#ransom drysdale x fem reader

[hanasnx]

“ FUCKIN’ ALL THE TIME IS WRONG WHEN YOU’RE NOT MINE, BABY ” — ransom drysdale.

MINORS DNI 18+ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ WARNINGS: fem readerノsexual content: p in vノunderage alcohol consumption mentionノtoxic relationshipノwas originally a self-insert ramble that i edited to 2nd pov mb if there r any remaining mistakes.

You’re always referred to as “like family” at these luxurious Drysdale gatherings you’re invited to over the years. You know RANSOM DRYSDALE is a trust fund brat with an ego but that doesn’t stop you from getting all hot when he’s giving you the eye during a family game night. You get on each other a little too much, there’s too much verbal teasing and taunting all in the name of friendly competition. It’s not game night for long, you both take up all the space in the room and soon everybody’s pushed out while they’re side-eyeing each other.

Every time you’re invited up you have to remind yourself he’s a piece of shit, part of a family you want nothing to do with—and yet here you are, hoping he’s coming to this one too. You let him talk you up and ask me what you’ve been up to. When he gets braver he dares lingering touches and bumps of the shoulder. He offers you a beer when you’re still technically underage for it, but he says, “C’mon. it’s inside the house.” with a little shrug. “Live a little.” You get lost in his eyes for a second.

It gets so bad that Meg knows he’s moving in on you, playing the “long game” because he knows you’re never gonna get over him. He’s toying with you, yanking your chain. She tells him he’s disgusting, the usual, and he tells her to die a virgin elsewhere, the usual. At one point the family catches you and him outside through the window where you’re talking and laughing… and he’s twirling you in a lazy casual dance. His dad, Richard, opens the door to the back porch to interrupt you, telling his Ransom to come inside and have a drink with his old man. Ransom glances over his shoulder at you to catch you biting your lip.

You just grew up around each other, saw each other every so often, but nothing really happens for most of it. Walt accuses him—just to get under his parents’ skin—of eye-fucking you every time you see each other, making everybody uncomfortable, they’ve gotta stop inviting you to things Ransom is going to. Peaceful and loving Jodi is so quick to object, “They just like each other! There’s nothing wrong with that… We all remember young love? Don’t we?” she laments loftily. Meanwhile “young love” is backshots in the backseat of his Beemer before you reenter the party.

It hardly ends there, but now you don’t need an excuse like a Drysdale affair to get together. The car was good place to get acquainted, but now you’re at his place. It’s a little more official—but it feels less official when he does you on every surface there. That cash his wealthy family gave him is thrown in the fire every time you two push a lamp off a nightstand or a centerpiece off a counter. Your reckless love-making causes vases to crash to the floor and curtains to be pulled down. He jokes, “I’m always looking to renovate.” while the memory of his dick bullying your insides five minutes ago is still ebbing and flowing in your memory.

“You know, I always thought you were cute.” he tells you in that husky voice that gets you weak in the knees, the breathless quality to it reminds you just how much he likes talking while he’s taking another tour up in your guts. “Little shy for my tastes, but cute.”

He’s baiting you, and the heel of your hand bangs against the meat of his rotator cuff, then your claws attach to it, internalizing the sharpness of the new angle when he shifts his hips a degree. “Oh, you like that, huh? Wanna know what else I thought?” he muses, and the crease between your brow deepens. The wet smack where your bodies conjoin gets a decibel louder while he quickens the pace, his hips bucking in his own anticipation to taunt you. Your legs suspended in air bob from the interaction, and you throw your head back to sink into the pillows. “You caught me off guard. That smile—mmm—that smile. Stopped me right in my tracks.” He blows a puff of air through his lips. “Whoo, I remember the first time I laid eyes on you from the back too.” He whistles. Now that earns him a real smack.

He snickers while you whine scoldingly, “Rans!”

“Perky little ass, knew I wanted it in my hands.” For emphasis, the palms under your backside to pick you up into his movements now squeeze. Your arch your back on instinct, as if trying to raise yourself out of his grip. It’s not possible while your legs are up in the air like a slut, taking what he’s giving to you.

Grinning, delighted, he watches you make a show of reluctantly hearing him, yet your hole’s getting slicker by the second. “Didn’t take you for a vain little thing, look at you. You’re getting all hot over this, I love it.”

[georgiapeach30513]

Let Your Daddy See

Summary: Your boyfriend, Ransom knew you had a crush on the owner of the local bakery. He sees you practically drooling as you watch his hands kneading dough. Always making excuses to go to Andy’s work during his demos. Getting all flustered when he smiles at you, even offering a private lesson…if you want Andy, you can have him. For one night. But it’s Ransom’s choice. Enjoy.

Pairings: Ransom Drysdale X Reader X Andy Barber

Rating: explicit

Warnings:  explicit language, explicit sexual content, teasing, dumb sex jokes, “surprises”, threesome, unprotected sex, PIV sex, anal sex, dumbification, degradation, double penetration, creampie, cameras, surprise! 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 3.7K

Ransom Drysdale Masterlist

Andy Barber Masterlist

You take a quick peek up, and are met with his beautiful blue eyes. Close enough to see the speckling of different hues of blue. His mouth turns up into a smile, and you quickly look back down at his hands. Pushing forward, and pulling back. His veins pop up on his arms and hands with the motion. Cords of his muscles ripple on his forearms. The man did more than bake pastries. He had to have a clear an amazing workout routine that you would love to sit and watch.

Since Andy had opened Butter & Buns you found every excuse to come here on a regular basis. It had nothing to do with Andy, but his goods, at least that’s what you told yourself. He honestly does make the most spectacular delicacies. And the way he runs his patisserie is so inviting. He had demos where he made the fresh breads right in front of you.

And he is even going to be starting classes. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t think about how he would teach. Would he be the type of man that stands behind you, hands on yours as he shows you how to properly make bread? Or would he be the teacher that stands in front of you while his eyes pay more attention to the curves of your body instead, and you learn nothing at all?

He told you about the classes first of course, letting you know you are his favorite customer. You gaze over his arms again as he pushes and pulls the dough. Developing the glutens, and mixing in the butter. It is heavenly to watch. A bit distracting, but only due to how effortlessly he did that. Like a skilled ballerina up on stage. It flows and has an odd beauty to it.

“Are you getting your usual, Sweet Buns?” a girlish giggle brushes past your lips, and the quick glance up at him sends heat to your cheeks. Andy has this way of making you feel like a schoolgirl. Even your hands are clammy, and your throat dries up. “Or can I suggest something different that I know you’re going to love?” You have to look at him, but this time he catches your eyes, and you linger the hold. You couldn’t look away.

“Yeah, of course,” your voice is a whisper as you nod your head, and switch the weight on your feet.

“Oh, give me a break,” Ransom rolls his eyes beside you, and you give him a little nudge with your shoulder. He is ruining this for you.

“Why don’t you grab our coffees, and I’ll get the treats?” He smirks, rolling his eyes again. It’s one of his favorite things to do, but he does walk away to go to the front of the counter, leaving you and Andy alone. “I’m sorry about him.”

“You’d think your husband wouldn’t come in with you if he’s so easily annoyed,” there’s a slight twinkle in Andy’s eye, but you can’t quite figure it out.

“We’re not married,” you answer quickly, showing him your bare finger. “Not even engaged. He’s…” Ransom peeks over towards you, pursing his lips, and narrowing his eyes before ordering the coffee. “What are you wanting to suggest to me?” Changing the subject off your relationship is the best course of action.

“I was playing around with croissant ideas. It’s not traditional, but it’s lemon meringue.”

“It sounds perfect,” almost as perfect as his ass walking to the sink to wash his hands. He meets you down at the register, handing over Ransom’s usual mini scones before giving you his newest creation. It looks amazing, and perfect. Just like him.

“I made this specifically with you in mind, Sweet Buns,” another giggle. You love that he remembers your first encounter with him, and it has since become your nickname. Your hand brushes against his as he hands you the receipt, and his eyes linger on you as you make way to Ransom.

“I made this specifically with you in mind, Sweet Buns,” he mocks what Andy says as you sit down across from him. “Why don’t you admit you got a crush on the baker.”

“I don’t, and he’s a pastry chef,” Ransom blinks at you a few times before taking a bite of your croissant. He doesn’t want to react, but he does. A soft little moan travels up his throat, and you shimmy your shoulders. “See.”

“You completely ignored what I just said,” of course you did. It’s a silly conversation that wasn’t going to get either of you anywhere.

“I ignored you because I don’t have a crush on Andy.”

“Ahh, you just want him to fuck your sweet buns, huh?” You give him a little kick under the table, smiling at him. It is fascinating to see him get a bit jealous. He knows who you go home to, and who you want to spend the rest of your life with. “If he gets your sweet buns, what do I get?”

“You can have the warm muffin.”

“I love it when you talk dirty. So I can have the warm muffin, he gets the sweet buns, what are we going to do with your mouth?” He raises his eyebrows in a suggestive way, and now it’s you that’s rolling your eyes.

“Shut up!” You playfully say, nudging your foot at him. “You know I love you, right?” Smiling, he nods his head, taking another bite of your pastry. Rude. “But I do quite enjoy your wheels turning. Are you seriously dreaming about him with us?” He shrugs his shoulders.

“Stop eating my food. That was made just for me.”

“Unless he’s got another sweet buns that he’s not telling you about,” you are his only Sweet Buns. Andy didn’t have others that he is like this with. You’ve watched him. “If we do this can I frost your muffin and turn it into a cupcake?” You burst out laughing, throwing your head back dramatically. He is silly, even if you love his play on words.

“What is wrong with you?” Or better yet, why did he have to wait to frost your cupcake?

“Or I can always call it a pie shell. Won’t you let me make a cream pie,” he’s saying words, and you’re not sure how serious he is. You’d let him if he’d ask.

“Alright, that’s enough. Let’s go home.”

“Maybe he can butter your buns,” he’s so obnoxious sometimes. “Knead your dough. Oh oh! Maybe frost your cake,” you give a quick little wave to Andy, trying to shoo Ransom out of the shop before Andy hears what he is saying. How embarrassing. Or maybe not.

——

“Ransom! Baby, I’m home,” throwing your keys into the bowl, you remove your shoes. Slowly undressing now because it is Friday, and you are tired of this bra. “Ransom?” You couldn’t smell any cooking, so you figured he must want to go out tonight, you’ll have to persuade him to order in. You just want him, the couch, and reruns.

“Ransom?” You say his name one more time as you pull your shirt over your head, and take off your bra. He’ll be happy to see your titties free. That’s how you make sure he just orders in, and you can stay with and watch television.

“Ransom? Oh my god!” Your arms fly over your chest as Andy smiles at you devilishly. “Why are you in my house, and in my fucking room?”

“It does look like a nice fucking…room,” creep. He was attractive in his place. Being alone in your house with you. And… “Ransom, she did make a great entrance,” your boyfriend steps out of the en-suite, and you look between the two of them. The little slut!

They are up to something, and you just want to rest. In between them. “What is this?”

“Angel,” uh uh. Anytime Ransom starts a sentence with that, he’s up to something. Needing you to forgive him immediately. And of course that makes sense since Andy Barber is in your bedroom with you and your boyfriend all while your arms are over your chest, covering yourself.

Rolling your eyes, you happen to catch a peek, and Andy is a full mast. Pants are completely tented, and you feel a rush of heat pool at your core. He’s as big as you imagined, bigger even. This is about that conversation you had Butter & Buns! Ransom brought this man here for a threesome, and both men are ready to go.

“I had some thoughts about our conversation the other day…”

“And I overheard everything,” oh my god! Andy overheard every stupid joking detail. This is too much. “And I approached Ransom.”

“No, you didn’t. I went back to the buttery buns, and approached you.”

“You stuttered, and couldn’t get the question out, so I proposed a deal. I get your ass, if you agree.”

“But I’m in control,” it is like watching a ping pong match as the two of them go back and forth. Each making sure you know that they’re more manly than the other with no regard of what you want. You didn’t ask for this. Ransom and Andy just assumed. They didn’t exactly assume wrong.

You have dreamed of this very moment. You didn’t want Andy in your life, you just wanted him in your body. Have a little fun with your boyfriend. He did say his fantasy was to watch you be destroyed before he joins in. Watch as your cunt is being refused stimulation, and he waits for you to beg before joining in. You just don’t beg. You never beg.

Okay, maybe you have dreamed about the man destroying you being Andy once or twice. But the principle of the matter is they didn’t ask. “Angel, if you didn’t want me to know that you have fantasized about this, maybe you shouldn’t leave your fucking journal open on the bed. With a very detailed explanation of what you want Mr. Butters and me to do to you.”

“You caught that, huh?” Ransom is far from being dumb, but sometimes he just needs a little nudging, especially since you found out that he wanted Andy to be the man that joined you. You gave him a little hint by leaving your journal on his side of the bed.

“You made it obvious. So quit playing coy. On your knees. I can literally smell your arousal. You know I know your cunt better than you do. On your knees, and let Andy fuck your ass. I won’t ask again. And be a good girl, and drop your arms. Go on. Let me see.”

He’s such an ass when he’s right. You let your arms fall, and you glance towards Andy. His eyes coast down your body as you start to pull your pants down. Andy licks his lips as he stares at your pebbled peaks. He’s ready to devour you. Ready to turn you into the mush, and become completely pliable like his doughs.

You came home tired, but a new sense of invigoration courses through your body as the bed dips down with your weight. Leaning forward you let your head rest completely on the mattress, and your ass full on in the air. Both men walk behind you, their eyes taking in your sex before Ransom’s lithe fingers move through your folds.

“She’s soaked,” he moans before slapping at Andy’s hand. “Nope, you can’t touch her until I say so. You must inspect the goods. She expects this from me. See,” he pulls you apart at the seam. Spreading you out fully for Andy’s hungry eyes. “The tightest pussy I’ve ever felt. But this…this pretty little hole,” Ransom spits down at your puckered entrance before rubbing it around your muscle.

“This is going to be all yours. You can’t have her needy little cunt. But her ass is just as greedy, watch,” you whimper as he presses a finger past the tight rim. Pushing yourself back into him. “Go on, I’ll warm her up, but you get nice and lubed. She has a bit of an attitude problem, but you fill her up, and she’s the most obedient little sex doll, aren’t ya? Such a little slut drunk on cock.”

Your brain goes fuzzy as you anticipate two cocks at once. Overwhelmed is a perfect word for it. Feeling all the feels, while Ransom pumps his finger in and out of you, and his sinful mouth never shuts up. “You can come in her or on her, but you can’t have that tight little pussy, okay?” Andy groans, coating his cock in lube.

He fists his thick veiny member a few times, starting to move closer. Ransom’s need for mirrors in the bedroom is paying off. You’re able to see Andy’s wide body and thick hands take in your holes. He looks massive behind you. “She’s so pretty when she gets stuffed, too. Look at her, ass in the air, and ready to be fucked so hard. In and out. Filled fully. Every little hole.”

Andy clears his throat, and Ransom reluctantly pulls his finger out of your ass. Smiling when you whine at the loss of him. Starting to rock on your knees because you need a replacement. “Easy, Sweet Buns,” his thick hands grab tight to your hips, digging into your skin with so much force you hope it bruises. Andy teases your tight hole with his cock. “You going to be a cockslut for us?”

“Mhmm,” mewling as his blunt mushroom tip breaches your entrance. Your fingers grip tight to the bed, and your eyes shoot open, trying to find your boyfriend’s handsome face. Staring at him with so much need as Andy slowly sinks into you. Doesn’t stop until he’s balls deep in your ass, and you're ready for Ransom to fill you up, too. You need him. It isn’t fair you can’t have him, too.

“Shh,” he sighs, petting your face. “Let big daddy Andy have some fun, okay?” You nod your head, but reach towards Ransom. Holding onto his hand as Andy slowly pulls out of you, and crashes back into your warmth. Yipping when he does it again quickly.

You never look anywhere, but Ransom’s handsome face. The way he’s adoring you even more for allowing your crush to own your ass. Rutting into you at such a steady pace, and yet you still feel empty. Ransom belongs in you as well. “You’re doing such a good job.”

“Sweet buns, you should really get on top of me. Let your boyfriend watch that neglected cunt as I fill every inch of your ass. He can see that pretty pussy weeping with need for him. Crying out for him because you need him so much. Doesn’t that sound good?”

“Yes! Yes!” Shouting because you need Ransom to see how empty you are without him. How much you need him inside of you more than some fantasy. “Please!” He nods his head, and Andy pulls out of you, and crawls on the bed. Letting you turn your back to him as you settle over top.

Able to watch every part of Ransom as you slowly sink over him. Moaning as your body swallows him whole, and Ransom’s eyes go to your core. Staring so hard at where he is supposed to be. You’ve already told him too many times that your body was made for him. “Do you like it, Ran?”

“Yes, very much so, kitty cat,” placing your hands behind you, and on either side of Andy, you start bouncing over top of him. Letting Ransom see a part of you not filled with him letting her beg him, because you won’t with words. Your body cries for him to enter you as your arousal leaks onto Andy. “You’re so perfect,” he moans, and you go harder.

Bucking on top of Andy, and ready to whine out Ransom’s name. “Make yourself come first. You needy little brat. If you want two cocks, come. Go on. You can do it,” you slam yourself over him harder. Enjoying the view even if it's torturous. “You’re almost there. You’ve got this. Keep going. Don’t stop. That pretty pussy needs my pretty cock inside of her, huh?”

“Yeah. Please. Ransom, I’m…” heat and pleasure rush to your core. It’s almost cruel to come like this. A big part of you is being ignored, and no matter what you do, Ransom isn’t budging. “Ransom, I’m…”

“Then do it, you filthy little slut,” that does it. Pleasure shoots into every part of your limbs as your eyes roll into the back of your head. Slowing down your movements, but Andy picks up where you leave off. “Clenching around nothing, and I got the front row seat to heaven,” his voice is so deep as he stares at your empty cunt.

Getting onto the bed before his lips meet yours. He tastes like sin and dessert as he swallows your moans, “You needed this,” he says before crashing into you. Both men pause as sounds you’ve never made before scream out of your lungs.

Giving you a grace period for you to adjust to just how incredibly full you feel. Stretched out in the most perfect way, and getting to have and feel Ransom finally. He fits so perfectly inside you. You’ve never doubted how he is made for you. He even feels just as much pleasure as you, just feeling how different this is. It’s overwhelming. Blinding. Makes you feel as if you’ve ascended to heaven.

Everything in your body ceases to stop functioning. You’re just there. Existing for nothing but pleasure. Obviously for them, but what you feel is like a religious experience. Floating in the air with the most beautiful high encasing your body.

“There she is,” Ransom coos down to you. “I thought I’d lost you to the pleasure,” what is he talking about? You’re just feeling. “I think you blacked out for a minute. Just kept saying my name, but barely.”

“Mmm.”

“Cockdrunk,” Andy is just a vessel. A tool to add to the fun. If it wasn’t for the severe amount of fullness you feel, you wouldn't know he is even there. All you care about is Ransom. Head rolling around on your shoulders. “Alright, let’s flip. You just lay there, and take care of your girl, while I fuck her.”

“You want that, baby? You want Andy to fuck you.”

“You.”

“You’re too far gone, baby. Yeah, we’ll switch,” you want to cry as Ransom pulls out of you. Already reaching out to him as he lays down on the bed. “Come on. C’mere,” it’s Andy that helps you move over to him. Guiding you to sink over Ransom, and you start kissing on his beautiful face. “I know. I know.”

The last words you remember as Andy slams into you, and you scream. Fuck it feels so good. So full. So very full. If you could float out of your body, and watch this experience you would. The world doesn’t exist. It’s just nirvana. You try and ground yourself with the touch of Ransom, because he is perfect. Rubbing over your face. Whispering your name because you forgot.

Andy’s movements are harsh and about him getting off; Ransom is about you and him. So sweet. So perfect. So in love with him. You didn’t think you could love him more, but a man willing to have another man in your bed because you’ve fantasized about it is the perfect man. “Ransom!”

“I know, just let go. Come on two cocks,” his hips drive up into you, and you collapse on his chest. Incoherently saying his name. “Come,” he whispers into your ears, and rockets go off in your body. Shooting endorphins and pleasure to every nerve ending as your body seizes up. This is it, the true escape of the world, and absolute bliss.

“She’s. So. Fucking. Tight,” Andy grunts, thrusting into you so hard your body lurches forward. “So. Fucking. Good. Ugh!” Growling behind you as his movements become irregular. “Right. There!” It’s like everybody’s body is synchronized. Your walls flutter around their cocks, and they each shoot warm ropes of thick cum into your body, and you’re buzzing. A high like no other.

Long weeks are meant for going dumb, and what better way to escape than this. Andy pants behind you, while Ransom’s fingers softly caress your body. His lips ghost over your skin, and you feel yourself start to drift. Feeling so comfortable and exhausted from the week.

“I thought I was supposed to come in,” you relax on top of Ransom’s body, soaking up the afterglow of his release. He feels so warm inside of you. His cum right where it belongs. He wasn’t ever going to waste a drop again.

“Shh,” Ransom says softly as Andy pulls out of your body.

“No, you said if I set up the cameras, that I could fuck her mouth,” Andy rolls his eyes, grabbing a camera off the tripod and points it at your used holes. “Oh, yeah, don’t forget the money shot. But you wanted all her holes to be dripping in cum. It was a gift before you propos…”

“Jake! Shut up!” Jake Jensen mumbles something under his breath. You nuzzle into Ransom more before you drift off to sleep. You’ve never felt more satisfied. “Yes, next time I’ll make sure she’s airtight, but we got to ease her into it. And besides…”

“We know, Drysdale,” Andy hands Jake the camera before going to his clothes, “You’re marrying the girl, but she is okay with being used from time to time. Did you even know she was interested in Jake before her journal?”

“Nope. Why would she be into him?”

“I’m right here, and I am lovable!”

“Alright, go on. Next time I’ll| make her watch herself being used first. Maybe over some sweet buns,” Ransom gives a little chuckle to Andy. “There there, sweetheart, these men are going to leave, and I’m going to give us a bath. The rest of the weekend is about you. You’ve had such a hard night.”

No. It was almost perfect. Almost.

Masterlist

@tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @peaches1958 @seitmai

@smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @midnightramyeoncravings @kmc1989

@pandaxnienke @donutloverxo @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @bambamwolf87 @rogersbarber 

@harrysthiccthighss @distractingbeth @musingsfromthemitten

[buck-star]

Unspoken desires

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

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

Wordcount: 2.362 Words

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

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

Masterlist | Ransom Drysdale Masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[lanabuckybarnes]

| Handprints |

18+ Minors DNI

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

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

✧Word Count✧ 1.4K

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

God you wanted the ground to swallow you whole.

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

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

“Well that went well.”

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

“She likes you,”

“Yuh huh?”

“And she hates me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck baby, fucking hell…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thanks for reading~

[munsster]

take me to church

A/N: i am down ASTRONOMICALLY for big men who are also whiny babies (gif creds: @mulderscully)

Pairing: Hugh “Ransom” Drysdale x Fem!Reader

Summary: The Drysdale heir gets on his knees for his darling goddess. 3.0k words

Warnings: smut mdni, switch!ransom, switch!reader, degrading, worship, slapping, pet names (princess, puppy, sweetheart, honey, baby, angel), gentle slapping, religious references (mainly catholic), overuse of italics xoxo

"You should know your place by now, Drysdale."

"I'm sorry—"

"Don't whine, you sound like a baby," you groan. Just a moment ago, you had slammed his bedroom door shut tight, and all six feet of him had whipped around with the meanest scowl on his face. He's big, sure, but you've got leverage on his heart. It kills him the way you snap into place between his ribs with, god, the prettiest laugh he's ever heard. He'd never admit it, though. Least of all to you.

And he knows he's nothing but an insect under your heel, yours to shatter and reconstruct. He gets a rush in your presence. He has never been so intimidated by someone with such a sweet smile. Such a gentle soul but the worst sadist he's ever held close. Worse than himself.

"You think you stand a chance, don't you?"

You're like a roman candle with how unpredictably fiery you are. Yesterday, it was being stuck in traffic down the ninety-five. Tomorrow, it'll probably be some coworker's silly mistake. Tonight, you simply came home angry. That's it. You need a release, and there he is. Dark hair ungelled and messy but pushed back and flawless still, standing like a statue and at your mercy. You're set off, the wild look in your eye setting him off.

"I'm all yours, princess, tell me what you want," he coos so sweetly you could melt, but you never ever would. It'd boost his ego and splinter his edges. He'd get worse. And what you give him is discipline. Patience for his inner child. Medicine for his deepest wounds.

"On your knees, puppy."

He does. Without one single thought. Every iota devoted to your demands. With a thud, he's at your feet, lamenting his own devotion when your hands preen through his hair.

You're his heaven and hell and all the bits in between. He's a shrine to your love, a glimmering reflection in the pool of your heart. And he's grown oh-so-narcissistic these past few months.

"What to do with my poor boy," you whisper because he pouts, not a single change to his expression, but he sinks in on his own body, deflating at the core. You coddle him. "Oh, I know."

He hates your mystery. Because it's no secret what you're up to. It's no longer mystery with a grin like that. He shifts and settles his big hands onto your thighs, pushing up to hold your waist tentatively.

"Please, sweetheart, anything."

"Hugh, you know exactly how I feel about begging." You hold his chin and lean close. So close blood pumps through his ears and drowns out his panic. Yeah, his cock is hard, but it's no rival to his blown pupils and needy hands that tug the waistband of your slacks.

"Keep going," you say against the corner of his mouth, nipping his bottom lip and sucking until he whines and digs his fingertips into your skin. The heat of your palm blows over his cheek as you strike him. Gently, though. Just a kiss of your fingers on his skin, and he blushes. No way in hell would you hit him—harm him without permission. He has to admit though: he'd like the sting if it was your doing. For it would be his unraveling and a blessing all the same.

"Princess, sweetheart, come on, I can give you everything," he huffs, grasping desperately for you, at anything within his insatiable reach, "Just say the word, please, honey, you gotta understand: I worship you."

"Oh, I understand plenty, pet. Why don't you prove it?"

He stands from the floor like a ghost fulfilling his final purpose in your hands. His body is so ardently belonging it's sickening. To be yours is a rite amongst the holy and yet you bring the sin out of him. All seven, splayed out like a deck of cards across his thieving brain.

"You Boston boys think you're so scary. All that east coast charm just pourin' outta you. You couldn't scare a newborn. What makes you so special, huh?"

"You."

Your breath seizes. Every nerve alight with his warm hands crawling over your torso and his cheeks pink. Your boy has never been so forward. Not like this. Not ever. His eyes gleam like he's never witnessed such beauty and wickedness up close. Like he's never seen a mirror.

You stare at him, incredulous of his charisma, his grace. He is sure of one thing though: whatever you are will kill him, but wouldn't that be the best poison?

"You have no idea," Ransom whispers. He tosses your shirt aside and unbuttons your pants. And you let him. Sincerely, you are taken aback and breathing in awe. He is filled to the bones with your light, blood replaced by lust. He needs nothing else besides your soul. Your wicked hands.

Then he kisses you. Like he could lose you to the abyss if he let go for even one moment. With saliva spun from his tongue and delving into yours, but soft and kind and to feel the familiarity of your warmth. He becomes pliant, knowing with clear certainty he is a lonely boat and you are a raging sea only lying in wait to rip him to shreds.

And yet he sails willingly. Blissfully.

"You know," you mumble against his fervent mouth. "You'd be so handsome if you weren't desperate." Though, he doesn't stop to listen. He's too dissatisfied. He needs the taste of you and the half-glass of wine you downed in the kitchen. It tingles in his mouth, bitter and recherché, the best he could find. For his goddess, he'd pay with his life.

If you truly meant the things you said to him out of frustration, he would still promise you every ounce of starlight in the sky. If you truly meant every insult, he would still beg and pine and bleed to be called yours. He'll be a disgrace as long as he is your disgrace.

And he knows you're lying when you tell him things like that. As if someone so lovely as you would consider some lowlife like him if he weren't the finest looking asshole in northern Massachusetts. Worship is an exchange of grace. It's not a one way street, no. It's an intersection. God must love his mortals or they would not be his.

"Hugh."

He pulls back and squints. You call him that when: one, you're pissed off, or two, you're about to fuck the living daylights out of him and leave him destitute and longing for days. Either way, he wins.

"My angel... my beloved... my one. What can I do for you?"

Each endearment peppered with kisses along your throat. He sweetens it up because he's smitten and wants what you give him every time: pain.

"If only I could use you like the poor beggar you are," you say, condescending in that way he goes mad for. And he grins.

"Please?"

Say no more, you tug his hair without any sense of remorse and no gauge for his pain. Anyway, his tolerance is boundless when he's with you. He tilts his head back, neck bare and Adam's apple bobbing as he gulps. Out of fear or pleasure, he can't tell. But he gives you that cheshire smirk, and it all dissolves down into his affinity for your touch.

You trace the column of his throat and press your tongue to his jaw, sucking at the skin to mark him. And he wishes you would do it all over and everyday. He is nothing if not yours. When you leave little bruises, he gets to be told even when you're away.

"You're incorrigible," you pant against his warm skin that pulses with cold blood. "Look at you, so so needy. Trust-fund-fuck-toy, little no good dolly, hmm? Need someone to tell you what to do so you don't rot away."

Something like a growl blooms in his chest, though it feels like a purr when he goes slack and leans into your touch. You're always taken aback by his antics, but you've never let on about it until now. With eyes wide, you're spoon feeding him abuse, and he's taking it without the airplane noises. He slips easily into your submission, and you're stunned. Even now, after all you've put him through.

"Ransom," you whisper into the little indentation at the base of his neck. He hums. Your fingers comb through his hair, and he shivers with delight. We create false gods to pass time and worship them all the same. He is yours, and you are his, and it will be that way until the end of time.

"On the bed. Now."

He jitters with excitement, only still under your scrutiny, and manages to drop his sweatpants into a crumpled pile at his feet. You dare not look down. You don't have to. You know he's not wearing his usual briefs: crisp white and snug around the muscle of his thighs. You know because he hisses when the cold, autumn air sidles along his cock. Doesn't matter. He'll warm up nicely once he gets inside you.

For now, he sloppily kisses the bow of your lips and slumps to the bed, breathing heavy with his back to the headboard. He's loud and yet untouched. You'd think he ran a marathon. Or six.

"Join me," he grumbles, scratching his knee before slowly dragging his blunt nails up and up and—then his fingers are wrapped around his cock. Nothing in comparison to any ounce of what you've given him before. The best sex of his life stands clad in panties with her arms crossed. Brooding over his weak body. "Princess?"

"Shut up. Let me get a good look at you, pretty boy." You hold his chin between thumb and forefinger. Between head and heart, he lies steadfast and boyish in the wake of your warmth. His strength is drained by your every touch. You render him incapable, but he's the one built far above and toned like the shaft of a power drill. You can fit your fingers perfectly into his divots, and all is restored. Turn his house into a home so long as you keep looking at him like he's a work of art.

"Ransom, what're you thinking about?"

And then again, you hold him so so gently, he'd think he was precious. Beyond value, even. What is value anyway. His gauge will always be whether you want him or not. His value is subjective to you. Forever and always, he may be a dreadful Catholic, but he’s well-versed in your scripture.

"What do I ever think about? Other than your sweet pussy," he mumbles and cups his palm between your legs, fingertips slow and circuitous around your covered clit. "Come on, princess, I know you want it. I can tell she needs me. Give in."

You've gotten good at being angry with Ransom, so good it's hard to remember his softness. The assailant of his soul often outsmarts the gentleman. But once in a while, he shines through the cracks beside his eyes when he smiles. So genuine, it's hard to deny. Not now, though.

Now, he reads troublemaker loud and clear.

You straddle his hips, and he gargles down a throat-clawing moan. Oh, you're horrible. A fist around his cock, you tug the crotch of your underwear to the side and slick his tip between your folds. You manhandle and taunt him, and yet he's never been this hard. He's gonna need painkillers for the headache you rattle him with.

"Who needs who again?"

He could cum. In fact, he would burst if he wasn't clenching his fingers through the sheets: tight enough to draw blood between the linen and from the heel of his palm. He's withholding because of your withholding. He won't last like this. And he's going fucking crazy.

"God—fuckin' damnit—gorgeous, baby, you're killin' me. Huh—fuck—'s that what you want?" He groans, head thrown back against the headboard.

"Be careful, Hugh. I can be a lot less nice if you want," you grumble with teeth scraping the edge of his jaw when you kiss his skin. And he wants. Oh, he wants you—with every fiber of his wicked being—to be mean. But he'd also die every which way to be your good boy. He slips his fingertips beneath the underwire of your bra, weaseling his palm to cup your supple breast.

"I'm being careful," he says, "so careful. Wouldn't wanna hurt my babygirl." You grab his jaw hard as he pinches the bud of your nipple with a grin.

"You're the worst, Drysdale."

"You love me."

"I love using you."

He stills. Then lifts his head. Of course. Of course. He suspected it, sure, but never has he wanted you to take back what you said like he does now. His body aches for you nonetheless. He shatters into pieces for you. Of course you love it. But not him.

"Take it back," he mutters.

"Hmm? I can't hear you—"

Ransom wraps his arms flush around your waist to hold you against him like a crime. Your smirk melts away hot and fast at the frown on his pretty face.

"You love me. Say it, princess, you love me." A sinner in every degree, he's begging. His repentance is you. If only you'd forgive his wounded pride. You press the pad of your forefinger to his chin and look down on him like a god. Like he's a sacrifice.

"Oh, Hugh. You don't know the first thing about love."

"But you do. And you love me. Please, love me," he huffs. You lick his wet bottom lip like a cat, stray and rabid and curling into his warmth with the sun long gone.

"I'll show you love, pretty boy. Like you've never felt it before."

And you sink onto him; he nearly loses all control beneath you, squirming and grabbing at anything he can reach. Needy as babies often are, only he is fully grown and you both know it. Though his whining might prove otherwise. 

"Jesus—Jesus Christ, that's—that's—keep going." His hips jerk up off of the mattress with every pulse of your walls clamping around his shaft. His body is so limp and yet so tense, he could explode. He wants nothing more than to make you his: to fill you so deeply he's there for months. Nine, maybe.

You mewl. Holy shit, the prettiest noise he has every heard, you mewl. Like a newborn fawn, ever fair and fragile, only graced by sweat and heavy breaths. His eyes snap open to see your back arched, palming at his wrists with your eyes fluttered closed. He licks his lips, then kissing your navel wetly, he watches you coyly through his lashes.

Your fingers scratch at his scalp while he bounces you on his pulsing cock. Every vein, every subtle undulation, you feel slipping out of you just to slip back in. Yanking his hair, he pants, and you purr again at his body's rough reaction. His hips jolt, and you grin with your lip content between your teeth.

His hands are so big, and you're so soft, and there's nothing he can do but worship and sanctify your hallowed and celestial body. Ethereal. You are of literature, written as an angel, halo and all. A blade of light piercing a thick blanket of clouds, shedding calm on his broken heart. And he's a pagan of your beauty. 

At this point, he accepts it. He wouldn't mind being nothing more than a doll to you. Because you still chose him. He's still your doll, once all is said and done. And his pulse steadies from a raging pounding to a heavy beat in his ears, rushing through his bloodstream like narcotics.

"Feel so good, princess, all tight 'n warm for me. All mine," he groans. Eyes shut, you breathe in the soft slapping of damp skin, and he savors the way you drip down his inner thigh. "My little vice, all wrapped 'round my cock. So good to me, aren't you? Atta girl."

You crane your neck forward and clench your jaw. Your thrusts grow slow and deep and reaching as the warmth drains from your head and you clench his shoulder with eager fingers.

"C'mon, we both know how bad she want it. Fuckin'—can feel you squeezing me, angel." He pats your thigh, and the vein on his neck goes red hot about to burst.

Then you go weak in his palms. It's your turn to be used while he lets you wring his cock for dear life. He glides you in slow up down, up down strokes and spills into you, plugging you tight as you keep him struggling for air.

You nudge the tip of your nose against the soft part of neck beneath his chin. The softest part of Ransom Drysdale—besides the spot reserved in his little heart for you, his dove. You press, and he swallows and syncs to your every movement. From the bat of your eyelashes to the ample exhales of your parted lips.

"I love you, Ransom."

He goes dizzy.

"What?"

"I love you."

You lift your head, dead serious with fingers ticking along his expanding chest. He grins, dopey and elfish and needy. And shifts his hip. You gasp at the blood flowing hard into his cock once more.

"Say it again," he grumbles.

"I love you."

"Yeah. Yeah, you do. Now you're gonna scream it till the neighbors do, too." You're sure of one thing and one thing alone. Ransom Drysdale has always been true to his word. That's how you end up with his hand around your throat and your fingers in his mouth.

masterlist

[chuckbass-love]

Only Love Can Hurt Like This | Ransom Drysdale | Part 12

A/N: Yet again, i have left this way too long and at this point there are no excuses except life being life. I really hope y’all are still invested in this and if not then i completely understand.

Disclaimer: My work is not to be translated or to be posted anywhere else other than MY Tumblr, Wattpad and Ao3 without my permission. However, reblogs are welcome.��

Summary: The moment you’ve put off finally arrives and you’re scared, but what will happen if the test is positive? 

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Talk of pregnancy, swearing, vaginal intercourse, anal fingering, daddy kink, cum play, sweet Ransom moment (again to make up for such serious moments in this part) 18+ again, being as the entire series thus far has been 18+. Enjoy guys💕

Word Count: 4,380

GIF NOT MINE!!! Credit to @cevanswife go check them out! 💜

Noise. Suddenly, when time is moving extremely slow and you’re impatiently waiting with bated breath, for something so important, there’s always too much noise. Noise that you barely even notice in your day to day life when you’re rushing around completing errands or running out of the door for work. Even when falling asleep in the pitch black and silence, the noise is louder now than it is then.

Like the clock in your bedroom, above the en suite door. Despite having a timer on Ransoms phone set already, you can practically feel that damn clock laughing at you, mocking you and telling you that you still have one more minute left.

One more minute.

Or the wind outside, smashing against the double glazed windows, making your ears ring. God knows why.

And then there’s the noise you can’t hear too well but faintly, and that’s still enough. 

The washing machine and the dryer in the laundry room. Rattling.

Tick, tick, tick.

One more minute.

One more minute before your life might change forever. 

You never thought you’d see this side of Ransom, the side where he’s switched on, attentive, loving and willing to try and be there, no matter the outcome of this dam test. 

Why is it taking so long. Your knee starts to bounce off its own accord. You can’t stop it. Just like your hands, they shake a little, anticipation is the sole cause. Oh and nerves. Your anxiety is wracking your entire body. 

Dare you glance down at the timer on the iPhone on the bathroom side.

45 seconds left.

You start too whisper, counting down as your knee starts to bounce more, your nails picking at the nails on your other hand until a soothing hand comes to stop it.

“I’ve got you baby” 

30 seconds left.

“What if it’s positive?” your worried eyes search his for some reassurance, needing him now more than ever to show and possess the strength you don’t have.

It’s been a whirlwind couple months, from breaking up with Ransom to getting back together with him, then dealing with his bastard of a friend...well, ex-friend. And then having him use your sister, your own flesh and blood, to get back at Ransom. It’s a lot for anyone to deal with and in the midst of all of it, you can’t help but admit you have been careless with safety during sex. It’s kind of hard to stay on top of things when the last thing on your mind is safety. All you want lately is to feel him close, skin to skin, for him to ease the anxious feelings away with his body. His touch, his kiss. So powerful, so gentle yet rough.

It’s what you always seem to need lately.

And if those needs have resulted in a tiny human growing inside of you.. would that be so bad?

“Then we’ll deal with it, we’ll sort this together. You and me”

Sort this? Deal with it?

Does he mean -

You can barely even let that thought manifest and clearly your knee is working overtime and you’ve gone back to picking at your hands and nails again as Ransom stills both. Using one hand to force your eyes to his.

“Y/N, baby. Look at me. I didn’t mean that in the way it sounded. I meant that we’ll talk about it. We’ll cope and get through this however we need to. We’ll discuss this together..okay?”

You feel yourself nod as you look back down at the timer.

1 second left and...

The ringing sound of Ransoms alarm goes off, startling you despite knowing it was coming.

You take a deep breath, waiting a second so that you can calm your hands and that shaky knee of yours before you look at Ransom and pick the test up. His hand over yours, holding it as you both bite the bullet and glance.

Two lines. 

Two very clear, very real lines. 

You feel his hand grip the test to look at it properly without you. He takes it and stands up as he begins to pace the small bedroom. His large frame taking up all of the space. 

Were you too quick to believe his promises of being there no matter the result? Did you buy into that false sense of security yet again?

Everything moves in slow motion, even your thoughts. You daren’t disturb him while he paces, with his eyes fixated on those two lines. He’s processing. Internally cursing this baby inside of you. Or at least you think

Ransom’s POV

Two lines.

Two very clear, very real lines. 

I instantly feel claustrophobic, instantly need air. After pacing for what feels like forever, i feel worse. I need proper air, i need it now.

I rush to the window, practically cursing inside as i fumble with the handle, i push it open and lean there for a moment, breathing in and out rapidly, unable to catch my breath fully.

I needed that. That’s the air i needed. 

With my eyes shut and fresh air blasting my face, i start to cool down. The temperature in my face cools slowly but enough for me to regain a coherent train of thought.

It takes a minute before the thought of her comes back to me. I spin around instantly to find her, tears pooling in her eyes, a worried look on her face. I can tell that the first thing she thought of when she saw me just now was that i’m angry. 

How wrong could she be.

I rush to her side, pulling her close to me so i can hold her.

“Shhh, i got you. I’ve got you” i soothe, or at least attempt to as she sniffles into my chest.

“A-are you mad?” her voice comes out just above a whisper, while a rogue tear slips down her cheek and onto my chest.

“Of course not”... “why would i be?”

It seems logical in my head, why would i be mad? How could i be mad?

I’m happy, albeit overwhelmed but happy nonetheless.

“You’ve barely said a word’

“It’s overwhelming that’s all darling, it’s a lot to take in and i can’t even imagine how you must be feeling. Talk to me”

Your POV  

You pull away from his chest, wiping your tear stained face as you swallow your nerves down as best as you can so that you can get your thoughts out into words.

“I’ve always known that i’ve wanted to be a mother. Even when i was younger with my sisters, playing moms and dads” that earns a chuckle from your sweet but misunderstood boyfriend. 

His arm cradles you as you continue.

“But that’s a far cry from that to this, to doing it, for real. Having a tiny human depend on you for everything. It’s also the unexpected, perhaps. The fact that this wasn’t planned. We’ve been so preoccupied lately, being careful when having sex hasn’t exactly been at the forefront of our minds. But what if it was meant to be that way?”

“How do you mean?”

“What if this was always supposed to happen. This little life growing inside of me as we speak. Sometimes things happen when you least expect it, for a reason” 

I feel silly saying that but it’s true. Life can have a funny way of challenging you, and doing it in ways you wouldn’t expect. 

You look up at him, searching his eyes for anything to show that he’s truly okay with the outcome of the test.

Facing a positive pregnancy test was certainly not on your plans for this year, but what matters is how you deal with it, how you communicate with one another about this. It may be your body but you want the choice to be one you make with both yours and Ransoms input. It took the two of you to create this life. It’s only right the two of you decide what happens.

Your hand naturally goes to your stomach and you gently rub your thumb across it, wondering what life would be like with a baby. How Ransom would hold up as a father. You know he’d be a whole lot better than his father, that’s for sure. Which let’s face it, isn’t a hard feat at all. Richard Drysdale is a bastard of a man. And you know that Ransom wouldn’t mind you saying that. It’s a fact. 

Ransoms hand joins you, his thick and long fingers fingers guiding your own to stroke your stomach.

“We don’t have to decide just yet” he starts, getting down on his knees in front of your bed and positioning himself in between your legs, parting them as he inches closer. A position you’ve had him in more than once. It brings heat to your sex. You can’t help it. The man is quite literally a sex god. 

You’re sat here, in the midst of a serious conversation and yet you’re in the mood to be intimate. This man can literally touch you in any way, be in front of you talking about politics or even pissing you off in some form and you still feel that invisible string, pulling you to him, like a magnetic force. You belong to him, and he belongs to you. However, times like these make you want him all the more. 

His eyes darken as he catches yours doing the same, he knows that look.

“I don’t want to talk about it anymore, if that’s okay?” you murmur, your hands roaming down his tanned and toned body, abs for days, that sexy V-shape leading into his boxers, where his not so mysterious size awaits you. 

You need him, god you need him more than you need to breathe. Everything is aching, your anxiety wreaking havoc on your body once again, you need a distraction, just for right now. You know that you can’t avoid it forever, but you can allow yourself to forget, just for today. Or even just for right now. 

“Oh yeah, and what do you want, hm?” his finger crooks under your chin, lifting it up, not allowing you to avoid his eyes. “Come on, tell me princess. This only works if we communicate” his voice is going deeper as he finishes talking. He knows exactly what you want, but as always, in true Ransom fashion, he’s making you work for it. Just the way that you like.

“I want you. No, i need you. I need you so badly. Your touch, your hands. I need it all over me. Afterwards i promise we can discuss the pregnancy. I just need to be close to you. Please” your doe eyes cause him to falter his usual Daddy persona. 

“Like this?” he rasps, manoeuvring so that you’re laying down on the bed and he’s on top of you, his hands gripping your ass before leading up your body, squeezing and gripping every curve, his soft sighs make it clear how much he wants you too. No spot untouched.

You hum in appreciation and agreement with his words and he continues, his face burying into your neck, kissing, licking and biting like a wild animal desperate for his next feed. You’re his prey. Always have been since day one. You belong to him.

“Use your words, slut” his demand comes with a menacing drawl, one you would never wish to ignore. You couldn’t even if you wanted to. When he’s in this zone, this fantasy of your owner, Ransom is not to be tested. Best believe he will always come out on top.

“Y-yes, like that” you moan breathlessly as his hands slide up to the tie of your robe, his fingers barely need to work at it before it opens, giving him better access to you and that sexy goddess like body of yours, or at least that’s how he’s always seen it. You’ve never once had to wonder if he’s into you, his reaction to you is enough confirmation.

Ransom moves you to the centre of the bed, spreading your legs before moving in between them once again. “Yes, what?” his eyebrows raise, a playful smirk on his beautiful face.

“Yes Daddy” 

And that was all he needed to begin.

His lips pucker as he places kisses along your stomach, working his way up to your neck, gentle kisses at first. But the higher he gets, the more hungry he becomes, nipping you here, licking you there. Your chest starts to rise and fall quite quickly now, your cheeks flush as he reaches your breasts.

No matter how many times he looks at them, feels them in his hands and plays with them, he loves them. It’s like he’s obsessed with showing every significant part of your body some love. But then again, when it comes to Ransom, every part of your body is significant. Every. Single. Inch.

“Look at these nipples of yours, all ready for me. I’ve barely even touched you” his pleased tone makes you smile a little. Daddy Ransom is here for real now. 

You prepare yourself mentally for the rollercoaster your body is about to be put through. 

His index fingers and thumbs roll the pert nipples as he kisses the valley between your breasts, licking his way to one nipple to bite it ever so slightly, enough to make you jolt in surprise before repeating the same on the other. His pleasure comes with a build up, a build up that renders you desperate for him, desperate for his cock. But it’s all worth it. 

“Being so patient for me, baby. Such a fuckin’ good girl” his New England drawl makes you wetter, the pool of arousal at your entrance causes you to wriggle and writhe, needing to rub your thighs together for some kind of relief. But with Ransom between your legs, you’re trapped. 

“Woah woah, what happened to patience” his hand moves down towards your sex as his face moves inches above yours “behave” his words come as he smacks at it. He repeats it once more before continuing his journey to your neck. His mouth starts to suck and bite the tender skin, it’s bound to leave a mark, proof to everyone that he was here. His intention.

You wait for him to move up to your face to give you a kiss and when he does it’s messy, emotional and needy. Tongues moving and colliding, your hands gripping his face before he moves them above your head. One hand of his holding them there while he reaches for the handcuffs in the bedside table draw. Your eyes widen as your brain can only imagine what is in store for you. Rough sex with zero mercy. He plans to fuck you until you beg for him to stop. Just the way you like him to. The arousal worsens as he straddles your chest, tying you to your headboard.

Once you’re attached, no escaping, he gets off of the bed to step out of his boxers slowly. The teasing only makes you more in need for him. And then theres his cock. God it’s like he was sculpted to perfection and brought to you to continuously render you speechless. Every day that you get to look at him and that body of his is a gift that keeps giving. 

Your eyes rake over him one time too many but he doesn’t mind. In fact the cocky bastard loves it. It boosts his already inflated ego when it comes to his appearance. 

That’s Ransom for you, he looks good and he knows it. He’s used that to his advantage plenty of times. You recall him doing the same for you when you first met.

“Like what you see, baby?” he winks, that wink makes you melt but you forget you’re stuck in place by those handcuffs. 

You nod, practically salivating at the sight.

“Please” you beg, pathetically. 

“I need you” the whimpers fall on death ears as he climbs back onto the bed, fisting his hardened cock for you to watch as his own eyes rake over you. He knows he’s one lucky man. 

“Do you now? How much?” Like you said, he’s a bastard. 

“Badly, i’m so wet for you. Please” 

And with that, he spreads your legs further, inspecting you with his eyes before his index finger starts to rub at your clit a little while his middle finger explores your folds until it’s at your entrance, rubbing your juices around.

“So you are” he hums in appreciation before lifting your legs up a little and bending down. 

His mouth attacks your pussy, making you whimper in shock. It’s never been so easy before to get him to give in. He must need you just as much, if not more. 

“Taste so fuckin’ good” his growling and breathy voice turns you on more, god you love him. So fucking much. You love the way he relentlessly attacks your body with his mouth, hands and cock. He just knows what you need. 

You’ve been here so many times now, danced this same dance. You’re fluent in each others bodies language. Knowing every weakness, every tell tale sign of an orgasm, every pressure point that gets the other begging for more. However, you rarely get to use your knowledge as Ransom enjoys dominating too much, and who are you to argue?

Your hips buck up as you grind into his face.

“You eat my pussy so good Daddy” you whimper, desperate for more of him, his teeth nip not so gently at your demanding clit but it spurs you on. You thrust faster and faster before he holds you still, your thighs wrapped tightly around is head as his nails dig into your soft skin. He’s hungry.

That all too familiar rope in your stomach starts to tighten, your climax building, and building and building. Until one last flicker of his strong tongue causes the rope to snap. 

You cry out, his name falling off of your tongue like a prayer, all to familiar. He licks you through the orgasm while your legs shake around his head, just the way he likes. You’re so sensitive but he wants more, who are you to deny him. His tongue now lapping up all he forced from your body, the juices make him groan

He forces your body back to the bed, allowing you too lay there while he stares at you. In awe, perhaps.

His hands wrap around his hardened cock as he moves over you so that your legs can lock around his torso, keeping the two of you connected, while your hands aren’t available.

“You want this cock inside of you? Gonna be my good little slut, hm?” his filthy words only make you want him more, you shake the cuffs in attempt to free yourself so that you can touch him, wanting him inside of you faster.

The taunting tuts he gives you, warning you about rushing him. Ransom is especially thorough when it comes to giving pleasure. He likes to make sure no stone is left unturned, leaving you a puddle of satisfaction with shaky legs for further proof. 

“I need it inside of me, i need you. Make me your slut, use me for your own pleasure” you plead, doe eyes returning as you bite your lip seductively. That’ll do it, the final nail in your coffin, clearly, as he slides into you slowly, filling you up inch by inch.

Two sets of eyes close in tandem as pleasure envelopes both of you. All of your stress from the last 48 hours vanishes in a heartbeat. Tension disappears. 

You know you have to face everything soon but this is a short term distraction, one you are both welcoming with open arms. It’s what you need right now, no harm in satisfying that. 

His thrusts speed up as he grips your legs, pushing them up and back. Folding you over so that he can push down on the backs of your thighs, using it as leverage for him to go to town. Fucking into you with reckless abandon, giving you all that he has. All of his confusion about the new circumstance you’ve found yourselves in, all of the tension that piled on top of him the moment he saw those two lines. All of it is channeled into this moment right now.

“So fucking wet for me, baby. My god” the sound of his balls slapping against your asshole mixed with the sound of your juices each time he drives his cock balls deep into you bounces off of the walls, making you glad you live alone. 

His hands move to splay across your ass, gripping it so tight that his nails dig in, leaving a mark for certain. You wince but revel in the pain of it, the beautiful pain. 

“You feel so good inside of me, daddy. Are you proud of me, taking all of you like the good little slut you turned me into mm?”

His eyes darken, his brows scrunch as his middle finger circles your puckered hole, so tight, so fucking tight.

He throws his head back grunting as his thrusts get more aggressive before sucking that same finger and circling the hole again. He pushes it in slowly, blowing out a deep breath he’d been holding in until his finger slipped inside, just a little. It’s been a while since he played with your ass like this.

Oh how you’ve missed it. Pushing in and out, he works it in deeper each time, training it to take all of that finger. 

God you’re so good for him, he needs you to keep being good, to keep taking what he dishes out. You’re always good, so perfect, so precious. 

He loses control, rough isn’t the word for how he’s fucking you, his finger getting faster with its movements, working in time with his cock as it moves in and out of your soaking wet pussy, your juices covering it tip to base. 

Yet again, the tell tale sign of an impending orgasm washes over you as you cry to be released. His one free hand moves up momentarily to pick the key up for the cuffs. You nod rapidly, signalling to him to free you. You need to be closer, you need to touch him.

Ransom notices this, smirking as he speeds the pace of his finger up a notch, working harder to push you through that orgasm you’ve needed so much. “Is my good girl gonna cum, huh? Gonna make a big mess all over daddy’s cock?Give it to me baby, come on, give me that cum, i need it like i need fucking air to breathe. Come on, slut, cum on this cock. Give yourself a mess to clean once i free those hands”

His words are enough to push you over the edge as you cry out once again, for the second time today he’s the reason for your relentless pleasure. Your pussy walls clench down on him, again and again and again, making him moan along with you. He pulls out quick, pushing the key into the lock to free you at last before manhandling you around so that you’re on your knees on the floor, in between his naked legs, sucking his cock. 

His hips buck, forcing you to take all of him, one punishing thrust after another, saliva drips from your mouth each time he pulls out. His hands grip your hair, giving you no choice but to comply. All while your cum drips from your stretched out and satisfied hole. 

Pleasuring your man brings you pleasure too, you can’t help but feel the same old need for more as you service his cock with your mouth, bringing him close to his own orgasm. But before you swallow it, you pull off in time for him to spray your chest. His arousal covering your breasts fully. You waste no time in playing with it, moving it all across with your fingers before licking it off slowly, seductively. His eyes follow your every move, amazed.

“You’re so sexy, you know that, right?” 

You nod, confidently. You don’t always know it but in this moment right now, you believe it wholeheartedly. Nothing could stop you from showing it to him. 

The taste of him makes your pussy throb non stop.

Look at you, such a desperate slut, constantly craving his cock. 

His thumb strokes your chin as he leans over you, catching a drop that didn’t quite make your mouth before you take it and suck the remains off. 

“That, my darling, is certainly my favourite distraction” he hums with satisfaction as he stands up, towering over you before picking you up and carrying you to the en suite. “But let’s get you cleaned up, hm? Then we can talk about that test”

You nod before resting your head on his chest as he walks you into the bathroom for a much needed shower.

Sooner or later you’ll need to face that test, and as nervous as you are. There’s no one you’d rather have those difficult conversations with.

-----------------------

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Thank you for reading and as always, please interact, it means a lot. Love you all💜

[navybrat817]

Temporary Job

Pairing: Soft!Dark Ransom Drysdale x Female Reader

Summary: Your job with Ransom is only temporary. Or so you think.

Word Count: 250

Warnings: Implied DUBCON/NONCON, possessive behavior, Ransom Drysdale being an asshole (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: The Basement Spouses Writing Challenge Week 2! Character: Ransom Drysdale. Length: 250 words max. Prompt: "Go on. Tell me you hate me and see what that does to me." ❤️ @stargazingfangirl18, I may need to expand on this and have him truly manhandler her! Written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @saradika . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Tears filled your eyes as you read the email. Another job rejection. This one hadn’t given you the chance for an interview. Just like the last one.

You stiffened and quickly tucked your phone away as Ransom walked into his home office. “Excuse me, Hugh. I mean, Mr. Drysdale.”

“Let me guess?” Ransom smirked as he shut and locked the door. “You got rejected? Again? Probably because you were too busy looking at your phone instead of cleaning my house.”

“I'm sorry?”

“Cut the bullshit. I'm not a fucking idiot,” he snapped, his usually handsome face twisted in a scowl. “You think I don’t know that you’ve been looking for other jobs?”

You caved under his sharp gaze and wondered how he found out. “It isn’t personal,” you said, refusing to tell him that you were uncomfortable in his presence. “But this was a temporary job and-”

“After the calls I made, no one will hire you,” he cut you off, eyeing you like you were a piece of meat as tears began to fall. “And you can call me Ransom from now on.”

You screamed when he bent you over the desk a minute later, even though no one was around for miles to hear. You promised you wouldn’t tell if he let you go. You may have even said you hated him when he laughed.

“Go on. Tell me you hate me and see what that does to me. But you aren’t going anywhere, pumpkin. You’re mine now.”

Don't worry. I'm sure he'll be good to you. 😈 Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Ransom Drysdale Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[mrsfrankadler]

Handsome Stranger

ransom drysdale x reader, carter Baizen x reader

A/N: okay why is this man so fine.. put him in jail this has to be against some law somewhere. my god.

- can be a standalone but you’ll wanna read this first, a little backstory for ya🤷🏾‍♀️

Warning: Ransom is lowkey an asshole, bad flirting, swear words 😓

Summary: You finally let rich boy Ran take you out. Let's hope he doesn't ruin his chances… [ 🤣 ]

⋆

Nobody's POV

When you and Ransom arrived to location of the party, it was a big white house illuminated by the floor lights leading to the door.

You just stared in awe. You weren't used to this. Not big parties or being surrounded by loads of rich people. Just staying in with Jake trying to make your way down the watchlist. You never would've guessed you'd be here in front of this modern mansion, with this super fine rich guy in the seat next to you.

"What are you thinkin' about?"

You were pulled back to reality. You turned your head to face him.

"Nothing." You deadpanned. You couldn't let this cocky bastard find out you were nervous. "Let's go."

You quickly got out of the car, being careful not to roll your ankle over the gravel in your heels and made your way to the door, Ransom following closely behind.

When you reached the door, Ransom leaned forward to knock and rested his other hand on the small of your back.

As you waited by the door, he started to rub your back.

"You sure you're okay, gorgeous?" He pulled you closer to him by your waist. You sighed trying to think up something to say but you were saved by the bell. The door abruptly opened to reveal a slightly disheveled redhead.

Her auburn hair was littered with thin braids and there was a dark brown eyeshadow clouding her kind, green eyes.

She looked to Ransom first, subtly squinting her eyes at him before greeting him. "Ransom." Clearly they had met before... Then she turned to look at you.

"Hi, pretty!" She held out her hand for you to shake, "What's your name?"

"Y/N." You took her hand and the coldness of her rings tickled your skin.

"Wanda, nice to meet you." She winked.

Y/N POV

She invited the two of us inside of the spacious estate and the loud pop music flooded my ears and vibrated my head. Looking around, seeing designer jewellery and old money, I became hyper aware of my surroundings. I began to feel inferior, not good enough to be here. I could feel my heart beating out of my chest and my eyes darted around frantically until they landed on the open bar across the living room.

I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding in, tugging Ransom by his arm to whisper in his ear, "I'm going to the bar, find me there later." You looked to Wanda, "excuse me." And left for the bar.

⋆

Making your way to the bar you set your eyes on the last free bar stool and started to make your way to it, but just before you could get to it, someone swiftly sat there instead, causing you sto stumble slightly backward.

You cleared your throat in annoyance, "Uhm, excuse me.."

The person who took your seat turned around slowly with a slight smirk on his face. He had curly, dark brown hair and piercing blue eyes.

"Oh, I'm sorry, were you going to sit here?" He looked up at you, the flirtation evident in his tone.

"Yes. I was." You replied, matter-of-factly.

"Well, I'm sorry princess, but I can't give it up." You furrowed your brows, "I was here first." He stayed smiling and shrugging.

You figured you had no time for bullshit tonight; so you turned around ready to walk away, you guessed you'd just have to find a drink elsewhere but he grabbed grabbed your wrist before I could get anywhere.

"Oh- wait!" What now?

Y/N POV

When I turned around, he had long wiped that smirk right off of his face, it had now been replaced with a sincere apologetic look.

"I- I'm sorry if I came off as an asshole." He sighed. "I was trying to flirt..."

Wow, flattering.

"Yeah well, nice job, Romeo," I retorted.

His brows scrunched together, but he smiled at my joke.

He started to pull me closer by my wrist, "I just wanted an excuse to talk to you, I guess. You're very beautiful."

You felt your face grow hot, he was so smooth with it. He had managed to push you away and reel you right back in within minutes and you were most definitely falling for it.

"Thank you." You giggled at his compliment.

"What's your name?"

You told him your name.

"Well. Beautiful name for a beautiful woman." He winked and you snickered.

"Wow, never heard that one before."

He chuckled before standing up. He must have been around 6 feet. "Have my seat, princess."

⋆

Nobody’s POV

You and this charming stranger began to talk and the conversation was flowing effortlessly. You had learned his name, Carter, and the fact that though this was his party, it was his parent's house. He just wanted to host here because it's much bigger than his loft in New York.

You had soon taken a liking to Carter. Though he was cocky and the beginning, you came to find out he was just trying to flirt and in reality he was quite sweet.

Inevitably though, your relaxed conversation was soon interrupted when a heavy hand suddenly landing on your shoulder mid sentence. Ransom.

"Ransom!" The brunette exclaimed. "How are you, man? It's so good to see you." Ransom must be pretty well known.

The two men shook hands firmly as Ransom suspiciously looked between you and Carter before replying to Carter's greeting.

"So, what are we talking about?" Ransom huffed.

⋆

You slumped into the passenger seat of Ransoms BMW, rolling your eyes as he awkwardly scratched the back of his neck.

See, when he came over to you and Carter, you expected the two of them to start conversing about rich man activities like boats or golf or something, but instead Ransom thought it would be a good idea to pick a fight and accuse Carter of flirting with his girl.

"For the record, big-head, I am not your girl. Don't get it twisted."

He just sighed looking on at the road and gripping the steering wheel, "Okay but, he's.., he's not man enough for you, not good enough. He's recently 20, practically a kid. I'm comin' up 27, I can provide."

You sarcastically mouthed, "wow." to yourself as he rattled on about how much better he is

"Well, what kind of woman do you take me for thinkin I'm gonna run off with some other guy when I'm supposed to be your date to the party." You turned to look at him, your eyes shooting daggers.

"I'm sorry." He momentarily looked down. He could be an asshole sometimes but he seemed genuinely sorry.

His vintage beemer came to a slow outside of you and Jake's shared, little house,

"So... we going to your place or should we go to mine?" he furrowed his brows trying to convince you with that stupid, sexy little smirk. You just laughed to yourself in disbelief.

"You know what you can just drop me right here, thanks Ransom." you replied sweetly, trying not to break. You swiftly got out of the car, trying not to roll your ankle on the concrete and made your way to the door.

"Well, I'll see you later?" He called out.

You yelled back, "Don't hold your breath, Ran."

⋆

A/N: welp. Ransom is being a dick. shock horror🤷🏾‍♀️. (somebody give me motivation and ideas).

[georgiapeach30513]

I’m Not Supposed to Play with Boys

Summary:  Ransom always gets what he wants.  Even if he has to wait.

Pairings:  Ransom Drysdale X Reader

Rating:  Explicit

Warnings:  explicit language, explicit sexual content, (step) dad’s best friend, smut, PIV sex, unprotected sex, age gap, dirty talk, D/s dynamics, degradation, teasing, edging, female masturbation/humping, fingering, finger in mouth, humiliation, body writing, oral sex (M receiving), daddy kink, voyeurism, 18+ ONLY

Word Count:  3.6K

Ransom Drysdale Masterlist

Your dad looks at the rear view mirror.  Watching your face as the car looms ever closer to the Thrombey estate.  You try to remain neutral in your thoughts as more and more of the animal statues come into view.  Counting each one because the closer they were, the closer you got to the mansion.  And you hope that the person you had been longing to see was there.  

Your dad sighs, and you look at the reflection of his cobalt eyes, “Ransom is going to be here today, and I expect you to be on your best behavior.”

“You’re not my real dad, and I’m not a child.”

“You are visiting from college, and this is my friend’s family home,” his voice gets a bit more of an edge to it, and you roll your eyes.  He was so predictable.  Expected perfection from you.  Because you reflected on him.

“Honey, just listen to your dad,” your mom yawns, pushing her seat back, and closing her eyes.  There wasn’t even that much further to go, and she was already sleepy from who knows what.  Your step-father rolls his eyes as the creepy estate comes into view, but that pretty little Beemer was nowhere insight.  

“Do you think Linda would mind me taking a nap?” Your mom pets on his arm, and you feel like getting sick.  She was more of a friend than a mother.  She had you when she couldn’t even legally drive.  It was like the two of you had grown up together.  And sometimes you wondered if she was still trying to sew her wild oats.

He slowly removes his foot from the accelerator, throwing the car into park, “I’m going to see if they need any help in the kitchen,” you jump out before he could say anything.  He was going to wait outside with the family, while your mother took her ‘nap’.  You were going to wait where you could hopefully see that Beemer drive up.  They didn’t need help in the kitchen.  Everything was already outside.  But you did exactly what Ransom had asked you to.  And now you wait.

——

Ransom spots his best friend’s car, and gets a big grin on his face.  He was told that you were home from Harvard.  He doesn’t waste time saying his hellos, he needs a snack.  From the kitchen.  Into the house he walks, and straight into the kitchen.  He must have been quieter than he had thought.  You hadn’t noticed him.

Your back is to him, and he notices slow little movements forward.  Right at the table.  A soft little whimper is music to his ears.  He opens up a cabinet for a packet of cookies, and you push off the table, “What cha doing?” He looks all the way down your body before meeting your stare with an arrogant grin.

“N-n-nothing,” you answer quickly.  Smoothing down your dress as you look at anything that wasn’t him.  You have never been more embarrassed in your life.

“Looked like you were humping the edge of the table.  Where you fucking my grandpa’s table?” You shake your head no, starting to retreat out of the kitchen.  “Wait.  I’m not finished talking to you.  If I happen to lift that little skirt of yours am I going to see that pretty pussy wet?”

“Um…no,” why was him embarrassing you like that making you more heated?  Why was there a fresh gush of your juices to your core at the sound of his voice?

“Be a good girl, and lift up your skirt.  Come on, I wanna see.  Just wanna know if you’re still a desperate little slut for me,” slowly you lift up your skirt, and indeed the cotton gusset of your panties are darkened with your slick.  “You were saying?” He chuckles, looking back up at you.

“I’m sorry, Ransom.  I…”

“Oh, sweet little princess, what made you so weak in the knees?  What’s got you all needy and grinding on that old table?”

Your eyes drift down to the floor, and your cheeks heat up in flames.  He was going to make you say it, and you couldn’t.  You mustn’t.  “You know who.”

“Yeah, but that crush was a couple of years ago.  You can’t still have a thing for little ole me, right?”

“I — I had sex like you asked.  I’ve got experience now,” your voice is desperate when you try to tell Ransom that you followed his rules for you when you graduated.  You followed his instructions perfectly.  Listened to every word.  “I…”

“And you’re still a needy fucking thing.  What is that you want?  You want to suck my fat cock?”

“Yes!  Please!” Ransom’s mouth turns up into a devilish smirk.  Lifting his hand up, he curls his finger, beckoning you to him.  

You get almost to him, but he backs away, “No, no.  Show me what you were doing just a minute ago.  But hold your skirt up.  I wanna watch.  Show me how you get off when you think of me,” you gulp deeply as you walk back to the edge of the table.  Lifting up your skirt when you settle yourself on the mahogany.  Your lips spread over the wood, and it touches right on your clit, and you start grinding on it.

“There ya go.  I bet that feels good on your desperate little cunt, hmm?  You thinking of my cock splitting you open?”

“Yeah,” whining as you grind down even harder.

“Fucking you so hard that your head is pounding on headboard.”

“Yeah.  Yes!”

“Have you screaming out ‘Fuck me harder, daddy,” your hips race your forward.  Getting so close that you're panting out his name.  Getting just right to edge, when Ransom places his hands on your shoulders and pushes you off the table, “I didn’t say you could come, you greedy little slut.  Now let’s see how wet you are,” he shoves his fingers into your panties, and you moan when he gathers up your slick.

Holding out his hand, he stretches his fingers out, letting you see just how sticky and wet the mess in your panties is.  Smiling at his fingers before he presses them past your lips, “Be a good girl, and clean me off,” closing your mouth around his fingers, you suck yourself off him.  Circling your tongue around his thick digits.  Almost creaming your panties when you hear him moan.

“Now, let's go say hey to your dad.  I’m sure a good handshake covered in your juices is just what he needs.  Stay wet and messy,” he walks out, leaving you alone and uncomfortable with how wet you are.  Nothing left to do but follow him outside.  

——

Ransom smirks at you from across the lawn.  He has been having a steady conversation with your dad, but his eyes are always on you.  He knows how uncomfortably soaked you are, and he finds it hilarious.  It is a game to him to lick his lips, and readjust himself.  Waiting until you were swishing your thighs together when you see his thick girthy cock in his palm.  It was unfair.

Grunting, you stomp back inside.  Needing to get something to drink.  Who knew, maybe even taking a cold shower.  Anything had to be better than what Ransom was doing to you.  And the worst part was he knew!  He knew that he was driving you crazy.

“Did I make you mad, Princess?”

“You’re making me crazy!  I’m soaked, and I’m horny, and you knew.  You knew what you were doing when…”

“You don’t like me teasing you?” Crossing your arms over your chest, you shake your head no.  Ransom looks you up and down as he steadily walks closer to you.  Getting right in front of you when he leans to your ear.  Sniffing up the side of your neck.  His breath on you went straight to your core as more slick floods your underwear, “Get on your knees.”

“What?” What was his game?  What did he want from you?

“Get on your knees, and suck my cock, Princess.  It’s hard and waiting on your filthy little mouth.  Get on your knees now,” turning around, you can see the party going on outside.  He wasn’t serious.  The window was right there.  Your dad was right there.  With a view straight inside to you and Ransom.  

“You want my cock?  Well, here it is,” you look down between the two of you and his pretty cock is the only thing separating you.  Beads of precum at the tip making it look all glistening and pretty, and you crave to taste it.  

His thumb rubs over his slit, smearing his leaking juices over his thumb, and he paints the liquid on your lips, “Suck.  My.  Cock,” slowly you sink to your knees, kissing up his protruding vein, “As much as I would like for you to take your time, we do have an audience out there.  You wouldn’t want daddy to see me fucking your pretty little face, would you?”

“Uh-uh,” you whine as he pushes his length into your mouth.  You hollow out your cheeks, and grip the back of his thighs.  Rolling your eyes up to look at him.  His hand pets over your neck a moment before he starts thrusting into you.  You let him take control.  Allowing him to use your mouth as his personal fuck toy.

He holds tightly to your head as he fucks into you.  His eyes moving from your pretty face, stuffed with him, and then out to the guests outside, “Have you seen my daughter?” Your dad yells.  You try to scurry away, but Ransom holds you tighter.  His pelvis propelling into you more.

“No.  I think she had an upset stomach.  Maybe she’s been stuffing her mouth full,” Ransom snorts.  Casually talking to your dad while he drives into you.  He glances back down to you.  Your weight had settled on one of his feet, and while he was fucking your face, you were grinding on his foot like a bitch in heat.

“You think daddy can hear you gagging?  You think he knows that you're drooling for my cock?” You whimper, holding onto him tighter.  Undulating your hips, and soaking his foot with your arousal.  You are dripping wet.  Needy and ready to come.  Sputtering around his member, your drool leaks down your neck.  “You filthy little slut couldn’t wait for me to fuck one of her holes, could she?  You gonna be my little slut?  You gonna call me daddy instead?”

“Mhmm,” he pulls himself out of your mouth, and you gasp for air.  Your lungs sting as oxygen rushes to fill them up.  His cock slaps across your face, and you don't understand.

“Say it.  Call me daddy.  Tell me how bad you want my cock.  Even though I feel that sloppy cunt throbbing on my foot.  I need to hear you say it.”

“Daddy, I want you to fuck my face.  Need you to come in my throat?” Grabbing your head, he crams himself back into your mouth.  Stabbing into you so fast.  So deep he was making your throat bulge out.  And your body hunger for more air.

“Daddy’s gonna give it to you.  Almost there.  Gotta hurry.  Can’t let anyone see you being my pretty little slut.  Taking this big fat cock like a good girl.  Uh!  Uh!  Oh!” His head tilts back, and his load shoots into the back of your throat.  You moan at the salty musk that is Ransom.  Your hips fuck down on him harder.  Getting right there…

“I still didn’t tell you to come,” he meanly states, pushing you off him.

“Ransom!  That’s not fair!  I want to come, too.”

“What did you call me?”

“Daddy!”

“Oh, sweetheart,” his voice is so patronizing as he lifts your skirt, “Spread your legs.  Let daddy see what a pitiful little pussy this is,” you do as you're told, and he moves your panties aside.  Staring at your pulsing cunt with a smile.  “Pitiful,” he lets a drip of his spit drop onto your pussy, and you moan at the cool sensation.  

“What’s going on?” Your dad’s shadow falls into the kitchen, and over Ransom’s back, and you slap your hands over your skirt, covering yourself up.

“Oh, she fell,” Ransom says quickly.  Nodding to your dad as Ransom offers his hand down to him.  “I think maybe she should lay down somewhere.  She was acting a bit delirious.”

Your dad looks between the two of you, clearly not believing a word that either of you had said, “You’ll miss the fireworks.”

“I’ve seen fireworks before.  Ransom is right, dad, I just don’t feel right.  Must be all the excitement today.”

“Go upstairs, third door on the left.  There’s a window that you’ll be able to see all the fireworks,” you give him a nod as you walk up the stairs slowly.  “Is everything okay?” Ransom asks with a smirk.  He caught him spitting into your cunt.  He knows his friend saw you all spread out for him.

“She fell, huh?” He asks.  His eyes darkening as he walks closer.  Looking down at the floor to see a wet spot.  You were messy.

“Yep,” Ransom answers, popping his p.  He holds his hands out shrugging, “I don’t know what to tell you.  Your daughter is clumsy.  She tends to make a mess, too.  Did you know she was a messy little thing?”

“She’s not my real daughter,” he had to add that little bit of information.  Had to let Ransom know when he was looking at you, it was okay.

“Yeah, but you did really marry her mom.  Maybe you should go outside, daddy-o.  Isn’t your wife finally awake?” He shakes his head no, starting to walk back out.  Flinging his head towards the door.  Wanting Ransom to follow.  He had no such plans.  He was going to fuck you during these fireworks.  “Are you that lonely that you need me with you?”

“Are you?” His eyebrow cocks up, “Do you need me with you?”

“Touché.  Listen, I don’t want to be crass, but…”

“She fell, huh?  Is she going to fall again?”

“Yep.  Fall right on my dick.”

——

“You ready to come, Princess?  I got the perfect seat for you to enjoy your fireworks.  Look at this seat daddy prepared for you,” Ransom fists his cock a few times as you walk closer to him.  “There ya go.  You gonna show daddy what you learned in school?  I’m sure Harvard is all boring, but what did those boys teach you in your dorm?”

“I want you to fuck me, though,” tonight was all about you doing all the work.  You wanted nothing more than for Ransom to take advantage of you.  Didn’t care if everyone could hear you screaming.  You wanted him.

“Oh, Princess, this first time I want you to show daddy what those silly college boys taught you.  Sit on my lap.  Let daddy stretch you out,” taking a deep breath, you walk over to Ransom.  Straddling his legs, you grab the base of his cock, and run it through your slit.  

Looking into Ransom’s eyes, you slowly sink down over him, biting at your lip.  None of the boys from school felt like him.  None of them looked like him.  And when you sink balls deep on him, you know that none of them have ever been that deep.  Couldn’t even wish to reach the depths that Ransom did, “Daddy!”

“I know, Princess.  Daddy has such a big cock.  You just sit like that until your pussy doesn’t hurt anymore.  I got her all stretched out, huh?” You nod your head as you bite your lip.  Overwhelmed because you finally feel Ransom.  Finally have him inside of you.  Something you have dreamed about for years.  “You feel me in your belly, honey?”

“Yeah.  But it feels good.”

“Yeah it does.  You gonna let me cum in this tight little pussy?  You are so pretty when you’re a mess,” you slowly start to grind over Ransom.  Getting a better feel of him before you start to bounce on top of him.  Letting your pussy suck him right back in as deep as you could take him.  “Your titties do look pretty bouncing in my face.”

Fireworks boom outside the window, but you only see Ransom.  His mouth chases your tits, just so he can give your buds a nibble.  “Daddy!”

“I know, Princess.  Daddy wouldn’t let you come earlier today, because it makes you that much more needy.  It hasn’t been that long, and I feel your pussy fluttering around me.  My god, I don’t even think I can last.”

BOOM, “Daddy!”

“Tell me what you need, Princess.  Let daddy give it to you.”

BOOM!  POP!  “Daddy!”

“You keep getting louder.  They can’t hear you.  Tell daddy what you want.”

“Daddy!  I wanna come!  Daddy, let me come!”

“Your daddy will make sure you come,” Andy steps up behind you, those thick arms wrapping around your stomach.  One hand spreads your lips further apart, while the other starts making tight circles over your clit.  “Does my sweet girl wanna come?”

“Yes!  Daddy, I wanna come!”

“Woah, woah.  I’m daddy, and this is my princess,” Ransom pouts up at his best friend.  He knew letting Andy watch was a bad idea.  Sick bastard.

“Daddy is gonna help you come,” Andy moans, while you continue to ride Ransom, Andy has got you feeling like you're flying.  Overstimulated, and then he starts to kiss along your neck, while Ransom starts sucking on your tit.  His other hand rolls your nipples between his fingers.  Everything felt good.  Every part of you feels so fucking good.  Your skin is buzzing with euphoria.  “Go on, Princess.  Come.  Daddy’s gonna let you come.”

“Daddy!” You scream as your leg starts trembling.  “Daddy!  Daddy I’m coming!  I’m coming!”  

“Fuck, Andy, she’s got me in a vice grip.  Squeezing me so fucking hard.  There, baby.  Keep riding daddy, yeah!  Fuck yeah!” You moan as Ransom spurts creamy ribbons of his thick cum deep into your core.  Your walls pulse around him, milking every bit of his spend out on him.  “Fuck me!”

“I believe she just did.  Princess, you okay?” You get a dopey smile on your face, whispering yes.  “That was incredible.  How long have you two been fucking?”

“Just this once, Andy.  Now, I let you play with your daughter a bit, but why don’t you let me clean her up.  You’re married.  Don’t need to be fucking your daughter anyways.”

“Quit calling her my daughter!  She’s not my real daughter,” your eyes start to slowly close as you let your high wash over you.  You had him.  He was still in you.  He had filled you up, and it feels so fucking good.

“You’re just saying that because you want to fuck her.  You,” both men stop when you get up, and lay on the bed on your back.  “Princess, why don’t you spread your legs,” your eyes fully close, and you spread your legs.  Putting your gaping cunt on display for both men.  

They stare at your pretty and stretched out channel, and when Ransom's cum starts to leak out, they both gasp.  “My god if that isn’t the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“She’s on birth control.  Her mom was scared she was sleeping around too much in college.  Let me guess, that was your doing?”

“Yeah, I don’t do virgins.  They get attached too easily.  Plus, I had her riding daddy’s cock like her life depended on it.  Could you see how deep she took me from your angle?”

“Yes,” Andy rolls his eyes.  “Saw you destroying her pussy.”

“Just wait until I fuck her.  Mmm, my cock is getting hard again.  If you don’t want to see me fuck your daughter in her sleep, I suggest you leave now.  Because I’m going to fuck that slut right into the mattress.  It’s too soon to share her.  You were supposed to just watch.”

Andy Barber never just watches.  He would fuck you too.  He’d make Ransom watch as he pounds into you.  Instead of going to you, Ransom grabs up a pen, “What are you doing?”

“Reminding her,” he says, scribbling ‘obedient’ on one inner thigh.  ‘Good girl’ written on the other.  “Princess, who owns your pussy?”

“You do, daddy.  That’s daddy’s pussy,” Ransom looks back at his friend with a smile.  “It’s all daddy’s.  Whenever daddy wants it.”

“Daddy’s cumdump?”

“Uh huh,” you smile as he writes cumdump on your belly.

“Daddy's pretty little cum princess.”

“Yep,” Andy stomps out of the room, making sure to slam the door.  And you pout up at Ransom.

“He’s just jealous that I’m going to pump you so full of cum, you won’t know what to do with yourself.  My pretty little princess cumslut.”

“Just daddy’s.”

“Unless daddy wants to share?”

“Unless daddy wants to share,” oh Ransom is going to have too much fun with you.  His personal little sex toy.  One he was going to have a lot of fun playing with.  And showing off.  His little fuckdoll that wanted him to do whatever he wanted.  And he would.  “Daddy, I’m sleepy.”

“You want daddy to hold you while you take a nap?” Nodding your head, you make grabby hands up at Ransom, and he crawls into the bed beside you.  “Okay, get some sleep, Princess.  You gotta be rested, so I can fuck you, right?”

“Right.  Shh.”

“I know.  Sleep.  Dream.  And I’ll be right here.”

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season​ @marveloustaylortot​ @pono-pura-vida​ @sstan-hoe​ @missusbarnes-rogers​ @peaches1958​ @seitmai​ @smile1318​ @andydrysdalerogers​ @cjand10​ @midnightramyeoncravings​ @maroonsunrise83​ @donutloverxo​ @whiskeytangofoxtrot555​ @bambamwolf87​ @harrysthiccthighss​

[buck-star]

His cookie | R.D

>> You're not the best baker, neither is Ransom. Luckily it doesn't matter because you're his favortie cookie anyway. <<

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

Wordcount: 1.157 Words

Warnings: fluff, idiots in love, some allusion of sexual wording, petnames [princess, cookie]

Authors Note: Christmas themed oneshot, since | haven't written for Ransom in a while, here he is, our knitted hoodie cookie monster. Divider made by me.

Events: December Daze Challenge [baking together but neither know what you're doing l @the-slumberparty], Fluffy Winter Event [Best Friends to lovers | baking]

Masterlist | Ransom Drysdale Masterlist

“Ran, no— no, that— no,” you mumble, trying to hide your smile when Ransom holds up the butter. Or at least half of it, because he just dropped the other half in the eggs. “That doesn’t work like that now. They said three eggs—“

You hold up the book of recipes, showing it to Ransom so he can see the exact amount of ingredients you should add. Your finger slides over the side, pointing to where it’s written down. Your best friend leans over the counter to read where your finger lays, shaking his head slightly.

He’s still using half of the butter in his hands, grumbling. “But it also said butter and flour!” Ransom turns his head to look into the bowl with the eggs, flour, and half of the butter.

The two of you should definitely ask someone to help you or even make the cookies so you only had to eat them. But Ransom and you are both sure that you can make them yourself, maybe with some practice, but it should work to make some easy baking tasks.

“No— Yes, but no. It says that we need butter and flour, but first we need the eggs and—“ Ransom interrupts you when he smashes the butter down on the kitchen counter.

“Punch them.” He smirks, looking into the bowl where the flour is already mixed with the eggs and half of the butter. “Guess we need to pick out the eggs— or the flour and the butter?”

“We do not punch eggs, Ran,” you laugh, your stomach already hurting from all the laughing with your best friend. Maybe you’re not the best baker, but you could work as a comedian. Maybe as a comedian who bakes cookies or tries to bake them and mixes the ingredients before the egg is in its perfect shape. “They just need to be—“

“Hard. You know— I know other things that could be covered in white stuff and could be hard, too. You can cover it in flour and butter, but that would be messy,” Ransom explains, nodding down at his crotch. You chuckle and roll your eyes playfully at him.

“Now, be serious; we have to get the eggs fluffy, foamy, whatever you want to call it. You have to be able to take the bowl, hold it above your head, and turn it around without the egg spilling anywhere,” you say, walking around the corner to stand next to Ransom.

He grins at you, one of his calloused hands reaching out to pull the bowl closer, looking at the ingredients. For a moment he looks thoughtful, like he’s considering the options you have to make the egg fluffy, but knowing it doesn’t work with the other stuff in it already.

“So, how about we just throw it away and make the dough again or we buy cookies?” Ransom suggests, his blue eyes moving from the bowl with the ingredients to you. He studies you for a moment before his gaze slides back to the bowl. When you just look at him with a smirk on your lips, he grumbles and shakes his head. “What? You want me to separate the flour and butter instead?”

You laugh softly; the thought of him sitting down with bowls and trying to seperate just the flour, just the eggs, and the butter was pretty funny. Especially considering that the flour and eggs are already pretty mixed together. “As funny and entertaining as that would be, I think we should just try and make the dough without the eggs being like they want them. It should turn into dough and cookies anyway, I guess.”

“I love you, but I don't trust you with that anymore,” Ransom mumbles under his breath. He then nods and sighs softly, turning around to stand with his back against the counter. He looks thoughtful for a moment before his eyes roam over your face once again. “Okay, let's try to turn those not fluffy eggs into dough.”

With a soft chuckle, you nod toward the bowl, and Ransom growls low in his throat. He looks at you with narrowed eyes, but when you don't budge, he growls once again, rolling up the sleeves of his knitted sweater. He slowly reveals his muscular forearms with the prominent veins running along them.

“Drooling, aren't you, cookie? That's why you want me to touch this disgusting, slippery stuff here,” he says before kneading the ingredients to turn them into dough. You add a few more things every now and then, letting Ransom knead it the whole time while he mutters how wet and disgusting it feels to have the egg stuck around his fingers.

After a while, the two of you manage to get the dough done; it's finally in the oven, and you sit with your back against the counter to watch them growing in the warmth. In your hands you have a hot chocolate, or two, because Ransom is currently looking through some of the counters.

“What are you looking for?” You ask with a chuckle, watching your best friend intensely. He shakes his head, looking through another counter before he finds what he’s looking for. He turns back to you, hiding whatever it is behind his back while he sits down next to you in front of the oven.

“Close your eyes,” he mumbles, waiting for you to do as he says. You lean forward, placing the cups in front of you between your slightly spread legs, and close your eyes, turning your face toward him. “Now, open up, princess.”

You part your lips, listening to Ransom fumbling with some wrapping paper. A soft giggle escapes your lips as he sighs heavily. “Need help to open it?”

“No, now open up,” he says with a chuckle, bringing something to your lips. Before you have it completely in your mouth, you already know what it is — Ransom's favorite cookies. He pushes it halfway between your lips, bringing two of his fingers underneath your chin to lift it up and make you press your lips together.

Before you can say anything else, you feel Ransom's warm breath against your soft skin, and you. His lips are only inches away from yours as he brings his lips around the other half of the cookie.

“Wanted to do that for so long already, cookie,” he mumbles, biting as carefully as he can into the cookie until it's breaking and he can press his lips against yours. A soft sigh falls from your lips as you bring your hands around his neck to pull him closer. “Wanted to wait until our cookies were ready but couldn't focus on anything but you and your lips on mine, my princess. You're the sweetest, cookie.”

His lips press against yours once again, the cookies forgotten, because nothing tastes as sweet as you, and he would rather stop eating his cookies than stop kissing you.

Taglist: @rogersbarber @loki-laufeyson68 @etherealdisneyvillainness @winterschildren8 @pono-pura-vida @kimmie113080 @sergeantbarnessdoll @sebastianstanisahotmf @mercurial-chuckles @holylulusworld @randomawesomeperson102 @looking1016 @multiversefanfics @blackhawkfanatic @armystay89 add yourself.

[lanabuckybarnes]

| Pay Up |

18+ MINORS DNI

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

✧Pairing ✧ Lloyd Hansen x Reader x Ransom Drysdale

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

✧Word Count✧ 1.9k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wow feisty” he laughed and you scoffed.

“Leave me alone Lloyd.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No” he spat “just having a look.”

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

“Oh piss off Ransom.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Good girl.”

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

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

Thanks for reading~

[chrisevansispapi]

Squabble

Warning: arguing,some love languages are shown,implied smut.

Summary: Reader and Ransom has a new home and they want a baby to come along with it

——

When we arrived to the driveway, Me and Gideon slowly came out and saw the beautiful home, “Everybody’s waiting inside even Giddy’s nanny”Ransom informed me,as he carried the bags and still managed to open up the front door.

We got inside seeing the spacious and will lit foyer,Ransom gave the bags to the staff, Gideon slowly woke up from the bright lights of the chandelier.

“Morning Gideon!”Ransom picked up his son and got ahold of your hand, “Daddy,Momma…nice wayts(lights)” Ranskm lead me to the master bedroom,which was amazing,there was a walk-in closet where all my clothes went and Ranny’s too.

Ransom was trying to make the little boy laugh, “you want a little sister?” Ransom tickled Giddy, “you want a black eye?” I said mocking his tone,Gideon laughed at me and his daddy’s banter, “Giddy can’t even speak properly yet,think about babies when he can talk,alright?” I grab Gideon from him and took a tour around the house.

———

I was now in Ransom's SF90 on the way to the mall, “Can you just take into consideration a new cutesy baby in the new house?”Ransom drove to the parking lot, “Giddy is still a baby,Ransom… He’ll get jealous” I got out of the car and so did Ransom.

Ransom slammed the car door and turnt around,I walked with him in silence, “Let’s go to Baby Gap” I spoke out,breaking the unbearable silence, “okay”Ransom turned to his phone.

“That’s it? You’re being mean because I’m not ready for another child?—fine,I’ll go on my own,if you want to give me petty silent treatment” I walked into Baby Gap leaving him.

Baby Gap was so colorful and filled with every animal prints, reminded me of Gideon, I grabbed everything I wanted to put on Giddy and paid for it with Ransom's AmEx card.

My phone rang and it was Giddy’s nanny on facetime, “Sonia…Hi,What’s wrong?” I asked her, “Mrs.Drysdale,Gideon is not eating or drinking milk” Sonia was showing me Gideon who was crying his throat out. “I’m on my way,Sonia—Don’t worry” I hung up and ran as fast as I can to Ransom.

“Giddy’s crying non stop and not eating,let’s go” We ran to the car and drove 90 m/h.

———

I was now holding Gideon’s still panting body, “shh mommy’s here” I rub his back as his eyelids were now falling down, I lay him down on mine and Ransom's bed, "sleep tight" I tucked him in the duvet.

"That's why I don't want another one just yet,Can you handle two of that?" I was now sitting on the bed,Ransom just looked at me with his puppy dog eyes, "Come here" I pat down beside me, He sat down plopping his bulky body on the bed, I lie down beside him.

I draped my arm over his shirtless body, "Soon, just not now, a'ight?" I kiss his cheek, "Hmm" He cups my face with his one hand and presses his lips on mine.

"let's go have some fun in the office" Ransom winks at me, "mmmkay" I kiss him one more time before calling Sonia to watch Gideon in Our room.

[ladylaviniya]

This was SO DANG HOT AND CRAZY and I'm sobbing because fuck the last few paragraphs have me so badly on the edge of my seat. I cant find part 2 and this fic was written in 2022 🥺 😭 FUCK I NEED THAT HATE GANGBANG IN THE PUMPKIN PATCH MAZE. I think I'm gonna need to reread this fic because every bit is so damn good!

The spice was so hot and tangy, I need some milk to calm me down. It's so heart palpitating.

³¹.⍭ 𝐊𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐚 (𝟏/𝟐)

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 | Major Crossover—ghostface!boyfriends!: Ari Levinson, Steve Rogers, Curtis Everett, Ransom Drysdale x cheater!reader

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | SOFT DARK themes and elements, cheating, revenge, obsessive/possessive behaviour, jealousy, competition, size difference: all 6’7-6’9, manhandling, manipulation, coercion. SMUT - minors DNI, NON-CON/DUB-CON: they’re all wearing the same mask & reader doesn’t know who it is, oral (m & f), balls sucking, fingering (f), dirty talk, chase kink, daddy kink, p*ssyjob, size kink, spit kink, choking, p*ssy spanking, exhibitionism (public sex), degradation, dumbification, ruined kink, overstimulation, squirting, creampie.

𝗪/𝗖 | 8.23K

𝗔/𝗡 | happy Halloween !! hope you all had a spooky day, here is my last fic for spicy October, a finale with all our fave daddies. enjoy !! all mistakes are my own.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 & 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲: @𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲

𝐊𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐚 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | ˗ˏˋ𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟐 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭ˎˊ˗ ⋰˚ 𝐂.𝐄. & 𝐂𝐨. 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

“That was the money from my grandfather's will.” 

Curtis snorts, “as if you don’t have the cash to spare.” 

Ransom’s glare hardens, “It’s from my dead grandfather—I mean, my murdered grandfather. Am I not allowed to be upset that she stole money from my grandfather who was murdered in cold blood?”

“It isn’t stealing if you voluntarily spent it on her.” The other burnet countered, “I assume money is the only way you know how to show affection. Mommy and daddy didn’t know how to deal with you so they filled that emotional void with money, and you continue it in all your relationships. It’s a never-ending cycle.”

“At least I know my parents, orphan.”

Ari tunes them out, staring out the wide window into the night. The howling winds sway the forest surrounding the Thrombey mansion and the shadows bleed through the glass, covering him from head to toe in the same shade as his profound emptiness.

Three years. Three fucking years of his life gone to waste. 

Every time he blinks, he sees you from senior year. The beautiful, popular, high-achieving student who never looked his way, although he tried hundreds of times to get your attention. From playing his heart out on the football field when you were in the crowd, attempting—and failing—to be your partner for projects in classes you shared, and volunteering to help for events that you were organizing, one of those being your senior prom. The theme was an extravagant masquerade ball, strange for a year of rambunctious teenagers, but perfect for the elite private school. 

The venue was decorated in hues of vermillion, gold and grey, with speckles of white from the feathers and clear-beaded arrangements in the middle of each table. Sheer fabric and ribbon hung from the ceiling, draped low to mimic the magical atmosphere. Fairy lights glimmered alongside sparkling chandeliers, illuminating the ballroom in a warm yellow glow. Red roses, gold plates and vintage-styled candelabras sat atop black tablecloths and complemented the metallic chairs. 

During the few weeks of setting up the venue, his friends consistently poked fun because he was whipped for a girl he’s never spoken to. 

He broke that shameful streak the day before prom, and until today, that was the stupidest he’s ever felt. 

“Oh, I don’t have a date.” You answered after he asked what colours you and your date were going to wear. 

Ari’s face twisted in disbelief and utter confusion. The revelation scattered every organized thought, making him a total fool. “Why the fuck not?”

He’ll never forget the stunned expression on your face. 

“I mean—you’re really fucking pretty.” The words flew out like a swarm of wild bees, dancing in front of his horrified eyes, taunting him. 

You burst out laughing, throwing your head back and nearly toppling over one of the tables. “Well thanks, I’ve been asked a couple of times but none of them are my type. They’re all meatheads.” You finally caught your breath, soft giggles tumbling from your glossed lips. “Like the football team, ugh, just a bunch below-average, tit-brained idiots.”

Ari frowned deeply, “I’m on the football team.” He was positive you knew that, hell, you’ve organized fundraisers for the sports department. 

You grinned, “I know. But you’re actually cute when you’re dumb, way above average.” You patted his broad shoulder and walked away, the short uniform skirt swaying with each step. 

Ari remembers standing there like a moron before finally bolting after you. He caught up to you in the parking lot and asked you right then and there, almost dropping to his knees to beg when you took a second too long to answer. But you said yes, smiling so sweetly he could’ve died. 

“—the same day. The same fucking day! That has to be a record!” Curtis snarls, pointing a finger at Ransom, “and you were on a date too, so you can’t say shit about cheating, jackass.”

The playboy moves his hand with two fingers, nonchalantly shrugging. “I found someone I wanted to spend the night with, is that a crime?”

Curtis gritted his teeth, his shoulders rigid under his leather jacket, “I won her a ginormous bear and fingered her in the photo booth, and she was already fucking two other guys!”

“Dating. She was dating two other guys.” 

“Same shit!”

All this time, the second boyfriend has remained silent. Steve stares at his lock screen, a blurry photograph of the two of you the morning after a date at the pier. You’re half asleep but he wanted to commemorate the most perfect night of his life. 

He was convinced that he was the lead in a romantic film, and it all bloomed from his awful first impression. 

“Will you ever actually talk to me? Or will you just continue to stare at me from across the shop?” You smiled down at him, your skin glowing in the morning sun. “Here, you look like a cupcake kind of guy.”

A red velvet cupcake is placed in front of him, right next to his hand which had his pencil in a death grip. He quickly releases his hold and stares blankly at you, stunned and bewitched because he’s never seen you this close. Heavenly is the way he’d describe your features, each curve and dip of your face is burned into his brain from his endless sketches but at this moment, it feels like he’s seeing you for the first time. 

Since that day, he believed in love at first sight. Now? It’s up for debate. 

“Sit. I mean, please sit. Only if you want obviously.” He covers his red cheeks, not even bothering to shut his sketchbook. You already saw the dozens of drawings of you from various angles, all sprawled across the pages like they belonged there. “You know what? Never mind, I’ll go. I’m  sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable.” 

He was going to leave, pack up his things haphazardly and dash out of the coffee shop before embarrassment ate him alive, but you called him back. 

“I’ll stay, but only if you show me what else is in there.”

And he did, shyly at first but as the minutes dragged into hours, he got more confident and gave you detailed explanations of each piece. He rambled on and on about a sketch that took up two pages, it was an elderly couple watching the sunset on the beach, the waves crashing in the background as their heavily detailed silhouettes were in the foreground. He spoke as if he knew them when he was only a mere bystander to their love story. 

“I saw them almost every day that summer. On that same bench and holding hands.” He sipped his cold coffee, never breaking eye contact with you, “They’ve probably watched tons of sunsets in their lifetime, but it’s cute, y’know? That they still do… soft things like that.”

Steve was a nice guy. He was recklessly kind, tutored people in his class, and always helped his coach with pregame preparations. He donates all his old clothes and always asks owners before petting their dogs. 

If he was so good, why did bad things happen to him? Was it his fault? 

He kept pushing you to meet his family. In his defence, you’ve been dating for two years and he talks about you nonstop, his parents have been begging to meet the girl who has their son’s heart, and praised him for finding the one so early on. 

It’s a shame that the one was never his to begin with. 

The worst part of all of this wasn’t the cheating—well, it was, but the other worse part was your blatant dismissal for taking the next step in your relationship. You’ve met their families, you were very close with Ari’s and met Curtis’ and Ransom’s who you’ve only been dating for less than a year. 

What was so different about his? 

“Cheap fucking slut.” Ransom mutters. “She’s so greedy that she needs four cocks.” 

“Hey, watch your mouth.” Steve frowns, “She’s still my girlfriend.” 

Curtis bites his tongue and swallows whatever snide remark was on the verge of spilling out. As much as it hurt, he knew where they were both coming from. He hated your guts, yet the masochist part of himself admired your bulletproof nerve and capability, and the other much softer part was still madly in love with you. 

He prided himself in being observant, reading people like open books and anticipating their words and actions so that he was always prepared—that’s why he knows how to push Ransom’s buttons. It didn’t take a genius to notice how stuck up and spoiled the brat was. He couldn’t believe how you put up with him. 

How you got away with this for so long was a wonder. Whether it was by sheer luck or cautious scheming, you played them all like puppets, pulling their strings however you pleased for the grand production. The success came with applause and satisfaction, it boosted your ego and made them into fools. 

Don’t even get him started on your fucking friends who probably worshipped you for your stellar performance, praising you for dancing on their hearts with false innocence. Curtis has met them and only now he can recall the mischievous twinkle in their eyes, he would bet that they downgraded him to a pathetic nickname like boyfriend number three. 

He would’ve noticed something sooner if you didn’t have him pussy drunk every time he saw you. He’ll admit it—he’s whipped. 

You may be a good-for-nothing cheater, but you were his fucking pornstar. 

He supposes that’s the thing about pornstars, they surely got around. 

Curtis wouldn’t openly admit it to the rest of the guys—his girlfriend’s other boyfriends—but if you called him right now and asked him to come over, he’d be on his motorcycle in the blink of an eye. You were a twisted, disgustingly hot mastermind who could spit in his face and choke him, and yet, he’d still dick you down. He was into that freaky shit anyway. 

Of course, as much as he pretended, he wasn’t all tough. Under that steel demeanour, he’s aching, battered with betrayal and fears of inadequacy. 

Grey clouds loomed over that island of self-doubt, a place all four of them have since sailed to and made home, sharing their confusion, anger and grief. 

All of this mess started from simple curiosity. Ari recognized a little lacy thing in one of his fraternity brothers’ rooms, and lo and behold, it was your panties, the same ones he bought you a few months prior. 

“Oh, oops. My girl left those in my pocket.” Curtis chuckles and waltzes in, dropping his skateboard by the closet. He’s wearing that signature black beanie and carrying that smell of cigarettes and mint gum. “She’s so cheeky, huh?”

Ari doesn’t acknowledge him at first. His fingers feel around the fabric before hooking in a hole by the band, and then his heart stops. 

The other brunet watches strangely, “Uh, can I have those back?”

Perhaps any other person in a fit of confused rage would’ve wrapped their hands around Curtis’ throat, but Ari didn’t. He’s caught off guard when Ransom walks by and pops his head in, his blue eyes locking on the purple lace with blue bows. 

“Where did you get those?”

Those five words erupted an argument that shook the walls. Curses were spat and accusations were pointed every which way until the world decided that three out of four wasn’t enough.  

Steve was on his way home when he heard the shouts from a few houses down. 

He burst into the bedroom with wide eyes and was welcomed by his friends arguing and tearing crumbled lace from each other’s hands. Then, the universe works its magic again and the sheer fabric lands on the floor a few feet away from him. 

His gaze drops and he cocks his head to the side, but that puzzlement swiftly fuses into disbelief that shakes him to the core. The air falls to an ear-splitting silence as realization dawns, freezing them all where they stand. 

The first to speak is Ransom, he lets out a boisterous laugh. “What a little cock hungry bitch. Well played, I’ll say, well played.” 

After everyone calmed down and Steve stopped crying and dry heaving, they made the journey to Ransom’s mansion for the sake of privacy, who knows what their other fraternity brothers would think? They’d pity them, but no one would understand their circumstances. No, that gracious gift was split between the four of them. 

“So, who gets to have her?” All eyes fall on Steve, the 6’8 figure hunched in a small chair and clutching a pillow to his chest. 

Me—is spoken in all their heads. Fury, greed and vengeance don’t mix well with love. 

“I had her before you.” Curtis says to Ransom and reclines on the leather couch, stretching lazily, “Did I forget to mention she sucked my dick that night? Oh… and you kissed her too, huh?” He smirks, “I don’t know about you but I’d rather not know my parents than know what a stranger’s dick tastes like.”

Ransom clenches his jaw, “You poor cunt—”

“Don’t worry, I’m sure the girl you ditched that day is still into you. Call her up and see how that goes, trust fund baby.” 

“If we’re going with whoever had her first…” Steve trails off, swallowing the lump in his throat. He cried when he found out about your unfaithfulness, and he cried on the way to the mansion and already excused himself a few times to cry in the bathroom, yet he was seconds away from crying again. “Then i-it’s you.” 

Six blue eyes pool with hesitance, then tentatively land on the tallest frat boy. 

Ari’s wounds run the deepest, piercing through his skin that you’ve marked with your lips and hands. You’ve branded him, traced your name on his chest as you two talked mindlessly about the future, where you see yourself after graduating from that pretentious university halfway across the world. 

It wasn’t the distance. If it was, why did you date three other guys from the same city as him?

“Has she contacted any of you? While you two were arguing, she tried calling me.” He stares down at the missed call. The candid contact photo glares back, it was from your last birthday just before you blew out your candles. A surprise party he planned for you. 

Everyone checks their phones. 

“She just cancelled our date.” Ransom grits his teeth, glaring at the screen with your adorable yet revolting apology. 

I promise I’ll make it up to you, daddy! I have a huge project coming up but I’ll miss you! Please don’t forget about me :(

“Ours too. Apparently, she has a project.” Curtis itches to call you right now and give you a piece of his mind but he’d rather see your face when your castle of lies crumbles to the ground. 

You were always so pretty when you were helpless and ruined. 

Steve’s phone is the last to chime. He gulps nervously and flips it over with a furrow between his brows. “She wants me to visit her next week.” 

“Fucking bitch.” Ransom growls, throwing his phone across the room, it dents the wall with a loud thump. Everyone would be taken aback if he hadn’t broken four glasses already. 

“I—uh, what do I say? Do I make up an excuse that I can’t go?”

Ari uncrosses his arms, blinking slowly. He was calm and it was terrifying considering how furious he should be. He knew you first, he fell for you first, he had you first, yet he was as peaceful as a boat on a gentle stream. “You don’t want to see her?”

Steve slumps over in a big hunk of muscle trapped in a too-small t-shirt. For someone usually happy and energetic, it was comical to see the new star player of the football team so defeated. Millions of bodychecks and tackles couldn’t amount to the gut-wrenching aches and emptiness, and Ari was the only one who understood that too. 

He still wasn’t over the fact that he’s been playing on the same team as the guy who was fucking his girlfriend—their girlfriend?

“Of course I do. I love her.” 

Steve was soft, to say the least, everyone knew that when they saw him walk into the fraternity house with a wide smile and a tray of freshly baked cookies, “I wanted to make a good impression and my ma says food is the best way to do it,” he said in a Brooklyn accent, “can’t have my frat brothers hating me, that’d be a shitshow.” 

Hate wouldn’t be the word they’d use, but they weren’t completely comfortable with each other like before. 

What are the chances that all your boyfriends enroll in the same college and join the same fraternity at the same time, even when all of them were attending different schools the previous year?

Fate was probably fed up with your deceitfulness. 

“You’ll invite her here and we’ll all have her.” Ari decides, his dark eyebrows knitted tightly, “we’ll share. That means, the two of you get along or get out—”

“—this is my house.”

“I didn’t fucking ask.” He snaps, “If this is going to work, we’ll have to get along, or at least pretend to. And at the end of the night, no one loses, no one wins, but she gets what she deserves.” 

For the hundredth time, Steve looks down at your hand in his. Your freshly manicured hand contrasts with his black gloves, and the glitter nail polish matches the dainty diamond on your ring finger, the one he bought you for your one year anniversary. You got him a chain necklace that he’s never taken off and with his bubbling nerves, it feels like the silver is burning through his skin.

“You okay, baby?”

As always and regardless of the conditions, he swoons at your lovely voice. Oh, he was neck-deep in his desire, trapped and made into a damn clown, yet his heart still sang for you. 

“Yeah, doll. Are you?”

You grin and kiss his cheek with your glossed lips. “I’m perfect, daddy.” You’re happy that Steve begged you to come home instead of flying him to you. 

This was your first time visiting his new college and elite university parties were nothing like the ones in the city. They lacked closeness and freedom since everyone was concerned about wrong angles or nasty rumours. Here, people just wanted to dress up, have fun, and celebrate Halloween on rented-out property in an old farmhouse. 

“I’ll get you another drink.” Steve pats your hip and you scoot off his lap, occupying the free spot on the couch. He asks around for other refills and turns to you, tilting your chin up with his finger, “You want something to eat too?”

“No thanks, do you want me to come?”

Steve snorts, brushing you off with a claim of chivalry. You watch him walk away and ignore that little voice of guilt, the hushed dejected calls of three other names. They didn’t matter right now, you were with Steve and thinking about them any longer put all of your relationships at risk. 

You love them all, but in different ways. There were different things to love about each of them, distinct qualities to admire, and little habits to remember. You were diligent with everything, that’s why you’ve gotten away with it for so long. 

You grew up quite spoiled, always getting whatever you want from your parents who never used the word no. It was all on a shiny silver platter, from prized jewelry to new wardrobes, fancy cars and luxurious vacations. That part of you never grew up, you still wanted it all and got it—just like how you wanted four men and got them. They weren’t disposable to you, no, they were the loves of your life. You valued them, but obviously not enough to respect their trust and the sanctity of your relationship. 

When Steve returns, you don’t waste any time. Your body presses against his and your lips trail down his neck, gently pushing the hood off his blond head, “I’ve missed you, daddy. Haven’t you missed me too?”

Steve has since gotten over his heartbreak and nerves. It took a bit of liquid courage and some direction from Ari, but he was ready. No longer a sad, pouting puppy but a vengeful beast, smelling out your lies like a fresh kill. It’s that deep-seated hunger which spurs him on, prompting him to pull you to the dance floor for a few songs. He yearns to feel your body against his, your irresistible warmth, and that magnetic force that pulled him to you two years ago. 

You turn around in his hold, slowly grinding against his thigh. “I did what you asked…” You trail off, bringing his hand under your tutu. It isn’t out of character for you to be so forward, but it catches you off guard when he gropes your flesh. His fingers trace over the plug through your nylon tights and lace leotard. “Did I do good, daddy?”

“So good, baby.” His voice drops low, rumbling in his chest, his hard bulge rubs against your hip. “You always do so good for me.” 

You were his best girl, his pretty doll who couldn’t do any wrong. He’d do anything you asked, bend over backwards to fulfill your any wish but that would change tonight. It was time for you to be stretched thin for his demands and satisfy his needs. 

“I want to feel your mouth on me.” 

Under any other circumstances, Steve would have felt embarrassed for saying that aloud, but all those worries fly out the window when your eyes twinkle and you nod obediently, truly the whore that Curtis said you were—well, he actually called you a fuckhole.

Steve wrongfully thought your body was his for the past two years, but at this moment, he chose to believe you were wholly his. 

“You okay, sweet girl?”

You nod eagerly with your mouth locked around one of his balls, your tongue traces the seam before suckling. You’re so messy and struggle to take his full sack, slobbering filthily as saliva dribbles onto your pristine costume. 

His gaze locks on your face, your cheeks are wet and hot with tears, and his spit hangs out the corner of your swollen lips. Your tongue swipes out for it before licking up his leaky cock, following the protruding veins to the fat tip. 

“You like when I stroke your cock, daddy?” 

“Yeah, baby. Go deeper, you’ve done it before.” His neck tenses when you gag on his cock, fisting what couldn’t fit in your mouth. “Fuck, that’s it.” 

The music vibrates throughout the house, the loud conversations flowing in from under the bathroom door, but you didn’t care, not even with your sore knees pressing into the cold tiles, or your feather headpiece jostling with every bob. 

His heavy weight on your tongue and his taste filling your mouth sends tingles through your body, but you force your hand away from your throbbing cunt. This was for Steve, your sweet, loving and fucking hot boyfriend Steve.  

“So pretty down there, doing so good for me.” Steve pants heavily, guiding you to kiss up and down his pulsating length. The mushroom head is enveloped between your lips and you lick his slit. You’re usually a tease, but Steve has different things in mind. 

He secures a hand behind your head and pushes down until his tip hits the back of your throat. You try to control your breathing, but it’s futile with his massive length violating your airways, hammering deep and rough. You choke around his girth, saliva spills down your chin, and tears pool in your eyes but you’re determined to bring him to that precipice. You take whatever he gives—from more spit on your face to brutal thrusts. 

He forces you down further and rocks his hips, fucking your mouth like he hated you. “Look up at me, wanna see my pretty girl sucking my cock.” 

You preen under his words, blinking up at him as tears stream down your face. Wet, garbled noises fill the small bathroom as you cling to his hips over his tattered robe, piercing the thin fabric with your nails. 

“That’s it, good fuckin’ girl. Take daddy’s cock,” like the dumb whore you are. A stupid slut who isn’t content with only one man but needs several to suck dry—you’ve stolen it all, their time, money, and love. You didn’t deserve his cum right now, but Steve was too fucking soft. 

He growls your name, pumping your mouth full of his hot seed. There’s so much that some seeps through the corners of your lips, following in the lines of your spit and tears, deliciously ruining your makeup. He forces you to stay there, filled to the brim and choking on his cum. After what felt like hours, he lets you pull off. You immediately swallow his seed and lick the sensitive tip for any rogue droplets, peppering messy kisses up the flushed flesh. 

He helps you stand and rubs your cheek, smearing the spit, cum and tears into your skin. You moan and dip down, suckling his fingers and slowly lifting your dress. In the mirror, he sees your ass through the paper-thin nylon and sheer white leotard, and that plug snugly in your puckered hole. 

The reflection only emphasizes the differences, you clad in a blinding, pure white against his black robe, glittering and feathery while he was dark and looming. The similarities are only visible to him, two people playing pretend. He thinks you should win an award for your performance. 

You’re smaller than him, and so much weaker. He could pick you up and fuck you senseless against the wall, make your whines pour out for everyone to hear. 

“Wanna see it, daddy? I did it for you.”

He does, but his phone vibrates on the counter. 

Ransom: Time’s up. We don’t have all night.

It physically hurts to push you away. “In a bit, sweet girl. Let’s go enjoy the party, okay?”

The night goes on, party songs blare through the old farmhouse, rattling the old walls and windows. It’s safe to say you were momentarily satisfied after blowing Steve, the night was still young and you had all weekend to jump his bones before you left the city. 

You found a group of people to chat with, easily joining their conversations. They were interested in your private school life, so you entertained them with stories of your strict years in ironed uniforms from your early childhood to university career but unlike them, you had zero knowledge about Greek life. 

Apparently, there were a few fraternities on campus, “your boyfriend is in one, didn’t he tell you?”

“Uh, no. He didn’t.” 

You almost forgot which boyfriend you were here with until one of them asked where Steve went, and Halloween night must bring magic because just as they asked, your date popped up from the backdoor. He headed straight for you and tugged you away by your arm, not bothering to greet your new friends. 

You giggle, already tipsy from your first few drinks. “Where’d you run off to?”

He doesn’t respond and drags you outside, weaving through the bodies crowding the back porch illuminated by fairy lights. The crisp air fills your lungs, tainted with smoke, but it’s refreshing after being in a stuffy house all night. 

You apologize to the few people you bump into, blindly stumbling after your boyfriend. He’s practically body-checking people out of the way and hauling you like dead weight. He’s so rough that your bag slips from your wrist. “Steve, my purse!” 

Ransom huffs and spins around to grab your bag before continuing his trek to the woods, slowing down for your sake. This time, you follow easily, slightly inebriated and giddy, not questioning a thing—even though Steve was acting very different tonight, you were excited about anything else he had in store. 

The darkness grows the deeper you walk, the light from the farmland property swallowed by the vast abyss. You make out the shapes of the trees and your boyfriend in the muted moonlight, although your dress is still bright, especially the rhinestones glimmering across your body. 

“I wish we matched costumes… I need my prince.” You flirt, “I am a princess after all.” 

The irony almost makes him laugh. You dressed as an untouched white swan, a cursed princess. There was no purity within you, the bleached tulle and feathers on your body were nothing but a mockery for delicacy and heartache. 

“We could’ve been the cutest couple here! But you just wanted to hide under that robe. Are you scared I’m gonna find some marks that aren’t from me?”

Your teasing is cut short when he pins you against a thick tree, your back slams into the jagged bark and the back of your head throbs dully. Stars cloud your vision and you almost don’t notice when he drops to his knees between your legs. “What the hell—Steve!” With his head under your tutu, he makes quick work of tearing off his mask. The ghostly disguise falls to the forest floor face up, the horrid expression glaring at you. 

You try to pull up your dress but he bats your hands away, quickly distracting you with a flat tongue up your clothed cunt. You gasp and your thighs tremble when his wet muscle flicks against your clit, his saliva and your slick soaking through the white lace. 

“W-Wait, right now? I, fuck.” Your back arches when he bites your thigh. 

The silent night is interrupted by an awful tear. Your nylon tights meet the same fate as your lace leotard, torn to bits by his wild hands. 

“Daddy, uhm, I don’t—” Your voice breaks into a moan when his thick fingers slide to the hilt and he harshly sucks your clit. He doesn’t work you up to it, no, he starts like a starved man. He fucks you with two fingers, nudging the plug with his other hand while dining on your button. He latches onto the nub, massaging the nerves with his tongue as your pussy clenches around his digits, sucking him in. 

He’s so rough and sloppy, making out with your cunt and hungrily slurping up your juices, disgracing the surrounding nature with the lewd noises and his guttural groans. Acting as if he hasn’t touched you in a lifetime.  

Ransom briefly considers fucking up the whole plan just to see you properly. He misses your pretty face, your messy cunt and weepy hole, he feels you dripping but he would do anything to see your creaminess coating his fingers, just like his pinky ring. 

The tree bark digs into your back as he hoists you higher. His spit splatters against you before his teeth drag along your clit and he nibbles mockingly. He soothes any aches with his tongue, trailing down your slit to lick into your hole. You whimper when hard slaps land on your nub, and he isn’t as kind this time around and rubs it roughly, bullying your sensitive button with his skilled fingers. 

“Uh! D-Don’t stop, daddy. Please don’t stop.” You pant, already on edge from your previous escapade in the bathroom. You wondered why he didn’t touch you then, and now you’re thankful you waited. Your body has a mind of its own and rocks against his clean-shaven face, fucking yourself on his tongue. He hums against you, either with some degrading comment or praise, you didn’t care. 

You fist his hair under your tutu, legs quivering as he replaces his wet muscle with his digits, pumping knuckle deep. His fingers hit that rough patch with every thrust, forcing your juices out and into his awaiting mouth, racing you toward that edge of euphoria. 

His faint curses go muffled as you convulse, your thighs lock around his head, trapping him against your pussy. You cry out his name, so close to your high that you can taste it—sweet, addictive and full of relief, but you’re yanked from that delight when he pulls back. 

The cold rushes against your wet folds, making you whine from the abrupt loss of his wet warmth. Your concerns die in your throat when he puts on his mask, wiping his fingers on his robe. Your weak legs drop to the ground as he leans back and tilts his head, studying you behind the plastic face. 

Your heart pounds in your chest, the tightness unravelling within your stomach. “Why—Why’d you stop?”

All he does is laugh and stand up, dusting off his knees casually. You call out his name and in confusion, watch him turn around and walk back to the house, leaving you in the forest alone, soaked, and fucking high and dry. 

At the sight of that familiar mask, you duck and turn the other way. Your drink is almost done so you toss it in the trash and sway through bumping bodies, ignoring the heavy footsteps that are somehow louder than the bass. 

Were you avoiding him? Yes, but with his tall stature, he could easily spot you above the crowd and that limited your hiding spots. 

He deserved it for leaving you out there like a sacrificial lamb. What would’ve happened if you had been shitfaced drunk? You’d probably pass out on the ground and freeze to death, and he’d be responsible for it, the dumb fucking jerk! If he abandoned you out there now, there was no telling if you’d find your way back to the house because tonight, you found out that more drinks go well with holding grudges. 

You scream when your whole world is flipped upside down, and instantly recognize that stupid tattered robe, “Everyone can see my ass, jerk!”

Curtis snorts, you’ve probably fucked everyone in this room already and showing them your ass should be the least of your worries. 

You’re set on your feet in a dark corner of the packed living room, the strobe lights flash across the heads of partygoers, and the music booms loudly, drilling some pop song into your head. He pulls you flush against his chest, crushing your tutu between your bodies.  

“Get off me, asshole.” You try to wiggle free, but he’s too strong and big, he doesn’t even flinch when you stomp on his foot. “Ugh, I said get off!” You squirm when his hand slips between your thighs, meeting your bare cunt. “Steve!”

A sharp spank lands on your pussy, making your legs go numb but he holds you up with one arm, rubbing torturously slow circles on your swollen nub. With the booming music and the alcohol flowing through your system, you don’t register the different voice in your ear. 

“That isn’t what you call me.” 

You shiver, the warmth radiates off his body, luring you with his presence. You’re still wet and so sticky that your slick has smeared to your inner thighs, right where his fingers are tracing now. His touch ignites that fire again, all too effortlessly making you into a needy mess. 

In the flickers of red, he can see every thought leave your head. Dumb little girl. You thought you could hide from him? 

Curtis’ reaches in the slit of his robe to unbuckle his belt, and you’re too preoccupied with riding his fingers. His cock slides between your soaked, ruined folds, replacing his hand as he prods at your soppy hole. You go slack as he rocks slowly but never strays too far, letting you feel every inch.

“D-Daddy, oh!” You snap your jaw shut, “what are you—”

“Hush, you don’t want people to catch us, right?” He asks, thrusting forward until he nudges your puffy button, rubbing the sensitive nerves with the tip. He groans lowly, Ransom really bullied you down there.

Your eyes squeeze shut, your thoughts jumbling together from the overstimulation. “We—We shouldn’t, daddy…” Your voice fades when his hand wraps around your throat, his rough fingers digging into your skin and he forces you to face the crowd.

“None of them know who you really are, huh? What you really are?”

If anyone looked over, they’d instantly know what was going on. It was obvious from your blissed-out expression and his rocking hips, your weak hands grasping at his forearm as he squeezed harder. 

The oxygen goes thin as your eyes roll back, your bones turn to jelly and soon he’s your only support. His beefy arm pins you to his chest, keeping you from falling over as he thrusts into your weepy folds, the bulbous tip catching on your hole but never penetrating. 

If he could, he’d spit in your mouth, make you gag on his saliva until it dribbled down your chin. He wants the whole world to know what a slut you are, and how needy you get for cock that you’ll let him use you just feet away from other people. 

Curtis knows you love the risk. He knew that the moment he met you—because you kissed him in the photo booth and slipped his hand up your skirt, begging in your soft voice for him to touch you. 

Your lips part with a silent moan. He can’t resist slipping two fingers into your mouth, reminiscing when you sucked his dick that very same day and swallowed everything he gave you. Fucking cockslut. There were times when you dropped to your knees under his desk and rubbed over his clothed cock until he let you suck him off. You loved when he used you and when he was mean, acting like a damn bully instead of your loving boyfriend. You wanted to be degraded, ruined and downgraded to a cocksleeve, and that’s why you were his fucking pornstar. 

He still has that photo strip of you smiling, all fucked out and dumb with spit, tears and cum on your face. Your very first picture together and you didn’t even know his last name at the time. 

“Pl-Please let me come this time, daddy.” You plead, weakly meeting his thrusts. 

This time?

Curtis holds back a huff, of course, Ransom would tease the hell out of you. No wonder you’re so pathetic right now, not even thinking straight as he takes you apart on his girth. The partygoers couldn’t see his face, but they could see yours, and how stupid you looked getting fucked in the corner of the room. 

“You gonna come for me and cover daddy’s cock in your cream?” He asks, “Come in front of all these people, show ‘em what a fucking whore you are.”

If you weren’t so dazed, you would’ve realized that Steve has never called you a whore, he barely used slut either. Preferring to call you his sweet baby, his pretty doll, his girl, as he took you apart with suffocating love, those long fingers and his monstrous cock. 

Your high topples over and you cling to his arm, victim to the wave of bittersweet relief. Your orgasm coats his length, claiming him as it streams down your legs, seeping into your tights. You’re so lost in the pleasure and unable to contain your loud pitiful mewl, drawing a few drunken gazes. 

Curtis crowds you, blocking their eyes and presses you into the wall. He grips his cock, slapping the head against your pulsating clit before drawing back, the tip barely pops in before his seed spurts out, filling you up. Some escapes and the thick white cum follows in the trails of your squirt, and the feeling of being owned almost gets you worked up again. 

You can’t hear much with the blood rushing through your head, but you make out a few words: “bathroom” and “clean yourself up.” 

“W-Wait, we’re goin’ too far…” You slur, clutching the fresh seventh or eighth drink that your boyfriend shoved into your hand. Your previous one spilt all over the floor when he hauled you out of the bathroom. You barely finished cleaning yourself up before he barged in. “It’s your fault I was a mess, daddy… You can’t be mad at me.” 

He doesn’t speak or falter, his purposeful strides so long that you flounder after him. 

“Where are we,” you hiccup, “going?” When faced with no response, you dig your feet into the ground, but your ballet flats are useless in the dry, crumbling dirt. “Hey! I’m talkin’ to you!” 

He stops suddenly and you squeak, bumping into his broad back. Punch—or whatever it was—spills out of the cup splashing onto your white dress, staining the tulle and feathers a bright scarlet. 

“Ugh, Steve! Look what you did!”

He turns around, cocking his head like you were a child throwing a tantrum. 

Your feeble attempts at cleaning the mess only make it worse and spread the vibrant red. “I really liked this costume, and now look… It’s like I was stabbed.” You pout, the alcohol making you a little emotional. “Y-You ruined it! And I-I felt so pretty today—” 

He wraps you in his arms, cooing softly while rubbing your back. You drunkenly cling to his warm body, feeling his muscles under the hooded robe. 

“Let’s stand here for a bit… you gave me a lot of drinks.” You nuzzle into his chest, brushing off the difference of his cologne. Cold night air brushes along your nylon-clad legs, fluttering the delicate mesh of the tutu. You’ve lost some rhinestones as the night went on, but nothing a little hot glue couldn’t fix. “You’ve never done public stuff like that, Stevie. You’re usually so private about us.” 

He shrugs, the booming music is distant but the heavy bass still pounds in your ears. 

“You don’t wanna admit it? C’mon, I won’t tell.” You flutter your lashes, a trick that always works. “I’m into it too, and how you caught me off guard only makes it better.” 

Through blurry vision, you spot a guest house a few ways away. The lights are off, the driveway is empty, and an idea pops into your head. “We could have some real fun, daddy. Don’t you wanna have fun with me?”

This time he hums and drags his hands down your back, gripping your waist. He yanks you close, pushing an oof from your throat. 

“You’re never so rough either.” His bulge presses against your front and you nearly drop to your knees right then and there. “Do you wanna keep the mask on?”

He nods, the lifeless black eyes and dramatically opened mouth absorbing any light, contrasting with the ghostly white face. He’s looming like a shadow the size of a mountain, intimidating you by merely looking at you with a dead gaze as daunting as the creepy fictional character. 

You thought Steve didn’t like horror movies. 

You lean up to kiss him, but he spins you around so quickly that you almost fall over. Tall corn stalks and various pumpkins sit on hay bales under an archway forebodingly lit by lanterns. 

You giggle, “Ooh! You wanna race to see who finds the exit first? I’ll have you know, I’m quite the pro. I go whenever they have one at the pumpkin patch!”

Ari fucking knows that because it’s one of your traditions. You two go every year and get hot chocolate and fresh pie, then head to the corn maze for your annual competition. As always, you get a head start and he pretends to get lost so you have to find a way out together, and he’ll try—and fail—to fool around with you. Your excuse? “There are families here!”

As if you hadn’t begged him to fuck you in the closet when you were visiting his family for spring break. He had to gag you with your panties, you were so needy and pleading for him to fuck you harder, to fuck you stupid just doors away from his parents. 

You wanted to be caught that day, and right now he wished he let you walk out with his cum on your face. Perhaps then, you’d be filled with humiliation just like the four of them. 

He wanted you to think you got away with it, that you’re still the queen and they’re stupid pawns to your game. Just so he can watch the despair wash over your face, the broken pride will fall from your lips in half-assed apologies. 

You’ll cry and beg for forgiveness, for mercy, but they won’t give it to you. No, they want you to suffer, wallow in distraught—just as Odette did when Siegfried swore to love another. 

He watches you run off, your loud inebriated laughter flowing into the open air, joyous and free, the complete opposite of what you’ll be when the clock strikes midnight. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees three other hooded figures emerge from the forest. One by one, their stark white masks are bathed in the moonlight, screaming or crying or both. He sets your purse by the entrance after taking your cell phone, and only then does he enter the maze. 

It isn’t long until he catches up to you, following the fallen feathers from your costume like breadcrumbs. 

You’re leaning against the haystack wall, flashing him a mischievous smile. Your hands drag down your body, teasingly pulling down the front of your dress to expose your cleavage. 

He steps towards you, craving the heat of your skin. He wants to know just how much the other guys ruined you, but you duck under his arm and race deeper into the maze, giggling madly. 

“Gotta be faster than that, daddy!”

The further you go, the darker it gets. Everything looks the same, all varying in shades of green but you try to not get distracted, sugary sweet victory is hot on your mind. You slow down and listen for heavy feet on the grass, but all you hear are crickets and the gentle wind. 

You scream when thick arms wrap around your waist, heaving you high into the air and pinning you against a haystack. Built arms hook under your thighs as his hips slip snugly between your thighs, brushing your overworked core. 

You laugh, “this is like the movie! What does she say?” You think for a moment, “No, please don’t kill me, Mr. Ghostface, I wanna be in the sequel!” You burst into laughter, playfully kicking your feet, “now the stain makes… uh… sense! It makes sense!” 

The shadows cloud over his masked face, making him look sadder or more scared. Horrified would fit the best, but your drunken head couldn’t find the word. 

“You’re so pretty when you beg.” 

All blood drains from your face and fills your heart, sinking it straight to hell and taking your carefree smile with it. 

“What? You don’t miss me?” His deep voice slices through the silence, “Oh, or do you miss someone else more?” From each turn enter three more figures, matching black robes clad over their shoulders with the hoods pulled down, accentuating their stark white disguises. 

He flips up his mask, making you nauseous in a single motion. “Happy Halloween, bunny.” His long hair frames his pale face and his eyes gleam with cruel amusement as a twisted grin plays on his pink lips. 

You open your mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. 

“Poor girl, did you lose your voice?” Number three. 

“That’s a shame, I love hearing you scream.” Number four.

The rest of the men remove their masks and your eyes drift over each of them. The sick glee drips off their faces and entwine with ferocious hunger. They surrounded you like predators to prey, the reapers to bring you to your inescapable fate—and they were ecstatic about it. 

Number two doesn’t look as happy as Curtis and Ransom, in fact, his expression was unreadable. He was quiet and cold, not only with his schooled features, but he didn’t speak like the rest of them. 

When Steve got quiet, he was terrifying because you didn’t know what to expect. You could only imagine the things going through his head, your sweet, loving, baker boyfriend had a dark side, one that you’ve only seen a handful of times if some guy hit on you. 

He always managed to leave the scene before things got too intense, but you feared this wasn’t one of those times. 

“N-No…”

“No? Did you miss me the most then?” Ari asks mockingly, blue eyes drawn low, “you loved me first, so you must love me the most too.”

You can’t feel the tears streaming down your numb cheeks but you know they’re there, and that’s only confirmed when Ari wipes one with his thumb, and sucks it into his mouth. Your salty misery is his favourite taste but it isn’t enough, all four of them want your ultimate destruction. 

“Cry all you want, bunny. Karma doesn’t give a shit if you’re sad or scared.” Oh but they wanted you to be petrified, “You reap what you sow—and for you, sweetheart, it’s time to bite the bullet.” 

𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: did someone say a hate fucking gangbang? Bc that’s what’s going to happen. we're starting no nut November with nuts, but oops !! p.s. the date for the next part is on the fic masterlist.

𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞! check out the rest of my kinktober masterlist for my other spooky slutty fics !!

As always, I hope you all enjoyed this and I’d love to hear your thoughts/feedback !! <3 — ☼ 𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐊𝐨-𝐟𝐢 ☼

I don’t do taglists anymore. ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 & 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲: @𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲

[fandomfluffandfuck]

sliding into your asks once again to bring you this gifset and the thoughts i had as a result:

i'm thinking ransom drysdale x reader where the reader pegs the shit out of him. like, he’s just whining and whimpering and drooling. he cums so hard bc the strap is so big and he 'can’t take it' but he wants ‘more, please’ and ends up going limp in her arms bc of how good it feels. he might even pass out a little and later wakes up to her stroking his dick with her warm hands.

and he’s like ‘oh my god, i cant cum anymore, stop’ and she just sits on his dick with a smile and starts using his cock like a toy, saying ‘you’re not being a very good boy right now, hugh’ and shoves her fingers in his mouth. 'you can't tell me to stop. have you forgotten who's in charge here?'

she says ‘if you let me use your cock i’ll let you cum’ and ransom, thinking with his dick which is throbbing quite painfully inside her, shakes his head vehemently.

‘oh? so you don’t want to cum?” he says no bc at the time he's feeling really sensitive and so fucking naked and like he's a live wire - so she simply tells him, ‘okay.’ and takes her fingers out of his mouth so she can lean down to lick the drool from his parted lips and jaw.

‘but if you cum without my permission im locking your dick in a cage and you won’t be able to so much as get hard until i decide you can. is that clear, baby?”

ransom shakes his head again, ‘fuck- no! I want to cum, i don't think i can hold it, it was hurting but now it hurts good! Please, please don't put the cage on me, please keep fucking me it feels amazing-’ 

‘ah, ah- weren’t you the one who said you didn't want to come?’ and she keeps fucking him and her hips move in a way he’s utterly obsessed with and she cums on his dick without even looking at him, using him for his cock only, taking her pleasure and leaving ransom to sob and beg and whine and cry under her because it hurts so bad - ‘please, you’re so beautiful, please let me cum, please, i need it so bad, you cant- you cant, i’ve been so good!’ - but she ignores him, letting her orgasm wash through her and made more intense by the way ransom twitches desperately inside her as her pussy grows wet with cum.

The sounds are obscene but they’re done now, and the reader curls up on top of ransoms chest, feeling it heave underneath her and the way he tenses up as her pussy drags against his cock and tightens up. She’s got him on the edge and she doesn’t even know, too caught up in how good and sated she feels from her orgasm. ‘You were so good, baby’ she says, and kisses his mouth filthily whilst rolling her hips subconsciously, ‘such a good boy’ as her lips trail down his neck because he’s so pretty, down to his flushed chest and biting at his nipples. A flood of something warm spreads inside her and she realises, with a wicked gleam in her eye, that ransom just came.

‘did you just cum?’ she asks, and he blinks hard, grunting underneath her and nodding desperately. ‘i'm sorry, i'm sorry, please don’t put the cage on me - i didn’t mean to! I swear, you just- you were kissing me like that and moving your hips and it just felt so good, i couldn’t help it!’

she’s not one to go back on her word, though, and after a few minutes of shushing and letting her boy calm down, she’s getting up and cleaning them up with some wipes and a cloth, pulling on a big shirt and kneeling beside ransoms quivering body.

‘here we go…’ she puts on the cage and locks it, putting the key in its box and tossing it on the floor next to the bed. ‘Sleep well, baby’ she says, tucking ransom close to her chest and spooning him until they fall asleep.

-

if i had time i'd make this a full fledged fic but i do not :(, so i decided to share my thoughts with you and your blog instead so you can tell me what you think! 🫶

Uhhhhhh

No thoughts.

Congrats, you've scrambled my brain 😮‍💨😮‍💨🥴

I am imagining the fucking mess that Ransom would be vividly and you--

Just

You added ✨️women✨️ which means that these thoughts are too much. No processing. Only an italicized oh.

The pure filth that is Ransom crying and begging for her to stop because her cock is too big inside him, stretching him so much that it aches, yet... at the same time, Ransom absolutely doesn't want it to stop.

There's no way in hell he's going to use his safeword.

No, he wants more. He's rich, spoiled, and greedy. He needs this. He needs more. He's a fucking size queen. He will cry and squirm and moan until he's unraveling and need more. He will beg for mercy without meaning it. Well, he does want mercy, she might murder him like this, if she keeps going, but he wouldn't dream of stopping.

"Mor', mmm, ah, mmngh! M-more. Please! More!" I can hear his pathetic moaning from here.

The fact that he cums again from kissing and that little bit of praise is spot 👏🏻 fucking 👏🏻 on 👏🏻 . And you know she was kissing him. He's wrecked. There is not a single thought bouncing around in his melted brain. So, there's no way in hell he's putting himself together enough to kiss back.

No.

He's getting off on the way that her tight, unbearably wet pussy is clenching around him, claiming his cock for herself, and the way she's claiming his mouth. She's kissing him, bruisingly so. Grabbing his chin and keeping them mouth to mouth, even as Ransom pants and gasps and moans into her mouth. Even when she stops possessively taking his mouth and instead slowly draaaggs her hand down his flushed throat toward his hard, peaked nipples. He's fucking getting off on it. On her staking her claim. Him. Staking her claim on him.

Just a flick of his hard nipple, and Ransom is jolting with a choked, "a-ah!"

It's over for him the second her lush mouth is on his skin. Grazing his nipple with her teeth and chasing the sweet flare of pain with pure pleasure, her tongue hot and wet and good against his tits.

Oh, God.

How's he not supposed to cum? Especially when she, under her breath, almost to herself, murmurs, her voice all husky and sensual, "there's my good boy. Pretty boy. Look at you."

Ransom throbs.

He cries.

He cums.

JesusfuckingChrist.

It's so good he feels it in his teeth.

But, yeah, the moment it's over--she doesn't even have to ruin his orgasm--he's upset. He didn't mean to! He's just--

He didn't--

He didn't think! He couldn't think! He just, just had to! He's sorry! He's wailing a little, he knows he is, but he's upset. And he can't help himself. She can, though, she can calm him down and get him comfortable enough to accept that, yeah, he needs this. He needs his punishment. It centers him. It's what makes this work. Get the cage.

In conclusion:

Yes.

I fucking love this idea. Thank you for sharing! I will be coming back to this later and picturing Ransom being tamed by a domme again. Soon.

[georgiapeach30513]

My Worth In Blood

Summary: If he catches you, he gets to keep you.

Pairings: Vampire!Ransom Drysdale X Reader

Rating: explicit

Warnings:  explicit language, explicit sexual content, chase kink, teasing, blood kink, unprotected sex, PIV sex, minor breeding kink, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 2.9K

Ransom Drysdale Masterlist

Inhale. Long, slow, and drawn out. Exhale.

Breathe in, “Mmm.”

Delectable.

Ransom’s piercing cool blue eyes scan into the dusky night. Who is that? He runs a tongue over his razor sharp teeth. Moving the muscle over it before he pierces his tongue. He inhales the intoxicating aroma of you again. You smell divine. Heavenly. But where are you?

Taking a few steps, he scents you again. He can already taste you on his lips, and pouring down his throat. His eyes nearly glow as he finds the pathway to you. Pupils immediately dilating when he sees you. Alone, minding your business, and reading a book at a cafe. Oblivious to the noise and hustle of the city. Your foot taps a steady rhythm on the table leg, and you flip a page of your book.

Lifting your mug to your lips, he smells your body’s beautiful scent mixing with the aroma of chai tea latte. His vision zones in on the pulse on your neck. Your body is heating up. Your chest heaves a bit more than the other patrons at the cafe. Heart beating so much faster. Your mouth opens as you inhale sharply. You’re fucking aroused. So heated over whatever you’re reading he smells your honey, and can already taste you.

He shakes himself out of his stupor, smiling as he walks over to you. You’re so caught up in the book you don’t even pay him any mind, so he sits down in the chair in front of you. My gods, your neck is a work of art. Pristine, and blemish free. Perfect for his bite. You don’t care about him, or the fact that he can feel your temperature raise. What has got you so turned on? What is it that makes you feel so — flustered?

He clears his throat, watching as you finish your page before closing your book, “I’m not moving. There’s other tables you can sit at,” and you lift your book up again.

“What are you reading?”

“Not into small talk,” you chide, trying to read despite his inquiries.

“Little Stranger?” Ge looks at the blackened book in your hands with a smile. It looks almost sinister.

“Mmm,” you respond. You weren’t going to finish this book if he didn’t stop talking. You want to roll your eyes. You want to show him just how annoyed you are, but you continue along your merry way. Enjoying each line despite the intruder.

“What’s it about?”

You roll your eyes up to look at him over the book, and finally you see him. He’s dangerous. You didn’t know who he was, or anything about him, but danger radiates off his pale skin. His eyes seem to glow in the darkness with how bright they are. You want to look away, and can’t. He smiles the most devilish handsome smile, and you need to melt into yourself.

“Don’t do that,” you demand of him.

“Do what?” He’s an arrogant thing. His mouth curls up into a grin that would have girls losing their panties immediately. But you sense the danger.

“Whatever you’re doing,” his head cocks to the side in a question, looking like an innocent pup instead of the predator you know he is, and it makes you you gulp. You don’t miss the way his hungry eyes go to your mouth, and then your neck. Nostrils flaring when he notices your pulse, “Stop it.”

“What exactly am I doing?” He’s a tease.

“You’re fucking me with your eyes,” his boisterous laugh startles you, but it’s not a bad sound. It’s musical. “You know what you’re doing.”

“My sweet little mouse,” that nickname? Why would he use that one? He isn’t allowed to make you feel weaker than you already are. And ‘my’? He’s already claiming you as his. Are you in a book? Is your fantasies coming to life right before your eyes. “Trust me, if I was fucking you, you’d know.”

“I said with your eyes,” his brows lower as he stares at you. Staring right into your soul. No, your core, sensing the heat and slick pooling in your paties. You whimper. Heat courses through your body, and you feel it tingle all the way to your toes. Your body suddenly has two heartbeats, and one is making you double over. “Stop!”

The feeling immediately quits, and you gape at him. “What are you doing?”

“Judging by the swelling of your lips, the dilated eyes, and the scent coming from between your thighs, you know exactly what I’m doing,” you press your fingers on your mouth. Running the pads of the digits over your lips. He’s lying. “Little mouse, I didn’t mean the lips on your face.”

“You pervert!” He chuckles again, and you lay your book on the table. Crossing your arms over your chest, and he reaches for the book. “Stop! Don’t read that, it’s private!”

Randomly the strange man opens your book, stopping where you last let off. His mouth quirks up with each line. His eyes move unnaturally quickly over the words. “I don’t think I’m the one that’s a pervert,” he chuckles, and then clears his throat. The man looks at you, while he closes the book. Clearing his throat, “Has anyone ever told you how delectable you smell?”

“Has anyone ever told you that you cross too many boundaries?”

“Has anyone ever told you how your heart rate spikes when you read your filthy smut?” You gawk at him. The audacity. “You’re reading this out in public. Is that part of the turn on?” You didn’t have to answer that. You’re enjoying yourself reading. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of. It’s quite a turn on for me that I could smell your arousal across the street, and all because you were reading that,” you clear your throat.

He isn’t a bad looking man. He’s actually — beautiful in an otherworldly kind of way. What he’s saying is embarrassing, and enthralling all at the same time. The man picks your book up again, and starts flipping through the pages. “You don’t lack many pages. Mmm,” his nostrils flare, and his jaw tightens. The man adjusts his sitting, and his pants.

“You’re uncomfortable with my book?”

“No,” gulping, you look down at your cup. You wonder exactly what he is reading, and why a stranger is making you feel things deep in the pit of your stomach that you can’t explain. It is completely animalistic, and you don’t want to fight it. What are you thinking? This isn’t fiction. This is real life, and he’s a real man. “I’m not.”

“Not what?”

“A man,” he is all man. You can see that clearly. “Nor am I turned off by this. This brother is a menace. Why is he putting blood on his sister?”

“Concerned about the blood and not the fact they’re siblings?” His nose curls up a bit. An intimidating man, looking adorable. He flips a few pages before glaring at you, “They’re not actually siblings.”

“Let’s go for a walk,” he doesn’t even ask. He grabs your book, and holds out a hand for you. “I won’t bite. Hard anyways,” so corny. And yet, you still give him your hand. Gulping as his eyes scan over your entire body when you stand in front of him, “Immaculate.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere, Mr.?”

“Ransom,” it’s a fitting dark name for him. “Don’t ever call me Mr. Drysdale,” lifting your hand, he takes a long whiff before pressing his pillowy lips on your chilled hand, “What are you?” Those eyes flit back and forth across your face. “You’re like no human I’ve ever smelled.”

“You’re strange.”

“And there’s more to you than meets the eye, little mouse,” you roll your eyes, going to lead the way to somewhere, when Ransom looks up at the name of the cafe, “Coven Cafe, servicing wicked brews, enchanted espressos, and potions all to you from a mystic mug?”

“Is there a problem?” You moan as he pulls you into his marble hard body, and he sniffs up your neck. His tongue flicks out onto your skin, and he licks you, “Are you as impressed as I am that after all these years, you found me?”

“You bitch.”

“Witch,” giggling, you push Ransom away from you. “And yet, you can’t get my scent out of your silly little vamp mind,” his eyes set afire. Glaring at you while your lips turn up into a devious smile. “You think you finally deserve to bite me? To feast on me? Go on, you can bite me if you want to,” pouting up at him, you bat your lashes, “I like it.”

His eyes flutter close, and you take it as an opportunity to run. He could outrun you with his eyes closed, so any head start would have to do. Sprinting to the nearby woods. He can track you. He probably enjoys that even more. Cackling the moment you get into the trees, you begin to peel off parts of your clothes.

Leaving him a trail of discarded pieces of you. Letting him know just how undressed you are. Teasing him as you run away. Whore of a vampire. You are no fool to Ransom, and what it is he wants, and you’re willing to give it to him. Even for just one night. You’d become his obsession, while he became your ultimate prize. He could deny it. He could say that witches and vampires are mortal enemies. But Ransom has dreamed of a taste from you for too many years. You made sure of that.

“Where are you?” His voice echoes into the night, and you can’t help but to laugh again. Letting your voice ring out into the night.

“Use your vampire made senses. Find me. Claim me. And you can finally taste me,” you duck into a thicket. Your eyes looking into the dark for a sign of one of nature’s ultimate predators. Waiting on him like you’re his prey. And you want to be. You want him to pounce. The stamina of a vampire is said to be unmatched. And you want to test out that theory.

Quieting your breathing, you hear crunching of the leaves, and it’s not the pretty creature of the night. The woods come alive, altering your senses, and you have a deep urge to flee. You don’t want to. You need him to catch you. But there’s too much movement all around you. His presence wakes up the woods. They all want to get away from him.

“Run,” a voice whispers against your back, and you bolt. He chortles. He’s only letting you get ahead because he loves the chase. Loves the adrenaline rush right to his groin. Loves the way that you smell when you’re scared. Those muffled little snickers tickle on your skin, letting you know just how close he is to you.

All he has to do is reach out, “Got you. Now,” he pushes your body up against his own. Grinding his hips into your ass. “It’s a bit cliche to have a witch running through the woods naked on a full moon, isn’t it?”

“Better make it quick. We might not be the only creatures of the night out here,” he thrusts himself forward, grinning when you whimper.

“Think you can handle that much?” Pressing his bulge up against your ass, you get weaker with every rub against you.

“Oh, baby, I’ve been on my knees while a werewolf tried to mate with me. You think your little cock is going to be enough?” His fangs snap out, and you gasp. “Do it,” whining as a fang runs softly against your skin. “I dare you,” your knees buckle, and you mewl as he pierces your skin.

His hips still dry hump you. A free hand roams down your body until he sinks between your velvety lips. “My gods, you’re leaking,” his fangs retreat back in, and you spin around to glare at him. “Oh shut up, you needy little bitch. Are you trying to mate with every creature out there? I’m a vampire. I don’t procreate.”

“Did you ever think that was the appeal?” Ransom rolls his eyes, but calmly starts to remove his clothes. “Able to fuck all day with no consequence. You could spill in my cunt, and never sire a child. And…”

“Did you really let a filthy mutt mount you?” The disgust on his face is evident. It makes you giddy knowing you can get under his skin so easily.

“Why?”

“I don’t much care for sloppy seconds,” pulling his pants down, his cock springs free, and you nearly drool at the sight. A rock hard rod, looking more like marble than flesh. “Are you a whore?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know? Oooh!” He picks you up without any preamble. Both his hands gripping a thigh as he spreads you out wide, and lifts you up to his face. “What are you doing?” You screech, and he sniffs you.

“Staring at your cunt.”

“Why?”

“Have you actually taken a mutt?”

The one thing that would offend Ransom, and you said it just to get a reaction. Typical. “No. Even I have standards,” he starts lowering your body, gazing up at your eyes that are pitch black with sinful lust. “You gonna fuck me?”

“I’m gonna fuck, and claim you,” lowering you further, he impales you on his cock, and you screech. His pulsing member stretches you out in such a state that you can’t even see straight. Giving you no time to adjust to him, he uses your body like a cocksleeve. Lifting you up and stabbing into you over and over again. Wanting you to feel every blinding pleasure throughout your body.

You’ve fucked other creatures, but never a vampire. Their skin is a crawling frost, but the speed at which he moves is enough to make your toes curl. The friction heats you up, even if his body can’t. “Gods, you are a pretty little witch. Too bad I can’t fuck my spawn into you.”

“Shut up with the breeding kink. You can’t deliver,” Ransom growls. It isn’t humane, it’s feral. He leans forward, biting onto your neck, while your body crashes into him. You’d heard of such highs as a vampire feasting on you during sex, but you weren’t prepared for this. This is heavenly. Setting your soul and skin on fire.

It’s like feeling your pleasure, but also his own. His passion. The way you feel to him. It’s beyond just orgasmic, you are giving him sustenance. You’re giving him air to breathe. To survive. “My gods,” he pulls off your neck, crimson drips from his lips, and he licks it off, savoring the taste of you. “What are you?”

“A powerful witch,” moaning, when he makes you take every inch of his veiny cock. Settling you over him balls deep Holding you still while he looks over your face. “Cat got your tongue?”

“Witch’s got my cock,” you snort, and he pulls you off him, only to slam you back over his length. “Bind yourself to me,” he demands. Vampires have been known to be cocky.

“Absolutely not,” his brow quirks up. This time he pulls himself out of you slowly before he rails back into you. “You’re amazing with that magic wand of yours, but I will never bind myself to you without a cost.”

“And what’s that cost?”

His eyes look at your open wound before he leans forward. His tongue flattens against your skin, and he pulls it up your neck. Sealing up the wounds. Returning to look at you. “Bind yourself to me,” Ransom scoffs. “It’s only fair. You have a blood bank, and my powers.”

“And what do you have, my little mouse?”

“You,” he settles your legs around his waist. Turning to place your back against a tree. “I know you’ve been searching for me. But you enjoy the chase too much to just let you have me. Now you do. Now take me, and become mine.”

“We barely know each other.”

“You thought differently when it was just me binding myself to you. We’ve known each other for decades,” he shakes his head, smiling, and you lift the veil. Memories of him following your scent. Getting almost close enough, before you enchanted him. Engraining your essence into him. “You’ve always wanted me. You’re mine. And I’m yours.”

His mouth turns into a grin before he slams into your own mouth. Tasting yourself mingling with his sweet decadent being. His hips thrust into you with so much force that your back edges up and down on the tree. So much stimulation for so early in the night. He’s yours. He. Is. Yours.

With the force he’s pushing into you, you’ll be bruised. You can take it. You can take everything this beautiful vampire gives you. Everything. He’s yours. You were made for him. You can take it.

“You’ll take everything I give you,” Ransom rares back. Panting as he whispers on your lips. “All of it.”

“Every last drop,” you respond as his teeth pierce the other side of your neck, and your body comes undone. Euphoria settles throughout you. Sealing your fate with him forever. “Forever.”

Yours.

“Mine,” he growls onto your body. And lightning courses through your blood. He feels it. He feels it all. He feels you. “All. Mine.”

Next

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @peaches1958 @seitmai

@smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @midnightramyeoncravings @kmc1989

@pandaxnienke @kmm-fluv @distractingbeth @musingsfromthemitten

@theinheriteddutchess @buckybarnesisdaddy

[buck-star]

For your holiday game. How would Ransom react if you told him you ate all his cookies. 😁

Sassy munchkin pants and her favourite munching Cookie Monster. Thank you for joining my little holiday game.

Authors Note: This turned a bit naughty, hehe. So enjoy a bit of a naughty Ranny who’s not too mad about you stealing his cookies. You all get some (a lot) Christmas or less Christmas related Drabbles the next few days. 18+, MINORS DNI, smut.

Masterlist | Holiday game

When you ate a few of Ransoms favourite biscuit cookies you stole from his drawer of his bedside table you didn’t know he would react like that.

You imagined a few ways, him laughing it off, Ransom being a bit mad, him buying new one or Ransom forcing you to go shopping with him and get new one. Or maybe even convince you to bake some cookies yourself with him.

But none of that. He just smirked at you, that smirk that you would like to punch off his face — wouldn’t he be so damn handsome and you wouldn’t like to hurt him and maybe damage his precious face.

So when he walked to his armchair, spreading his legs and demanding you to come closer, you still thought about a hundred things he could want — but not of that one. Now while his cousin was still visiting the two of you.

Within seconds after he sat down you’re sitting in his lap, impaled on his cock, while he enjoys a package of cookies he hid in the top shelf a while ago.

“Knew you would be such a brat and dare to steal my cookies. Good thing I keep them locked where you can’t find them, what you do think, love?” Ransom asks with a grin on his face. The way his voice gets lower when he says ‘love’ makes you clench around him in anticipation.

He chuckles lowly, leaning further back in his armchair while thrusting up to make you whine. His cock is always a struggle to fit in, especially without preparation but the friction is way too good to have it any other way.

“Pussy is squeezing me, she’s begging me to forgive you for stealing my cookies and take prober care of her, isn’t she?” Ransom mocks softly, enjoying himself while he keeps thrusting his hips slightly — still not enough to provide enough friction to make you cum, but enough to make you squirm.

“Ran, please, I’m sorry. But need you so bad, please,” you whine, trying to push yourself up but one of his calloused hands grips your hips and keeps you steady on his lap.

Ransom keeps munching on his cookies, smirking when you desperately try to move your hips and clench around him to make him go just as crazy. “Be good, sit still and let me eat my cookie, then you will get my cock the way you want, the way my good girl deserves to get daddy’s thick cock.”

Taglist: @rogersbarber @loki-laufeyson68 @etherealdisneyvillainness @winterschildren8 @pono-pura-vida @kimmie113080 @sergeantbarnessdoll @sebastianstanisahotmf @mercurial-chuckles @holylulusworld @randomawesomeperson102 @looking1016 @multiversefanfics @blackhawkfanatic @armystay89 (add yourself.)