#cash ransom

[thenukacolachallenge]

I've been so incredibly curious about Cash Black! If you're taking asks for the OC details game --

🤔 THINKING FACE — what are some of your oc's quirks/mannerisms?

🍎 RED APPLE — where was your oc born? do they still live in/around their place of birth or do they live somewhere else? how do they feel about their birthplace?

aaaa thank you! i have Cash in both the Mortal Kombat universe and in Fallout: New Vegas, for these asks i'll do FNV Cash!

"🤔 THINKING FACE — what are some of your oc's quirks/mannerisms?"

so Cash is naturally a fidgeter! i headcanon she has adhd(bc i have it lol), so she's always fiddling with something between her fingers when she's trying to concentrate - usually a cigarette, but also lighters, bullets, small guns, even cutlery when she's eating!

one of her other biggest quirks is living to get on people's nerves. she loves to try the patience of people around her, and will push buttons for fun. she especially likes to practice harmonica around the campfire when Boone is trying to sleep. she will let ED-E chase Arcade around(in my headcanon, ED-E just wants to be friends with Arcade the way he is with Cash lol; this was inspired by one playthrough where i watched Arcade run from ED-E on the roller coaster tracks in Primm lmao), she likes to get huggy when she's drunk to her entire crew(they travel as a caravan-style group in my headcanon), and she especially loves to fuck with stuffy NCR high-ranks like Cassandra Moore and Thomas Hildern. she's the human embodiment of annoyance when she finds it funny lmao.

"🍎 RED APPLE — where was your oc born? do they still live in/around their place of birth or do they live somewhere else? how do they feel about their birthplace?"

Cash was born in rural post-War Nevada! her first few years were out on a remote homestead with her birth parents. she ended up orphaned through circumstance and was found wandering the desert by her adoptive father, Richard "Pops" Black, a caravan guard. for the rest of her childhood and teen years, she traveled between the Nevada trade routes and the Big Circle in NCR territory with her Pops, and many other routes after his passing, her brief stint in the Scorpions gang, and her time as a courier pre-Benny. She's most comfortable out in the Mojave where she grew up, and after the events of FNV, she tends to stick close to the Mojave, as she considers the roads out there her home.

thanks so much for asking about Cash! i love her so much and im currently learning how to setup mods on PC so i can finally do a proper Cash Black FNV playthrough the way i've always wanted it to go!!! i have a post that goes into more detail of her life and choices during the course of the game here, and of course i have my "fnv cash" tag full of specific info about her story as well as memes that remind me of her! and of course her masterlist, if you wanna learn about her in MKverse! thank you so much for the asks :D

[alexotls]

i think doppio is not necessarily a better dad than diavolo btw he's just more fun. given free rein he would let trish eat ice cream and ritz crackers for every meal because he trusts that his very intelligent and capable 7-year-old daughter knows what she's doing

[trollbreak]

What if ransom junie mom friends together……

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Prison-tech is a scam - and a harbinger of your future

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/14/minnesota-nice/#shitty-technology-adoption-curve

Here's how the shitty technology adoption curve works: when you want to roll out a new, abusive technology, look for a group of vulnerable people whose complaints are roundly ignored and subject them to your bad idea. Sand the rough edges off on their bodies and lives. Normalize the technological abuse you seek to inflict.

Next: work your way up the privilege gradient. Maybe you start with prisoners, then work your way up to asylum seekers, parolees and mental patients. Then try it on kids and gig workers. Now, college students and blue collar workers. Climb that curve, bit by bit, until you've reached its apex and everyone is living with your shitty technology:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/02/24/gwb-rumsfeld-monsters/#bossware

Prisoners, asylum seekers, drug addicts and other marginalized people are the involuntary early adopters of every form of disciplinary technology. They are the leading indicators of the ways that technology will be ruining your life in the future. They are the harbingers of all our technological doom.

Which brings me to Minnesota.

Minnesota is one of the first states make prison phone-calls free. This is a big deal, because prison phone-calls are a big business. Prisoners are literally a captive audience, and the telecommunications sector is populated by sociopaths, bred and trained to spot and exploit abusive monopoly opportunities. As states across America locked up more and more people for longer and longer terms, the cost of operating prisons skyrocketed, even as states slashed taxes on the rich and turned a blind eye to tax evasion.

This presented telco predators with an unbeatable opportunity: they approached state prison operators and offered them a bargain: "Let us take over the telephone service to your carceral facility and we will levy eye-watering per-minute charges on the most desperate people in the world. Their families – struggling with one breadwinner behind bars – will find the money to pay this ransom, and we'll split the profits with you, the cash-strapped, incarceration-happy state government."

This was the opening salvo, and it turned into a fantastic little money-spinner. Prison telco companies and state prison operators were the public-private partnership from hell. Prison-tech companies openly funneled money to state coffers in the form of kickbacks, even as they secretly bribed prison officials to let them gouge their inmates and inmates' families:

https://www.motherjones.com/politics/2019/02/mississippi-corrections-corruption-bribery-private-prison-hustle/

As digital technology got cheaper and prison-tech companies got greedier, the low end of the shitty tech adoption curve got a lot more crowded. Prison-tech companies started handing out "free" cheap Android tablets to prisoners, laying the groundwork for the next phase of the scam. Once prisoners had tablets, prisons could get rid of phones altogether and charge prisoners – and their families – even higher rates to place calls right to the prisoner's cell.

Then, prisons could end in-person visits and replace them with sub-skype, postage-stamp-sized videoconferencing, at rates even higher than the voice-call rates. Combine that with a ban on mailing letters to and from prisoners – replaced with a service that charged even higher rates to scan mail sent to prisoners, and then charged prisoners to download the scans – and prison-tech companies could claim to be at the vanguard of prison safety, ending the smuggling of dope-impregnated letters and other contraband into the prison system.

Prison-tech invented some wild shit, like the "digital stamp," a mainstay of industry giant Jpay, which requires prisoners to pay for "stamps" to send or receive a "page" of email. If you're keeping score, you've realized that this is a system where prisoners and their families have to pay for calls, "in-person" visits, handwritten letters, and email.

It goes on: prisons shuttered their libraries and replaced them with ebook stores that charged 2-4 times the prices you'd pay for books on the outside. Prisoners were sold digital music at 200-300% markups relative to, say, iTunes.

Remember, these are prisoners: locked up for years or decades, decades during which their families scraped by with a breadwinner behind bars. Prisoners can earn money, sure – as much as $0.89/hour, doing forced labor for companies that contract with prisons for their workforce:

https://www.prisonpolicy.org/blog/2017/04/10/wages/

Of course, there's the odd chance for prisoners to make really big bucks – $2-5/day. All they have to do is "volunteer" to fight raging wildfires:

https://www.hcn.org/articles/climate-desk-wildfire-california-incarcerated-firefighters-face-dangerous-work-low-pay-and-covid19/

So those $3 digital music tracks are being bought by people earning as little as $0.10/hour. Which makes it especially galling when prisons change prison-tech suppliers, whereupon all that digital music is deleted, wiping prisoners' media collection out – forever (literally, for prisoners serving life terms):

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2018/08/captive-audience-how-floridas-prisons-and-drm-made-113m-worth-prisoners-music

Let's recap: America goes on a prison rampage, locking up ever-larger numbers of people for ever-longer sentences. Once inside, prisoners had their access to friends and family rationed, along with access to books, music, education and communities outside. This is very bad for prisoners – strong ties to people outside is closely tied to successful reentry – but it's great for state budgets, and for wardens, thanks to kickbacks:

https://www.prisonpolicy.org/blog/2021/12/21/family_contact/

Back to Minnesota: when Minnesota became the fourth state in the USA where the state, not prisoners, would pay for prison calls, it seemed like they were finally breaking the vicious cycle in which every dollar ripped off of prisoners' family paid 40 cents to the state treasury:

https://www.kaaltv.com/news/no-cost-phone-calls-for-those-incarcerated-in-minnesota/

But – as Katya Schwenk writes for The Lever – what happened next is "a case study in how prison communication companies and their private equity owners have managed to preserve their symbiotic relationship with state corrections agencies despite reforms — at the major expense of incarcerated people and their families":

https://www.levernews.com/wall-streets-new-prison-scam/

Immediately after the state ended the ransoming of prisoners' phone calls, the private-equity backed prison-tech companies that had dug their mouth-parts into the state's prison jacked up the price of all their other digital services. For example, the price of a digital song in a Minnesota prison just jumped from $1.99 to $2.36 (for prisoners earning as little as $0.25/hour).

As Paul Wright from the Human Rights Defense Center told Schwenk, "The ideal world for the private equity owners of these companies is every prisoner has one of their tablets, and every one of those tablets is hooked up to the bank account of someone outside of prison that they can just drain."

The state's new prison-tech supplier promises to double the amount of kickbacks it pays the state each year, thanks to an aggressive expansion into games, money transfers, and other "services." The perverse incentive isn't hard to spot: the more these prison-tech companies charge, the more kickbacks they pay to the prisons.

The primary prison-tech company for Minnesota's prisons is Viapath (nee Global Tel Link), which pioneered price-gouging on in-prison phone calls. Viapath has spent the past two decades being bought and sold by different private equity firms: Goldman Sachs, Veritas Capital, and now the $46b/year American Securities.

Viapath competes with another private equity-backed prison-tech giant: Aventiv (Securus, Jpay), owned by Platinum Equity. Together, Viapath and Aventiv control 90% of the prison-tech market. These companies have a rap-sheet as long as your arm: bribing wardens, stealing from prisoners and their families, and recording prisoner-attorney calls. But these are the kinds of crimes the state punishes with fines and settlements – not by terminating its contracts with these predators.

These companies continue to flout the law. Minnesota's new free-calls system bans prison-tech companies from paying kickbacks to prisons and prison-officials for telcoms services, so the prison-tech companies have rebranded ebooks, music, and money-transfers as non-communications products, and the kickbacks are bigger than ever.

This is the bottom end of the shitty technology adoption curve. Long before Ubisoft started deleting games that you'd bought a "perpetual license" for, prisoners were having their media ganked by an uncaring corporation that knew it was untouchable:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VIqyvquTEVU

Revoking your media, charging by the byte for messaging, confiscating things in the name of security and then selling them back to you – these are all tactics that were developed in the prison system, refined, normalized, and then worked up the privilege gradient. Prisoners are living in your technology future. It's just not evenly distributed – yet.

As it happens, prison-tech is at the heart of my next novel, The Bezzle, which comes out on Feb 20. This is a followup to last year's bestselling Red Team Blues, which introduced the world to Marty Hench, a two-fisted, hard-bitten, high-tech forensic accountant who's spent 40 years busting Silicon Valley finance scams:

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250865878/thebezzle

In The Bezzle, we travel with Marty back to the mid 2000s (Hench is a kind of tech-scam Zelig and every book is a standalone tale of high-tech ripoffs from a different time and place). Marty's trying to help his old pal Scott Warms, a once-high-flying founder who's fallen prey to California's three-strikes law and is now facing decades in a state pen. As bad as things are, they get worse when the prison starts handing out "free" tablet and closing down the visitation room, the library, and the payphones.

This is an entry to the thing I love most about the Hench novels: the opportunity to turn all this dry, financial skullduggery into high-intensity, high-stakes technothriller plot. For me, Marty Hench is a tool for flensing the scam economy of all its layers of respectability bullshit and exposing the rot at the core.

It's not a coincidence that I've got a book coming out in a week that's about something that's in the news right now. I didn't "predict" this current turn – I observed it. The world comes at you fast and technology news flutters past before you can register it. Luckily, I have a method for capturing this stuff as it happens:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/05/09/the-memex-method/

Writing about tech issues that are long-simmering but still in the periphery is a technique I call "predicting the present." It's the technique I used when I wrote Little Brother, about out-of-control state surveillance of the internet. When Snowden revealed the extent of NSA spying in 2013, people acted as though I'd "predicted" the Snowden revelations:

https://www.wired.com/story/his-writing-radicalized-young-hackers-now-he-wants-to-redeem-them/

But Little Brother and Snowden's own heroic decision have a common origin: the brave whistleblower Mark Klein, who walked into EFF's offices in 2006 and revealed that he'd been ordered by his boss at AT&T to install a beam-splitter into the main fiber trunk so that the NSA could illegally wiretap the entire internet:

https://www.eff.org/document/public-unredacted-klein-declaration

Mark Klein inspired me to write Little Brother – but despite national press attention, the Klein revelations didn't put a stop to NSA spying. The NSA was still conducting its lawless surveillance campaign in 2013, when Snowden, disgusted with NSA leadership for lying to Congress under oath, decided to blow the whistle again:

https://apnews.com/article/business-33a88feb083ea35515de3c73e3d854ad

The assumption that let the NSA get away with mass surveillance was that it would only be weaponized against the people at the bottom of the shitty technology adoption curve: brown people, mostly in other countries. The Snowden revelations made it clear that these were just the beginning, and sure enough, more than a decade later, we have data-brokers sucking up billions in cop kickbacks to enable warrantless surveillance, while virtually following people to abortion clinics, churches, and protests. Mass surveillance is chugging its way up the shitty tech adoption curve with no sign of stopping.

Like Little Brother, The Bezzle is intended as a kind of virtual flythrough of what life is like further down on that curve – a way for readers who have too much agency to be in the crosshairs of a company like Viapath or Avently right now to wake up before that kind of technology comes for them, and to inspire them to take up the cause of the people further down the curve who are mired in it.

The Bezzle is an intense book, but it's also a very fun story – just like Little Brother. It's a book that lays bare the internal technical workings of so many scams, from multi-level marketing to real-estate investment trusts, from music royalty theft to prison-tech, in the course of an ice-cold revenge plot that keeps twisting to the very last page.

It'll drop in six days. I hope you'll check it out:

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250865878/thebezzle

[trainsinanime]

I rewatched Knives Out the day before yesterday, and one thing I love was the symbolism of the Go board. Marta wins at Go more than either Ransom or Harlan because she's not playing the game their way at all. She literally says (jokingly) that she's just laying pretty shapes, while Harlan and Ransom are all trying to outsmart everyone. And that perfectly mirrors the resolution: Marta wins because she's the one person they're not acting like she's in a murder mystery (Benoit Blanc outright says so). Nice little parallels.

The same thing happens in Glass Onion (spoilers) with the mystery box. The way to beat Miles is not by playing along with the mystery box, but by smashing it open (disrupting it, if you will).

Both movies are in an interesting sort of conversation with the classic murder mystery. They are heavily inspired by them, in terms of settings, plot, even the whole twists and turns of who did it. But at the same time they're also playing with the concept, subverting it and ultimately destroying it. Marta and Helen gleefully break the rules, and are rewarded with justice (and also an insane amount of cash).

It's no mistake that both movies feature characters who are deeply steeped in the murder mystery genre. Harlan is a mystery writer, and sets up his own murder mystery; Miles Bron does a similar thing, but as a game for his guests. Whether mystery writer patriarch or rich tech bro asshole, they fully believe in the world of Agatha Christie and in their own brilliance. And they are proven wrong by people who don't share their class or their pretensions, and really just act like people.

Benoit Blanc is a very interesting point in these movies. On the one hand, he is the classic detective who is part of the classic mystery, and when the movies deconstruct and then rebuild the mystery, he is part of the people on the wrong side. In both movies, he brings the plot together and solves the mystery, but in both movies, he isn't the one that solves the actual underlying problem. It's the actions of Marta and Helen that ultimately save the day and bring real justice.

The most central character of the classic detective story, the detective, is not actually the hero of the movie here; he's here as support for the real hero, who has nothing to do with mysteries and riddles and the like. The Knives Out movies play at being whodunnit mysteries, but they're really discussions of the whodunnit mystery as a whole. That's what makes them so damn compelling.

[xox000xox]

Trump was RIGHT yet again ...

August 17th, 2023 Trump predicted that Biden's payment of 6 billion dollars to Iran would stoke mayhem throughout the Middle East and cost countless lives.

"Crooked Joe Biden agreed to pay a 6 billion dollar ransom to the Iranian dictatorship in exchange for hostages...This decision will be extremely deadly... Just as when Obama sent the Iranian regime pallets of cash for hostages...Biden's ransom payment will be immediately used to stoke violence, bloodshed and mayhem throughout the middle east and all around the world costing countless lives...Putting the entire world in very grave peril."

Today, it appears like we are closer to World War 3 than ever before. Trump, who the media said would get us into nuclear war, was the peacemaker all along.

THE MAINSTREAM MEDIA DECEIVED THE PEOPLE.

Trump is the only peace President of the modern day and he backed this up with his actions. Meanwhile, Biden funds both sides of the war.

https://x.com/Ultrafrog17/status/1779277748571107374

[sweet-as-an-angel]

Just hear me out,

Wild west outlaw König.

That's all ,please and thank you❤️

P.s I love love love your work and you inspire me so much more than words can express,so thank you so much

Wild West Outlaw König Headcanons

Warnings: Outlaw König, König Kills People, Obsessive König, König (DEEP) in Love, Looting, Kidnapping, Implied Smut, Non-Explicit Descriptions of Smut, Dominant König, Submissive König, Mention of Ghost, Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Petnames, No Pronouns used for Reader except ‘You.

A/N: Thank you so much for your kind words, my lovely ! Your kind words have touched my heart, and I hope your creative endeavours flourish <3

Man owns a pair of handcuffs and KNOWS how to use them.

Let’s work on the assumption that he kidnapped you.

Perhaps you were already partially romantically involved but your family would never let you marry someone like König, so he stages a robbery and takes you as part of the ransom.

One he has no intention of accepting any payment for because he’s never letting you go.

König’s monstrous proportions make it easy for him to physically overpower aggressors – other bandits, outlaws, authority figures.

However, he does pose something of a hazard to himself because there’s (much) more of him to hit.

Luckily, he’s straight out of a situation the minute it gets sticky – as if he just disappears into thin air.

Just one of the reasons why he’s called the Phantom Outlaw.

Not to be confused with Ghost, who is also an outlaw but never leaves a trace (or a witness), making his reputation far more ghoulish than König’s.

Though, König does excel in the fear factor, his sheer size and notoriety – his trenchcoat and mask the very visage of Death – forcing everyone who sees him to relinquish their goods in exchange for their lives.

Speaking of, König’s ability to swing thousands in cash makes for a happy home life, given how he spends much of his fortune on you.

Clothes, jewels, literature, instruments, automobiles: you name it, you’ve got at least a treasure trove of each.

Even if you try to resist these gifts, König refuses to let up.

“Can’t have my precious little Engel going without, can I ?”

So, in return, you typically handle all the chores, though König insists you don’t have to.

“It’s not like we can hire a maid to do it for us, can we ?” you tell him. “Especially not when there’s a handsome bounty on that even more handsome head of yours.”

Said bounty is what makes it difficult for the two of you to stay in one place for too long.

And whenever you move, you always try to make the house a safe space for König.

Blankets in his favourite chair, his favourite meal on the table for him whenever you know he’s going to have a rough day, a bit of fun before bed, etc.

You can tell whenever he feels really comfortable, because he takes up three quarters of the bed, just sprawled out like a rapidly growing infection.

And you always fit neatly against his side. Or on his chest.

König calls you his “Little bunny” (or “Bun-Bun”) because of how small you look when you’re nuzzled into his chest.

He never takes you, or anything you do, for granted.

You don’t know this (so keep this a secret between you and I) but König watches you when you sleep. More than you’d think.

Truth be told, the outlaw life terrifies him.

Sure, he has the swagger and the notoriety to make off with thousands in gold, jewels, and lavish material items, but, really, his greatest, most prized treasure is you.

There is only one of you. You cannot be bought, or replicated, or found in the wild like an ore of purest diamond.

Simply put, König’s success is entirely down to the fact that he can’t be caught lacking.

If he ever was to, he knows he’d lose you. Whether you’re taken by a stray bullet in a shoot-out or your town’s rangers come to tear you from his cold, lifeless grip, König takes every precaution to circumvent these tragedies by remaining the fastest hand in the west. And the most ruthless.

Even for an outlaw, his kill count is exceedingly high.

And it’s no coincidence that the numbers began to climb after he met you. Fell in love with you.

People who he’s seen giving you lecherous stares, or those he can sense have poor intentions, he’s taken them out the back and absolved the world of their presence.

And, at the end of every excursion, every execution, every haul, the weight of the world falls from König’s shoulders as he comes back to you.

He takes his mask down around you, hangs his hat upon the coat rack. You’re the only person who he shows his face to.

But, whenever you can tell a fragment of the day resides pinned in his mind, shrapnel of his self-inflicted lifestyle, you make sure to service him before bed.

How he likes to be serviced can change on a day-to-day basis. He’s not fussy.

The only thing that changes is whether he wants to be handled by you or if he wants to slam you into the pillows.

Possessive sex <333.

“Tell me you love me,” he rasps into your ear, pinning you to the mattress with his body, making escape an impossibility to you. “Tell me I’m the only one that will ever have you like this,”

As stated previously; he has a pair of handcuffs and knows how to use them.

Or, if they’re too far out of reach and he needs you bound now, he’ll use rope. Or even just his hands.

Eye contact. The whole time.

It’s as if a different person inhabits him when he gets like this; something dark and jagged, no mere demon, possesses his form. And, by extension, yours.

König’s not stopping until you’re full, he’s empty, and he’s confident you’re not leaving the house for the next few days.

But, when König is feeling fragile, he lets you take the lead.

Just lies back while you’re on top of him, calling him your “Good boy”, “my Prince”, “my protector,” – anything that reaffirms that he holds a great deal of importance in your life.

More often than not, he ends up with tears in his eyes.

Nobody has ever been so gentle and loving towards him as you have. And coupled with how you’re taking him slowly, taking the time to make sure you’re hitting all bases and he’s thoroughly loved, sends him over the edge.

Kiss his tears away and his soul leaves his body.

It’s times like these that, more than anything, König wants a simple life. A paroxysmal desire to lead an ordinary existence where the two of you can live together happily, without the threat of being chased out of town every few months.

And, maybe, one day, even have a family together.

Until then, König will continue to dream, to give you a lifestyle of sapphires and gold and every delicacy the human mind can conjure.

And whenever he looks at you before he leaves, he sees his good luck charm, the light at the end of his tunnel. And, most importantly, the embodiment of love itself.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

AO3 Wattpad

[sourlove]

My Mistake ~ YANDERE TODOROKI SHOTO

TW: KIDNAPPING (REGRETFULLY), DELUSION, BLACKMAIL, IMPLIED MURDER, IMPLIED VIOLENCE, MENTIONS OF MAFIA AND GANG ACTIVITIES

A/N: THIS WAS INSPIRED BY A 'REVERSE TROPE WRITING PROMPT' ORIGINALLY CREATED BY @out-of-jams

"Listen, I know this might seem sudden, but I have to get this off my chest. I think I've fallen in love with you."

Slowly, you turn to face owner of the heterochromatic eyes gazing up at you. From where he was tied up. On a chair. In your basement.

"...come again?"

The man you had just kidnapped, with the intent of holding for ransom, blushed. "I think- no, I know I've fallen in love with you."

You smiled faintly, emphasis on 'faint' because there was nothing you wanted to do more than pass out and wake up from this nightmare. Todoroki Shoto was nothing but a spoiled, rich kid on paper. Sure, his father had significant power but that also meant you could charge much more for his release when you kidnapped him.

Unfortunately, hindsight was a coldhearted bitch. How were you supposed to know that he had his own fucking gang? What 23 year old man had that kind of power?? Why is it that the one time you decide to test your luck to get some extra cash, you kidnap a mafia boss???

"From the moment you tried to use that chloroform on me, I-I felt something," Todoroki rambled, interrupting your thoughts. "I was confused at first at the audacity but once I pretended to faint and you dragged me, very painfully I must say, to your van, I knew it had to be fate. I had read about fate before, but I never imagined that it would be this..." He trailed off and stared at your face in dreamlike wonder. "...beautiful."

You laughed awkwardly, silently noting the possibility of brain damage from when you moved him. "That's great man, but look-"

"It's more than great!" He leaned forward, his eyes gleaming excitedly as the ropes strained against him. "Nothing has ever made me feel this way before: flowers, money, the works, but the moment you tied me up, I knew we were-!"

"Look the whole kidnapping thing was a mistake. okay?" You interrupted abruptly. You ran your hands through your hair in frustration. Who knows how long you had until someone found you?

Todoroki's smile melted of his face. "A...mistake?"

"Yes! Exactly! It was just a wrong place, wrong time kind of situation! And I am sooooo sorry so let's just forget this ever happened and I'll even drop you off wherever you need to go." You finished with a nice 'im-so-sorry-for-kidnapping-you-please-dont-kill-me' smile.

He stared at you blankly for a full minute, making you sweat nervously. There was obviously a screw loose in his head and you really hoped you hadn't provoked him too badly.

"So you mean you never planned to kidnap me?" he asked quietly.

You shook your head. "I didn't. I'm sorry? I think..."

The silence echoed throughout the basement as precious seconds ticked by. Your hands itched to do something, but what? You weren't a murderer and there was no way you wouldn't face some kind of consequence so the only way out was to convince him to let the matter slide.

"Liar."

Todoroki chuckled at your dumbfounded expression. "Do you really I would believe that you kidnapped me, Shoto Todoroki, for a mere ransom?" He smiled adoringly up at you and you felt a chill run down your spine. "You wouldn't do something like this," he nodded down at his binds "For someone you don't love."

You backed away slowly. "Hey, you've got the wrong idea, I-"

"No, no I don't have wrong ideas," Todoroki drawled. "In fact I think I might be very right about this one soon."

"W-what...?" Suddenly, a loud pounding came from your front door above the basement. Loud, angry voices spilled into your home and stomped around, obviously looking for something. Or someone.

Todoroki looked almost apologetic as he smiled. "It looks like you'll have to make your choice now, my love. You just ran out of time."

You swore and hastily began cutting at his rope bindings as he watched in amusement. Fuck it. It was better to hang off the arm of this psycho than get caught by his men as his kidnapper. And he knew it too. You wanted to punch his stupidly pretty smug face.

"I'm so glad you decided to see thing my way, darling," Todoroki sighed, wrapping his arms around you. "And since you wanted me so badly, I'll give you exactly what you desire." He pressed your foreheads together just as the basement door splintered open.

"From now on, I'm never letting you out of my sight~"

READ PART 2 HERE

[sykosugu]

♤♢ on the run ♧♡ | prologue

♤ summary: she's an infamous bank robber, and he's the only detective that's been able to get close to her. he was never apart of her plans. but he's got his clutches in her and she can't let go. a geto suguru au

♢ warnings: this story will contain descriptions of violence, destructive behavior, toxic behavior, illegal activities, sexual content, death. use of weapons. forbidden romance

♧ currently: completed

♡ taglist: closed

♤ wc: 1.4 k (they will get longer I promise)

♢ carlile speaks: hi everyone! welcome! I was working on chapter one, and the mood boards (yes boards, there are two more bc I'll do anything to avoid writing even though I love doing it) and this idea popped in to kind of give you a beginning thought as to how they officially met. But chapter one is coming! enjoy this little insight, and I know it definitely is little right now!

you are here | next part

Seventy seconds. That’s all you had until the silent alarm blared at the local police station. But lucky for you, you only need thirty of those seconds to get what you needed. A simple in and out procedure was always how you operated. 

In through the front door, dressed to impress. A Bag under your arm and an umbrella in your hand. The umbrella is the key. Literally.

Bank managers always approach you from first entry, wanting to impress someone who looks so lavish; we must keep our high end customers happy. You’re led to the safety deposit room, with the intent of placing your precious jewels into a box. 

Until the handle of the umbrella is twisted and a knife is drawn. 

The knife held to the manager's throat while he opened every single box he could in the 30 second time span. But you know exactly which boxes to open. You've been surveying this area for weeks now. Camera hacking. One of your specialties. Every customer who entered this room in the last month, you’d seen and known what to take. Totally under wraps; never to be seen until the job needed done. 

When the managers think they can overpower a girl like yourself, the gun stashed in your waistband makes its appearance, deftly putting the men in their places. 

This was always how you operated. Never the cash; always the safety deposit boxes. Sometimes the items placed inside were of monetary value, but some were of unmatched value; precious family heirlooms that could get ransomed for way more than any cash vault would hold. That’s always what you were after. Sometimes, jewels were involved and that was a plus. A girl can never have too many diamonds. They are your best friends after all. But the ransomed heirlooms, some of kings and queens of the corporate world: that was your MO. You were the Red Queen.

Were.

Suguru was not something you’d anticipated. Suguru was your biggest flaw. He was now your weakness. But he was also the enemy.

He’d been tracking you for months; been minutes from you so many times. You were his biggest project that he’d never been able to get his hands on. You were a myth at this point. Never actually seen, except by the bank managers who were never able to give a good enough description.

“She had big sunglasses, bright red lipstick and a killer smile.”

He knew that much. That was it.

Until now. 

He had you. 

You walked out five seconds too late. 

He had you.

A hand harshly grips the back of your upper arm, spinning you around. Your fist instinctively reaches up, elbow colliding with the person in question; a cracking sound fills the air as your arm connects with their face. You’d successfully knocked their head back. Killing was never your objective when it came to defending yourself, a body leads to problems. You don’t have time for problems. Suguru’s used to combat though, with gritted teeth he takes the blow. Cracking his neck, his other hand reaches to grasp your other arm, flinging you down onto his car's hood as pedestrians continue on their day. Most stop for the show, but others see the badge hanging from his neck and don’t question anything. Your back comes in contact with the car, your head bouncing off the surface; ears ringing from the loud bang. Your arms are braced in front of you as you feel the handcuffs being placed around your hands.

He had you. 

Nobody could ever get you. You were like a ghost in the nighttime; but he found you out. Who was this guy? Why does it kind of turn you on? But it also definitely terrifies you.

“We finally meet,” he grins down at you. “I’m Detective Geto, and you’ve been my biggest foe for almost a year,” You just stare back at him. “But you can call me Suguru.”

You were in the back of his car in minutes. Hands cuffed in front of you while he stared at you in the rearview mirror. Unbeknownst to you until now, he’d lied about catching you. He said you’d gotten away again. 

He watched you walk into the bank this time. He was the one who was ahead. He finally had the upper hand. 

And he liked it.

“No, sir. She got away again.” you heard him say flatly in the front seat. “Yes, sir, I get that but if–” he stops, pressing his thumb and pointer finger into his eyes. “Sir, if i can just speak for a minute,” you can hear yelling through the speaker, but no words can be made out.

Why isn't he telling him you’re right here? What is going on?

“Sir, I had her. She got away. I’ll get her again.,” he pauses again, “Yes sir, I understand. Thank you, Chief. I got it. I’ll handle it. Thank you.”

He’ll handle what? What is happening?

Suguru’s eyes catch yours in the mirror. “You’ve been eluding me for the longest time, Y/N. Or should I say The Red Queen.”

“Call me Ruby. I don’t use that name anymore,” you mutter. Unsure why you’re even responding. What does he want with you? He lied about you to his boss. 

“Ruby,” he swirls the name around his tongue, “Pretty,” and he’s starting the car.

“Where are you taking me?” you question, fingers reaching down to pull one of the bobby pins from your boot. You’re always prepared.

“Even if you free yourself, the doors are locked,” he smirks at you in the mirror. You catch his gaze, offering him a glare. “I’m not a threat to you. Not right now.”

What the hell does that mean?

“You’re literally a cop, and you’re not telling me where you’re taking me.”

“I just want to talk to you before I decide what to do next,” his eyes fixed on the road again. You notice the white in his knuckles from gripping the steering wheel so hard. He’s nervous. You could use that to your advantage. Wherever he was taking you, you were going to use your biggest asset: yourself; to get what you needed. 

Your freedom. Your biggest job was coming up soon, and you needed to be prepared.

This cop obviously had an attraction towards you. If only he wasn’t a cop, you could entertain the thought of a relationship if he hadn’t been. But honestly, it would probably hold you back.

“Where are we going? Why did you lie? What’s going on?”

“So many questions, Ruby. Live a little,” he chuckles at you. Was this guy insane? A cop isnt taking the opportunity to turn you in? He’d be decorated for the rest of his life.

“Live a little? Do you hear yourself? You said I’d been eluding you for nearly a year, why arent you taking me in? Don’t you want the accolades? Detective Geto takes down the Red Queen,”

“Thought you didn’t go by that name anymore?” He questions, a smirk on his lips.

“I don’t,” you grumble. “But word obviously hasn’t spread yet,” your eyes roll.

“Besides, I'd rather get to know you first,” he says nonchalantly.

“Are you insane?”

“Maybe. But you are too,” he eyes you, making your face redden like your lipstick.

“You don't know anything about me,” you bite out at him. Who does this guy think he is?

“I do,” he states matter of factly. He states your full name. Your fake secured social security number. The list of aliases you use to book hotels, rental cars whatever you needed. He knew what he needed to know. But after seeing you in person, he needed to know more.

He put two and two together based off your appearance. A long black Chanel coat. Big black sunglasses. Dark red lips. The umbrella.

He just knew it was you. He watched you walk into the bank. 

“Count to thirty,” he thinks to himself. He’d studied your tactics. He knew them like the back of his hand. 

And waited. You were late. One. Two. Three. This might actually happen for him. Four. He’s sweating. Five. You’re here. You’re right here. If he just reaches out—

And now here he was, you in the back of his car driving you to his safe house.

Where he’d get to know what he wanted—needed—to know.

He would figure out a way to know everything.

♧ tags: @celestie0 @lostfracturess @carlacujo @alwaysfreakingout @shervinss @jaelahh @gojolvrr34 @shesplendl

(pls make sure your settings are right to get tagged!)

[imyourbratzdoll]

𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒘𝒃𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒚 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒄𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒓𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒇𝒖𝒏𝒅 𝒃𝒂𝒃𝒚

🍓the strawberry shack masterlist🍓

summary - ransom realises there is one sexual experience he hasn't done yet and decides he'll get it over with before anyone finds out about it.

warning - smut, gloryhole, daddy kink, swearing, creampie.

18+ only please, the gif and headers I use aren't mine.

Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.

Ransom slams the door as he exits his car, his face set in a permanent scowl, “Fucking family.” He huffs, wondering when they will finally get hit by some sort of disaster, wiping them off the face of the planet. Ransom stuffs his hands into the pockets of his expensive coat, walking toward the brightly lit building. Ransom was known to be adventurous, especially when it came to sex, he had done nearly everything, so to learn he’s never tried a gloryhole before was absurd, and he couldn’t have anyone finding out about it. 

He grunts as he opens the door, quickly pulling out a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe whatever germs that could’ve been on that handle. Ransom walks over to the counter, leaning against it and giving the woman behind it a smirk. “Hello, sweets. I want your best girl.” He pulls a wad of cash from his wallet and slams it down, winking as she points him to the room. Ransom saunters down the hall and enters the room. 

He looked around, being assured that these were the best in the business. Ransom walked around the room, checking out each woman, shaking his head when he didn’t see one he liked. He didn’t want his first experience to be horrible. He wanted the best. He paid for the best, so he should receive it. When his eyes landed on you, he knew you were perfect by how his cock twitched, swelling rapidly beneath his pants. 

Ransom walks closer to your hole, grunting at the sight of your glistening cunt, enjoying how you are already lying on your back, his favourite position. He loves to watch the bulge appear in women’s tummies as he fucks into them. His thick member splitting and stretching them open, and he groans as he imagines what you would look like. “You’re a pretty sight, sweetheart. Are you ready to be split open by Daddy? You’ll definitely be begging for more, cockdrunk, from being fucked by me.” 

You shake your head, smiling slightly at his words. You’ve dealt with many men, ranging from soft to sweet to cocky to downright rude. He was definitely in the cocky department, but you decided to give him a chance. You weren’t going to lie. His words made you drip. “Show me what you got, Sugar. I don’t think I quite believe you… I’ve had a lot of men promise me a good time.” You smirk, wanting to mess with him a bit to see if he’ll either get angry and storm off or follow through with his promise. 

“Oh, sweetheart… You should know that you don’t mess with Daddy, or he won’t let you cum.” Ransom growls, pressing his clothed bulge against your dripping cunt, not caring in the slightest if your juices stain his expensive slacks. His finger traces up your leg, tapping against your thigh. “You want to cum, don’t you?” You throb, face heating up as he speaks. His hand slaps your sopping cunt, causing you to squeak. “Speak slut.” 

“Yes, yes! I want to cum, please!” You couldn’t believe you were already begging, and he hadn’t even touched you yet. Ransom smirked, moving his hands to the front of his pants, unzipping them and pulling out his thick, throbbing member. He strokes it, twisting his wrist and swiping his thumb across his leaking tip. Ransom eyes your cunt, watching it slicken even more as you listen to him touch himself. 

He rubs his mushroom tip through your folds, collecting your arousal before pushing in. Ransom groans, wondering how the fuck you could be so tight when you work at a place like this. He grips your hips, bottoming out inside you. “Jesus, sweetheart.” Your eyes roll to the back of your head as he hits your cervix, stretching you wider than anyone else before. “After I’m done with you, you won’t want anyone else.” Ransom pulls you closer, setting a pace, thrusting hard and fast. He grunts when he sees the bulge forming, his thick tip pounding into you, hitting spots that have never been hit before. 

“I’m yours! I’m yours! Oh, god!” Your head flies back, arms flying upwards and clutching the pillow underneath you. Your body moves up and down the bed, legs falling open for the man to continue to use you. You felt so close already, the band inside of you begging to snap. Your legs wrap around him, bringing him closer, needing to feel every part of him. “Please let me cum!” 

Ransom moans, eyes slipping closed as his head tilts back, feeling your walls throb and pulsate around him. “Fuck, sweetheart. Are you sure you’ve been good enough?” He squeezes your hips, pounding harder into you, repeatedly hitting your sweet spot. His hand moves between you, locating your puffy clit, rubbing and pinching it. 

“Yes! I’ve been so good, please!” Your screams bounce off the walls, feeling yourself throb like crazy. Your cunt swallowing his cock deeper, back arching. “Please!”

“Cum, slut.” Ransom growls, thrusting faster, rubbing your clit. “Cum for Daddy.” 

“Daddy!” Your eyes roll to the back of your head, and your vision becomes white as the most intense orgasm washes over you, your juices squirting out and covering the mystery man’s expensive clothes. Once your orgasm has passed, you sag into the bed, letting out soft moans as he continues to destroy you.

“Fuck, you dirty slut! You’ve ruined my clothes.” Ransom growls, fucking into you roughly, feeling his balls tighten and his tip swell as his cock throbs. “I’m gonna paint your pretty walls with my cum.” You moan as thick spurts of cum shoot out of him, coating your walls and filling you to the brim. Ransom doesn’t dare rest his head on the wall before him, not wanting to catch a disease. He pulls his softened cock from your used hole, tucking it back into his slacks. “Your pretty little pussy looks so good stuffed with my cum.” 

Those are the last words you hear out of the stranger’s mouth as he turns and leaves. Ransom places his sunnies over his eyes, ignoring the woman ogling him at the counter and heading back outside to where his car is parked. He knows he’ll be back. You were worth his money, and maybe one day he will get you out of The Strawberry Shack and take you home, making you his own personal slut. 

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[kabie-whump]

♡ Febuwhump Day 17: Hostage Situation ♡

@febuwhump

Content: Kidnapping, blood, bondage, neglectful team, ransom, whumper turned caretaker

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

"You might as well just let me go. They're not coming."

Whumper continues shuffling cards, not looking at Whumpee. "You keep saying that. How can you be so sure?"

"Your asking price is too high."

"Please. Don't try to tell me that your little team is broke. I know that's not true."

"They're not broke. But they won't pay all that just for me. They won't even pay half of that. You're wasting your time. And your chains." Whumpee looks down at their own body, at the way they're bound by miles of chains to the point where they can't move an inch. "Seriously, is all this really necessary?"

"I don't know what you're capable of, and I would rather not find out."

"Hm. Fair enough. Would you believe me if I promised that I'm harmless?"

"No."

"Worth a shot."

They go quiet for a while, the only sounds being Whumper's cards shuffling against the table and the steady drip of blood hitting the floor from Whumpee's injuries. An hour passes before Whumper speaks again.

"You really think they won't pay up?"

"Not for me. Maybe if you'd taken Leader..."

Whumper scoffs. "If I was powerful enough to capture Leader I wouldn't need to be taking hostages for cash in the first place."

"Yeah."

Whumpee's voice is getting softer and more slurred by the second. Whumper had noticed the change happening, but that last word was just pitiful. Whumper stands, going over to check on their hostage. They'd gone pale and the puddle of blood under their chair had grown significantly.

"You're not doing too hot, are you?" Whumper asks, squatting in front of Whumpee.

Whumpee shakes their head.

"At this rate you'll bleed out before anyone comes to save you."

"They're not coming," Whumpee says again, their voice still weak.

Whumper realizes with a start that Whumpee is tearing up. Not in the way that they did when Whumper had roughed them up for the camera. That had just been a pain response. This is genuine emotional distress.

"You're upset."

"Of course 'm upset, asshole," Whumpee slurs, the tears falling. "The fuck do you think I am?"

"Good to see you've still got your fire. But there's no reason to be upset. You're going to be fine."

"Fuck off."

"I mean it. Let's go over your options, hm? One: Your team comes for you and pays your ransom and you get to go home. Two: Your team comes for you, kills me, and you get to go home. Three: Your team doesn't come for you, and you get to stay here with me. You're going to survive no matter what."

"You told them you'd kill me if they don't come before tommorow."

"Yes, well, I was hoping to inspire a sense of urgency. Doesn't seem to have worked. I could kill you, I guess, but I'm starting to get the impression that you may be more useful then that. If your friends abandon you here, that may put you in a position where you're willing to give me some information about them. Saves me having to torture someone for it. Besides, one of my employees just kicked it so I'm in the market for new blood."

"You want me to... work for you?"

"Again, I could kill you instead if you're not going to be useful to me. I'm still deciding."

"I'd be a waste of resources. I'm not good for anything." Whumpee starts to shiver, the chains making soft clinking sounds.

"You believe that? Is that why you think they're not coming for you?"

Whumpee nods.

Something inside Whumper cracks just a little as they stare at Whumpee - pale and trembling with silent tears leaving tracks in the blood and dirt on their face.

"Alright. Let's get you stitched up. You're not bleeding out on my watch. I really don't have the energy to dispose of a body tonight."

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Next >

[brandycranby]

ce characters + their skill at wrapping presents (based on technique, style, and enthusiasm) 🎁✨

crocheting a last minute gift rn hehe

steve: 9.5/10. the military precision comes in clutch when it's time to measure out wrapping paper. if he's not doing the wrapping himself, he's at your elbow with tape strips and scissors when you need them. gift bags? hell no, back in his day, presents were wrapped (ok old man 🙄💕) heh expect steve to come home with half a dozen new tubes of gift wrap because he just can't resist the cuteness (target snoopy paper, beloved 🥺💕)

andy: 7/10. if he did it himself that is 😌 this is a man of experience and few close relatives. the holidays are a quiet uneventful time for him (besides the odd party) and he spends it with you, showering you in gifts and treats for the new year. most of those treats come with complimentary gift wrapping that he'll most definitely take advantage of hehe if not, he's a sparkly gift bag kinda guy

ari: 8/10. he doesn't have much skill at getting those sharp corners on a wrapped box but can he curl a ribbon or what? great color sense, he doesn't look like it but he can tell a french silver from classic silver 😌💕 whatta man whatta man. eight presents though, that's a lot of gift ideas to come up with. defaults to cash and gift cards for some nights, slaps a ribbon on top and adds mesh bag of chocolate coins and calls it a night

johnny: 6/10. look, he's a guy. still, he's a guy with a big sister. sue comes over and they make a night in of it. wrapping paper is everywhere, someone gets hit with a tube, nothing's lit on fire but reed's gift is singed and labeled "to: asshole". it's probably just fruit of the loom boxers. your gift though? he keeps adding stocking stuffers until sue makes him use a wicker basket to hold everything bc "it's chic, johnny, and a paper bag can't hold all of that."

ransom: 5/10 +3 effort points. ONCE HE TRIES?? HE TRIES!!! i mean not for his parents' gifts, he probably amazon shipped those to their house. but he'll pull out the ribbons, the glitter, the tinsel, the special wrapping paper just for you 🥹💕 ransom doesn't really Get It, not until you have a day of present prep with him. cups of hot drinks and a movie on in the back, that sort of warm nostalgia that's so familiar yet distant from what he's known 🥺surprisingly good eye for it

jake: 4/10. oh lord he tries. he tries so damn hard. the living room is a wreck, there's tape everywhere and mismatched wrapping paper. he measures a length of paper too small and worries about cutting another one because you like that paper!! you'd probably cry if he wasted it!! so he takes a discard piece and kinda... band-aids it together... oh baby 😔 also how do you wrap plushies??? (put it in a box, jake, please put it in a box)

curtis: 7/10. solid score because he goes for maximum efficiency and doesn't take a break until every single present is completely hidden in gift wrap, tissue paper, ribbons, bows, and a gift tag. would be a 10 if he was a little more fancy and a little less practical about his present style. but he has the assembly line efficiency and it helps you get everything done in one day so kudos 😊 points off for getting suspicious when you take a long pee break tho

---

since i've started writing this hc list, i've redone my amigurumi THREE TIMES. why do i do this to myself. i also wrapped last minute gifts like a jake today heh

[navybrat817]

A Price to Pay

Pairing: Mob!Steve Rogers x Female Reader, Ransom Drysdale x Female Reader Summary: Steve demands retribution when Ransom crosses a line. Ransom offers you as payment. Word Count: Almost 2.9k Warnings: Dubcon/Noncon elements (do not read if that upsets you), blackmail, coercion, choking, swearing, talks of violence, forced cheating, Ransom is an asshole, mob!Steve Rogers (he’s a warning, okay?). A/N: Another old WIP completed! I began this in August of 2021. This will be connected to a future Bucky fic and I may expand on Steve's story if there is interest. ❤️ Beta read by the beautiful @little-diable and @sweeterthanthis, but any and all mistakes are my own. Banners by @maysdigitalarts and moodboard by yours truly. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Please reblog or comment as it means the world!

Ransom Drysdale was the worst mistake you ever made. The man exuded arrogance, yet you were somehow attracted to his confidence. Maybe it was because yours wasn't strong enough at the time. His charm won you over, even as you tried to resist. He didn't strike you as the type who wanted a long-term relationship, but he convinced you to give him a chance. He swore you wouldn't regret it. 

"Best decision you'll ever make."

Fool me once, shame on you. 

Ransom didn't deserve you. You figured that out when you caught him in the first lie. You weren't supposed to hear his phone call as he watched the news. He wasn't usually that careless, as you would later find out.

At first you thought he cheated on you. It would have explained his hushed calls and random outings after you moved in. You almost wished he had been seeing someone else. That would have made it easier to walk away and never look back. 

"Yeah, I'm watching. Like I give a shit if his company falls or his wife leaves. Should've kept his dick in his pants. And you should've seen the stupid look on his face when I told him there were photos. I told him what would happen if he didn't wire the money. Fucker's paying for it now, isn't he?"

"... Ransom?"

"... Fuck. I'll call you back."

He brushed you off when you questioned him. He even tried to convince you that you were hearing things. He dropped the charade when he realized you weren't going to let it go. 

"Just can't let me have my fun, can you?"

You thought Ransom came from money, which he had growing up. Somewhere along the way his grandfather cut him off. He had to find more creative ways to keep his cash flow going - like blackmail. Trading secrets and exposing scandals when necessary were second nature to him. And he wasn't afraid to get his hands dirty. 

But he swore he'd stop when he saw your tears.

"I'm done, pumpkin. It was the last one. Cross my heart."

Fool me twice, shame on me. 

It was easier when you were blissfully unaware of the kind of man he truly was. The affectionate touches and gasps he drew from you couldn't wash away what he had done. He ruined lives just to keep his pockets full. And you knew in your heart he wouldn't let you go. Not because he loved you, but because you were a liability.

He made that clear when you caught him again and said you needed space.

"You're not leaving me."

You could barely walk by the time he was done fucking you that night. A sore reminder that crossing him wasn't a smart move. But he never raised a hand to you. He didn't leave visible scars. You carried them where no one could see. So why would your friends and family who were still around ever side with you? 

"I own you. Don't you ever fucking forget it."

You weren't completely helpless. You played your part and learned a few secrets of your own, like how Ransom's grandfather really died. You pieced together that Ransom was the one who killed him, but he still didn't get enough money in the will to satisfy him. 

He'll never be satisfied. 

It took time and careful planning to make sure you had enough money set aside to leave. He dipped into your main account, of course, but you had a rainy day fund from before you met him that he would never touch. You could have a fresh start and maybe expose him in the process. But you still felt like a coward. 

Was that why he chose to be with me? Because I'm weaker than him? 

"Pumpkin, where are you?" you heard as the front door opened. 

Glancing at the clock, you tried not to panic. He isn't supposed to be home yet. You quickly stashed your bag under the bed and swallowed the lump in your throat. "Coming!" you called back, smoothing out your dress and checking your reflection before you made your way downstairs to the study.

I can still leave tonight. I can even leave tomorrow. I'll be fine.

You took a deep breath before you entered the room, surprised to find two other men with Ransom. 

"There she is. Finally," Ransom said, a glass of scotch already in hand.

Your heart raced in your chest as you glanced at the man who sat across from Ransom. His broad body radiated power and strength, his presence dominating the entire room. And he wasn't even standing. You expected his gaze to be harsh when he looked at you, but his blue eyes softened the longer he stared. You had to look away after a minute. 

Your gaze landed on the figure beside him. The brunette looked just as intimidating as the blonde, his gaze cold. The corner of his lip tugged into a smile as he lifted his hand in a wave. It was a metal hand. 

"Relax. We won't bite. Well… I won't."

Ransom rolled his eyes, "Pumpkin, take a seat. We need to talk."

Nothing good ever happened when someone needed to talk. "About what?" you asked as you sat in the empty chair on the other side of Ransom.

"This is Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes," he introduced, taking a sip of his scotch. "They're here on business."

You bit the inside of your cheek. You didn't want to judge these men, but you knew it had to be something shady. Nothing Random did was ever pure.

Steve shifted in his chair to face you. "Care to tell me your name, sweetheart? You don't strike me as the type who likes to be called 'pumpkin'."

You avoided Ransom's subtle glare as you cleared your throat and said it. 

"It’s nice to meet you, though I wish the circumstances were better," he smiled gently. "For the record, we already know who you are. I know where your friends and family live. I know about that bakery you like to go to once a week. You treat yourself to a specialty donut. They're good."

You wished you had a glass of water to quench your dry throat. "You've been watching me?"

"It's part of my job to know people. Allies. Enemies. We also know you've been living here for some time. Before I get into why exactly we're here, I do have to ask even though I know the answer. Are you aware of what Ransom does?"

Ashamed, you merely nodded as your fingers twisted in your lap.

Steve's gaze was sympathetic as he continued. “Are you also aware that Ransom recently got into some trouble?"

You spared Ransom a quick glance. "What kind of trouble?"

"Doesn't matter," he said dismissively. 

"It does matter," Steve said firmly, leaning forward in his chair. "It matters when your mouth gets one of my men killed."

Your stomach dropped as you took in Steve and Bucky's angry expressions. "You got someone killed?"

"Idiot got himself killed. Not my fault or my problem."

"He was a kid," Steve argued.

It earned him a shrug in response. "You brought the kids in, Rogers. Both of you knew what he was getting into. Don't blame me for his blood being on your hands."

The callousness shocked you, despite what you knew about Ransom. "How can you say that? How can you think so little of people?"

"Oh, it gets better," Bucky said sarcastically before Ransom could answer.

"What do you mean?" you asked nervously. 

"I told you. He got one of my men killed. I took it personally," Steve explained. "I debated between killing him myself or having him sent to jail, but I'm a reasonable guy. I gave him a chance to tell his side of the story. Once he figured out I wasn't going to budge on some sort of retaliation, he offered me something."

You didn't like where this was going. "What exactly did he offer?"

"You."

You were waiting for the punchline. For someone to laugh. There was nothing funny about it as all three men stared at you. Bucky's expression remained the same, but there was sympathy in his eyes. Ransom looked proud of himself. It made you wish you could slap the smirk off his face. But Steve?

Steve's eyes were thoughtful, calculating. He was gauging your response. You almost opened your mouth to tell him you weren't worth the life of the man he lost, but what came out was, "Are you fucking kidding me?"

Steve didn't look surprised by your outburst. Maybe he expected it. "Listen, please. I know-"

"No. You listen. I want nothing to do with whatever he did. I am so sorry that one of your men was killed, but please understand that I am not going to be a pawn in whatever this is."

Ransom had the gall to look embarrassed as you stood up. "You don't have a choice. Just let him fuck you and be done with it."

"Yes, I do have a choice. And I'm choosing to leave."

"You're not walking out that door," Ransom said, getting to his feet, too. "Just like you didn't the last time you tried to leave."

Humiliation flooded you as Steve and Bucky exchanged a look. Were they judging you? Did they pity you? "I'm going upstairs and getting my bag. I'm not cleaning up your mess. I'm done playing your games, Ransom. I'm done with you."

Ransom's jaw clenched as he marched over and grabbed you by your throat. "You think I give a shit what you want right now? I never did. You were just a fucking toy to keep my dick wet. And I'd let him and his entire fucking crew run a train on you if it keeps me out of jail."

Your eyes teared up as you looked into his eyes. There was no love there. Not at that moment. Did he ever love you?

"Do. You. Understand?"

The hand around your throat squeezed tighter, just enough to show that he could end you. You whimpered, but not because of the pain. It was a different kind of hurt you felt.  The kind of hurt that couldn't be healed by false promises. That was what Ransom was: a false, empty promise.

I should have run the moment you walked into my life.  

"Let her go."

Steve's words were softly spoken in the quiet room, but everyone felt the weight of them.

"Don't tell me what to do with my girl, Rogers."

"Right now, she's MY girl. Get your fucking hands off of her."

Bucky brandished his gun as he stood up, taking aim at Ransom. "He won't ask again. And I'd hate to ruin her pretty dress with your blood."

You almost missed the snarl he let out as he released you, coughing as you rubbed your neck. Your heart leapt as you looked over and caught Steve's gaze. The intensity in his eyes only grew as he began to walk across the room. You felt your breath leave your body again as he got closer. You didn't bother to step back because you were already caught. 

Neither of you spoke a word when he stopped and brought his hands to your face. He cupped your cheeks with a certain kind of tenderness that surprised you as his eyes scanned your neck. A tear finally fell when his brows furrowed with concern. Why would he care when your own boyfriend didn't?

"The fuck are you doing?" Ransom snapped when Steve began to pepper gentle kisses along the column of your throat.

Your eyes slipped shut, but it wasn't completely out of fear. The feel of his lips should have made you shudder in disgust, but you found yourself craving more. Was it pathetic? You didn't care.

"I told you, she's my girl now," Steve murmured against your skin. "And if I ever see you touch her like that again, I'll tear you apart. Limb from limb."

Ransom's laugh sounded bitter and ugly as you opened your eyes. "You want my sloppy seconds so badly, be my guest. Little slut's probably creaming herself from the attention."

"This whole thing is your fault, Ransom," you reminded him, another bitter tear falling from your eye. The anger whirling inside you couldn't be contained any longer. "So if you're going to offer me up like a slut, the least I can do is enjoy it."

Steve kissed up to the corner of your mouth, smiling. "Enjoy it? Oh, sweetheart," he breathed, "By the time I'm done with you, you won't even remember he existed. Because every thought of him will be fucked out of you. I can promise you that."

You shivered and dared to glance at Ransom out of the corner of your eye. 

“You really are a fucking slut,” he sneered before Bucky pressed the gun to his temple.

“No one twisted your arm to offer her.”

"I could just let you kill him,” you pointed out to Steve, the last shred of sympathy for Ransom fading as another tear slid down your cheek.

"I'd take you anyway," Steve whispered, brushing his lips against your cheek to take the tear away. "I wanted you the moment I saw you and I'm a very determined man."

You were light on your feet as you brought a hand up to wrap around his wrist. Something to keep you from falling. "I won't be a pawn. If you're going to keep me, actually keep me, prove to me why I shouldn't run."

"I have ways to keep you from running," his voice deepened, a flash of Ransom dragging you to bed filling your mind. "But I'd rather not chase you away to begin with."

“She loves to put up a fight. Helps her sleep at night instead of admitting she’s as fucked up as the rest of us.” 

You weren't sure if it was the disdain in Ransom's voice or the rage in Steve's eyes, but a surge of unexpected power emerged from the bitterness. "What was it you said, Ran? You'd let his men run a train on me if it keeps you out of jail?"

"What are you suggesting, sweetheart?" Steve asked, his gaze curious as he pulled back to regard you. 

"While I don't want that, I want Ransom to watch you fuck me," you spoke, standing a bit straighter as you looked him in the eye. You refused to look weak. "I want him to see you split me open with your cock and make me cry from how good it feels. When you're done, then I'll forget he ever existed."

Bucky chuckled, but you didn't look his way. You didn't dare look away from Steve as his gaze drifted to your lips. "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. My wife's gonna love you."

"Done," Steve whispered before his mouth descended on yours.

You didn't fight as his tongue slid past your parted lips. You welcomed his dominance, his control. Oh, he was going to make you become addicted. The dampening in your panties was a sure sign of that. 

"You're fucking stupid if you think I'll watch him fuck her!"

Ransom's voice wasn't enough to break the spell that Steve's kiss had over you. Maybe you were trading one evil for another, but this was the door you willingly walked through. You threw away the key the moment you took Ransom's hand.

Now you'd have a better hand to guide you.

"You'll watch," Bucky promised. "But, punk, my doll might kill me if I have to watch, too. You understand."

The almost lighthearted tone of Steve's friend was enough to stop the kiss, giving you a moment to take a much needed deep breath. "Get Ari over here. He'll make sure he keeps his eyes open."

"You fucking-"

You jumped when Bucky smacked Ransom in the face with his gun, effectively cutting off his next words. The hit made his nose bleed and you took sick pleasure in watching it stain his sweater, his hands flying up to try and stop it. If you were the sacrifice, he had to pay in blood for your offering. 

"Any other conditions or questions?" Steve asked, turning your face back toward him as your now ex's swears and groans were muffled.

"Will you be good to me?” 

“You have my word and I’ll do what I can to make sure you trust me.”

Ransom may have been your worst mistake, but the silver lining was that you'd no longer be in his prison. Your body was a small price to pay to join Steve in a larger, better cage. You could still fly. Maybe you’d give him your heart in time. 

Maybe you could also convince Steve to take Ransom down anyway. For his grandfather, for the kid, for you. For every person he hurt.

You won't die, Ransom, but you'll pay. Everyone has to pay for their sins eventually.

“Then we should get started," you stated, sealing your fate.

"Call Ari. Now," Steve ordered Bucky, looking at Ransom with an unsympathetic smile. “You heard her. Let’s get started.”

*****

Hope to share more soon. Love and thanks! ❤️

[dragons-and-handcuffs]

Kidnapper!Aegon Targaryen x heiress!reader

Imagine Aegon kidnapping heiress!reader the very night she got engaged. You are already upset about the arranged marriage and the engagement and now some guy has kidnapped you for ransom.

Aegon stupidly falls in love with you but doesn't realize it. He sends ransom notes and everything and in return gets threats from your family and fiance. How stupid a man has to be to kidnap one of the most powerful businessman's daughter? Now the entire police department is after him.

You on the other hand don't want to go back, because if you do then you will have to get married.

"Here is your dinner. I got it from your favorite restaurant," Aegon places the sophisticated takeout box in front of you. The smell of the food already watered your mouth. "I am surprised you know about my favorite restaurant. And I am more surprised that you have money to buy their food," You commented as you quickly started eating as you were starving. "I got the money from your purse," Aegon flashed you a proud smile. "And second, I know about your favorite restaurant because I did my research well before kidnapping you," He said proudly. "So you stalked me?"

"No...maybe...yes," Aegon quickly replied before he started to eat some of your food. "Hey! Get your own dinner. This is mine," You slapped his hand away. "This is our dinner. You only had cash for one meal and I couldn't use your card, they will track it," Aegon explained as he stole another bite. "This is really good but not worth so much money."

Imagine Aegon giving you his clothes to wear once you started to complain that your fancy engagement dress was starting to feel uncomfortable.

Imagine him chasing after you once you manage to escape. He brought you back, carried you back to the cabin and complained how much of a trouble you are.

"I hate you," You threw your pillow at him when he caught you trying to escape again. "Really? Because I am falling in love with you," He said sarcastically but a part of him knows that it is actually the truth.

Imagine it's raining and the water started to leak in the cabin. You have never faced a situation like this in your life. And now Aegon is forcing you to help putting buckets and concealing the leakage.

"Couldn't you have chosen a better place to keep me in?" You complained. "I am sorry, your royal highness. Once I get the ransom from your family I will buy a better cabin, but for now this is where we will stay."

Imagine cops and your fiance finding the cabin and searching the place, but Aegon has quickly moved you down to the secret basement. He has you pressed against the wall, one hand covering your mouth and another hand holding his gun. Both your eyes locked into each other, as if a silent conversation is going on.

Aegon realized that the cabin was no longer safe and decided to move you to some place else. Imagine reaching a small town where you two have to pretend to be an young engaged couple and share a room for the night. Had to kiss to make the act more convincing. The kiss was anything but fake. It was that night you realized that you have feelings for your stupid kidnapper.

Imagine you saw the news that everyone is after Aegon and trying to save you. You know Aegon will never get the ransom and will never completely escape the cops. You have to escape and get back to your family and fiance to save Aegon, your kidnapper.

Poor stupid Aegon also realized his actual feelings for you and slept with a smile on his face, planning to confess the next day, not knowing that you would be long gone by then

[nicoline1998enilocin]

Such a tease

PAIRING | Ransom Drysdale x Best Friend!Female!Reader

WORD COUNT | 3.1K

SUMMARY | You're spending the afternoon at a lingerie boutique to find the perfect set for your date later that night. You decide to tease your date a little and send him a photo, but in a rush you accidentally send it to your best friend instead. How will he react to getting such a spicy picture from you?

WARNING(S) | This is your official trigger warning. Do not proceed if any of these topics upset you. Best friends to lovers, smut [ Edging, oral (F receiving), overstimulation, squirting, use of a safeword, protected sex, implied aftercare ], angst,

A/N | I want to thank @avengersfantasies for helping me with this one when I couldn't figure out how to continue; you're a lifesaver! 🖤

Likes, comments, and reblogs will be very much appreciated 💚

Divider is made by @firefly-graphics | 18+ banner is made by yours truly

Main Masterlist | Ransom Drysdale Masterlist

You're looking through the endless lingerie options for your date tonight since you and Kenji plan to have a hot and steamy date. When your eye falls on a set of red lingerie, you pick it up and go to try it on.

As soon as you close the curtain behind you, you let out a sigh and start taking all your clothes off, ready to slip into the pieces of red lacy fabric you picked up.

The bra slips on like a glove, pushing your boobs up perfectly, making them look irresistible. Next up are the panties, and you turn around to look at yourself. You have never felt more beautiful and are not even finished yet.

You pull on the stockings and slide the garter belt into place, hooking the ends to your stocking to keep them in place perfectly. Now all that's left is to tie the bit around your neck like a collar, making the chain attached to the garter belt fall between your boobs.

When it's on, you gasp softly at how perfect you look because every inch of lace hugs your curves beautifully. It is molded to your body like a second skin, and that's when you think of a mischievous plan.

You stand sensually, making your boobs pop even more, and snap pictures with different poses. When you're about to send the perfect one to Kenji, one of the sales associates suddenly interrupts your train of thought.

"Ma'am, can I help you with anything?" she asks, and you accidentally tap Ransom's name instead of Kenji's, sending it to your best friend instead of your date. Not that Ransom minds seeing you in lingerie.

"Uhm, no, thank you! I'm taking this set, so I'll be with you in a few minutes," you say, feeling the embarrassment washing over you while you change out of the lingerie and back into your regular clothes.

You calm yourself down a little before walking to the register, and the woman politely smiles.

"That will be $125, please," she says, and you nod, getting out the cash to pay for it. When that's done, the sales associate puts it in a bag, and you're on your way home to start getting ready for your date with Kenji.

You just pulled out of the parking garage and turned on your podcast for your drive home when suddenly you're getting a call from your best friend, Ransom.

"Hi, Ran-" is all you can say before he cuts you off.

"My house. Thirty minutes. Wear that lingerie you showed me," he says before hanging up, and you're confused about what he's talking about.

Only when you're home and getting ready to get out of your car can you look at what he meant, and you realize the photo that was supposed to go to Kenji went to Ransom instead.

You close your eyes and think about the mistake you have made. But then again, this is the universe telling you to finally admit your feelings to your best friend.

You leave your car and go inside to change into the brand new lingerie - putting on a cute red dress over it.

Once ready, you return to your car and exhale as you climb into the driver's seat. During the drive, you're nervous - your hands drumming against the steering wheel as you try to keep your thoughts together.

You've done what Ransom asked and are at his house a little under thirty minutes later; it's good he lives close. When you leave your car, you wipe your sweaty palms on your dress and adjust your hair again before walking to his door and using your key to let yourself in.

"Ransom?" you call out, hearing your voice echo against the walls of his house.

He walked into the hallway with assassin-like steps - complete silence as he approached you. He looks like a predator hunting down its prey, and before you can even say a proper hello, his lips crash onto yours.

His actions take you aback, but you hadn't expected anything else to happen.

When you didn't turn down his kiss, he deepened it, and you let his tongue pry your lips apart - moaning into your mouth. Your hands make their way into his hair, and he pins you against the wall - letting you feel his growing bulge. You gasp when you touch him, and he pulls away from you, smirking seductively.

"See what your little outfit did to me?" he asks, and you want to answer, but it feels like your throat is filled with cotton balls.

"I- I didn't-" is all you can say, but he doesn't let you finish; his lips crash back onto yours, and his hands move to the knot on your dress, untying it swiftly, and it falls open.

"Oh fuck," he whispers to himself as he takes a step back, and takes in the sight of you covered in red lace, the chain between your breasts and the red stockings.

You let the dress fall to the floor, and that's when Ransom picks you up and quickly throws you over his shoulder on his way to the bedroom.

He thought about taking you right then and there but ultimately decided against it as he wanted to make you feel special for the first time.

"What are you doing? Where are you taking me?!" you yelp as he easily lifts you, everything suddenly upside down, and his hand is lying on your ass to ensure you're not going anywhere.

"You'll have to wait and see since you've been such a tease to me," he says, and you can't help but squeeze your thighs together at the thought of what he might do to you.

You were prepared for many things, but Ransom edging you for over an hour was missing from the list of things you were ready for.

"R-Ran, please!" you wail after he builds you up again, to pull away at the last second before you fall over the edge. Right now, you hate him more than anything, but you can't go anywhere.

Your limbs have turned into nothing but complete jelly under his touch, and Ransom's reveling in the thought, saying the filthiest things while still buried between your thighs.

"Hm, this cunt is so sweet; wish you'd have let me have a taste sooner, Baby. Will fucking ruin you for everyone else like the needy slut you are for me and my dick," he says, a moan escaping your lips at his words.

"Please..." you whine; your release is so close yet so far away at the same time, but this time Ransom does let you cum; however, he doesn't stop there.

"Makes me so fucking hard when you beg like a slut, when you're begging me to let you cum. If you're such a needy slut for it, you better cum now," he says, setting a brutal pace with three of his fingers inside and his lips wrapped around your clit, sucking the life out of it.

"FUCK, 'M CUMMING!" you scream out, and he keeps doing the same thing until your juices squirt out, and he knows the edging was well worth it now.

"Such a perfect slut for me, huh? Squirting for me like that," he says, and you whine softly as you come down from your high, but Ransom doesn't grant you that luxury.

He barely pulled his fingers out of you, allowing his tongue to lap every last drop of your juices as he fucks you with it.

"C-can't take more!" you tell him, but Ransom's determined to pull one more out of you. He needs one more orgasm before he's even going to think about filling you with his cock.

"Yes, you can, Baby. Just need one more from you now, and then I'll let you suck me off like a perfect slut," he says, his tongue going back to fucking and lapping your juices, his thumb now pressed on your clit until you fall apart for him again.

Loud moans echo through his bedroom and house, but you're too far gone to even worry about that. You're too wrapped up in pleasure and the thought of Ransom making you feel this good to care about anything other than him.

"Tastes so fucking sweet, Baby, tastes like peaches, and I can't get enough of it," he says as he attaches his mouth to your clit again, sucking and licking, but it is too much this time.

Tears are starting to form in your eyes from the overstimulation, and you're working up the courage to keep going and give him everything he wants, but you can't. You can't take anything else he's providing you right now.

Before you can fully comprehend what's happening, your mouth opens slightly, and you say it softly and barely audible. Still, Ransom hears you perfectly fine, stopping his motions immediately and stepping away.

"Red."

The two of you never talked about safewords, but that doesn't matter as Ransom backs away regardless, afraid he did something to hurt you.

"Shit..." he whispers to himself as you curl up into a ball and move back to the headboard of his bed. You feel bad about using the safeword even though you know it was the right thing to do.

Tears keep streaming down your face as you rock back and forth, your arms wrapped around your knees after you pull them up to your chest. Your eyes are closed, and that's when you suddenly hear Ransom throw a punch against the wall of his bedroom.

"Fuck!" he grits out through his teeth as he looks at his hand and back to you, looking scared out of your mind as big eyes are looking back at him.

He slowly walks over to the bed with his hands held up to show he's not going to hurt you and touch you without your permission, but it doesn't calm you down.

"Get out," you say before he can even reach the bed, and he looks down with defeat, but he does as you say, wanting to give you back the power over the situation right now.

You stay in his bedroom for an unknown amount of time while gathering your thoughts about what happened. It's not that you don't want him because you do, but he went too far by ignoring you, and that's what hurt most.

You feel incredibly bare in just your lingerie, so you go over to his wardrobe, fishing out a pair of joggers he never wears and one of his sweaters to make yourself feel a bit more comfortable.

You strip yourself out of everything except your panties and put on Ransom's clothes, ready to see him and talk about what has happened.

Ransom sits at his dining table, one of his hands in his hair while the other is getting iced. He looks up at you as you walk into the dining room and smiles at seeing you wearing his clothes.

"Can I sit here?" you ask as you point to the chair directly across from him. He nods as he looks up at you, and you can tell he's been crying, too, by the look of his bloodshot eyes.

"I'm sorry-" he starts, but you raise your hand, notifying him that now's not the time for him to talk. Right now, you have something to get off your chest, and this is the perfect moment to do just that.

"I want to start by saying that I'm not mad at you at all, Ransom," you say, and he looks up at you, the fact that he went too far still fresh in his mind.

You stretch out your hands, and he puts his free hand in it, letting yours envelop it. The softness of your small hands contrasts his big, calloused hands, making him chuckle softly.

"It's so cute," he whispers as he looks at your combined hands, and you chuckle at the sight.

"It is, but I want to admit something to you. I've wanted to tell you something for a few months, but I needed to figure out how or when. I- I have a huge crush on your Ransom, and I'm not sure when it developed, but I figured you don't feel the same, so I just kept it to myself all this time," you tell him, your heart fluttering a little now that your secret is finally out in the open.

"And I have to say that even though you went over my boundary and I had to safeword, I'm glad you did respect it when I used it, despite us not having talked about it. I do want to continue what we were doing if it is okay with you, but I do want to ask you to be gentle with me this time because I cannot take another version of what you did," you say with a polite smile, stroking Ransom's hand with your thumbs.

"God, I- I don't know where to start," Ransom says, gathering all of his courage to tell you how he feels since talking about feelings does not come naturally to him.

"The beginning might be nice," you joke, and Ransom can't help but laugh at your simple comment. This is precisely why he fell for you all this time ago. How sweet you are, your caring nature, your stupid jokes, all of it. And now that he knows you feel the same, he won't waste another second.

"I have feelings for you too, Y/N. Hell, I'm fucking in love with you, even!" he shouts, a burst of booming laughter following his statement.

"Been in love with you for I don't know how long, and now that I know you feel the same, I'm not planning on hurting you like I did, ever again. I am so sorry you felt the need to use it, but I also want you to know I'm proud of you for doing it. I'm sorry it had to come to that point, but I will make it up to you in every way imaginable," he says.

"I love you, Ransom," you say before getting up and walking to his side of the table. He moves back so you can sit on his lap, and you gladly do.

You get seated sideways to cup his face in your hands, stroking his smooth cheeks softly before leaning in and molding your lips to his perfectly. Two pieces of a puzzle, sliding right into place as they belong to one another.

When you pull away, he follows your lips for another, but you're just a little faster than him, much to his disappointment.

"I want to do this the right way, Ransom. Please take me out on a date and ask me to be yours. We both know I will say yes, but until then, I just want you. Ransom, all I want is you," you whisper in his ear, and a warm feeling spreads across his cheeks at your words.

"And how do you want me, Baby?" he asks, and you get a mischievous smile.

Your lips ghost softly over his lips, to his cheek, and you let out a warm breath on his ear before telling him how you want to fall apart while riding him so good he won't be able to think of anything else but you.

Now here you are, sitting on his couch in the living room, both completely naked while you bounce slowly up and down on his rock-hard cock. At least you still had the sense to make him put on a condom because if it were up to him, he'd slide in immediately.

Soft moans leave your lips while Ransom's hands touch you everywhere they can, from your shoulders and arms to your back and waist, to your hips and ass. Not a single inch of you is left untouched.

Your hands slide over his prominent muscles in his arms, broad chest, and chiseled abs; he looks like a Greek God. And the fucked out look on his face? Even better.

"I love-" is all you get to say to Ransom before your phone rings, and you lean back to grab it from the table behind you, showing Ransom who's calling you.

"Pick it up while you keep riding me so good, Baby. Want him to know it's me who makes you feel this good. That you're mine, and I'm never letting you go," he says between some groans.

You slide the incoming call button to the right, putting it on speaker, just as Ransom grabs your ass to give himself some leverage to fuck up into you as you pick up the phone, making you moan loudly.

"K-Kenji, hi! I'm a b-b-bit b-busy," you say, and you can hear the guy on the other end let out a deep sigh as he hears the skin against skin, your moans leaving your lips, and the groans coming from Ransom.

"Don't fucking bother to contact me ever again, you fucking slut," he says before hanging up the phone, and you drop your phone on the couch before letting yourself fall forward to kiss Ransom fiercely.

"Hm, I'm the only one who gets to call my girl a slut when I'm railing her," Ransom grits out, but he doesn't slow down in the slightest, instead only picking up his pace even more.

He keeps hitting your sweet spot repeatedly, and before you know it, you're falling apart on his cock, just like you said you wanted to. It only takes a few more thrusts from Ransom before he spills his seed into the condom, wishing he was shooting it into your bare cunt instead.

"F-fuck, feels so fucking good when you cum for me," he says, slowly riding you through both your orgasms until you're completely fucked out, your head lying in the crook of his neck.

"Love you so much, Baby. Can't believe I didn't tell you that sooner," he says, and you just hum in response, getting sleepy after the way he made you cum for him.

You stayed on the couch for a little longer before Ransom picked you up and carried you to the bath. He slipped in and put you on his lap, your head resting against his shoulder as he carefully washed your body.

"Thank you, Ran. Love you so much," you say when you're both done, and he gives you one of his shirts and a pair of his boxer briefs to wear to bed.

"I love you too, Baby. And I plan on making the date I'm taking you on unforgettable," he says as he snuggles you into his chest. The two of you fall asleep not long after that, and you've had the best sleep in a while snuggled up in his arms.