you with so many witnesses around.

So, not kidnapping.

Dream then?

Also unlikely. Your dreams were few and far-between and when they did happen, it was either you being surrounded by characters from the show you happened to be fixated on at the time or it was you getting repeatedly chased and swallowed whole by a dinosaur on a loop, until the dream finally ended (probably Jurasic Park childhood trauma, now that you thought about it).

Still.

This was so weird, because you knew for a fact you were much too aware of everything to be dreaming and yet the things you saw didn't makes sense at all!

You didn't have any arms for one!

And your body was purple!

You could feel electricity zapping at your body and it didn't hurt, it was more like being swallowed in a blanket burrito and nursing a comforting mug of hot chocolate, while watching your favourite show with no worry for deadlines or money!

You weren't supposed to feel like that, you were supposed to be tired and grumpy and irritable and not nice and not toasty and certaintly not so comfortable!

Drugs? Hallucinations? You never partaked, you didn't drink alcohol either, so that was a no—

—A purple crystal you were under zapped at you again and you positively melted on the spot, basking in the feeling and letting the troublesome train of thought go like the wind, before it inevitably derailed and caused you undue anxiety as it always did.

...it was very nice actually.

Maybe losing opposable thumbs wasn't so bad if you got this in exchange.

You could live like this.

×•×•×•× Honk!!! Corner ×•×•×•×

You know that one post lurking on Tumblr where OP is turned into a frog by a witch as revenge? And just vibes? Basks in the sun without worrying about life? This is MC now.

I don't care how long or how short chapters are, they're just gonna vibe as they are because I am a goblin with a short attention span and no actual ability to write.

Something to get you thinking - MC is an electro slime for a reason and that reason is electro immunity.

I wonder why?

*smiling like a particularly smug cat*

Did I mention I can't draw lightning/electricity? Because I can't, so I didn't.

Also fvck me, my tags didn't saveeeeee 😭

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact sagau #genshin sagau #sagau x reader #sagau #except sagau part is slow burn #isekai #genshin isekai #x reader #x gn reader #x gender neutral reader #x gn y/n #x y/n #x you #electro slime mc #slime mc #unnamed slime game

289 notes · View notes

georgiapeach30513 · 1 year

Text

Kinktober 2023, Day 5

We Don't Need No Thought Control

Summary: Ransom could always block out others thoughts. It never bothered him. Never was an issue until you. A student that not only tested his nerves daily, but one that had the most salacious thoughts in her head. If you wanted to be used so much, you could just say it out loud. He definitely gets off on punishing you. It’s what you deserve.

Pairings: Ransom Drysdale X Reader

Rating: explicit

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content, mind reading, teasing, female masturbation in public, degradation, age gap, teacher/student, mentions multiple of multiple partners, bondage, unprotected sex, PIV sex, blindfold, creampie, implied snowballing, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 1.9K

Series Masterlist

Ransom looks back out to the class, trying to skip over your face. Why were your thoughts so loud? It was a burden hearing people’s voices, but yours were screaming. You weren’t paying attention to anything he was teaching, but your thoughts were on him. Little minx.

You were about as filthy as the books you always had with you. Your brand of porn. Age gaps and professors, and he was your current fantasy. How you needed life to imitate art. The scenarios you thought had him wanting to sin and go against his moral code. On the outside you looked like this sweet and innocent young lady. On the inside you were so fucking deviant. You wanted to be used.

You wanted not just Ransom to use you, but to bring in Ransom’s friends, while you sweetly cooed, “Yes, Professor Drysdale,” just before your mouth was stuffed full of cock.

Filthy. Disgusting. And Ransom wanted your body sticky with sweat and dripping his cum. If you wanted to be a slut, he could make you be his slut. Especially since you wanted to scream your dirty thoughts so loud. He can’t even fucking focus.

Sitting in the front row with your legs spread. Your barely there panties, showing off more of your pussy lips than not. God, he wanted to taste you. He wanted to feel your silky skin wrapped around his length. Needed to hear your sweet little whimpers as you took his cock like a good girl. Biting at your lip and furrowing your brow at how hard and deep he was pounding in you.

“Professor Drysdale?” If the sounds you were making in your head were anything like the real thing, he was going to enjoy making sure you got an A on the next assignment.

“Professor Drysdale?” You wanted to be used and degraded. Your body would be his to destroy. Ruin you. Have you under his desk during class, and choking on his cock, while your desperate little body grinds on his foot.

“Professor Drysdale!”

“What?” Ransom slams his book down on the desk, his eyes roaming around the class before landing on you. Fucking bitch. You smirk at him, spreading your legs further. Your hand drifts in between your thighs, and you move aside your panties. Your cunt leaks out onto the seat, and an audible growl exits his mouth. Slut. You’ll pay for that.

“Are you going to give us the assignment for the weekend?”

“Fuck,” he whispers under his breath as he shuffles around on his desk. Your mind was blaring your mewling voice. Your tits bouncing around as he pounds into you. Why were you so vivid with details? And why the fuck were you really in front of him slipping a finger inside of yourself. Pulling it out so he can see how slick and sticky your honey is.

“Just have fun jacking off. Um…riding the…get out of my classroom,” he turns around facing the wall while everyone leaves. He doesn’t have to turn back around to know that you were still there. A thought that you hoped he would lock the door paints into his mind. You are communicating with him. He does.

“Professor Drysdale, won’t you look at me?”

“You’re going to get me in trouble,” he answers honestly. Still refusing to turn around. You needed his attention.

“Only if we get caught,” he still doesn’t turn around, but he hears the loud squelching sounds your fingers make with every stab into you that you make. “I’m so wet right now. You can do whatever you want, professor. I’m your student. Teach me.”

“Fuck you,” he groans. His cock strains the material of his pants, and he wants to bend you over and drive himself so deep into you that you see stars. Spanking your ass for good measure. Hoping that you understand you can not be giving him so much grief during class.

“You can fuck me if you want. I’ll be your good student. Don't you want to mold me to your fat cock? I see your thoughts, sir. I know you want your cock in every hole. I know that you want your friends to watch as I take you like a good girl.”

“Those are your thoughts,” he finally turns to look at you, and you are bouncing on your own fingers. Giving him a show of your cunt swallowing every inch of your knuckles. Your pussy was wrapped tight around your fingers, and he knows it is going to hurt. He wanted it to. You were being a bad girl.

“Punish me then. I am a dirty little slut whore, and you need to punish me.”

“These are your thoughts,” he tells himself more than you. He’s unsure. Had these been his thoughts all along?

“Are they? You had them first. I just added to them. Made them more colorful. Professor, I want you to use every inch and every hole. Mmm, I’m almost there,” you whine, your fingers getting soaked with your juices. “I’m going to come. Professor, I’m…”

“Don’t come,” annoyed, you stop your movements, and sit still watching him. “Not here. I’m going to text you the address to my house, along with my code to get in, and I want you sprawled out on my bed. If you want me to use you, I’ll use you. You might want to rethink this now. Do you want to be fully taken down into my depravity?”

“Yes,” why would you not? Professor Drysdale looks as if he was carved by the gods themselves. He is the reason you had all these thoughts. They kept you up so late at night, and no matter what you did, it was never enough. You need him.

“You want me to have you tied up to where you have no say what gets done to you, because it’s not about your pleasure, it’s about mine. I’ll have you edged so many times you’re going to beg to come on my cock. Have tears rolling down your eyes. I’ll have you so fucked up and sore, you won’t be able to fill my head with your disgusting thoughts. I’ll just know how sore that tight cunt is. Are you ready for that?”

“Yes.”

——

Professor Drysdale starts circling around you. Asshole had put a blindfold on you, and you couldn’t see what he was doing. All you can do is envision how he was looking at you. He had you all tied up, and unable to move.

“Professor?”

“Mmm,” his finger runs up the gusset of your ruined panties before skimming back down, “Why do you wear these panties?”

“I want you to look,” you tease. Letting your mouth turn up into a devilish grin.

“Oh, I’ve looked. And you’re a fucking disgusting little slut. You just want me to use you?” You nod your head, slowly starting to grind on the chair. “Needy little thing. Which other professors do you let see you desperate like this?”

“Does it bother you? Thinking about your colleagues staring at my dripping cunt? Leaving my chair soaked, and they go back to lick it. Locking their door to stroke their cock thinking about fucking me on their desk?” You paint a filthy picture. He knew they all had thought about you. He could see their thoughts of teaching class while they rail into you. But to hear you so confidently tell him that you knew about their thoughts pissed him the fuck off

“You vicious little bitch,” his hand slaps over your cunt, and then he pushes you back on the bed. Ripping off your panties. “Clenching around nothing. When was the last time you were fucked?”

“Professor Winchester bent me over his desk last week. He wasn’t a fucking pussy.”

“Bitch,” he growls, yanking you down the bed, and his fat cock slams into you. Giving you no time to adjust to his width. Just starts pounding into you. Hard and angry because his jealousy was getting the best of him. You could tell it would.

Ransom was your typical only child. Bred to get everything he wanted, and what he wanted was you to control. To own. To show off to his friends that you begged him every night to do whatever he wanted. You might be learning something from his Lit class, but were learning more about taking his cock like a good girl.

You are so responsive to him. Whimpering, and praising him. Feeding his ego just like he was feeding your cunt. Watching your body suck him back in, and you wrapped around so tightly, not wanting to let him go that he’s ready to blow his load right then and there.

He can’t. But he also has no intentions to stop fucking you. It’s your punishment for pushing those thoughts into his head. He would make sure all of your darkest fantasies came true. Starting right now. This was only the beginning. His good little whore. He didn’t mind sharing, but you were his. And you could only fuck who he said. And he would watch every single fucking time.

“Whose slut are you?” His hand slides up your body, and he wraps his fingers around your throat. “Who’s slut?”

“Yours,” you weakly get out. He feels too good. He was hitting every spot inside of you. Your backside was soaked with your juices. Ransom seemed to get a high on how wet and messy you were alone. “I’m your slut!”

“Exactly. You better remember that,” he says, jerking off your blindfold. You blink away the stars in your eyes. Both from Ransom’s motions, and the assault of light to your eyes have you blind.

“Aww, you sure you don’t want to be all of ours?”

“NO!” Ransom grunts as he spears into you harder. Deeper.

“But ‘Professor’,” someone’s voice goes up an octave, impersonating you. “She needs to have her core classes taught, huh?”

“Professor Barnes?” Anatomy. “Oh, god,” your eyes roll into the back of your head. Your cunt was loud. And the other three men crowd around to watch. Or wait their turn, who knew anymore.

“Hands off!” Ransom smacks at another’s hand as he tries to pinch your nipple. “I am the one to control her!”

“Why you?” There were so many of them. You couldn’t keep up. Why was your math teacher here?

“Because she has the nastiest thoughts about me!” His head tilts back to the ceiling while he pounds into you. Your body was going to be bruised from the inside out. Unable to grab onto anything, you just scream out in pleasure. Your walls clenching down around him right as he spurts his thick cream into your womb.

“If you want her,” he pants, stepping back from you. All of them watch in awe as Ransom’s cream seeps out. “Clean her up. Sweetheart, meet your teachers; Barnes, Winchester, and Miller. I know several others are curious. But who do you belong to?”

“You,” you whimper, watching three men sink to their knees, ready to clean Ransom’s spunk out of you. “I belong to professor Drysdale.”

“Of course you do. No fucking unless I’m around, okay?”

“Okay, professor,” you whine as three mouths fight for a taste of your cunt. Kissing and nipping on your thighs. Sucking on your sensitive pearl. Lapping up every ounce of yours and Ransom’s juices.

“This is going to be a long weekend, Minx. But let us teach you a few things. You just take what’s given to you.”

“Yes, professor. I’ll take it. Just own me,” and they would. They would own and destroy each and every one of your holes. They are going to have you sticky with sweat and cum, and you are going to take whatever they give you. Whenever they wanted. But you would always belong to Ransom.

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @sstan-hoe @missusbarnes-rogers @seitmai @smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @midnightramyeoncravings @kmc1989 @floral-recs @buckybarnesisdaddy @magnificentsaladllama

#kinktober #kinktober 2023 #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x fem!reader #ransom drysdale x y/n #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale smut #ransom drysdale fanfiction #ransom drysdale fanfic #ransom drysdale fic #ransom drysdale fics #knives out #chris evans #chris evans character

340 notes · View notes

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 year

Text

Prerequisite

Masterlist

Warnings: this fic includes dark content including rape/noncon, power imbalance, blackmail, and other potential triggering elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

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

Summary: You attempt to move on from your time with Professor Hansen, but can't seem to shake the past.. (plus sized reader)

Characters: Ransom Drysdale, some Lloyd Hansen

A note on reader characters:

For clarity, each reader will have a defined nickname when appearing in any installment not their own. This is Flora, previously featured in Below Average. This fic also features characters from various installments.

Note: Finally got this on paper.

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

Love you all like Donkey love Waffles. Take care. 💖

You cross your arms as you narrow your eyes at the front of the lecture hall. It's your last choice in elective but the only one you could get to pad out your schedule. Law. Hardly riveting stuff.

What's more intriguing is the professor. No, no, you haven't acquired a taste for them, if anything Hansen taught you to be wary of them. The very lesson that has you glaring down at Professor Barber, waiting for his first slip.

You're not clever by any means, you're just the only one looking for the signs. The same ones you saw in Tweed at your first meeting, those that you catch in yourself, and the other girls who won't say the truth aloud.

Brownie, that's the one. You see the way he looks at her and you note how she stays after class, every week. Only three weeks so far but a pattern is a pattern.

You twist your pen, the nib poking out, then do it again, retracting it. The clicking noise forms a tempo at your listless fidgeting. You have a study date tonight with the girls, what’s one more? You’re forming a habit of taking on lost souls, yourself just another wisp floating in the void.

You scribble down the date for your next quiz, your mind hardly processing the words as you guide the pen. You’re trying to plot your approach. You think you have an idea.

As Professor Barber dismisses class, you slide your notebook into your bag and hike it up onto your shoulder. At the edge of the row, as usual, you quickly descend as Brownie stays in her seat, waiting and watching her feet. You catch the small glances aimed in her direction from the man behind the podium.

You take out your phone and quickly text Cookie; ‘you got room for one more?’

You don’t wait for an answer. You don’t care. You’ve made up your mind, it’s a warning, not a question.

“Hey,” you come around the front row. The girl doesn’t seem to hear you. Or she’s ignoring you, “um, Brownie?”

She looks up, startled. She sends a look towards Barber but you ignore him. You cross your arms and sway, your skirt stirring around your legs.

“Remember me?” You ask, “you lent me your pen?”

“Oh, uh, I remember,” she squeaks, her voice thin and raw, as if she never uses it, “hi.”

“Um, so,” you try to sound casual, “I’m not really a law student. English,” you touch your chest and smile, “and I think I could use a study buddy, if you’re interested?”

“Er, oh?” Her brows draw together, “I don’t know…” she scratches her neck, another peek at the professor, “I–”

“Do you have plans? Or maybe you already have someone to study with,” you look away and frown, “sorry, I just figured I’d ask. I need someone to help me make sense of all this. I’m totally lost.”

There’s a subtle rumble, a noise you likely wouldn’t notice if you didn’t know to listen for it. You don’t even glance back at Barber as you hear him packing up. You sit in the chair next to Brownie and smile.

“I just figured you’re like, the smartest person in the class, and I need this grade to bring my average up. Please?”

She chews her lip and plays with the high collar of her turtleneck. She hides beneath her lashes, shrugging before she manages a tiny nod. Her fingers flutter and she shivers nervously.

“I can help,” she presses her fingers to the ribbed fabric of her shirt, “sure, I…”

“Me and my friends are meeting tonight, we’re getting pizza,” you chirp, “wanna tag along?”

“Friends?” She bats her eyes at you frightfully.

“Oh, don’t worry, they’re all super friendly and they’ll love you.”

“I… I don’t know. I’m not very…” she speaks so quietly you have to lean in to hear her.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to say much,” you assure her, “Cookie always bakes way too many brownies. You could help us finish them, huh?”

She looks terrified. Her mouth scrunches and shifts back and forth as she measures her options. You know exactly what she’s thinking. That man will be disappointed. Well, let him be. Unless he wants to step forward and admit that he’s fucking a goddamn student.

“Hm, okay, but… just for a little. I can’t stay very long.”

“Just until I figure out what actus reus means, alright?” You stand and send a sharp look towards the professor. He quickly dips his chin down in feigned concentration as he looks over his notes. Not today, fucker.

“Okay,” she gets up and lifts a crochet bag, her hand shaking as she tucks away her laptop in the slouchy purse, “um, I’m sorry, but… I forgot your name.”

“Don’t be sorry,” you wait for her to pass you before walking at her side towards the door. She’s still hesitant and reluctant as she looks over her shoulder, “Flora.”

💮

“This is Brownie,” you introduce the mousy addition to the girls as she tries to fade into the blue wall, “she’s in my law class.”

She doesn’t move. She just looks up with round eyes as the others cheerily call out their welcome, already clustered around the table amid coffee cups, laptops, and a few baked goods. The scent of cinnamon mingles with the stale caffeine.

“Welcome, Brownie,” Muse gives both of you a start as she appears at the girl’s other shoulder, “I’m Muse! Oh, you have wise eyes.” She flutters around the girl, a boa around her shoulders, “you would look wonderful in jade. Yes, it would highlight your undertones.”

Brownie frowns and mutters, but you can’t tell if it's a thank you or just a whimper.

“She says I’m a sapphire type,” you remark as you wave her away from the door, “you can toss your coat with ours,” you motion to the bench bench piled with outerwear, “then I’ll introduce you to the rest… they’re not as bouncy as Muse.”

Brownie gives up her dark gray coat and steps out of her plain boots. She dresses in a very simple way. Turtle necks, corduroys, nothing with much shape or structure. Her style can be best described as part of the wall.

“So,” you walk just ahead of her. She stays behind you as if trying to hide, “Tweed, Foxy, Sunny,” you point out the three girls at the table, “you met Muse,” you look at the artsy wraith fluttering around the counter, “and Cookie, our host.”

The woman in question puts down a plate of sugar cookies, “hi, nice to meet you! I’ll find an extra chair.”

Brownie doesn’t say a word. You realise it might be a bit overwhelming. She reminds you of Tweed in that way. You point her to a chair and assure her you’ll take whatever Cookie comes up with. She sits, hugging her bag in her lap as she stares at the table.

Foxy gets up as you head for the counter, you pause and look back at Brownie, “you want some tea? Something to drink?”

She chews her lip before she answers, “water, please, if that’s okay.”

You nod and go to the cupboard. Foxy comes up next to you and leans on the counter as you shift to pull out the water jug from the fridge. You come back to her as she keeps her voice low.

“What’s up with that one?”

“Law professor, I think,” you mutter, “could barely get her here.”

“Fuck, another one, huh?”

“Uh, yeah, you know, shitty men everywhere,” you fill the glass, “I brought her here to try to forget all that. Like the rest of us.”

“Sure thing,” she taps the countertop with her nails and pushes off.

You put the jug back and take the water over to Brownie as Cookie emerges with a small white stool. You accept it, the seat lower than the rest so that you feel like a kid at the table. You pull out your laptop and open it up. Your phone slides out with it and you catch it as notifications flash on the screen.

You tap your thumb to expand the preview; Insta, emails, and a text that neither surprises or interests you. Professor Dillhole’s message is swiped away without reading a single word. You got your grade and now you’re done with him. He doesn’t seem to get the hint.

“So, Brownie, you’re in law? Are you going to be a lawyer?” Foxy asks.

Brownie shrugs and nods. You wonder for a moment how she’ll manage a courtroom when she can barely give a vocal answer. Well, she has lots of time to figure that out.

“That’s really cool,” you say, “you know, I don’t have the mind for all that. I can’t really sort out one act from the rest. I’m more into bigger narratives than the tiny details.”

She looks at you, still hugging her bag. She’s ready to leave at any moment.

“Why don’t you stay a while?” You poke her bag, “how about we compare notes? I’m sure I missed all the important stuff. This tort gibberish is doing my head in.”

She puts her chin down and slowly lifts the flap of her bag. She slides out her laptop and gently lowers the bag between her feet. She opens the lid, almost reluctant, and her desktop comes to life. You see the email in the corner right before the notif flicks away. A.Barber… Mmm.

For a moment, you feel a pang of guilt. You hope your impromptu invitation doesn’t cost her anything. That he doesn’t hold it against her. You should’ve thought of that sooner.

“Let me find…” she trails off, her finger running over the trackpad.

You wait patiently. No, you don’t feel bad. She deserves this. Like the rest of you, she needs a place to get away. Just a single space where she doesn’t have to be crushed under his thumb.

💮

You sit outside of Dean Drysdale’s office. His secretary types away at her keyboard and you twirl your phone in your grip. It’s mostly a paperweight these days as you ignore almost every message that comes in. Blocking didn’t work on that jag off.

You jiggle your foot anxiously. This meeting is important. You really need this scholarship and through the grace of your hard work, and the regrettable cooperation of a particular professor, you’ve met all the requirements. The last piece, an interview with the dean.

The clock ticks, drawing your attention in the stagnant office. It’s five after. The dean is running late. That doesn’t really matter, he can do whatever he wants. But you’re early and that can only help in his consideration.

You hear muffled voices near the other side of the door. Shadows darken the frosted glass emblazoned with the dean’s name and credentials. You sit up straight but try not to look too eager. The door opens and your heart falls into your ass. Fuck, not this guy.

“Friday,” Dean Drysdale claps Lloyd’s back as they emerge from the office.

“Can’t wait,” Lloyd returns but his eyes are on you, “ah, sorry,” he says to you, “didn’t mean to keep him so late.”

“No problem, professor,” you stand and grip the strap of your bag, masking your disgust with a smile, “Dean Drysdale,” you greet the other man, “nice to meet you. I’m Flora.”

“The one and only,” he doesn’t offer his hand, “looks like you’re running behind so better get started.” He points you into his office, “later, Hansen.”

He tosses the last remark over his shoulder as he turns to follow you through the door. You enter and hover across from his desk. You hate to be presumptuous. He shuts the door with a click.

“Sit,” he orders tersely as he rounds the desk and falls heavy into the leather chair.

You lower yourself. Your nerves are wily, especially after seeing Professor Hansen. You had no idea he was close with the dean.

“Hansen speaks highly of you,” he begins, “as do the rest of your professors.”

“Oh, I, that’s great.”

“So, I have thirty candidates. Why should I choose you?” He leans back, elbow on the armrest, posture nonchalant as he swivels.

“Um, well, I work hard. I keep my average up where it needs to be. I have gotten involved in quite a few extracurriculars, I helped with the library bakesale and–”

“Boring. Got it. That’s all in your application,” he dismisses, “just like all the other ones. Bunch of filler. But why you?”

You’re speechless. You prepared for this but you feel as if you fell into this from thin air. You don’t know what he wants to hear.

“How many parties have you been to?” He asks suddenly.

“What?” You can’t help your surprise.

“Come on. You’re a young coed. I know how it is. So, let’s narrow it down. Fall term, how many?”

You squint and look at the wall, thinking. You’re not much of a partier. You twiddle your fingers and count in your head.

“Four, maybe,” you push your shoulders up. “I don’t really… I mostly just spend my spare time with my friends–”

“Are they hot?” He chuckles and sits up, your mouth falling open. “Relax, I hate these things. So uptight,” he rolls his shoulders as he wheels closer to the desk and plants his elbows, “at least you're honest. The last six freshmen that sat there insisted on a big O. Think they would see the plaque and realise I’m not stupid.”

“Well, I… yeah,” you chew on the tip of your tongue. You really don’t know how to proceed. “I brought a portfolio of my essays–”

“No time for that,” he waves his hand at you, “think I got the picture.”

“Oh,” you frown.

He stares at you, poking his cheek with his tongue as his brows draw together. He hums and sits back, once more swiveling back and forth. He tilts his head and clucks.

“You’ll hear from my secretary,” he declares at last.

“That’s it?” You gulp.

“Yeah, whatever, I got about five more of these today and I need a fucking coffee,” he lifts his feet onto his desk. “Be a doll and send in Sienna when you leave.”

“Um, okay,” you stand slowly, “thanks for your time.”

He doesn’t respond as he takes out his phone. You hide your unease and leave. As you emerge you see the name card on the secretary’s desk. Sienna.

“Er, he told me to send you in,” you approach.

She looks up at you and snaps her gum, “great.”

She gets up as she rolls her eyes and you swiftly march past the desk. You don’t understand what just happened. Did you fuck it up? What did Hansen say? Oh my fucking good, you swear if he–

Your thoughts race ahead of your feet as they carry you without intention. You find yourself in the stairwell, stunned and confused. You turn down the first flight only to dodge out of the way of a figure coming up. You yipe as you find yourself shoved into the corner, Lloyd’s arms outstretched to pen you in.

His hands brace the painted brick as he smirks down at you, “hey, sweet cheeks, long time, no suck.”

You curl your lip at him and snarl, “get away from me.”

You shove on his chest and he retracts his hands, grabbing your wrists. You struggle with him but he easily pushes your hands up, pinning them to the wall. He leers as looms in front of you, his eyes scanning down your body.

“Damn, I forgot how good you look in those skirts. Panties or nah?”

“Fuck off–”

“Always looked better around your waist–”

“I said get the fuck off of me. I’ll scream–”

“I’d love to hear it,” he snickers, “what happened to us, flower? We were doing great. Living life, fucking hard.”

“You’re an animal–”

“We had a good thing, the whole professor-with-benefits gig worked for us, didn’t it? It sure as hell loosened you up. Look at you, all wound tight–”

You snap your teeth at him and he recoils, barely saving his nose from the chomp. He cackles and keeps you trapped, squeezing your wrists tighter. His laughter rolls out to a growl.

“You know, if you get that scholarship, they need two professor’s to sign off on it… but you know, I don’t just put my name on anything–”

“You’re pathetic.”

“I fucking am when I got blue balls, honey,” he scoffs, “just touch em. A little bit.”

You grit your teeth and throw your knee up. You yank your hands free and shoulder past Lloyd as he bends and grips his crotch. He chokes on his breath as he leans against the wall. You bluster away as quickly as you can.

“Not like that,” he gurgles as you charge down the stairs, dizzy as you turn down the next flight.

So much for that scholarship.

💮

You stare at the C circled in red on your last quiz. Law isn’t your forte, that’s clear. Your GPA and hopes for that scholarship are dwindling in that simple little letter. You look up at the front of the lecture hall as Professor Barber reclaims the podium, preparing to take up the answers as he does every other week.

You sit closer than before. You’re always sure to take the seat next to Brownie and she has yet to tell you to stop. Something about her though suggests that she won’t ever do that. No has been erased from her vocabulary.

You don’t miss the Professor’s eyes as they flit up to your study buddy but quickly meet your own. He darts them away, caught. You wonder, however, if your middling grade has something to do with that. Oh well, you won’t regret doing the right thing.

As you open your laptop, an email pops up in the corner. ‘On Behalf of Dean R. Drysdale’. You click on it before you can stop yourself. You’re holding your breath. You read it slowly.

‘Schedule a follow up for the dean’s decision’.

What? That’s not an answer. Fuck. Why can’t they just put it right there? Yes or no. You have to stop yourself from slamming your laptop shut. You grab your quiz and rest it over your keyboard. You look over at Brownie, she stares at the paper in her hand. She got an A, as always.

“Good job,” you whisper.

“Mmm, yeah,” she returns as she drops the quiz onto her folding desk. “He’s a good teacher…”

“Sure,” you accept dryly.

She glances at you but says nothing. You hate to be sharp with her but it’s pretty obvious what’s going on. You’re just smart enough to know to be cautious. You can only be there for her when she needs you. It would be too risky to do anything else. And not fair to Brownie, that man could destroy her career. You’ve been her, you just hope she finds her way out.

“Alright, let’s get started,” Barber calls out, quieting the class, “it seems we need a lot of review on case law.”

💮

The hour is unexpected but you don’t think much of it. A dean is busier than most and you can’t help but imagine that Drysdale is even less elated to be meeting at such an off-time. Seven in the evening on a Friday is prime time, even for those outside the coed population.

You show up to an empty office. Sienna is gone, the place desolate. The vibe is off. Something about it reminds you of another meeting. No, this isn’t Hansen. Still, you’re on edge, vigilant as you approach the dean’s door, an amber glow through the frosted glass.

You knock and cross one arm over your chest, clutching your upper arm. You sway as you wait. Deja vu paralyses you on the spot. It can’t be. It can’t happen twice. This is about the scholarship.

The door opens and Drysdale steps back as he gives a flippant greeting, “come in.”

He has a glass in hand, a dark brown liquid in marbled crystal. He sips as the door falls open. You step inside and look around the office, the framed degree behind his chair and the several photographs placed around them; a previous dean with his imperious features, and a large house with a rustic landscape crowded around it. You hover at the threshold.

“Close the door,” he sits heavily, “these old buildings are drafty as–” he stops himself and smirks.

He drains the last of his drink, liquor by your measure, and puts it on the marble coaster. You shut the door and sit, just like last time. You can’t help but be slightly irked to think he brought you all the way here to issue you a rejection.

“So, top three,” he points a finger gun at you as he slumps in the same lackadaisical way, “Flora… you’re a star. Shining reviews. Can’t say my professors ever said anything nice about me but you… you even got Hansen singing your praises.”

“Oh,” you utter.

“I’ve known him a while. We were in the same frat, you know? He was a senior when I was a freshman, hazed me real good but look how things turned out,” he leans an elbow on the armrest and cradles his chin. He watches you. “All these years and I never heard him say anything nice about a fucking student.”

You’re put off by the obscenity. Further, upended by his history with Lloyd. What does that have to do with anything?

“You know, he’s all about self-discipline but you get a few scotches down his gullet and he’s like an open book. Also…” he raises a finger, “leaves his phone unlocked.”

You try not to let that suspicion turn to panic. He can’t know. Even if he did, it’s not your fault. He should be talking with Hansen, not you. He’s the one abusing his position.

“You let him fuck you in his car,” he sits up and laughs, his hand on his stomach, “looking at you, I never would’ve guessed.”

“What? How–”

“I mean, he was hitting it from quite the angle so I don’t blame you for not noticing the phone in his front pocket…”

“No.”

“Yes,” he cackles. “Listen, sweetie, it’s not the first time it’s happened. Some girls just don’t have anything else to offer, so who am I to be mad if they use what they got.”

“I’m not– I’m not like that. He made me–”

“Oh, I’m sure the promise of an A plus helped,” he scoffs as he lets his hand drift down his stomach, “so what can a scholarship get me?”

He gropes himself through his russet coloured pants. Your throat constricts as you clutch your purse tight in your lap. You’re rigid, alight in horror and shame. Of course Lloyd didn’t walk away without something.

“I’ve waited twenty years for this,” he plants his feet.

“No, I’m not– I’m not doing this again.”

You stand and Drysdale rips his hand away from his crotch, snapping his fingers, “with that video, I could take you to the review board and have you kicked out. Not only that, all your credits would be invalidated.”

You swallow and wince. No, this can’t be happening. Again. You’re stronger than this. You’re worth more than these men’s dicks.

“So, sweetie pie,” he reaches forward and takes his phone off his desk, “we’re gonna make a nice little video for Hansen and show him how it’s really done.”

You shudder and hug yourself, “I…” your throat is dry, your heart hollow. What other choice do you have? You’ll lose everything. “I’ll do it, but no video. Please.”

“My rules. I am the dean and you are… the slutty coed.” He tuts, “mmm, classic Pornhub fodder.” He taps the screen of his phone, “let’s go. Get your clothes off.”

He aims the lens at you. You look at the floor. You can’t move.

“Please, turn it off.”

“Get your fucking clothes off,” he repeats, “I want to remind that fuckface what he’s missing out on.”

You dig your nails into the back of your arms then let go. You keep your head down as you lift the strap of your purse over your head and throw it in the chair behind you. You unzip your coat and shrug it off. The room rings in your ear and blurs in your vision. Your breaths are shallow and painful. Your skin is buzzing.

Your coat falls and you pull down the straps of the denim dress you wear over a flowered blouse. You shimmy it past your waist and peek up for just a minute. Drysdale bites his thumb as he records you.

You quickly tear away your gaze and continue. You unbutton the blouse and turn as you fight to free your wrists from the cuffs. Goosebumps speckle over your skin. You close your eyes and ball your hands before pushing your fingers wide. You touch the top of your stockings.

“You can leave those on, cheeks.”

You gulp and retract your hands. You pause and turn back to face the desk.

“Tits out, ass out, go on.”

No wonder he’s tight with Lloyd. Birds of a feather. You reach back to undo your bra and sling it onto the chair. You hook your thumbs in your panties and step out of them.

“I always liked an extra helping,” Drysdale taunts, “her cups overfloweth… is that Shakespeare?”

You don’t answer. You fight the urge to hide behind your arms. You raise your head. You have a morsel of dignity left in you.

“Come here,” he demands, “I wanna fuck those tits.”

You cringe but obey. If Lloyd taught you anything it was to just get it over with. You round the desk as he opens his fly. He pulls himself out above the zipper, playing with himself, rolling his thumb over his tip as he growls.

“Knees, baby, I’m sure you know the drill,” he snickers. You get down as he wiggles his dick in your direction, “push those things together.” You grab your chest and smush it together. He taps your tits with his tip and laughs, enjoying his mocking.

He guides himself down under your tits and slides between. He cups a hand around yours as he refocuses the phone on you. He rocks the chair back, moving his pelvis as he slowly starts to thrust. He groans at the friction. You clench your jaw tight, dreaming of biting off the end of his overinflated worm.

His breath hitches as he fucks faster, the bottom of his wolly sweater rolling up his muscles stomach. You could just punch him right there. You could grab him by his balls and twist. No, that would only assure you of your scholarly doom.

“Look at me,” he demands.

You snap your eyes open as he shoves the phone in your face. You shy away but he keeps fucking, turning the lens down towards your tits. He gives a breathy laugh and it trickles into a moan. Weak and pathetic.

“Shit, yeah, that’s good,” he groans, “give it a kiss, baby.”

You grit back your disgust. You bend your neck and kiss his tip as it pokes through.

“With tongue.”

You force your tongue out as his tip pops up again and you swirl around it, planting a sloppy kiss on the salty flesh. He twitches and hisses. He pulls his hand away from yours and grips the chair.

“That’s good, get up,” he snarls, “turn around.”

You suck in a chestful of air and do as he says. You get to your feet and turn away. He grabs your hips and rolls closer.

“Bend over.”

You bend and rest your elbows on the edge of the desk. He angles you down into his lap, your body stretched between the two. He rubs his dick against your ass, once more tapping. He kneads the flesh. You shake your head as he tilts you further down.

He prods at your cunt and you can’t help but clench. He pushes against your entrance, tight and burning as he grunts, bulling his way past the resistance with a slap against your thigh. He latches onto your hip and pulls you down another inch.

“It’s all you. You just gotta fuck that scholarship outta me.”

You bite your lip and force yourself to take him. You hip down until you reach your limit but before you can pull back up, he grabs on and holds you in place.

“More.”

You sink your teeth in deeper, urging yourself lower until it’s unbearable. You take him in fully and let out a shaky breath through your nose. You raise your ass as he lets you go. He lets out a raspy noise and you repeat the motion. You keep your motion mechanical and slow, trying to adjust.

“Faster. I wanna see you jiggle.”

You roll your eyes and claw at your arm, arms crossed over the desk as you rock your weight over him. The flesh claps loudly as his chair squeaks with each descent. He groans and gulps, hand wandering over your flesh, along your thighs, across your ass, up your back.

“Fuck, look at her go,” he snarks, “you work that dick. Just like that.”

You close your eyes and let the scowl mar your features. You speed up. He’s almost there. You can feel the tension, you can hear it in his voice.

“Ah,” he pinches you meanly, “stop!”

You try to keep going but he pushes you off of him. He growls and the chair jars as he sits up. You puff and peek around your shoulder at him.

“I’m cumming in your fucking mouth,” he cradles his balls, half-keeled over. “Open the fuck up before I blow–”

You get back to your knees and glare at him. You won’t falter. You have nothing over these men but that. You lean your head back and open your mouth. He lets himself go and holds the camera over you.

“Well, not gonna finish itself.”

You grab him, roughly, and he grunts. A warning. You ease up and stroke him, placing your mouth by his tip.

“Look into the camera, cheeks.”

You glare at the camera, you hope it can catch the sheer loathing radiating from you. You stroke him, squeezing harder and harder until he spasms and mewls. He spurts all over, missing your mouth and streaking up the bridge of your noises and across your brow, a few strings over your cheek.

He gasps and clings to the chair as if he might slip out of it, the camera drooping with his arm. You let him go and wipe your slimy hand. You stand and snatch a tissue from the box on his desk and wipe the mess from your face. His heavy breaths fill the silence.

“Can I go?” You ask flatly.

“I got nothing else for you,” he spits out.

You refuse to look at him as you dress. He chuckles. You fight not to turn around and throw every single thing on his desk at him. You hate him. You hate Lloyd. But more, you hate yourself.

“Congratulations,” he says as you pick up your purse, “did I mention, paperwork went through yesterday.”

You whip around and stare at him. You quake with anger, eyes hot with unspent tears.

“Hey, even I got deadlines. Had to make the call last week.”

You take a step back. What the fuck? You stumble away, ready to scream, ready to strangle this man. For now, you’ll settle for never having to see him again.

#ransom drysdale #dark ransom drysdale #dark!ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #au #series #campus au #multifandom #lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #the gray man #knives out

253 notes · View notes