#ransom tw

[whumppmuhw]

Whumptober Day 7: Disowned by family*

*alternative prompt tw: family drama, ransom, kidnapping, restraints, betrayal, torture mention, scars, generational trauma/abuse

[potato-lord-but-not]

time’s a winding centipede, burrows in our memories, and that is all we’ll ever be

[holylulusworld]

Two can play a game

Summary: Your arranged marriage is far from perfect. When Ransom takes one step too far, you pay him back the best way possible.

Pairing: Mafia!Ransom Drysdale x fem!Reader, ???!Andy Barber x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, language, arranged marriage, Ransom being an asshole, cheating, implied cheating, mentions of sidepieces, making out, implied smut, mafia au

There he is, licking whipped cream off some bimbos’ tits. The woman moans and fakes she’s having fun. Just like some many greedy bitches wanting to get their hands on his wealth before.

Ransom Drysdale. Your husband. The self-declared gift to all women.

At the beginning of your arranged marriage, you easily overlooked his flaws and quirks. He was a good-looking and charming man, easily working his way into your heart and between your legs.

Ransom was passionate and sweet. Even if he was a little too cocky and arrogant for your taste. He was a prick to most people, including your friends. The only person he treated with respect was you.

Back then you believed this arranged marriage can work out.

Sometimes you even felt loved by your husband. And you reflected his feelings.

But all good things come to an end.

Your little bubble burst when you walked in on him railing one of the new maids. He didn’t even try to hide his infidelity. Proud of himself for leading you on, and making you believe you are more than a pawn to him.

Ransom declared your marriage is not a real marriage. Arranged marriages don’t count in his opinion. That’s what he said. His poor excuse for cheating on you.

Since that day, you refuse to sleep in the same room with him. Just like you didn’t let him touch you. The thought of riding the same dick he pushed into some bitch’s cunt was enough to leave your pussy dry most of the time when it comes to your husband.

“Oh, my beloved wife,” Ransom lifts his head from his latest conquest’s tits.

“Does she want to join us?” The girl squeaks as her eyes land on you.

Ransom grins, but you ignore the little pang in your chest. “Ah, better not. She’s frigid, you know.” He says to the girl he has on top of your kitchen counter.

“When you are done here, call someone to get rid of the kitchen counter. You never know where your little skank was before you found her on the sidewalk,” you snap at your husband.

He watches you open the fridge to get a bottle of water. “If you would excuse us now,” he grunts. “Or do you want to watch?” Ransom tries to rile you up. It’s a fight for dominance and you won’t lose it.

“Sorry, but limp dicks don’t do it for me, honey,” you bite back. “I’ll talk to our neighbor. He invited me over to talk about the next book we want to read. At least he’s got good taste.”

“See. That’s why I prefer fucking hot women like Cassie.”

“My name is Kathy,” the blonde protests. “Did you already forget my name?” She frowns deeply. “Ran?”

“He didn’t even listen when you told him your name.” You walk out of the kitchen, sway in your hips. “If you go home with Ransom Drysdale, you are destined to get disappointed. In any way. He doesn’t even know where to find your G-spot, and he won’t try to find it …

“Y/N, hey,” Andy smiles widely when you stand in front of his door. It happens ever so often since you found out about Ransom’s infidelity. “Bad day?”

You sniff and shake your head. “Do you have a drink with my name on it, Andy?” He opens the door wider to let you in. Andy doesn’t ask what happened. He waits for you to talk to him.

“Always, neighbor.” He closes the door behind you. “What can I offer to you.”

“Distraction, and maybe a place to stay for the night,” you lick your lips. “Ransom has company.” Your eyes drop to the diamond ring on your finger.

“He brought one of his sidepieces to your home,” Andy sounds almost shocked. Almost… “Why would he do such a thing?”

“He likes to play games.” You shrug. “I refused to play along and let him fuck me after I found out about his harem of bimbos. If only he was at least a himbo with a big dick.”

Andy nods thoughtfully when you finally explode.

“I had to let my doctor check me for STDs. Can you imagine how I felt? I’m married and ask them to run all the tests. I bet they believed I’m the one who cheated!” You start to pace the room. “I haven’t looked at another man.”

“Y/N, you need to take deep breaths,” Andy softly speaks to you. 

He looks at you with soft blue eyes, and fuck, he looks so good. Did he always look so good?

“No. I need to get this out.” You raise your hand. “I-I was always faithful. I could’ve fucked countless guys, but I didn’t. Because that’s not who I am, Andy.”

“I know. You’re a good girl,” he replies, making you stop in your tracks.

He looks at you, eyes drifting toward your lips. You take a breath, and another before you grab his face to kiss him. Andy doesn’t hesitate. He eagerly kisses you back.

Damn, he tastes even better. Like mint, and the coffee he drank. You cup the back of his neck and run your free hand over his back. He moans into you, tongue delving into your mouth.

“Fuck,” he wraps his arms around you and kisses you again. This time, he suckles at your tongue. “You taste so good.”

He laughs against you. “You too,” Andy nips at your lips. “Do you want this? I don’t want to take advantage of you. We can just talk a little and…”

You silence his doubts with your lips. “I wanted you the moment you moved in across the street four years ago.”

“Same,” he pants between kisses. “But you were married, and I was freshly divorced.” You grab the hem of his shirt, shoving it up to his arms. “Fuck, you looked so cute in your summer dress.”

“Yeah?” You whine as he buries his face in your neck. He kisses your skin, nipping and licking your sweet spot while you hastily unbuckle his belt. “What did you want to do with me?”

“Fuck you until you can’t walk straight.” Andy shoves his pants down his legs, stepping out of them.

“Just like right now?”

You gasp when he grips your hips to hoist you up and slam you into the wall, causing a few picture frames to drop to the ground.

Andy doesn’t seem to mind. He crushes his lips onto yours, kissing you passionately. You moan into his mouth and wrap your legs around his waistline.

“Right now,” he growls against you. All softness is gone when he looks at you pressed against the wall. “I wanna ruin you for him.”

“Ruin me. Make me yours,” you challenge. You allow him to grind his erection against your core and offer your body to him. All you want in return is to forget about your unfaithful husband.

“If you let me have you, I won’t allow you to go back to him. You’ll be mine,” Andy warns. “Name what you want.”

You whimper at his words. Ransom never asked what you want. No one ever did.

“You.” You breathlessly reply. “I want you. Make me forget about him.”

You roll to your side, smiling as your eyes land on the man next to you. Still, you hold your breath. What if this wasn’t the best idea you ever had?

What if he regrets what happened last night?

What if he breaks his promises and forgot about all the things he said to you while he claimed your body?

Andy dips his head to look at you. “Morning beautiful.” He rolls to his side to look at you. “Slept well?”

“Yeah,” you don’t know why your voice trembles. Maybe because you fear Andy is the same as your unfaithful husband. He seems so different from the prick you are married to, but you let a pretty face and charming personality fool you once.

Andy runs his hand over your arm, fingertips tickling your skin. “What do you want to do today?”

“I don’t know,” you answer. Honestly, after last night everything has changed. You only came to Andy’s house to seek shelter for a few hours, or one night.

Now that you gave in to your feelings, you cannot go back to Ransom and pretend it doesn’t break you to see how less you mean to him.

“How about we go to your house, deliver the divorce papers I prepared while you were sleeping, and pack your things? I’ll bring a few friends to help you carry the heavy stuff.”

You’re taken aback. “What?” Stammering you look at Andy who lovingly cups your cheek to press a soft kiss on your lips. “Andy, this isn’t funny. I need to think about what to do now. You don’t know my husband. He’s a prick, but also dangerous and he won’t let me walk out on him so easily.”

“You think I care?” Andy chuckles darkly. “Oh, beautiful. I told you that you are going to be mine when you let me, have you. Didn’t I?”

“Yes.” You remember vividly how you begged him to make you his, and only his. That you agreed to become his pretty little wife, and always cum for him. “That was in the heat of the moment. Wasn’t it?”

“Y/N, I dreamed of taking you out for years. Every time I wanted to ask you to leave your husband, you told me about him with so much adoration that I couldn’t make a move. But now that I know he fucked up, I can’t miss the chance.”

“Andy, I can’t end my marriage only to become someone else’s arm candy or his most prized possession. I’m not a toy, nor a brainless doll you can use.”

“Baby, I swear this isn’t how I see you,” Andy presses another soft kiss on your lips. “Let me help you. If you don’t want to be with me, I understand. All I want is to make sure that Ransom Drysdale leaves you the fuck alone.”

“Why?” You question.

“Because,” he kisses you again, slow and gentle, “I think I love you…”

“Y/N, what’s the douche from next door doing at my house,” Ransom follows you and Andy. “I’m talking to you!”

“Oh, I thought as you are busy disappointing one of your playthings with your limp dick,” you snap at Ransom. “I can bring a real man to satisfy my needs too.”

“Beautiful, why don’t you go upstairs and look for all the things you want to take with you? My friends will be here any minute.”

“Okay,” you nervously glance at Ransom. “Be careful. He’s dangerous.”

“Don’t worry, baby,” Andy pecks your cheek. “I’ll be careful.”

Turning his head toward Andy your husband’s features darken. “If you touched my wife, you are dead.” He pats the gun hidden under his jacket. “If you leave my house now, I’ll only break every bone in your body.”

Andy laughs into Ransom’s face.

“You’ve got no clue who I’m.” Stepping toward your husband, Andy sizes Ransom up. “Do you honestly believe you are scaring me? You’re nothing but a pathetic man cheating on his beautiful wife and,” Andy leans closer to Ransom to whisper in his ear. “I’m long enough in town to know that you are not on top of the food chain any longer. Your time is running out.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about!”

“The deal last week,” Andy smirks darkly, “the one you couldn’t seal? I took it over. Your business partners are my partners now. Your wife. Is mine. Your friends, mine too. I dismantled Ransom Drysdale piece by piece.”

“Why? How?”

“At first, I moved in next door to check your territory out. But then, I saw your wife and the way you treated her. She didn’t know you were a piece of shit cheating on her from day one.”

“You did all this for my wife?” Ransom hiccups. “You’re insane. Starting a war over some pussy!”

“You don’t get it,” Andy hisses. “Y/N is not some pussy to me. She’s everything, and I’ll make her my queen.”

While you look for the things you want to take with you, Andy threatens Ransom and his organization.

When you walk back down the stairs, your husband already signed the divorce papers. He will let you go and get out of town as fast as possible.

Ransom didn’t know that no one messes with Andrew Barber. The head of the Boston mafia. One of the deadliest men alive…

Tags in reblog.

[nuclearplutonium]

some pics I took from the new warriors comic part 1 -v-

I’m aware a lot of these are graystripe and firepaw ones lol

[onsunnyside]

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

[whumpetywhump]

Favourite Trope: Held Hostage (199/?) All That Glitters - Ep. 29

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[the-iceni-bitch]

You’ll Never Go Down to the Gods Again

Part X/X

Pairing: soft!stepbrother Alpha Ransom Drysdale x stepsister!fem Omega reader

Words: ~2.7k

Summary: You and Ransom navigate the aftermath of everything that’s happened, and finally start your new life together.

Chapter Warnings: explicit language, A/B/O, explicit sexual content (unprotected vaginal sex, knotting), pregnancy symptoms, mentions of violence (nothing in detail just referenced), minor manipulations, hints at other series in the AU, SMUT!! 18+ ONLY!!

A/N: It’s finished!!!! They’ve got their semi-happy ending and they made it all the way through. Our soft babies deserve all the happiness and safety and for nothing bad to happen to them ever again.

I am no longer doing taglists so if you want to stay up to date on all the latest filth, follow my sideblog @the-iceni-library and turn on notifications!

“Are you goddamn insane?” Ransom put his hands on his hips and drew in a deep breath as he stared at Harlan incredulously, tapping his foot and scoffing when the older man just shrugged and nodded. “I’m not a fucking politician.”

“Neither is he.” Harlan took a slow sip from his mug of coffee as he watched Ransom closely. “But as you’ve found out, the interests he’s controlled by are especially unsavory, whereas the only interest you’d be beholden to is mine.”

Ransom groaned as he sank into the chair on the other side of the desk, leaning his head back and letting his eyes fall closed as he tried to get a grip on himself.

He knew that asking for Harlan’s help would have strings attached, but this was something else. The two of you couldn’t be in the city anymore, though, not after idiots from your father’s church had started waiting outside the apartment to harass you and call you a filthy Omega slut every chance they got. Ransom was getting sick of calling the cops every fucking day, and he hated how absolutely terrified you had become. You’d practically refused to leave for your OB/GYN appointment yesterday, and it was making Ransom worried about your pup.

But Harlan could help you. He had the extra property outside of the city, access to medical personnel that would come directly to you, and private security, god the private security alone should make whatever he wanted from Ransom worth it. You were giving him his first great grandchild, he should have been willing to give you everything. And he was, but with his own price.

“She’s not coming on the campaign trail if I do this.” Ransom hated the thought of actually having to be a fucking dancing monkey for his grandfather, but then he remembered how panicked and distressed you had been when the brick had been thrown through your window three days ago, and how long it had taken him to settle you down and get you to sleep. “I’m not going to exploit her for political points.”

“Maybe you should have thought about that before you let the press run that story about her. Yes I know, you didn’t ‘let’ them, but they ran it, and now the Omega rights activists want a piece of her.” Harlan shook his head when Ransom buried his head in his hands and groaned again. “I agree with you, though, I don’t want her traveling right now. I will happily keep her and my great grandchild safe and happy no matter what, but that man is dangerous, and besmirching our family’s reputation, and you’ve afforded me a very unique opportunity to get rid of him.”

“By pimping me out?” Ransom snorted at the no nonsense look on Harlan’s face. “What about Linda?”

“Your mother took a calculated risk by marrying him, it’s not my fault it’s blowing up in her face.” Harlan sighed when Ransom still looked wary, tapping his fingertips on his desk and leaning forward with a small frown on his face. “He’s running unopposed, but the research shows that someone young and sympathetic could run away with the election easily. You won’t have to worry about her at all, I even have a new house just a little less than an hour away that I can set you both up in, and a secure estate in Washington for when you win the election.”

“If I win.” Ransom hadn’t worked a day in his life, he didn’t know why his grandfather was taking for granted that he could win a damn senate race.

“When, I’m backing you, and I only back winners.” The pleased smile teasing Harlan’s lips did not escape Ransom, the younger man blowing out a deep breath and giving him a resigned nod. “Excellent, I will set up a meeting for you with the speech writer and campaign manager later in the week. I want you both here at the manor until after the pregnancy, I have medical staff on site and I’d feel better knowing she has everything she needs without having to travel. Oh, hello dear!”

Ransom started when you shuffled into the room with Harlan’s nurse, he thought her name was Marla. You actually looked somewhat relaxed, and it made his heart melt, the small smile on your face getting wider when he rose to his feet and cradled your jaw in his hands as you chirped softly.

“How was your walk, bunny?” Ransom kissed the tip of your nose and chuckled at how chilly it was. “Is it cold outside?”

“Just a little, it’s nice though.” You purred when he slid a hand down to rest against your growing bump, placing your hand over his and scenting his cheek when you felt a small kick. “Pup seemed to like it, she’s been so active. And it’s beautiful and quiet, and the dogs are so sweet.”

“I’m so glad, bunny.” Ransom took a deep breath and gave Harlan a sideways look before leaning down to rub your noses together. “Would you like to stay here for a bit, bunny? Harlan has agreed to let us stay here until she comes while he helps me find a new place outside of the city.”

“Really?” You looked so happy, beaming with watery eyes when Ransom nodded and turning to Harlan. “Oh, thank you so much, Mr. Thrombey, the city is so terrifying and there’s too many people, I just…”

“Oh, my dear girl, it’s alright.” Harlan stood up and took your hands in his when you started crying happy tears, smiling warmly at you while Ransom rested his chin on the top of your head. “And you need to start calling me Harlan, you're carrying my great granddaughter. You are always welcome here.”

“Thank you, Harlan.” You drew in a shuddering breath and chirped again when Ransom slid his arms around you and kissed your temple. “I promise we’ll treat your house like our own, we can’t thank you enough.”

“Al-alpha…” you whined when Ransom grunted against your neck as he drove his cock into you again, your cunt spasming around him when you came without warning as his balls smacked against your clit. “More, don’t stop.”

“Greedy little bunny.” Ransom cooed and grinned into your shoulder when you just shoved your hips back and bit your pillow as you made desperate noises for him. “You’ve already had three, how many more do you want?”

“All of them, please…” you didn’t even care when you felt warmth starting to stream down your chest while he squeezed your breasts, your arms giving out and your toes curling when he brought you to the edge again right away. “It’s so good.”

“It is so good, Omegamine.” Ransom chuffed and sucked on your mark when he felt you gushing all over his thighs. “This poor pussy is so needy, so hungry all the time.”

“Mmhm.” You gasped and your back arched violently when you came again, your swollen belly brushing against the bed while your pussy squirted for him. “Need my Alpha, don’t want you to go.”

“Oh, bunny, shit.” Ransom slowed down when he heard the emotion in your voice, cradling your chin gently and turning your head so he could press his lips to yours. “I hate it too, sweet girl, but I have to do these town halls.”

“I know, oh!” Your eyes fluttered closed when his knot swelled and locked you together, sighing when you were flooded with warmth and he rolled the both of you onto your sides. “I understand, but she’s going to be here so soon, I worry about you missing it.”

“I won’t miss our girl finally getting here, I promise.” Ransom stroked your hair as your breathing started to slow down, kissing your cheek and rumbling for you when you started fussing with the blankets and your milk soaked nightie. “Harlan said he’d send a helicopter if I need it, he would kill me if I wasn’t here for you.”

“He would, wouldn’t he?” You giggled a little when Ransom nibbled on your ear, winding your fingers through his when he rested them on your stomach.

“Yes, he would.” Feeling you relax made Ransom smile against your cheek. “I’m pretty sure he likes you more than me.”

“Mmhm.” You peeked at him over your shoulder and sank your body into his when he trailed soft kisses along your jaw. “Just promise me you’ll be home tonight?”

“I promise.” He kissed your mark almost reverently as his hand rubbed your belly gently and crooned against your skin. “I’ll always come home to you.”

“No.” Ransom frowned when he looked over the agreement Andy had placed in front of him, tossing it on the desk and leaning back in his chair while the bearded man let out a deep sigh. “I told you, she’s not testifying. Tell the DA she can have a written statement or come up with a better plea agreement so she doesn’t have to go to trial. She’s not setting foot in a courtroom with that bastard.”

“DA isn’t gonna like that.” Andy shrugged and grabbed the takeout container he had set aside. “She’ll get over it though, she likes me. Hates that fucker, she wants to nail him to the damn wall.”

“Good.” Ransom snarled when his thoughts dwelled on Lance for just a few seconds, wishing like he did every time that he had killed the asshole when he had the chance. “Hope she cuts his fucking knot off.”

“She would if she could.” Andy snorted before shoving some noodles into his mouth. “Can you get her statement to me by next month?”

“I think so.” Ransom cocked his brow at Andy when the man practically growled when his paralegal came into the room to hand him some paperwork, not missing how his eyes raked over her possessively when she walked away before he turned his attention back to his friend. “Pup is due any day and that could put a dent in it, but I’ll get it as soon as I can.”

“Alright, that’s fine.” Andy tossed his empty container and followed Ransom when he stood up to leave. “I think there’s press outside, man. You wanna head out the back?”

“No, I’m used to them.” Ransom sighed as he steeled himself. “They’ve been up my ass ever since the election. I’m hoping they’ll calm down by the time we’re in Washington.”

Andy just nodded as he held the door open for Ransom, squinting against the sudden flashing of camera bulbs and snorting before turning to head back to his office. Ransom just clenched his jaw when they started shouting questions at him, shaking his head at being bombarded with inquiries about where you were, were you going to testify, was the baby here yet, were you going to go with him to Washington…

“My wife was the victim of an extremely heinous crime, and is still the target of multiple threats from her father’s congregation. I will not entertain any questions that invade her privacy.” Ransom frowned when one of them asked what names you had picked out. “Nor will I be discussing our child. The election was tumultuous enough, all you need to know is that she will not be testifying, she will not be taking part in any of the numerous activist campaigns that have been harassing her, and that we appreciate you respecting our requests for privacy and discretion while our family does its best to recover from an incredibly difficult year, good night.”

He ignored their continued questions and climbed into the beemer, slamming the door behind him and drawing in a deep breath as he started the engine. Ransom pulled out his phone when he felt it vibrating, almost dropping it when he saw the message and peeling out as he dialed frantically.

“Harlan!” Ransom winced when he ran right through a red light, taking a turn a bit faster than advisable and slamming into the door since he forgot to buckle up. “Please tell me she just started.”

“She did, contractions are about five minutes apart, so you have time.” Harlan trailed off when you called out for Ransom, the need in your voice making your mate press the gas pedal all the way down to the floor and pray that no cops would be between the city and Harlan’s manor. “The doctor is monitoring her very closely and pleased with how she’s doing so far, but she wants you.”

“Twenty minutes.” Ransom finally hit the open road and breathed a sigh of relief, watching the speedometer creep up while he tried to remain calm. “I’ll be there soon.”

He made it in fifteen, slamming the front door open without a second thought and sprinting up the stairs when he heard you moan. You looked so beautiful when he finally saw you, already slick with sweat and doing your breathing exercises while Marta held your hand and told you how good you were doing.

“Alpha…” you tried to smile at him but could only groan when another contraction wracked your body, your grip on Marta’s hand tightening until Ransom replaced it with his own and sitting behind you on the bed so you could lean against him for support. “She’s coming fast, my water already broke.”

“It’s alright, it’s common with first births.” The doctor gave you and Ransom a reassuring smile when he frowned at her, checking your blood pressure again and nodding when Ransom started scenting you and rumbling to help soothe you. “You are doing so well, honey, very brave.”

“Yes, so brave, bunny.” Ransom kissed your hair when you let out a shuddering breath, letting you hold his hands tightly and matching his breathing to yours while he felt you tensing up again. “Just keep breathing, Omega, you’re so good.”

You felt infinitely better with Ransom there, able to relax even through the pain and smiling each time he kissed your cheek or your temple and told you how proud he was of you. Even though later they told you it had taken six hours, it felt like it took no time at all, Ransom holding your knees up to your chest and helping you push when you felt like you couldn’t anymore once the doctor had gotten everyone else out of the room.

“Almost there, just one more big push, mommy.” The doctor gave you a small smile when you nodded tersely, guiding the baby’s body out of you while you screamed. “Here’s the head, and shoulders, and here she is!”

The first loud cry from your daughter had you breaking down into the most joyous tears of your life, shaking in Ransom’s arms and beaming at him when he kissed you like you were the air he breathed. You had never been happier, sobbing and letting Ransom stand up so he could cut the cord.

“Oh, shit.” Ransom felt his own tears leaking down his cheeks when they bundled her up and placed her into his arms, laughing when she kept squalling and wriggling like a little fiend. “Bunny, she’s so beautiful. She’s amazing, I can’t believe we made her.”

“Let me see her.” You were still crying when he came to sit next to you, cooing when he placed her into your arms and leaning against him as he pressed soft kisses all over your cheek. “She’s so perfect, our pup. Amelia Clementine Drysdale. I want to give her everything, Alpha.”

“We will, I promise.” Ransom didn’t think such euphoria could ever be possible, gazing at you and then back at your daughter and knowing that he would do anything either of you wanted for the rest of your lives. “I will keep you both safe, nothing will ever happen to you as long as I’m here. My sweet Omega. I love you, Bunny.”

You purred and started scenting your pup while he wound you in his arms, peeking up at him through your lashes and feeling warmth bloom in your chest as you felt the deepest love and affection flowing through the bond, knowing that no matter what happened, he would always be your Alpha.

[terrence-silver]

What would Terry (all eras) do if beloved was kidnapped? Say the perpetrators leave a ransom note wanting money and a polaroid of Beloved with a busted lip or something… I’d like to see how you think he’d react

I don't think anyone should validly antagonize a former military man who used to be a Green Beret and it's highly implied he was a Spec Ops too back in Vietnam. Not withstanding that he's a martial arts master as well and a ferocious one at that. One who quite literally believes in no mercy --- and even though Terry Silver's army training is undoubtedly very much left underexplored, just basic logic demands that if someone his got abducted and violently taken, this man would be more than capable of going out there and personally retrieving them if push came to shove. Like, I firmly believe that. All of his talk about awakening 'killer instincts' aren't in vain seeing as how I feel and it's very much an indicator of what he's willing to do and what he has, undoubtedly, done before. Sure, a man of his wealth and connections could very well hire investigators, alert authorities or pay private professional hitmen to do the job for all we know --- but no --- stuff like this, I think Terry would want, need and love to do it personally. With fierce vengeance at that.

These kidnappers striked first and drew blood when they hurt beloved.

[queen-paladin]

Always thinking of her (female character who is punished by the narrative for not being “as cool” as another female character)

[holylulusworld]

His maid

Summary: He wants to get his hands on you.

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Maid(plussized)!Reader

Warnings: Ransom being an asshole, kinda harassment, I’ll label this one dub-con, maid kink, smut, unprotected sex,light spanking, doggy style, sex over/on a kitchen counter, language, whore, slut, cum dumpster, creampie, slut-shaming, Sir kink, daddy kink, plot twist

A/N: Sweater daddy is back…👀👀

Random snaps his fingers, grunting as Fran ignores him. “Help!” Ransom mutters. “Who’s that?” He points at you standing next to Harlan Thrombey, your new employer. “FRANNIE, I’m talking to you.”

“That’s the new maid, Y/N. She will take over my job for a few weeks. I got to take care of my mother,” Fran rolls her eyes as Ransom undresses you with his eyes. “She’s a nice person. Leave her alone, Hugh.”

“Who asked you,” he bites back. “What a nice little bee landing in my spiderweb.” Ransom smirks darkly. His eyes drift toward your plump ass, and he can’t help it. He roughly cups his crotch.

“HUGH!” Fran can’t believe Ransom sometimes. “You know the word sexual harassment, right?”

“I didn’t think about you, Frannie,” he snickers but drops his hand from his crotch. He will be damned if he doesn’t feel your sweet cunt wrapped around him. So far he seduced all maids Harlan hired. Well, all maids but Fran.

Ransom’s features darken as you run one hand over your skirt to straighten it. He growls low in his throat, already imagining slapping your cheeks with his large hands. “Oh yeah, my chubby little maid. I’ll fuck the sweetness out of you…”

“Fuck,” you exclaim as you drop the broom in your hands. Ransom scared the shit out of you when he sneaked behind you.

“Help, I need you to clean the mess in the guestroom.”

“Mess?”

“Mess. Now, hop-hop, bunny,” he purrs in your ear. Ransom steps even closer, almost pressing his heated body against your smaller frame. “I hate sleeping on dirty sheets.”

“But I just changed the sheets!” there is still so much to do, and you’ve got no time for Ransom’s nonsense. Fran warned you, and she didn’t exaggerate.

“Well, that was before I fucked that sweet bunny last night,” he breathes into your neck. “I hate sleeping on cum and pussy juices, you know. I can still smell her cum. She came so hard on my fingers.”

“If you can’t use your dick right, you have to use what you got,” you quip. Ransom grunts as you grab the broom and make your way toward the kitchen. “I’ll clean your room later. I need to take care of the mess in the kitchen first.”

“No. You will take care of the guestroom first,” Ransom follows you. “Harlan is not around this week. I’m here to take care of the house, and you will do as I say.”

“Harlan wants me to keep the kitchen and bathrooms sparkling clean,” you turn around to size Ransom up. “I will take care of your room later, Sir.”

He inhales sharply. His dick twitches in his pants as you give him a sweet pout. God, how he wants to break your body and mind. “Fine. Have it your way. Be aware I will not forget your insubordination.”

“We are not in the army, Ransom,” you snicker. “You’re not my boss either. Don’t get your thong in a twist.”

“Damnit, she makes me rock-hard that little minx. For weeks she resists me and my dick. I need to have her…”

“Ransom, it’s two in the morning. Why did you call me to come here?” you rub your still-tired eyes as Ransom lets you inside the mansion. “What’s so important it couldn’t wait till later?”

“You did not clean my room,” he lies.

“I did clean the guestroom. I even disinfected the mattress knowing what you did inside with all these women,” you snap at him. “If you’ll excuse me now, I’ll drive back home and take the day off.”

“I got a new working outfit for you too,” Ransom grins. This can’t be good. “A maid should wear a proper uniform, right? I bought it for you.”

“What? Harlan said it’s fine to wear my normal clothes.”

You follow Ransom inside, already fearing the worst. Ransom buying an outfit for you can’t be good.

“Here it is.” He grins from ear to ear as he holds up two garters. Ransom twirls them around his index finger, smirking darkly. “I got a nice maid uniform for you too.”

“That’s sexual harassment, Ransom!”

“It’s Hugh for the help but,” he steps closer to place the garters in your hands, “I’ll make an acceptation for you, sweetness.”

“I won’t wear this shit,” you drop the garters to the ground. “If you don’t stop, I’ll call Harlan. You know, he won’t be amused hearing you wanted me to wear this!”

You twirl around and stomp toward the door. “I know you will change your mind, bunny. One way or another…”

“Sweetness. My chubby bunny,” Ransom coos as he waltzes into the kitchen. You’re busy scrubbing the kitchen counter and ignore him. “We need to talk about the broken vase in the living room. You know, that was Grandpa’s favorite.”

“What broken vase?” you drop the sponge and turn around to look at Ransom. “Not ten minutes ago there wasn’t a broken vase!”

“I think you forgot you and your plump ass kicked it off the table,” his features darken as you look at him like deer in headlights. “I could tell Harlan it was me, though. If only you give me a reason to do so.”

He holds up the maid outfit and the garters again. “No.”

“It’s only fair, bunny. I’ll give the world to get my hands on you,” he dips his head and looks you up and down. “I want you to wear this and clean the kitchen. Maybe I will help you too.”

“I don’t believe you.”

You make a beeline around Ransom to get to the living room. If he fucked with you again, you’ll call Harlan this time.

“No. Why did you do this?” you cry as the vase lies on the ground. Shattered. Broken. “That was Harlan’s favorite!”

“Let me help you, bunny,” he waves the flimsy outfit in front of your face. “Just give in. I know you touched yourself moaning my name. You get off on the way I treat you. I will give you all you need. A thick cock to make you stop overthinking things.”

“If I wear this, will you tell Harlan it was you?” you grab the outfit and garters, swallowing thickly as Ransom purrs your name.

“I’ll tell him it was me if you do as I say tonight, and for the rest of the week.” You shudder, but nod. “You’re such a sweet bunny for me.”

“Fuck, that’s perfect,” Ransom groans loudly as you bend over the kitchen island to scrub it. “Lift your skirt, show me that perfect ass.”

You roll your eyes but lift the short skirt to show Ransom you are wearing the garters. One on each thigh, and nothing else underneath.

“I want you to scrub this counter sparkling clean, maid,” he tuts as you look over your shoulder. “But spread those legs first and show me your cunt.”

“I hate this,” you mutter under your breath, but do as he says. You spread your legs and bend even further to give him a good look at your soaked cunt.

“You love it, little slut,” he steps toward the counter to slap your ass roughly. Your cheeks jiggle and he does it again. “You’re a whore for my cock, just like every other bitch I fucked.”

Ransom grips your ass and roughly kneads your globes. “A hole to get filled with my cum,” he slaps your ass harder, making you cry out. “You’ll take my cock and thank me later after I screwed your brains out.”

“Yes, Sir…” you mumble.

“You will scrub this counter better, slut. I want to eat from the counter. If you can’t clean it properly, you’ll lick it clean with your tongue.”

You harrumph but scrub the counter even harder. It’s a struggle to focus as Ransom kicks his shoes off. You hear his clothes ruffling and his pants drop to the ground.

“Such a nice maid I have,” he grips your hips to press your ass into his crotch. You can feel his cock against your flesh. Pre-cum smears all over your skin, and you quiver as he moves his hands to your chest to rip the blouse you’re wearing open.

Your breasts spill out of the torn fabric, and he immediately cups your plush flesh.

“I knew you are going to be mine,” he purrs in your ear as he harshly tugs at your nipples. You whine as he rolls the pebbled nubs between his skilled fingers.

You hate to admit it, but slick runs down your thighs for Ransom Drysdale. The worst guy you ever met.

“How will you sing when I’m finally inside of you to ruin this pussy. I bet it will be a symphony if you already moan like a bitch in heat when I touch your tits.”

“I hate you.”

“I know,” he bites your earlobe, tugging at it while groping your tits. He won’t let up. Ransom grinds his painfully hard cock into your ass, groaning as you push back onto him. “It makes this even hotter. You will take my cock and call me anything I want to. You’re such a slut for me.”

Words are lost on you when Ransom movies his hands toward your hips. “Put your hands on the counter and shut your mouth. Daddy is going to fuck you know and you will love it.”

You bite your lower lip as he guides the tip toward your dripping hole. He teases your entrance with the wide head.

“Beg me.”

He pushes the tip in, only to pull back out. “Beg me!” He warns and slaps your cheek this time. “Slut!”

“Please.”

“You can do better.”

Another slap and another hit your cheek. “Please fuck me.”

“That’s much better,” he runs his hand over your stinging cheek and guides the tip back in. “Tell me how much you want my cock.”

“I need it so bad, Sir.”

Ransom pushes into you completely, ignoring that your walls fight the intrusion of his thick length. He immediately starts to give you shallow thrusts, and slowly pumps into you.

“Now you will move that perfect ass and fuck this slicked cunt on my cock. You won’t stop until you came all over me and milked me dry.”

You place your hands flat on the kitchen counter to brace yourself before you slowly start to move back and forth his length. “Such a good girl, fucking her slutty hole on my cock.”

He slaps your ass again, making you yelp. “Faster, bunny. I want you to sweat a little. We are not here to make love.”

“I’m doing my best,” you pant. “I worked all day, and now you want me to work your cock too.”

“Aw, my little bunny is tired, huh? Maybe you are too tired for an orgasm too. Do you want me to pull out and jerk off? I could cum all over your ass and paint it with my cream.”

“Please. No.”

You move a little faster.

“Faster, bunny,” he grunts and slaps your cheeks with both hands. “I want you to fuck me as if your life depends on it. Come on, do your job. I want you to work harder for me.”

“You don’t even know how to work hard.”

You push back harder onto his cock. “You want me to work this cunt, huh? Really? Cause I will ruin it once you let me have control.”

“Show me, Daddy…”

He makes an odd noise. “You asked for it.”

Ransom grips your hips harder, leaving bruises you will feel in the morning. Right now, you couldn’t care less because he starts to drag you onto his thick cock, making your tits bounce at the force of his thrusts.

He grunts, and curses as your cunt feels snug and warm around his length.

Ransom speeds up as you finally give him what he wanted all along. You moan and scream his name while scratching your nails over the kitchen counter.  

“I will cum inside of you and fill you up with my spunk. When I’m done with you, I’ll take a picture and send it to Harlan. He will see you are nothing but my cum dumpster.”

It doesn’t matter Ransom is the worst. Your body ignores he makes you sick as his cock just feels too good inside of you.

He slams into you, shouting your name as his dick twitches deep within you. Ransom grips your shoulders, holding you down on the kitchen counter as he keeps on moving. “Fucking cum, princess. Now.”

“Yes. Daddy,” you whine as your walls quiver around his softening cock. His cum along with your juices run down your thighs when he pulls out to slap your pussy lips. “Thank you.”

“Anytime, bunny. Now spread those legs and let me take a picture…”

“I loved it when you cleaned the kitchen counter in the costume,” Ransom snickers darkly. “What do we want to try next, bunny? I could be your boss and you are my naughty secretary, or how about I’m a plumper and clean your pipes?”

“If you explain to Harlan why I quit, and that I never was his maid in the first place, I consider doing another roleplay.”

Ransom gently kneads the knots out of your shoulders and hums. Your boyfriend is obsessed with roleplays and you are more than eager to encourage his kink.

“I got it! You are a waitress and drop food into my lap. You will ride my dick for punishment…”

Tags in reblog.

[kabie-whump]

WoW Birthday Whump Day 11

Prompt: Used as bait / Held for ransom / “It’s a trap!” Additional Content: kidnapping, bound and gagged, drugged whumpee, guns

Whumpee can’t see anything through the blindfold, but they’d know the sound of Caretaker’s voice anywhere.

“Let them go.”

Whumpee tries to shake their head, but they feel so tired, so disconnected from their body. They’re not even sure if the movement happens at all.

“Do you have the money?” Whumper’s voice comes from right next to Whumpee, making them flinch a little.

A thumping sound. “It’s all there.”

Footsteps. The sound of little metal latches opening one-by-one. “Very good.”

“Now let them go.”

Ooh, Caretaker sounds angry. Angry enough to make stupid mistakes like they always do when Whumpee isn’t there to discourage them.

“In a moment, dear. Let me count it first.”

Alarm bells ring in Whumpee’s head as they listen to the crisp flipping of bills in Whumper’s hands.. They try to remember something Whumper had been saying to their henchmen earlier. Something about being ready to grab Caretaker… Shit.

“Caretaker!” Whumpee tries to talk through the gag in their mouth but it comes out muffled. “It’s a trap!”

An unseen hand strikes Whumpee across thier face. A henchman, perhaps? It makes Whumpee feel like their body is spinning on a spit, trapped forever in the momentum of the slap even though they know they’re stationary. Whatever drugs Whumper had given them must be really strong. Whumpee’s never felt this messed up before.

“Don’t hurt them!”

A click right next to Whumpee’s ear, then a sharp gasp from Caretaker.

A whispered voice. “One more word and I blow your little friend’s brains out.”

Silence from Caretaker.

“Good. Now, my friend here’s going to search you and then tie you up. Don’t move a muscle.”

[onsunnyside]

³¹.⍭ 𝐊𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐚

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, chase kink, daddy kink, unprotected sex (p in v, anal), double penetration. specific warnings in each part.

𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | Don't get sad, get even. Based on this post.

𝗧𝗼𝘁𝗮𝗹 𝗪/𝗖 | 8.23K

𝗔/𝗡 | happy halloween, besties !! and happy smutty-tober finale. this is not quite a battle of the boyfriends but more like revenge of the boyfriends. Heed all warnings, you are responsible for your media consumption. No gifs/photos belong to me [pinterest board], all credits go to the original creators, but the visual was made by me.

Feel free to send asks about this series!

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

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

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𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒: (1/2)

1/2

2/2 - postponed

𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐎𝟑 | 𝐏𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐁𝐨𝐚𝐫𝐝

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𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬: #karma drabble

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Characters: reader | ari | steve | curtis | ransom

[aceofwhump]

Outlander 7x04 - William Ransom whump part 2

[angst-after-dark]

CW: LADY WHUMP, BBU/BBU-ADJACENT SETTING, BROKEN BONES, DEATH THREATS, DEHUMANIZATION, RECORDED TORTURE, RANSOM VIDEO

Taglist/General Writing Taglist: @flowersarefreetherapy @oddsconvert @siren-of-agony @gottawhump @winedark-whump

The click of boots against damp concrete, the sound metallic, was the first noise to pierce her consciousness, quiet but out of place and therefore startling. Her eyes didn't want to open, heavy like lead. The pounding in her head certainly didn't make the idea of moving appealing. She swallowed, throat impressively dry and clicking. Her tongue sand papery and limp in her mouth, feeling out of place.

“Smile for the camera!” Shorty chirped. 

Kestrel blinked, head swimming once more, and pulled against the ropes that secured her to the chair. The restraint had grown too tight to move, but the shield could still shake her head – for the time being. They responded to her struggle by tightening further.

“No, no, no,” the torturer chided, in the tone of talking to a child. “You have to keep still, or it’ll come out blurry.”

“Smile, Ms. Diaz."

Even immobilized, she could still scowl – there was nothing her captor could do about that – but Shorty seemed to have decided that this was as good as it would get. He’d walked back to slip under the cloth that shielded the back of the camera. 

The flash flared bright magnesium, startling and blinding her. She jerked, instinctively wrenching her head away. Pain shot down her neck. The light from the camera temporarily blinded her with splotches of black, white and red.

Lanky was less than pleased. The bat scraped across the floor as he crossed the room towards her. She stiffened, knowing he was close.

Something hard and merciless connected with her kneecap. She jumped, startled at the noise. It echoed in the wine cellar as loud as a gunshot and for a moment she had half a mind to check if she’d been wounded. She didn't have the chance. Her body flashed hot. 

Cold. Ice filled her veins. Everything froze. 

Her brain, her body, even the air she'd taken to scream seemed to hang suspended in between the shock and the inevitable pain she was going to feel. 

The world spun around her, the concrete floor beneath her feet shifting, and Kestrel strained against the restraints that held her firmly against the chair as she doubled over. What little she’d eaten for breakfast leapt into her throat, threatening to evict itself from her lurching stomach. 

The chair dug into her back, a minute annoyance compared to the searing pain in her knee. She breathed hard, still looking at the concrete floor. 

Lanky’s unoccupied hand shot out and grasped his hair, twisting it painfully before wrenching his head back, forcing her to look directly into the camera.

She flinched.She swallowed and shuddered at the strain on her throat, bracing herself for what would come next.

The red light of a flashing video camera appeared through the curtain of curls that’s fallen over her face. She stared at it for a moment, panting. The sting of tears as they leapt to her eyes and made a trail down her cheeks. 

“Come now, Ms. Diaz. You’re going to have to do a bit better than that. How will your masters know you need rescuing if you keep quiet?”

“I told you,” she rasped. She couldn't bite back a groan. The tears hadn't stopped. Malcolm would be pissed she’d cried. What happened to die quietly? She was supposed to be the best of the best. “They won't pay. We're meant to die.”

We're replaceable. She thought. Expensive, but replaceable.

There was a long, painful moment of anticipation. 

“I fractured your knee cap, “ he said, lifting his foot up and pressing on the aforementioned injury with the toe of his shoe. 

She finally gave him what he wanted. 

A ragged scream escaped her lips.

She closed her eyes when the screams morphed out into sobs and those sobs finally petered out. 

Lanky glared at her. She watched him carefully, the pain filling her brain with a heavy haze. He chewed on the inside of his lip and swallowed hard. “If they don’t pay, I’m going to kill you.”

He hurried out of the basement, slamming the door closed. Kestrel listened to his footsteps as he climbed the stairs outside. With every breath entering and leaving her lungs, she waited for death. 

The little red dot of light bored holes into her skull. Recording every second for later use. Wick would watch this. He'd be discouraged but he'd insist on watching.

When she settled again, she stared long and hard at the camera, trying to think of something more to say. Maybe tell a joke or two, to lighten the mood. Get a grin out of him while she still could.

“......it's okay,” she whispered and then, louder, pushing past the pain. She forced a smile, choked out a laugh. Her voice stayed light - as if she were coaxing him to sleep, as if they were discussing a missed shot in basketball. That's all this was, “It's okay, Mx. It's okay to turn it off.”

Shorty hadn't left yet. 

His grin was sadistic as he picked up where Lanky had left off. He swung the bat, catching her in the ribs, a loud snapping echoing throughout the musty air, accompanied by her strangled, pathetic squeak. Her breath came out in sharp, quick, shallow inhales. It took her almost forty seconds to suck in enough air to begin talking again.

Turning back to face the camera, the man crouched down so Kestrel was in full view. Once again, she fell back on a prayer. One Therese Diaz knew by heart, had memorized in her youth on her grandmother’s knee. One the training program had tried to bury when remaking her into Leigh Kestrel.

She couldn’t move, couldn’t free or even protect herself, but she could do this, she could pray.

Santa María, Madre de Dios,

ruega por nosotros pecadores,

ahora y en la hora de nuestra muerte.

Pray for us sinners, now and in the hour of our death.

[jasvvy]

[merakiui]

Sneaky omega Jade who uses his pheromones to get what he wants. He is absolutely weak for tiny demanding alphas because while he can crush them, all it takes is one strong scent from his alpha and it’s all over for him.

Alpha Azul has my heart. He practically breathes breeding kink and you can’t say no to his deals because while you’re trying to parse through legalese in curly script, he’s filling the air with enticing smells.

Omega Floyd who’s a complete brat, but smells so sweet when he’s nuzzling into you. Loves it when his little alpha uses their commanding voice and *tries* to manhandle him.

Ugggghjjjh, just so many things to think about.

If the tweels don’t have the same designation, they’ll tease the other when it comes to impending heats/ruts, but they will body their partners if their twin doesn’t get treated right.

Yes omg!!! And he makes for such a cute bottom in bed, too. T_T Jade will tease you for as long as he can keep a clear head, but when he's truly, fully in heat and can't think of anything else but how nicely you smell and how good you feel he eventually submits. He'll get his revenge when he's not so heat-brained, but for now keep making him feel good. <3

Alpha Azul...... orz alpha Azul definitely uses his scent to his advantage when he's trying to get you to sign contracts. Your mind will be so fuzzy and disoriented and you'll likely leave his VIP room having signed his contract. He absolutely breathes breeding kink; you're so right!!!! He wants nothing more than to knock you up with lots of children so that you'll never have a chance to think about leaving him. I think alpha Azul also might pretend to be an omega just to gain your trust and lower your guard (you might even think he's harmless because he's an omega), so when he offers to help you through your heats/ruts you might be more likely to accept. But then in the midst of everything, he ends up knotting you because it turns out he was secretly an alpha all along. :)

And omega Floyd aaaa!! He's very cute and sweet, but so very needy when he's in heat. It doesn't matter if you're an alpha with a stronger scent; Floyd still dominates you even when he's so overwhelmed by his heat. He's insatiable and cums inside so many times until he can no longer cum anymore and is just mindlessly rutting into you. As much as he marks you, he wants you to mark him in return so that he can proudly show off the bites and bruises. No matter what, he's always shameless.