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#dark!ransom drysdale smut
miserable-sarah · 1 year
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Sit
18+
Pairing: Chris x Reader
Warnings: Cocky Chris, (Dom)Chris, (Sub)R, unprotected sex, cock warming, talking down on you, dirty talk, daddy kink, nsfw
Summary: Chris back from a business trip and very frustrated.
***
“Hi baby!” You yell running up to Chris, you wrap your arms around his neck and wrap your legs around his waist. You give a welcome home kiss, you pull away smiling. He was not.
“Hey” he says putting you back on the floor.
“What’s wrong?” You ask concerned usually he’s all over you when he gets home.
“Nothing” he mumbles grabbing a beer from the fridge. Maybe he just had a rough flight. He walk out the back door to the back yard. You stand in the kitchen unsure what to do. Usually when he’s mad he likes to be alone to work through he’s feelings but he just got back from a 5 day trip he should be all over you. You take a deep breath and put on a tough face. You walk outside.
“Hey” you say louder than you intended. He looks over at you eyebrows raised “uh” you shift uncomfortably “what’s wrong? You’ve been gone for 5 days and then you come hom-“ he cuts you off
“Not right now Y/n” you hesitate to say anything, Chris isn’t scary or abusive in anyway it’s just he’s usually not like this and you don’t want to push him.
“Yes right now” you cross your arms standing your ground. Chris gives you a ‘oh really look’ he moves in his chair so he’s sitting straight up.
“No Y/n not right now” his leg is draped over the chair keeping himself wide open. You bite you lip quickly.
“Why?” You try to keep your mind straight. Chris leans back in his chair and sips his beer. “Why?” You repeat yourself, he still doesn’t answer. He’s ignoring you, he knows how bad that pisses you off. You always tell him it’s one of the worst things he could do. “Are you seriously ignoring me right now?” He just flicks his eyebrow and takes another swig. You scoff and shake your head. You walk back in the house pacing back and forth. What the hell is wrong with him? Ignoring me? He’s been gone for 5 days 5 whole days. You just wanted some love and attention. You walk back outside.
“Why are you ignoring me. I just wanted some attention you’ve been gone for a long time then you come back looking good as ever and you toss me away like garbage.”
“Sit” he says stern not even looking at you.
“What?” You ask confused
“Sit.” He says more stern and hot as ever, he pats his thigh. You feel your knees getting weak and a familiar wetness creeping. You take a second before walking over to his chair. He looks up at you, you put your leg over his and straddle him. He gets inches close to you, you feel his warm breath on your face. Your breathing is shaky. “I said not right now.” Your whole body is confused, you're mad but so turned on you just want him right now. You go to get off him but he grabs your hips hard and forces you to sit on him.
"You just want me to sit here?" You ask, he just looks at you. "And you're going to ignore me?" You ask louder. You try to squirm but he won't let you loose. "Chris really" you sigh, he looks at you and pulls your dress up letting it settle on your hips. You don't say anything you just let him do what he wants. He slowly slides his hand down to your lacy thong just rubbing slow circles on the fabric. You bite your lip trying to hide any moans or demands you want to scream out. He slowly slips your panties to the side. You let out a little whimper, he tapped on your clit making you shiver.
"Unbuckle my belt" He says quietly, you do as he says. You undo his belt and hand it to him. “Good girl” he praises he grabs your arms “ behind your back baby” he says sweetly but there’s a stern dominance in his tone. You put your hands behind your back and he ties his belt around your wrists. “Go ahead grind on me” he puts his arms behind his head. You let out a shaker breath and start grinding on him, the friction of his jeans rubbing against you just right makes you let out a moan. “That’s good” he encourages you, you move a little faster. You can feel your slick getting on his jeans, you know he loves it just as much as you do.
“Are you going to” you pause letting out a little moan “are you going to fuck me daddy?” You ask licking your lips.
“Not yet. You don’t know how to listen.” He shakes his head giving you a disappointed look. You throw your head back with groan, you should’ve listened to him and left him alone but you just had to stand your ground. “Lean back” you do and he brings his hand to your clit rubbing it fast.
“Oh” you moan loudly he sticks a finger in thrusting it at a good pace “please I’m sorry” you try to beg. His other hand open his fly and brings out his hard huge cock. “Fuck” you moan just at the sight of him. He chuckles at you and your desperation. Chris removes his fingers.
“Sit on it” he smirks at you. You waste no time, you hover him and start to slowly sink down, he grabs your hips and slams you down on him. You let out a loud moan and so does he. You try to move but he holds you there. Still.
“It’s okay baby I can move” he laughs at you. Your eyebrows furrow confused
“No honey you’re not moving” he says in a mocking tone. “You’re going to sit here and keep my cock warm since you want to be so needy and not listen to what I say” you groan in frustration “no complaining, no moving, no talking or you won’t cum tonight understand?” He asks you throw your head back “understand!?” He says louder
“Yes daddy” you say defeated. Chris goes on his phone placing bets on a game. You sit there thinking about just moving up and down, he couldn’t resist you. Or maybe he could. You close your eyes trying to control yourself. You think about talking dirty to him, telling him his thick cock filling you up feels so good, and how much you’ve missed him and the way he makes you feel. You open your mouth but don’t say anything like a good girl. Chris moves his hips causing him to move a little deeper. You close your eyes tightly and bite your lip. Fuck this going to be hard. He’s going to tease you the whole time. You open your eyes and look at him. His perfect face, his amazingly good jaw line just asking for kisses, his perfect plumb lips looking the same. His large hands makes you more wet, his chest isn’t bare but his shirt is tight enough to show his muscles. God he was perfect and making you so horny that you just want to move and get fucked. Or at least just lay on him and cuddle, but mostly get fucked.
“What are you thinking about?” he asks smirking putting his phone down. You hesitate on answering not knowing if you should. “I told you no moving and you were just moving”
“I-I didn’t mean to. Promise”
“Don’t do it again. I mean it” he goes back on his phone placing his stupid bets. You patience running thin. He moves again making you whimper very quietly. You pray he didn’t hear you.
After sitting there for about a half hour you lean forward, your body was losing balance since he tied your hands behind your back. You lay on his chest and look up at him.
“Tired baby?” He asks making fun of you. You nod your head. His arms wrap around you and hold you to his chest. “Daddy’s almost done. You’re doing good” he kisses your head. You smile feeling good. He thrusts into you randomly, you let out a moan. “Was that a moan?” You shake your head no quickly “now your lying?” He tsks at you “well that’s what bad girls do” he repositions you, you bite your lip so hard you think you’re drawing blood. He picks you up and walks you inside you keep your mouth shut the entire time. He lays you on the couch. “I said no moving, no talking, no noises.”
“I didn’t mean to” you plead “you moved and you know”
“I really don’t want to punish you, but you broke the rules” he says picking you up standing you in front of him. He sits on the couch spreading his legs so you can get in between them. He unbuttons his pants and slips them off. “Knees” you fall on your knees and get in front of him. He pushes your hair out of your face and guides you down to his cock. You start sucking on the tip slowly.
“No teasing bullshit you’re already in enough trouble” his hand pumps what your mouth can’t reach, you take as much as you can as possible. You lick and suck on him like your life depends on it because right now it feels like it does. You hear Chris’ groans which turns you on even more. He reaches over and unties your hands. You pump him and suck, his hand grabs a fistful of your hair and shoves you down on his cock. You choke but stay put not fighting him. You can feel spit falling down your chin, he loves when you look this sloppy, this desperate. He lets you go and take deep breath’s looking at him through your eyelashes.
“You’re doing so good chocking on my cock just how I like” he praises moving hair out of your face once again. He looks at how swollen your lips are, how red your cheeks are, how your chin is covered in spit. “My needy dumb baby” he coos. You go back to bobbing your head back and forth working up the courage to take him all again. You moan just listening to his. You push your head down taking him all again. “God look at you, taking all of me. Just like you should.” You can feel tears rolling down your cheeks but you don’t stop. He yanks on your hair pulling up then pushing you back down. He lets out a loud moan before pulling you back up. You wipe your chin, he stands you up and so does he. He smashes his lips on yours, you kiss back sloppy. Just wanting all of him.
“I need you” you whine. He chuckles and lays you down on the couch. “Please daddy” you beg “please fuck me” he crawls on top of you, his fingers go straight to your clit rubbing it making you squirm. “Please no teasing” he kisses your neck sucking on the spots he knows you like. He moves his lips right to your ear
“I’m supposed to punish you. You were a bad girl. Too needy. Too dumb to stay still for daddy” he whispers you can feel tears in your eyes, you want him so bad.
“Daddy, I’m sorry so sorry. Please I need you” you say meaning and groaning. Chris looks at you studying your face. He kisses your lips sweetly.
“Fine.” He says you feel so relieved you smile.
“Thank you daddy I’ll be good I promise.” He positions himself in front of you and slips the tip in.
“You’re soaking wet for me huh?” You bite your lip and nod waiting for him to go in fully. “How bad do you want me?”
“So bad, I need you. I need you to fuck me so good I can’t remember my name” he smirks at you and thrusts into you. He goes almost all the way out and right back in bottoming out in you, it feels so good you could scream. He keeps hard thrusting into you making your back arch.
“Feel good? Look at you falling apart on my cock.” His eyes never leave yours “taking my cock so well.” He says through his teeth. You close your eyes tight letting out loud moans. You feel your body heating up, you know you’re not gonna last long. It’s all because of the waiting.
“Close already?” He teases “my dumb baby so pathetic can’t even last a minute when I have my cock buried in her” you moan even more listening to his words.
“Daddy I-“ you try to say but can’t “I”
“Go ahead cum all over my cock” you do as said and cum hard your legs start shaking, your eyes roll in the back of your head you see stars. You scream his name loudly. When you come down from your high you realize Chris never slowed down for a second. He’s still pounding you, your legs keep shaking and your body keeps squirming. Chris rubs your clit making you squirm more.
“Chris please” you beg not even sure what your begging for. It’s a lot of pleasure you don’t know how to react. Chris pins you down with his body trying to keep you still. “Oh my god!” You moan out
“Fuck” he groans. He stops everything and pulls out. He stands up and lifts you up throwing you over his shoulder taking you up stairs. You lay there lifeless enjoying the break. He throws you on the bed and you get into position, hands and knees. He comes behind you, he brings his hand down slapping your ass then rubbing it. He slaps you again making you jump and whimper. He lines himself and slips in you. He holds onto your hips and pounds into you over and over again. You bite the sheet trying to muffle your moans it’s not working though. He pulls your hair bending your head back.
“I love fucking this pussy. You fit me so well.” He groans, you can’t form words or even speak. You feel another tightness coming on. Chris leans on you whispering dirty things in your ear. Saying how much you’re made for him, how you’re just his dumb little baby, how your pussy was made for him, how dumb you are that you can’t even make words. Chuckling at you making fun of you and you love every word and every second.
“I” you start to say but can’t finish. Your brain won’t work, your drooling, your legs are shaking, you’re face down in the bed barely able to keep your body up. He’s holding your hips up. You moan loudly your legs shaking, your vision goes black, you can’t hear anything. You are in complete and total pleasure, you’re pretty sure your screaming bug you can’t tell.
“Good girl” he says kissing your back. Chris thrusts a few more times before getting sloppy. “You want me to fill you up? Fill this pussy up?” You nod your head yes. “Say it”
You try to gather yourself enough to say something but only moans and whimpers come out. He slaps your ass a few times.
“Please daddy” you say breathless “cum in me” you groan. He kisses your back again, his thrusts even more sloppy, his moans and groans still getting to you. He pulls out and flips you over, he sets your legs on top of his shoulders and slams into you again.
“I want to look at you when I cum” he explains. You throw your head back enjoying the new position. “Look at me” he says to you tapping your face. You look him in the eyes biting your lip.
“Cum daddy, make me feel full” he kisses your neck biting on it.
“Fuck” he groans “you feel so good around me” he nibbles at your ear. He at you and kisses you softly. You can feel yourself filling with warm cum. You sigh at the feeling.
“I love you” you whisper. Chris pulls out and flops on the bed next to you. “I love you too” he says catching his breath. You move over laying on his chest.
“I missed you” you say breathlessly
“I know I could tell” he chuckles pulling you closer.
“I’m serious” you laugh. “And you were mean” you pout at him.
“I know I’m sorry” he sighs
“What was the problem?”
“Honestly?” He looks at you “I missed you the whole time and had a terrible trip all I wanted when I came through the door and saw you in that dress was pound the fuck out of you” you look at him confused “I just pretended to be mad”
“Chris” you say hitting his chest laughing “you could’ve just had sex with me”
“I wanted it to be fun” he wiggles his eyebrows. You shake your head and give him a kiss. “Alright I’ll get up and get you cleaned up. Tomorrow it’s stay in bed all day and do whatever daddy says day” he winks at you. You smile and nod agreeing.
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boxofbonesfic · 10 months
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Title: 𝙳𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚕𝚐ä𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛 [5]
Pairing: Dark!Ransom x Reader, Lloyd Hansen x Reader
Summary: Your husband’s twin brother has always made you uncomfortable, and after two years of marriage, you finally find out why. 
Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Possessive Behavior, Stalking, Kidnapping, Basement-wife, Gaslighting, Manipulation, Breeding kink, Smut, Darkfic, Dead Dove: Do not eat!
Word Count: 3,761
A/N: i cannot wait to see what you all think of this latest development! please drop by my ask with thoughts or comments, and as always, thanks everyone for your patience! ❤️ divider by @firefly-graphics​
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To your absolute horror, Lloyd doesn’t stop. You’re dizzy, both from the realization and the even, steady grind of his hips. It’s terribly familiar, the way he touches you—like it’s not the first time. Your stomach rolls as an anguished wail tears from your lips at the thought, because it’s the same one you’ve been shoving down, burying underneath every single other thing you can think of, because it couldn’t be true. Ransom wouldn’t do that you, he wouldn’t—
But he has.
Lloyd clucks his tongue at you, and reaches forward to cup your face. “You can scream, Princess.” He grins. “I know you can’t keep quiet anyway.” His words turn your stomach. Your arms, previously paralyzed at your sides, come up to push frantically at his face and chest as you curse. 
“Get the fuck off me, Lloyd!” You scream, but he doesn’t move—doesn’t even falter as he continues to rut into your shamefully wet cunt. He doesn’t budge, like your blows don’t even hurt. It makes you even more panicked, your eyes growing wide as you sob. Frantically, you scream for your husband, your voice swallowed by the crashing surf. 
“Ransom—! Ran—” Lloyd silences you with a kiss, swallowing your fear as he presses his lips to yours. Your shock allows him entry, sweeping his tongue into your mouth as you squirm beneath him. Lloyd catches your arms easily, forcing them back against the rock behind you.
“What’s the worst part, Princess?” He asks mockingly, his amused chuckle puffing against your lips. “That it’s me? Or that you liked it? That you always liked it?” You don’t want it to be true, shaking your head as you stare at him with tear-filled eyes. He nods in response, as slow and deliberate as his thrusts. Your stomach churns with the combination of this forbidden knowledge and the unwanted pleasure that creeps up your spine. 
He knows your body, that much is obvious. You don’t know how you didn’t see it before, a hundred thousand puzzle pieces falling perfectly into place as your life crumbles around them. Lloyd holds you like Ransom, kisses you like Ransom—
Or does Ransom kiss you like Lloyd?
He plays your body perfectly, like you’re an instrument he’s already  mastered.  Even as your head swims, the thick weight of his cock drawing pleasure from you even as you fight against it. You can hear it, how wet you are, how much your traitorous body is enjoying Lloyd. It’s maddening, the way you clench and quake beneath him, struggling ineffectually against pleasure you don’t want. He transfers both your wrists to one hand, using the other to cup your chin. 
“It’s really not as bad as you think,” he coos, dragging his thumb through your tears. He kisses you again, painfully softly. “I know what you like.” Lloyd’s fingers taste like the sea as he draws them across your trembling lips. “I know what you hate.” He traces circles around your puffy nipples, before painting stripes of salt-water down your belly. He spreads your lips wider with two fingers and draws those same circles around your clit. 
“I hate you!” You grit through clenched teeth, through your furious, shameful tears. Lloyd clucks his tongue, before leaning down to nose at the skin of your throat. 
“No you don’t, Princess. You love Ransom—so you love me. We’re the same, baby-doll.” He leans up, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “Don’t you get that yet?” You don’t want it to be true, it can’t be, they’re so different—but even as you think it, you know he’s not lying. You’re reeling, the stretch-burn, the raw pleasure of him inside you, the knowledge that he’s been there before—
You wail as you cum, staring unseeingly at the sky. Lloyd doesn’t even give you the courtesy of slowing down, instead fucking you steadily through it with his cock and fingers buried in your cunt. He carries you, unwilling, from one height to the next, twitching and pleading. When he finally pulls his fingers from your soaked folds, he sucks them clean. 
“Love you so much, Princess,” he groans, rocking his hips steadily into yours as you mewl miserably. “I can wait for you to know you love me too.” His fingers press the skin of your hips like Ransom’s. Lloyd sucks your bottom lip, worrying it between his teeth with a growl. He holds you still while he empties into you. As he pants against your mouth, he grins. 
“Feels good not to have to pretend.” 
“Get off me.” You hiss at him, glaring at him with red-rimmed eyes. This time, he listens. He pulls out of you with an appreciative hum, stopping briefly to admire the slick, sticky mess he’s made. You pull your swimsuit down roughly, tugging your shirt tightly around yourself like a shield while you grab your now soaked shorts from the water, and begin to struggle into them. 
“Let me—”
“Don’t fucking touch me!” You shriek, jumping further backwards into the surf. You slip on the rocks, barely remaining upright as you scramble away. “Y-you don’t touch me!” You brandish a slick rock in your hand as threateningly as you can. “I—I’m going to tell Ransom, an-and—”
The look he gives you is almost pitying. “Oh Princess. Go on and tell him.” He nods at you with a sick smile. “Tell me what he says.” Lloyd holds his hands up as you retreat, giving him as wide a berth as you an as you circle back to shore. He doesn’t follow you, watching as you stumble across the sand.  You head into the trees and underbrush ringing the beach, fleeing your brother-in-law’s gaze. You know the general direction of the hotel, and you head that way, opting not to go back to the party. 
The party. Your stomach turns as you think of it now, Linda’s words holding fresh meaning now. Did she know? Did Ransom? The entire idea was so ludicrous you could scarcely believe it was really happening—but it was. It had. The evidence of Lloyd’s transgression was smeared between your salt-stained thighs. You want to vomit, and so you do, leaning against a tree as you heave into the sand. 
“Sweetheart?” 
You look up, your eyes wild. It’s Ransom—or Lloyd. You don’t know, now, torn between wanting to rush into his arms, or turn and run. You simply stare at him distrustfully, mirroring his step forward with one back, maintaining the distance between you with careful precision. 
“Baby, what’s wrong? You just wandered off, and—”
“Are you Lloyd?” You ask sharply, swallowing the desire to respond to his concern. You can’t trust your own eyes now, not anymore, and you don’t want to get close enough to verify. 
Ransom stares at you confusedly. 
“No? Why would you ask me that? Did something happen?” He takes another step closer, his arms outstretched placatingly. There’s true worry on his face as he takes in your wretched state, your open shirt and wet shorts, dirty feet and missing shoes. “Baby, did something happen?” He asks again, slower and more deliberate. You want to believe him, this man wearing your husband’s wedding ring, staring at you with the same eyes as the man you’d run away from. 
“Tell me something about the fountain.” 
“The what?” 
“The fountain!” You shrill hoarsely. “The fountain, from—”
“The one in the village,” Ransom finishes. “With the messed up tiles.” 
This time, you can’t stop yourself from rushing into his arms, sobbing. 
“I—Lloyd, he—” The words won’t come out between your hiccoughing sobs, and you settle for burying your face in his chest as Ransom wraps his arms around you. He holds you tightly, pressing you to his body as you wail. The truth sticks in your throat like taffy as you tangle your fingers in his shirt, tears soaking into the expensive fabric. 
“It’s okay, Sweetheart.” His voice is soothing. “I’m here. I got you, okay? I got you.” He doesn’t rush you, waiting until the tears slow to press a kiss into your hair. “You don’t have to talk right now. Let’s get you back to the room, okay?”
Ransom practically carries you through the underbrush, emerging near the  long stairwell up from the beach. Your family—and his—are still down at the party, but you barely spare them a glance as you stagger up the sandy concrete steps. Before long, the ringing in your ears blocks out the music anyway, and all you can think about is Lloyd’s response to your threat. 
Go on and tell him. Tell me what he says.  
Lloyd is nowhere to be seen as you enter the villa, and you release a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You didn’t even realize you’d been watching for him, waiting for him to appear like he always did—but he doesn’t. You’re relieved as Ransom leads you back into the bedroom and closes the door behind you. For a moment, you’re not sure what to do with yourself, standing blankly by the door while Ransom watches you helplessly. 
“Sweetheart… can you tell me?” He asks, resting his hands on your shoulders. You flinch at his touch instead of leaning into it, and pain flashes briefly across your face. Somehow, you are hesitant to name the shape of the monster that haunts you even now, like Lloyd had cursed your jaw to stick. With difficulty, your force it open. 
“He—he pretended… he was you. And… we… I didn’t know, Ran, I didn’t know it wasn’t you,” you babble, tears forming in your red, glassy eyes. You’re expecting to see his face crease with disgust at the part you won’t say out loud, but it doesn’t. Ransom’s silent, his face scrunching first with disappointment and then anger. You can tell he’s looking for an outlet, and he settles on routine. 
“Did you take your vitamins, Sweetheart?” He replies, a worried hand on your belly. “Does anything… hurt?” You shake your head. 
“N-no.” Ransom turns to the dresser, grabbing the bottles and shaking out your pills one by one. You take them, shuffling into the suite’s bathroom. You  a cup cool water from the faucet and bring it to your lips, swallowing them down with a grimace. 
“Let’s get you a bath, Baby.”
You nod wordlessly.
Ransom helps you get undressed, and you watch his jaw tic at Lloyd’s drying cum on your thighs. He fills the whirlpool tub with hot water, and you shift uncomfortably from foot to foot as you watch him. When it’s full, he helps you into it before splashing into the water himself. He sits on the back side of the tub with you between his knees, reaching down to hold you as you sink into the water. 
You lean back against your husband, fresh tears pooling in the corners of your eyes. I want to wake up now. There’s little you wouldn’t give to open your eyes and find yourself on the beach, this terrible nightmare broken. But when you do open your eyes, you’re still in the bathroom, your husband’s hands rubbing soothing circles into your skin as you wash away the evidence of his brother’s sin. 
“Oh Sweetheart. I’m so sorry. I… I don’t know what to say.” He strokes your hair as he speaks to you softly, gently, like he’s soothing an animal. “Lloyd’s a lot of things. Impatient, being chiefest among them.” You freeze, the air seeming to flow right out of your lungs—out of the whole room. The dripping of the faucet is as loud as thunder. 
“W-what?”
“I didn’t want you to find out like this, Sweetheart, believe me.” You wrench yourself away from him, water sloshing over the sides of the tub as you stare at your husband in disbelief. It feels like reality is crumbling to nothing as you  watch, bleached into dust by the brightness of his sad smile. It’s all you can see. 
“N-no, no no no no—” He reaches for you, and you slap his had away, tripping as you scramble out of the tub. “You knew.” You moan, bile rising in your throat as you wrap a towel around yourself. “You—you always knew.” Ransom rises from the lip of the tub and steps out onto the tile. You want to vomit, but there’s nothing left to bring up as you dry-heave into the sink. 
“Sweetheart, I need you to calm down, this stress isn’t good for the baby.”
“The baby—” You let out a despairing little laugh. “How long, Ransom?” You ask him hoarsely. “How long have you been letting this happen?” Finally, your husband has the decency to look ashamed. 
“Does it matter?”
“Yes!” You scream, pounding a fist against the counter. “Yes it fucking matters!”
“I think before New Years, last year.” 
“A—a year?” You choke out the words as you clutch your belly with a shaking hand. The baby—you don’t even know if it’s Ransom’s. You feel dirty, despite having bathed. Deeper than your skin, like something inside is tainted, rotten. You want to crawl out of it, leave it behind like a shell. Perhaps then you might be able to draw enough air into your tight lungs to be able to do more than sputter your husband’s words back at him in abject disbelief. 
You don’t want to relive the last year and a half but you can’t help it, flipping through the moments like flash cards as you try to pinpoint every transgression, every lie. For every possible memory that feels wrong, there are dozens of blank spaces, empty places where recollection should be. Your husband had poked his finger through the thin saran wrap of your memories, and you hadn’t even realized it was happening. 
Ransom reaches forward to rest a hand on your back and you shove him so hard he stumbles, your eyes wild. 
“Don’t touch me. You—you will never touch me again.” You hiss, the words ragged. Ransom scowls at you as you storm out of the bathroom, the towel still clutched against your heaving chest. You can barely hear anything over the sound of your own ragged breathing and the thundering of your heart. They’d been switching off for over a year, and you hadn’t even noticed. Sickness and shame twine in your gut as you snatch the clothes in the closet off their hangers, throwing them into your open suitcase without bothering to fold them.
“Sweetheart, don’t be rash. The baby—”
“Will not even know your name.” You don’t look at Ransom—you can’t. You feel like you don’t even know him, and you can’t help but wonder if you ever did. He’d known—hell, maybe he’d even participated in Lloyd’s sick games. The man you’d thought you married would never have stood for that. You grit your teeth as Ransom scoffs amusedly behind you. 
“You’re just going to pack your suitcase and go, is that it?” There’s a cruel edge to his voice you don’t recognize—it makes him sound like Lloyd. “Baby I’m just trying to give you what you want.” You glare at him over your shoulder before returning to packing, refusing to even entertain the discussion. You push past him to get to the dresser, pulling out the rest of your things. 
“You’re not thinking clearly, and I think if you really stopped and gave it some thought, you’d realize you’re making a mistake.” 
“Oh, I’m the one making the mistake?” You can’t help but turn to spit venom over your shoulder. “You and your brother took turns on me like a fucking carnival ride, but I’m making a mistake?”
“You wanted a big family, a stable family. One nobody could touch—”
“You’re sick.” You swallow against the bitter acid in your throat. “How can you try to make this okay? I—I never want to see you again. Ever. I—I really, truly mean that.” The needle inside you continues to swing between rage and abject horror as you dress yourself, practically shoving your limbs into the most convenient pair of shorts and a t-shirt. Your head buzzes with the turmoil of it all, practically full to bursting. Your passport is still in the bedside table, and you make sure you grab it, shoving it into your pocket before throwing open the bedroom door. 
It’s hard to breathe around the ache in your chest as you drag your heavy suitcase down the hallway, trying to ignore the sound of your husband behind you. You’re bordering on hysteria, frantic tears and snot running down your face as you flee your husband’s placating words. That’s probably the most maddening part of it—how he continues to parse out the words slowly, patiently, like he’s waiting for you to realize how sensible he’s being. You’re about ten seconds away from clapping your hands over your ears like a child, so you don’t have to hear him anymore
“Sweetheart, let’s talk about this.” Ransom calls after you. You stagger against the wall as your knees tremble, but you force yourself through it. Your heart is beating wildly, your palms clammy as you look back at your husband. You don’t expect to see him smiling. “You’re not being rational, baby.” 
You don’t even know how to respond. The only words that seem to come to mind are insults, curses; the violent ills you’re currently wishing on your husband and his family. You can’t listen to him—it’s only going to make you more enraged. You already feel like your heart is about to beat out of your chest, as you gulp down ragged breaths, your vision swimming. You rest a hand against the kitchen island, your whole body throbbing hotly with your pulse. 
“Shut the fuck up, Ransom,” you pant. “You can’t spin this.” 
“Oh, I don’t know about that.” He ignores your acid glare, leaning forward to curl a lock of your hair around his finger. You push him away, but the movement is clumsy, your hand swinging bonelessly at the end of your arm. “You know how persuasive I can be.”
“You’re really just like him.” It slips out before you can stop it as you shake your head in astonishment. 
“Oh what, you just figure that out?” Ransom’s voice is mockingly soft. “It took you long enough.”
You slap him. 
The sound of it is loud and sharp, and Ransom’s head actually turns with the force of it, your husband stumbling back a few steps. It was his surprise that had allowed it—you and Ransom had never struck each other, not counting the playful smacks he delivered in the bedroom. For a moment he stays like that, frozen, before slowly turning to look at you. Your wedding ring had split his lip, and you watch as he draws his thumb across it smearing the bright line of crimson across his mouth. 
“You’re starting to piss me off, Sweetheart.” His hand clamps so tightly around your wrist that it hurts, and you yelp, pushing uselessly at his chest. Ransom had never been violent with you, never even given you reason to suspect he would raise a hand to you, but as he bends you over the kitchen island, you feel fear. Your husband twists your arms behind your back, ignoring your pained whimper when he squeezes too tight. 
This—this isn’t happening. It’s not. My family is here, my, my father—
You wail, the sound muffled by the marble countertop and your tears, salt and snot running onto the counter beneath your cheek. 
“Just let me go, Ransom—”
“Oh Baby we are way past that.” The kiss he presses into your hair makes nausea churn in your belly, and you let out another sob. “I put a ring on that—where’s your finger, baby, let me see—ah! There it is.” Ransom holds your hand up, his fingers digging into the meat of your palm. “On that finger,” he continues, tapping the diamond with his fingernail. “Till death do us part, Sweetheart, that’s what we said. That’s what you promised me—and Lloyd.” 
 “You’re crazy—” The words stick in your throat as your vision tunnels. I feel sick. You do, your stomach churning as your heartbeat thunders in your ringing ears. 
“Wha-you do’t me?” The words are like bubblegum in your mouth as your husband chuckles softly. 
“You didn’t really think those were all vitamins, did you?” Your eyes widen with horror as you begin to struggle again, flailing your uncoordinated limbs as you try to force Ransom off of you. “Now don’t worry, it’s nothing that could hurt the baby,” he says reassuringly, as if that is your only cause for concern. 
“Noo,” you moan, wriggling feebly beneath him as you feel yourself recede further and further into your body. “Don’ wannit.”
“I know, Sweetheart. But what you want isn’t good for the family,” he says, stroking a gentle finger over the curve of your cheek. “You want to run, too run from what we’re trying to build with you. For you,” Ransom releases you as the sound of nearby voices reach your buzzing ears. “I’m not going to let that happen.” 
He steps away from you as Nathalie bursts through the door, holding a champagne bottle by the neck as she dances to music blaring from her phone speakers. 
“There you are, chica, we were looking—mom! Dad! She’s in here! I thought you—are you okay?” She sets the bottle down on the small table to the right of the sliding door. She rushes over to you, looping one limp arm around your shoulders as concern sets into the lines of her face. “Jesus, I—Ransom! What’s wrong with her?!”
Your husband appears in your tunnel-vision, carding a worried hand through his hair. 
“Thank fucking Christ, Nathalie—I was just going to text you. I think she’s having a reaction to something, I don’t know—” 
“Nn-Nat don-bel—eev ‘m,” your warning slurs together into an unintelligible soup as your head lolls. Nathalie tries to stand you up against the counter, and dimly you are aware of her calling for your parents, her voice muffled like she’s talking underwater. 
Lloyd—or is it Ransom?—lays you down on the countertop, his grinning face looming over you as your vision narrows down to a pinprick, the concern in his voice at complete odds with the grin on his face.
“Don’t worry. We’ll take care of you.”
to be continued…
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Thank you for reading! Please check out my masterlist for other, similar works, and follow my library blog, @box-of-bones-library for updates. ❤️
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babyjakes · 2 years
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darling dangers.
〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉
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event | kinktober 2022
prompt | vibrator
pairings | mean!dark!best friend!ransom drysdale and soft!dark!best friend!jake jensen x innocent!reader
warnings | non/dub-con (reader is reluctant and resistant.) ran and jake are absolutely taking advantage of reader. ran is an asshole, jake is a little better. heavy humiliation, babying, dumbification, mocking and degradation. crying kink. ransom holds reader down. pussy slapping. forced fingering and use of vibrator. heavy clit focus. multiple forced orgasms. squirting. overstimulation. jake is doing most of the work, ransom's just there to be mean lol.
word count | 2,312
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an | um oh my godddddd, ,,, this idea has been swirling around in my brain for so long and finally, finally i get to bring it to fruition >:-)) welcome to kinktober, whores <333 also sorry if this one feels awkward or rusty? i've been writing whump for the past month so getting back into the filth felt a little clumsy :-((
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As soon as you see the small black box sitting out in the open on the counter between your two best friends, both of their faces drawn in expectant expressions as they stand just waiting for you to walk in on the perfect scene they've orchestrated- you know you're in deep, deep trouble.
Ransom's crossing his arms, a small smirk forming on his face when he sees how wide your eyes have gone. Jake's giving off more disappointment than amusement, which honestly hits deeper than the twisted pleasure his counterpart's apparently finding in the whole ordeal. Gulping as you take a step forward into the kitchen, your voice betrays you by trembling as you dare to speak up. "R-Ran? Jakey? What's going on?"
"You know, it's funny, princess. We've been wondering the same thing," Ransom jests as he places a steady hand on the counter, crossing one ankle over the other as he pauses to glance at the blonde standing beside him. "Right, J? We never would've imagined our precious little angel- our sweet, innocent y/n- turning out to be such a whore."
Tears prickle in your eyes at the remark; bottom lip puffing out slightly in a pathetic frown, you shake your head in defense. "N-no, don't say that. S'not true."
"Aww, look at her, Jake. Think she's gonna cry already. Go on then, sweetheart. Know you can't help it, you've always been such a sensitive little thing."
Brow stiffening in anger, you glare at the brown-haired boy. "Stop it," you whisper through your hurt and confusion. Why are they doing this to you? They're your best friends, your Ran and Jakey. What would ever drive them to humiliate you like this? You would've never seen it coming. "Wh-why were you going through my mail, anyway? You have no right."
"Well, it helped that we were expecting the package," Jake finally breaks his silence, letting out a small sigh as he crosses his own arms. "An email popped up about your order status while I was helping you fix your phone last week. Couldn't believe it, our sweet y/n, ordering from a site like that. But it looks like there was no mistake here." Turning slightly, he reaches out to pick up the little box with a single hand. Eyeing the picture on the lid, his disappointment only seems to grow as he looks back at you, "Buggy, d'you even know what these are made for? You have no business buyin' something like this; you're much too little, y/n."
Cheeks burning at your friend's patronizing words, your eyes narrow further. "Of course I know what they're made for, Jake. I... I'm not stupid, I'm a big girl. I can order whatever the hell I want," you shot back.
At that, Ransom chuckles as Jake can only manage to shake his head in further disappointment. "A big girl, huh? We'll see about that, babycakes."
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Everything happens so fast, you're barely able to process it. Before you know it, the pair have whisked you away to your bedroom, Ransom laughing cruelly as he carries you over his shoulder. In the blink of an eye, they have you surrounded on the plush duvet of your queen-sized bed, the brunette coming up behind you to trap you in his arms. As he leans back against the pile of pillows at the head of the bed, he brings you with him, pressing your back up against his broad chest as you squirm in haste. Jake approaches the two of you on his knees, the box with your new toy still clasped in his hand. Writhing a bit as Ransom tightens his grip on you, you finally find your voice. "What the fuck-? Let go of me, let me go! What are you doing? This is-"
"I'm sorry, sweetheart," Jake tells you sadly as your other friend eventually gets a good enough hold on you to overpower your resistance. "This is for your own good, y/n. You need'ta learn not to mess around with these things. It's not safe for a little girl like you."
"Learn? What do you mean?" you cry as Ransom's large hands come up to pry your knees apart, using his own strong legs to hold you open. As soon as you feel the cool air of the apartment hitting the thin layer of fabric covering your delicate mound, you freeze. Peering down with wide eyes, you see that your little tennis skirt has flipped up in the most unfortunate of ways, leaving your lacy pink panties on full display for everyone in the room's viewing pleasure. Heart pounding heavily in your chest, you clear your throat.
"R-Ran, Jakey... please..."
"We're not gonna hurt you, baby. Just gonna show you how dangerous these things can be, that's all. You're safe," Jake hums as he lays down on his tummy before you, scooting up between your widespread legs to come almost face-to-face with your now quivering core.
"Pink lace," Ransom snorts from behind you as his hands rest greedily on your inner thighs. "She really is a little slut, isn't she, J?"
Tears pool in your eyes as your cheeks burn in embarrassment. "P-please, please don't look," you beg, your tears earning a sympathetic frown from the blonde beneath you as he reaches out to run a tender hand over the lace of your panties.
"We're gonna be doin' a whole lot more than lookin', sweet thing," he admits as his fingers press against your dampness. "And would you look at that, someone's already gettin' wet." Squeezing out a few more tears as the man prods at your thinly-covered heat, you can only whimper in response.
"Doesn't surprise me. Bet she likes us being all rough, holding her down and spreading her open. You like that, sweetheart?" Ransom teases as he brings a hand up to cup one of your breasts over the flimsy yellow tank top you're wearing. "Never wears a bra around us, either. She's just asking to be played with." At the feeling of his cool hand slipping under your top to search for your beaded nipple, you cry out, straining against his wicked hold- but it's no use. Compared to Jake and Ransom, you're nothing in terms of size or strength. And now that they've got you where they want you, you're completely at their mercy. And you're not sure how much you can trust their promise of safety, not after all they've just done to you.
The meaner of the two laughs darkly as he finds one of the little knots of flesh, pinching and rolling it between his fingers as you cry softly to yourself. "Responsive little thing, isn't she?" he marvels as Jake takes to dealing with your panties; for a moment, he pushes them aside, but then after a few seconds of rethinking, he instead just decides to simply take the thin strip of fabric in his hands, pulling harshly until the band snaps apart completely.
"There we go," he murmurs as his eyes settle down on your dripping folds. "Such a pretty little pussy you've got, sunshine. It's a shame you didn't decide to share sooner."
Looking down over your shoulder to take his own peek, Ransom groans at the sight of your untouched petals. "Fuck, y/n. You've been keeping that all to yourself? Bet no one's ever done anything like this to you before. This your first time, princess?" Your words only continue to fail you as you lower your head in shame, your response giving the two boys all the answers they need. "Well too bad it has to be wasted on a punishment. Dumb little girl thought she could order a big girl toy- these things aren't made for you, baby. You're gonna realize that very quickly."
Pulling his hands away to fiddle with the box, Jake takes his time removing the little blue bullet from its packaging. The friends were smart enough to make sure to charge it before their little ambush, meaning they now have the benefit of its full battery life to spend on teaching you your little lesson. "Here it is," Jake hums, clicking it on carefully to the lowest speed. "Now sweetheart, I'm gonna give you one chance to get yourself outta this," he bargains.
That catches your attention. Raising your weary gaze to meet the blonde's soft set of eyes, you nod reluctantly. "I want you to show me and Ran exactly what you were gonna do with this thing. Want you to use it just like how you were planning when you bought it. And if you're honest with me- with us, and show us everything it was gonna do for you, we'll let you go."
Blinking, you take a moment to think. It's a good offer, you will admit, and he even seems genuine about keeping his end of the deal if you follow through with it. But there's a part of you that just can't bear the thought of demonstrating the crude acts you were intending on performing with the toy, at least not to your two best friends in the entire world. He left it unsaid, but it was implied: Jake wants you to make yourself cum for them. And you just can't do it, you know you can't. So you decide to do the only other thing you can think of: play stupid and pray they buy it.
Swallowing thickly, you nod. Shifting a little, Ransom releases one of your hands, still holding your breast hostage beneath his fingers, almost as an impending threat. Watching you carefully, Jake hands you the buzzing bullet, the strength of the toy's vibrations causing your hand to tingle ticklishly as you suck in a deep breath.
"Go ahead, cutie. Show us," Jake encourages.
Trying to keep your hand from shaking, you brace yourself as you bring the object down between your legs, searching a little to find your glistening hole. Squeezing your eyes shut, you push in, letting the low rumble of the vibrator settle into your core.
"Alright, that's enough," Ransom snaps, causing you to jump as Jake rips the toy from your heat and grasp. "Stupid fucking baby, that was a big mistake. Are you really too dumb to know where it goes? Or do you just want us to punish you?"
Shaking his head in disappointment, Jake sighs heavily. "Good girls don't lie, y/n," he states harshly as Ransom resecures both of your arms down against your back before reaching between your legs to land a few forceful slaps against your bare pussy.
You sob at the sting, gasping as his hand comes up to pull back the hood of your clit. "Give it to her, she was asking for it," he nods to Jake.
Turning up the toy a few clicks, the blonde focuses in his gaze on your little bundle of nerves as he gently collects some of your wetness on the twitching head of the tool before easing it up against your button, earning a strained gasp from you as your whole world's set on fire. The burning is unlike anything you've ever experienced, heat blooming in your core as you burst into more tears at the sensation. Shaking his head knowingly, Jake's voice is full of disappointment as he chastises you, "I gave you a chance, y/n, but you either lied to me, or you're just way dumber than I ever imagined."
"Look at all those tears," Ransom all but moans as he twists and pulls at your nipple, grinding subtly into your back as he holds you down for Jake's torment. "Keep it right on the head, pal- don't cut her any slack. What's the matter, sweetheart- huh? That too much for you? I thought you were a big girl who could handle big girl toys. Of course you're not," he laughs darkly, only egged on by the feeling of you writhing against him, "you're just a stupid little baby who needs to be taught a lesson."
"Think she's learning pretty quick," Jake comments as he practically drools at the sight of your wetness leaking out onto the bed beneath you. Using his free hand, he gently eases a finger into you, curling up gently to rub at your soft, spongey ceiling as your eyes roll back in horrific pain and pleasure.
"Please, please..." you're reduced to mere sobs as you feel the pressure of your orgasm building up more and more in your tummy. "Please, n-no-... wait-... stop-..."
"There it is. C'mon, baby. Cum for us, it's okay," Jake coos as he twirls the head of the bullet over your swollen clit. "That's it, there you go," he sighs with a small smile as you're forced over the edge, your back arching painfully as you squirt out onto his waiting hands.
"Fuck," Ransom curses from behind you, his cock bulging needily at the sight of you being forced to cum. "She's a fucking squirter, would'ya look at that. Better than anything I was dreaming of," he groans as your little toes twitch from the overstimulation, your sobs growing louder as you come down from your high.
"P-please, please, no more!" you hiccup, the continued vibrations against your now engorged button enough to bring you to your knees.
"You think she's learned her lesson, Ran?" Jake asks doubtfully, already knowing what the answer will be as he stretches you open to add a second finger before turning up the bullet another few notches.
"No, I don't think we're anywhere near finished," the brunette responds cruelly as he slaps his hand down a few times against your throbbing heat before pulling back on your lips again to spread you out once more. "She needs at least one more, maybe two. Gotta really show her how dangerous that little thing can be."
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2K notes · View notes
onsunnyside · 1 year
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³¹.⍭ 𝐊𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐚 (𝟏/𝟐)
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𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 | Major Crossover—ghostface!boyfriends!: Ari Levinson, Steve Rogers, Curtis Everett, Ransom Drysdale x cheater!reader
𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | SOFT DARK themes and elements, cheating, revenge, obsessive/possessive behaviour, jealousy, competition, size difference: all 6’7-6’9, manhandling, manipulation, coercion. SMUT - minors DNI, NON-CON/DUB-CON: they’re all wearing the same mask & reader doesn’t know who it is, oral (m & f), balls sucking, fingering (f), dirty talk, chase kink, daddy kink, p*ssyjob, size kink, spit kink, choking, p*ssy spanking, exhibitionism (public sex), degradation, dumbification, ruined kink, overstimulation, squirting, creampie.
𝗪/𝗖 | 8.23K
𝗔/𝗡 | happy Halloween !! hope you all had a spooky day, here is my last fic for spicy October, a finale with all our fave daddies. enjoy !! all mistakes are my own.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 & 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲: @𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲
𝐊𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐚 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | ˗ˏˋ𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟐 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭ˎˊ˗ ⋰˚ 𝐂.𝐄. & 𝐂𝐨. 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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“That was the money from my grandfather's will.” 
Curtis snorts, “as if you don’t have the cash to spare.” 
Ransom’s glare hardens, “It’s from my dead grandfather—I mean, my murdered grandfather. Am I not allowed to be upset that she stole money from my grandfather who was murdered in cold blood?”
“It isn’t stealing if you voluntarily spent it on her.” The other burnet countered, “I assume money is the only way you know how to show affection. Mommy and daddy didn’t know how to deal with you so they filled that emotional void with money, and you continue it in all your relationships. It’s a never-ending cycle.”
“At least I know my parents, orphan.”
Ari tunes them out, staring out the wide window into the night. The howling winds sway the forest surrounding the Thrombey mansion and the shadows bleed through the glass, covering him from head to toe in the same shade as his profound emptiness.
Three years. Three fucking years of his life gone to waste. 
Every time he blinks, he sees you from senior year. The beautiful, popular, high-achieving student who never looked his way, although he tried hundreds of times to get your attention. From playing his heart out on the football field when you were in the crowd, attempting—and failing—to be your partner for projects in classes you shared, and volunteering to help for events that you were organizing, one of those being your senior prom. The theme was an extravagant masquerade ball, strange for a year of rambunctious teenagers, but perfect for the elite private school. 
The venue was decorated in hues of vermillion, gold and grey, with speckles of white from the feathers and clear-beaded arrangements in the middle of each table. Sheer fabric and ribbon hung from the ceiling, draped low to mimic the magical atmosphere. Fairy lights glimmered alongside sparkling chandeliers, illuminating the ballroom in a warm yellow glow. Red roses, gold plates and vintage-styled candelabras sat atop black tablecloths and complemented the metallic chairs. 
During the few weeks of setting up the venue, his friends consistently poked fun because he was whipped for a girl he’s never spoken to. 
He broke that shameful streak the day before prom, and until today, that was the stupidest he’s ever felt. 
“Oh, I don’t have a date.” You answered after he asked what colours you and your date were going to wear. 
Ari’s face twisted in disbelief and utter confusion. The revelation scattered every organized thought, making him a total fool. “Why the fuck not?”
He’ll never forget the stunned expression on your face. 
“I mean—you’re really fucking pretty.” The words flew out like a swarm of wild bees, dancing in front of his horrified eyes, taunting him. 
You burst out laughing, throwing your head back and nearly toppling over one of the tables. “Well thanks, I’ve been asked a couple of times but none of them are my type. They’re all meatheads.” You finally caught your breath, soft giggles tumbling from your glossed lips. “Like the football team, ugh, just a bunch below-average, tit-brained idiots.”
Ari frowned deeply, “I’m on the football team.” He was positive you knew that, hell, you’ve organized fundraisers for the sports department. 
You grinned, “I know. But you’re actually cute when you’re dumb, way above average.” You patted his broad shoulder and walked away, the short uniform skirt swaying with each step. 
Ari remembers standing there like a moron before finally bolting after you. He caught up to you in the parking lot and asked you right then and there, almost dropping to his knees to beg when you took a second too long to answer. But you said yes, smiling so sweetly he could’ve died. 
“—the same day. The same fucking day! That has to be a record!” Curtis snarls, pointing a finger at Ransom, “and you were on a date too, so you can’t say shit about cheating, jackass.”
The playboy moves his hand with two fingers, nonchalantly shrugging. “I found someone I wanted to spend the night with, is that a crime?”
Curtis gritted his teeth, his shoulders rigid under his leather jacket, “I won her a ginormous bear and fingered her in the photo booth, and she was already fucking two other guys!”
“Dating. She was dating two other guys.” 
“Same shit!”
All this time, the second boyfriend has remained silent. Steve stares at his lock screen, a blurry photograph of the two of you the morning after a date at the pier. You’re half asleep but he wanted to commemorate the most perfect night of his life. 
He was convinced that he was the lead in a romantic film, and it all bloomed from his awful first impression. 
“Will you ever actually talk to me? Or will you just continue to stare at me from across the shop?” You smiled down at him, your skin glowing in the morning sun. “Here, you look like a cupcake kind of guy.”
A red velvet cupcake is placed in front of him, right next to his hand which had his pencil in a death grip. He quickly releases his hold and stares blankly at you, stunned and bewitched because he’s never seen you this close. Heavenly is the way he’d describe your features, each curve and dip of your face is burned into his brain from his endless sketches but at this moment, it feels like he’s seeing you for the first time. 
Since that day, he believed in love at first sight. Now? It’s up for debate. 
“Sit. I mean, please sit. Only if you want obviously.” He covers his red cheeks, not even bothering to shut his sketchbook. You already saw the dozens of drawings of you from various angles, all sprawled across the pages like they belonged there. “You know what? Never mind, I’ll go. I’m  sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable.” 
He was going to leave, pack up his things haphazardly and dash out of the coffee shop before embarrassment ate him alive, but you called him back. 
“I’ll stay, but only if you show me what else is in there.”
And he did, shyly at first but as the minutes dragged into hours, he got more confident and gave you detailed explanations of each piece. He rambled on and on about a sketch that took up two pages, it was an elderly couple watching the sunset on the beach, the waves crashing in the background as their heavily detailed silhouettes were in the foreground. He spoke as if he knew them when he was only a mere bystander to their love story. 
“I saw them almost every day that summer. On that same bench and holding hands.” He sipped his cold coffee, never breaking eye contact with you, “They’ve probably watched tons of sunsets in their lifetime, but it’s cute, y’know? That they still do… soft things like that.”
Steve was a nice guy. He was recklessly kind, tutored people in his class, and always helped his coach with pregame preparations. He donates all his old clothes and always asks owners before petting their dogs. 
If he was so good, why did bad things happen to him? Was it his fault? 
He kept pushing you to meet his family. In his defence, you’ve been dating for two years and he talks about you nonstop, his parents have been begging to meet the girl who has their son’s heart, and praised him for finding the one so early on. 
It’s a shame that the one was never his to begin with. 
The worst part of all of this wasn’t the cheating—well, it was, but the other worse part was your blatant dismissal for taking the next step in your relationship. You’ve met their families, you were very close with Ari’s and met Curtis’ and Ransom’s who you’ve only been dating for less than a year. 
What was so different about his? 
“Cheap fucking slut.” Ransom mutters. “She’s so greedy that she needs four cocks.” 
“Hey, watch your mouth.” Steve frowns, “She’s still my girlfriend.” 
Curtis bites his tongue and swallows whatever snide remark was on the verge of spilling out. As much as it hurt, he knew where they were both coming from. He hated your guts, yet the masochist part of himself admired your bulletproof nerve and capability, and the other much softer part was still madly in love with you. 
He prided himself in being observant, reading people like open books and anticipating their words and actions so that he was always prepared—that’s why he knows how to push Ransom’s buttons. It didn’t take a genius to notice how stuck up and spoiled the brat was. He couldn’t believe how you put up with him. 
How you got away with this for so long was a wonder. Whether it was by sheer luck or cautious scheming, you played them all like puppets, pulling their strings however you pleased for the grand production. The success came with applause and satisfaction, it boosted your ego and made them into fools. 
Don’t even get him started on your fucking friends who probably worshipped you for your stellar performance, praising you for dancing on their hearts with false innocence. Curtis has met them and only now he can recall the mischievous twinkle in their eyes, he would bet that they downgraded him to a pathetic nickname like boyfriend number three. 
He would’ve noticed something sooner if you didn’t have him pussy drunk every time he saw you. He’ll admit it—he’s whipped. 
You may be a good-for-nothing cheater, but you were his fucking pornstar. 
He supposes that’s the thing about pornstars, they surely got around. 
Curtis wouldn’t openly admit it to the rest of the guys—his girlfriend’s other boyfriends—but if you called him right now and asked him to come over, he’d be on his motorcycle in the blink of an eye. You were a twisted, disgustingly hot mastermind who could spit in his face and choke him, and yet, he’d still dick you down. He was into that freaky shit anyway. 
Of course, as much as he pretended, he wasn’t all tough. Under that steel demeanour, he’s aching, battered with betrayal and fears of inadequacy. 
Grey clouds loomed over that island of self-doubt, a place all four of them have since sailed to and made home, sharing their confusion, anger and grief. 
All of this mess started from simple curiosity. Ari recognized a little lacy thing in one of his fraternity brothers’ rooms, and lo and behold, it was your panties, the same ones he bought you a few months prior. 
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“Oh, oops. My girl left those in my pocket.” Curtis chuckles and waltzes in, dropping his skateboard by the closet. He’s wearing that signature black beanie and carrying that smell of cigarettes and mint gum. “She’s so cheeky, huh?”
Ari doesn’t acknowledge him at first. His fingers feel around the fabric before hooking in a hole by the band, and then his heart stops. 
The other brunet watches strangely, “Uh, can I have those back?”
Perhaps any other person in a fit of confused rage would’ve wrapped their hands around Curtis’ throat, but Ari didn’t. He’s caught off guard when Ransom walks by and pops his head in, his blue eyes locking on the purple lace with blue bows. 
“Where did you get those?”
Those five words erupted an argument that shook the walls. Curses were spat and accusations were pointed every which way until the world decided that three out of four wasn’t enough.  
Steve was on his way home when he heard the shouts from a few houses down. 
He burst into the bedroom with wide eyes and was welcomed by his friends arguing and tearing crumbled lace from each other’s hands. Then, the universe works its magic again and the sheer fabric lands on the floor a few feet away from him. 
His gaze drops and he cocks his head to the side, but that puzzlement swiftly fuses into disbelief that shakes him to the core. The air falls to an ear-splitting silence as realization dawns, freezing them all where they stand. 
The first to speak is Ransom, he lets out a boisterous laugh. “What a little cock hungry bitch. Well played, I’ll say, well played.” 
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After everyone calmed down and Steve stopped crying and dry heaving, they made the journey to Ransom’s mansion for the sake of privacy, who knows what their other fraternity brothers would think? They’d pity them, but no one would understand their circumstances. No, that gracious gift was split between the four of them. 
“So, who gets to have her?” All eyes fall on Steve, the 6’8 figure hunched in a small chair and clutching a pillow to his chest. 
Me—is spoken in all their heads. Fury, greed and vengeance don’t mix well with love. 
“I had her before you.” Curtis says to Ransom and reclines on the leather couch, stretching lazily, “Did I forget to mention she sucked my dick that night? Oh… and you kissed her too, huh?” He smirks, “I don’t know about you but I’d rather not know my parents than know what a stranger’s dick tastes like.”
Ransom clenches his jaw, “You poor cunt—”
“Don’t worry, I’m sure the girl you ditched that day is still into you. Call her up and see how that goes, trust fund baby.” 
“If we’re going with whoever had her first…” Steve trails off, swallowing the lump in his throat. He cried when he found out about your unfaithfulness, and he cried on the way to the mansion and already excused himself a few times to cry in the bathroom, yet he was seconds away from crying again. “Then i-it’s you.” 
Six blue eyes pool with hesitance, then tentatively land on the tallest frat boy. 
Ari’s wounds run the deepest, piercing through his skin that you’ve marked with your lips and hands. You’ve branded him, traced your name on his chest as you two talked mindlessly about the future, where you see yourself after graduating from that pretentious university halfway across the world. 
It wasn’t the distance. If it was, why did you date three other guys from the same city as him?
“Has she contacted any of you? While you two were arguing, she tried calling me.” He stares down at the missed call. The candid contact photo glares back, it was from your last birthday just before you blew out your candles. A surprise party he planned for you. 
Everyone checks their phones. 
“She just cancelled our date.” Ransom grits his teeth, glaring at the screen with your adorable yet revolting apology. 
I promise I’ll make it up to you, daddy! I have a huge project coming up but I’ll miss you! Please don’t forget about me :(
“Ours too. Apparently, she has a project.” Curtis itches to call you right now and give you a piece of his mind but he’d rather see your face when your castle of lies crumbles to the ground. 
You were always so pretty when you were helpless and ruined. 
Steve’s phone is the last to chime. He gulps nervously and flips it over with a furrow between his brows. “She wants me to visit her next week.” 
“Fucking bitch.” Ransom growls, throwing his phone across the room, it dents the wall with a loud thump. Everyone would be taken aback if he hadn’t broken four glasses already. 
“I—uh, what do I say? Do I make up an excuse that I can’t go?”
Ari uncrosses his arms, blinking slowly. He was calm and it was terrifying considering how furious he should be. He knew you first, he fell for you first, he had you first, yet he was as peaceful as a boat on a gentle stream. “You don’t want to see her?”
Steve slumps over in a big hunk of muscle trapped in a too-small t-shirt. For someone usually happy and energetic, it was comical to see the new star player of the football team so defeated. Millions of bodychecks and tackles couldn’t amount to the gut-wrenching aches and emptiness, and Ari was the only one who understood that too. 
He still wasn’t over the fact that he’s been playing on the same team as the guy who was fucking his girlfriend—their girlfriend?
“Of course I do. I love her.” 
Steve was soft, to say the least, everyone knew that when they saw him walk into the fraternity house with a wide smile and a tray of freshly baked cookies, “I wanted to make a good impression and my ma says food is the best way to do it,” he said in a Brooklyn accent, “can’t have my frat brothers hating me, that’d be a shitshow.” 
Hate wouldn’t be the word they’d use, but they weren’t completely comfortable with each other like before. 
What are the chances that all your boyfriends enroll in the same college and join the same fraternity at the same time, even when all of them were attending different schools the previous year?
Fate was probably fed up with your deceitfulness. 
“You’ll invite her here and we’ll all have her.” Ari decides, his dark eyebrows knitted tightly, “we’ll share. That means, the two of you get along or get out—”
“—this is my house.”
“I didn’t fucking ask.” He snaps, “If this is going to work, we’ll have to get along, or at least pretend to. And at the end of the night, no one loses, no one wins, but she gets what she deserves.” 
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For the hundredth time, Steve looks down at your hand in his. Your freshly manicured hand contrasts with his black gloves, and the glitter nail polish matches the dainty diamond on your ring finger, the one he bought you for your one year anniversary. You got him a chain necklace that he’s never taken off and with his bubbling nerves, it feels like the silver is burning through his skin.
“You okay, baby?”
As always and regardless of the conditions, he swoons at your lovely voice. Oh, he was neck-deep in his desire, trapped and made into a damn clown, yet his heart still sang for you. 
“Yeah, doll. Are you?”
You grin and kiss his cheek with your glossed lips. “I’m perfect, daddy.” You’re happy that Steve begged you to come home instead of flying him to you. 
This was your first time visiting his new college and elite university parties were nothing like the ones in the city. They lacked closeness and freedom since everyone was concerned about wrong angles or nasty rumours. Here, people just wanted to dress up, have fun, and celebrate Halloween on rented-out property in an old farmhouse. 
“I’ll get you another drink.” Steve pats your hip and you scoot off his lap, occupying the free spot on the couch. He asks around for other refills and turns to you, tilting your chin up with his finger, “You want something to eat too?”
“No thanks, do you want me to come?”
Steve snorts, brushing you off with a claim of chivalry. You watch him walk away and ignore that little voice of guilt, the hushed dejected calls of three other names. They didn’t matter right now, you were with Steve and thinking about them any longer put all of your relationships at risk. 
You love them all, but in different ways. There were different things to love about each of them, distinct qualities to admire, and little habits to remember. You were diligent with everything, that’s why you’ve gotten away with it for so long. 
You grew up quite spoiled, always getting whatever you want from your parents who never used the word no. It was all on a shiny silver platter, from prized jewelry to new wardrobes, fancy cars and luxurious vacations. That part of you never grew up, you still wanted it all and got it—just like how you wanted four men and got them. They weren’t disposable to you, no, they were the loves of your life. You valued them, but obviously not enough to respect their trust and the sanctity of your relationship. 
When Steve returns, you don’t waste any time. Your body presses against his and your lips trail down his neck, gently pushing the hood off his blond head, “I’ve missed you, daddy. Haven’t you missed me too?”
Steve has since gotten over his heartbreak and nerves. It took a bit of liquid courage and some direction from Ari, but he was ready. No longer a sad, pouting puppy but a vengeful beast, smelling out your lies like a fresh kill. It’s that deep-seated hunger which spurs him on, prompting him to pull you to the dance floor for a few songs. He yearns to feel your body against his, your irresistible warmth, and that magnetic force that pulled him to you two years ago. 
You turn around in his hold, slowly grinding against his thigh. “I did what you asked…” You trail off, bringing his hand under your tutu. It isn’t out of character for you to be so forward, but it catches you off guard when he gropes your flesh. His fingers trace over the plug through your nylon tights and lace leotard. “Did I do good, daddy?”
“So good, baby.” His voice drops low, rumbling in his chest, his hard bulge rubs against your hip. “You always do so good for me.” 
You were his best girl, his pretty doll who couldn’t do any wrong. He’d do anything you asked, bend over backwards to fulfill your any wish but that would change tonight. It was time for you to be stretched thin for his demands and satisfy his needs. 
“I want to feel your mouth on me.” 
Under any other circumstances, Steve would have felt embarrassed for saying that aloud, but all those worries fly out the window when your eyes twinkle and you nod obediently, truly the whore that Curtis said you were—well, he actually called you a fuckhole.
Steve wrongfully thought your body was his for the past two years, but at this moment, he chose to believe you were wholly his. 
“You okay, sweet girl?”
You nod eagerly with your mouth locked around one of his balls, your tongue traces the seam before suckling. You’re so messy and struggle to take his full sack, slobbering filthily as saliva dribbles onto your pristine costume. 
His gaze locks on your face, your cheeks are wet and hot with tears, and his spit hangs out the corner of your swollen lips. Your tongue swipes out for it before licking up his leaky cock, following the protruding veins to the fat tip. 
“You like when I stroke your cock, daddy?” 
“Yeah, baby. Go deeper, you’ve done it before.” His neck tenses when you gag on his cock, fisting what couldn’t fit in your mouth. “Fuck, that’s it.” 
The music vibrates throughout the house, the loud conversations flowing in from under the bathroom door, but you didn’t care, not even with your sore knees pressing into the cold tiles, or your feather headpiece jostling with every bob. 
His heavy weight on your tongue and his taste filling your mouth sends tingles through your body, but you force your hand away from your throbbing cunt. This was for Steve, your sweet, loving and fucking hot boyfriend Steve.  
“So pretty down there, doing so good for me.” Steve pants heavily, guiding you to kiss up and down his pulsating length. The mushroom head is enveloped between your lips and you lick his slit. You’re usually a tease, but Steve has different things in mind. 
He secures a hand behind your head and pushes down until his tip hits the back of your throat. You try to control your breathing, but it’s futile with his massive length violating your airways, hammering deep and rough. You choke around his girth, saliva spills down your chin, and tears pool in your eyes but you’re determined to bring him to that precipice. You take whatever he gives—from more spit on your face to brutal thrusts. 
He forces you down further and rocks his hips, fucking your mouth like he hated you. “Look up at me, wanna see my pretty girl sucking my cock.” 
You preen under his words, blinking up at him as tears stream down your face. Wet, garbled noises fill the small bathroom as you cling to his hips over his tattered robe, piercing the thin fabric with your nails. 
“That’s it, good fuckin’ girl. Take daddy’s cock,” like the dumb whore you are. A stupid slut who isn’t content with only one man but needs several to suck dry—you’ve stolen it all, their time, money, and love. You didn’t deserve his cum right now, but Steve was too fucking soft. 
He growls your name, pumping your mouth full of his hot seed. There’s so much that some seeps through the corners of your lips, following in the lines of your spit and tears, deliciously ruining your makeup. He forces you to stay there, filled to the brim and choking on his cum. After what felt like hours, he lets you pull off. You immediately swallow his seed and lick the sensitive tip for any rogue droplets, peppering messy kisses up the flushed flesh. 
He helps you stand and rubs your cheek, smearing the spit, cum and tears into your skin. You moan and dip down, suckling his fingers and slowly lifting your dress. In the mirror, he sees your ass through the paper-thin nylon and sheer white leotard, and that plug snugly in your puckered hole. 
The reflection only emphasizes the differences, you clad in a blinding, pure white against his black robe, glittering and feathery while he was dark and looming. The similarities are only visible to him, two people playing pretend. He thinks you should win an award for your performance. 
You’re smaller than him, and so much weaker. He could pick you up and fuck you senseless against the wall, make your whines pour out for everyone to hear. 
“Wanna see it, daddy? I did it for you.”
He does, but his phone vibrates on the counter. 
Ransom: Time’s up. We don’t have all night.
It physically hurts to push you away. “In a bit, sweet girl. Let’s go enjoy the party, okay?”
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The night goes on, party songs blare through the old farmhouse, rattling the old walls and windows. It’s safe to say you were momentarily satisfied after blowing Steve, the night was still young and you had all weekend to jump his bones before you left the city. 
You found a group of people to chat with, easily joining their conversations. They were interested in your private school life, so you entertained them with stories of your strict years in ironed uniforms from your early childhood to university career but unlike them, you had zero knowledge about Greek life. 
Apparently, there were a few fraternities on campus, “your boyfriend is in one, didn’t he tell you?”
“Uh, no. He didn’t.” 
You almost forgot which boyfriend you were here with until one of them asked where Steve went, and Halloween night must bring magic because just as they asked, your date popped up from the backdoor. He headed straight for you and tugged you away by your arm, not bothering to greet your new friends. 
You giggle, already tipsy from your first few drinks. “Where’d you run off to?”
He doesn’t respond and drags you outside, weaving through the bodies crowding the back porch illuminated by fairy lights. The crisp air fills your lungs, tainted with smoke, but it’s refreshing after being in a stuffy house all night. 
You apologize to the few people you bump into, blindly stumbling after your boyfriend. He’s practically body-checking people out of the way and hauling you like dead weight. He’s so rough that your bag slips from your wrist. “Steve, my purse!” 
Ransom huffs and spins around to grab your bag before continuing his trek to the woods, slowing down for your sake. This time, you follow easily, slightly inebriated and giddy, not questioning a thing—even though Steve was acting very different tonight, you were excited about anything else he had in store. 
The darkness grows the deeper you walk, the light from the farmland property swallowed by the vast abyss. You make out the shapes of the trees and your boyfriend in the muted moonlight, although your dress is still bright, especially the rhinestones glimmering across your body. 
“I wish we matched costumes… I need my prince.” You flirt, “I am a princess after all.” 
The irony almost makes him laugh. You dressed as an untouched white swan, a cursed princess. There was no purity within you, the bleached tulle and feathers on your body were nothing but a mockery for delicacy and heartache. 
“We could’ve been the cutest couple here! But you just wanted to hide under that robe. Are you scared I’m gonna find some marks that aren’t from me?”
Your teasing is cut short when he pins you against a thick tree, your back slams into the jagged bark and the back of your head throbs dully. Stars cloud your vision and you almost don’t notice when he drops to his knees between your legs. “What the hell—Steve!” With his head under your tutu, he makes quick work of tearing off his mask. The ghostly disguise falls to the forest floor face up, the horrid expression glaring at you. 
You try to pull up your dress but he bats your hands away, quickly distracting you with a flat tongue up your clothed cunt. You gasp and your thighs tremble when his wet muscle flicks against your clit, his saliva and your slick soaking through the white lace. 
“W-Wait, right now? I, fuck.” Your back arches when he bites your thigh. 
The silent night is interrupted by an awful tear. Your nylon tights meet the same fate as your lace leotard, torn to bits by his wild hands. 
“Daddy, uhm, I don’t—” Your voice breaks into a moan when his thick fingers slide to the hilt and he harshly sucks your clit. He doesn’t work you up to it, no, he starts like a starved man. He fucks you with two fingers, nudging the plug with his other hand while dining on your button. He latches onto the nub, massaging the nerves with his tongue as your pussy clenches around his digits, sucking him in. 
He’s so rough and sloppy, making out with your cunt and hungrily slurping up your juices, disgracing the surrounding nature with the lewd noises and his guttural groans. Acting as if he hasn’t touched you in a lifetime.  
Ransom briefly considers fucking up the whole plan just to see you properly. He misses your pretty face, your messy cunt and weepy hole, he feels you dripping but he would do anything to see your creaminess coating his fingers, just like his pinky ring. 
The tree bark digs into your back as he hoists you higher. His spit splatters against you before his teeth drag along your clit and he nibbles mockingly. He soothes any aches with his tongue, trailing down your slit to lick into your hole. You whimper when hard slaps land on your nub, and he isn’t as kind this time around and rubs it roughly, bullying your sensitive button with his skilled fingers. 
“Uh! D-Don’t stop, daddy. Please don’t stop.” You pant, already on edge from your previous escapade in the bathroom. You wondered why he didn’t touch you then, and now you’re thankful you waited. Your body has a mind of its own and rocks against his clean-shaven face, fucking yourself on his tongue. He hums against you, either with some degrading comment or praise, you didn’t care. 
You fist his hair under your tutu, legs quivering as he replaces his wet muscle with his digits, pumping knuckle deep. His fingers hit that rough patch with every thrust, forcing your juices out and into his awaiting mouth, racing you toward that edge of euphoria. 
His faint curses go muffled as you convulse, your thighs lock around his head, trapping him against your pussy. You cry out his name, so close to your high that you can taste it—sweet, addictive and full of relief, but you’re yanked from that delight when he pulls back. 
The cold rushes against your wet folds, making you whine from the abrupt loss of his wet warmth. Your concerns die in your throat when he puts on his mask, wiping his fingers on his robe. Your weak legs drop to the ground as he leans back and tilts his head, studying you behind the plastic face. 
Your heart pounds in your chest, the tightness unravelling within your stomach. “Why—Why’d you stop?”
All he does is laugh and stand up, dusting off his knees casually. You call out his name and in confusion, watch him turn around and walk back to the house, leaving you in the forest alone, soaked, and fucking high and dry. 
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At the sight of that familiar mask, you duck and turn the other way. Your drink is almost done so you toss it in the trash and sway through bumping bodies, ignoring the heavy footsteps that are somehow louder than the bass. 
Were you avoiding him? Yes, but with his tall stature, he could easily spot you above the crowd and that limited your hiding spots. 
He deserved it for leaving you out there like a sacrificial lamb. What would’ve happened if you had been shitfaced drunk? You’d probably pass out on the ground and freeze to death, and he’d be responsible for it, the dumb fucking jerk! If he abandoned you out there now, there was no telling if you’d find your way back to the house because tonight, you found out that more drinks go well with holding grudges. 
You scream when your whole world is flipped upside down, and instantly recognize that stupid tattered robe, “Everyone can see my ass, jerk!”
Curtis snorts, you’ve probably fucked everyone in this room already and showing them your ass should be the least of your worries. 
You’re set on your feet in a dark corner of the packed living room, the strobe lights flash across the heads of partygoers, and the music booms loudly, drilling some pop song into your head. He pulls you flush against his chest, crushing your tutu between your bodies.  
“Get off me, asshole.” You try to wiggle free, but he’s too strong and big, he doesn’t even flinch when you stomp on his foot. “Ugh, I said get off!” You squirm when his hand slips between your thighs, meeting your bare cunt. “Steve!”
A sharp spank lands on your pussy, making your legs go numb but he holds you up with one arm, rubbing torturously slow circles on your swollen nub. With the booming music and the alcohol flowing through your system, you don’t register the different voice in your ear. 
“That isn’t what you call me.” 
You shiver, the warmth radiates off his body, luring you with his presence. You’re still wet and so sticky that your slick has smeared to your inner thighs, right where his fingers are tracing now. His touch ignites that fire again, all too effortlessly making you into a needy mess. 
In the flickers of red, he can see every thought leave your head. Dumb little girl. You thought you could hide from him? 
Curtis’ reaches in the slit of his robe to unbuckle his belt, and you’re too preoccupied with riding his fingers. His cock slides between your soaked, ruined folds, replacing his hand as he prods at your soppy hole. You go slack as he rocks slowly but never strays too far, letting you feel every inch.
“D-Daddy, oh!” You snap your jaw shut, “what are you—”
“Hush, you don’t want people to catch us, right?” He asks, thrusting forward until he nudges your puffy button, rubbing the sensitive nerves with the tip. He groans lowly, Ransom really bullied you down there.
Your eyes squeeze shut, your thoughts jumbling together from the overstimulation. “We—We shouldn’t, daddy…” Your voice fades when his hand wraps around your throat, his rough fingers digging into your skin and he forces you to face the crowd.
“None of them know who you really are, huh? What you really are?”
If anyone looked over, they’d instantly know what was going on. It was obvious from your blissed-out expression and his rocking hips, your weak hands grasping at his forearm as he squeezed harder. 
The oxygen goes thin as your eyes roll back, your bones turn to jelly and soon he’s your only support. His beefy arm pins you to his chest, keeping you from falling over as he thrusts into your weepy folds, the bulbous tip catching on your hole but never penetrating. 
If he could, he’d spit in your mouth, make you gag on his saliva until it dribbled down your chin. He wants the whole world to know what a slut you are, and how needy you get for cock that you’ll let him use you just feet away from other people. 
Curtis knows you love the risk. He knew that the moment he met you—because you kissed him in the photo booth and slipped his hand up your skirt, begging in your soft voice for him to touch you. 
Your lips part with a silent moan. He can’t resist slipping two fingers into your mouth, reminiscing when you sucked his dick that very same day and swallowed everything he gave you. Fucking cockslut. There were times when you dropped to your knees under his desk and rubbed over his clothed cock until he let you suck him off. You loved when he used you and when he was mean, acting like a damn bully instead of your loving boyfriend. You wanted to be degraded, ruined and downgraded to a cocksleeve, and that’s why you were his fucking pornstar. 
He still has that photo strip of you smiling, all fucked out and dumb with spit, tears and cum on your face. Your very first picture together and you didn’t even know his last name at the time. 
“Pl-Please let me come this time, daddy.” You plead, weakly meeting his thrusts. 
This time?
Curtis holds back a huff, of course, Ransom would tease the hell out of you. No wonder you’re so pathetic right now, not even thinking straight as he takes you apart on his girth. The partygoers couldn’t see his face, but they could see yours, and how stupid you looked getting fucked in the corner of the room. 
“You gonna come for me and cover daddy’s cock in your cream?” He asks, “Come in front of all these people, show ‘em what a fucking whore you are.”
If you weren’t so dazed, you would’ve realized that Steve has never called you a whore, he barely used slut either. Preferring to call you his sweet baby, his pretty doll, his girl, as he took you apart with suffocating love, those long fingers and his monstrous cock. 
Your high topples over and you cling to his arm, victim to the wave of bittersweet relief. Your orgasm coats his length, claiming him as it streams down your legs, seeping into your tights. You’re so lost in the pleasure and unable to contain your loud pitiful mewl, drawing a few drunken gazes. 
Curtis crowds you, blocking their eyes and presses you into the wall. He grips his cock, slapping the head against your pulsating clit before drawing back, the tip barely pops in before his seed spurts out, filling you up. Some escapes and the thick white cum follows in the trails of your squirt, and the feeling of being owned almost gets you worked up again. 
You can’t hear much with the blood rushing through your head, but you make out a few words: “bathroom” and “clean yourself up.” 
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“W-Wait, we’re goin’ too far…” You slur, clutching the fresh seventh or eighth drink that your boyfriend shoved into your hand. Your previous one spilt all over the floor when he hauled you out of the bathroom. You barely finished cleaning yourself up before he barged in. “It’s your fault I was a mess, daddy… You can’t be mad at me.” 
He doesn’t speak or falter, his purposeful strides so long that you flounder after him. 
“Where are we,” you hiccup, “going?” When faced with no response, you dig your feet into the ground, but your ballet flats are useless in the dry, crumbling dirt. “Hey! I’m talkin’ to you!” 
He stops suddenly and you squeak, bumping into his broad back. Punch—or whatever it was—spills out of the cup splashing onto your white dress, staining the tulle and feathers a bright scarlet. 
“Ugh, Steve! Look what you did!”
He turns around, cocking his head like you were a child throwing a tantrum. 
Your feeble attempts at cleaning the mess only make it worse and spread the vibrant red. “I really liked this costume, and now look… It’s like I was stabbed.” You pout, the alcohol making you a little emotional. “Y-You ruined it! And I-I felt so pretty today—” 
He wraps you in his arms, cooing softly while rubbing your back. You drunkenly cling to his warm body, feeling his muscles under the hooded robe. 
“Let’s stand here for a bit… you gave me a lot of drinks.” You nuzzle into his chest, brushing off the difference of his cologne. Cold night air brushes along your nylon-clad legs, fluttering the delicate mesh of the tutu. You’ve lost some rhinestones as the night went on, but nothing a little hot glue couldn’t fix. “You’ve never done public stuff like that, Stevie. You’re usually so private about us.” 
He shrugs, the booming music is distant but the heavy bass still pounds in your ears. 
“You don’t wanna admit it? C’mon, I won’t tell.” You flutter your lashes, a trick that always works. “I’m into it too, and how you caught me off guard only makes it better.” 
Through blurry vision, you spot a guest house a few ways away. The lights are off, the driveway is empty, and an idea pops into your head. “We could have some real fun, daddy. Don’t you wanna have fun with me?”
This time he hums and drags his hands down your back, gripping your waist. He yanks you close, pushing an oof from your throat. 
“You’re never so rough either.” His bulge presses against your front and you nearly drop to your knees right then and there. “Do you wanna keep the mask on?”
He nods, the lifeless black eyes and dramatically opened mouth absorbing any light, contrasting with the ghostly white face. He’s looming like a shadow the size of a mountain, intimidating you by merely looking at you with a dead gaze as daunting as the creepy fictional character. 
You thought Steve didn’t like horror movies. 
You lean up to kiss him, but he spins you around so quickly that you almost fall over. Tall corn stalks and various pumpkins sit on hay bales under an archway forebodingly lit by lanterns. 
You giggle, “Ooh! You wanna race to see who finds the exit first? I’ll have you know, I’m quite the pro. I go whenever they have one at the pumpkin patch!”
Ari fucking knows that because it’s one of your traditions. You two go every year and get hot chocolate and fresh pie, then head to the corn maze for your annual competition. As always, you get a head start and he pretends to get lost so you have to find a way out together, and he’ll try—and fail—to fool around with you. Your excuse? “There are families here!”
As if you hadn’t begged him to fuck you in the closet when you were visiting his family for spring break. He had to gag you with your panties, you were so needy and pleading for him to fuck you harder, to fuck you stupid just doors away from his parents. 
You wanted to be caught that day, and right now he wished he let you walk out with his cum on your face. Perhaps then, you’d be filled with humiliation just like the four of them. 
He wanted you to think you got away with it, that you’re still the queen and they’re stupid pawns to your game. Just so he can watch the despair wash over your face, the broken pride will fall from your lips in half-assed apologies. 
You’ll cry and beg for forgiveness, for mercy, but they won’t give it to you. No, they want you to suffer, wallow in distraught—just as Odette did when Siegfried swore to love another. 
He watches you run off, your loud inebriated laughter flowing into the open air, joyous and free, the complete opposite of what you’ll be when the clock strikes midnight. 
Out of the corner of his eye, he sees three other hooded figures emerge from the forest. One by one, their stark white masks are bathed in the moonlight, screaming or crying or both. He sets your purse by the entrance after taking your cell phone, and only then does he enter the maze. 
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It isn’t long until he catches up to you, following the fallen feathers from your costume like breadcrumbs. 
You’re leaning against the haystack wall, flashing him a mischievous smile. Your hands drag down your body, teasingly pulling down the front of your dress to expose your cleavage. 
He steps towards you, craving the heat of your skin. He wants to know just how much the other guys ruined you, but you duck under his arm and race deeper into the maze, giggling madly. 
“Gotta be faster than that, daddy!”
The further you go, the darker it gets. Everything looks the same, all varying in shades of green but you try to not get distracted, sugary sweet victory is hot on your mind. You slow down and listen for heavy feet on the grass, but all you hear are crickets and the gentle wind. 
You scream when thick arms wrap around your waist, heaving you high into the air and pinning you against a haystack. Built arms hook under your thighs as his hips slip snugly between your thighs, brushing your overworked core. 
You laugh, “this is like the movie! What does she say?” You think for a moment, “No, please don’t kill me, Mr. Ghostface, I wanna be in the sequel!” You burst into laughter, playfully kicking your feet, “now the stain makes… uh… sense! It makes sense!” 
The shadows cloud over his masked face, making him look sadder or more scared. Horrified would fit the best, but your drunken head couldn’t find the word. 
“You’re so pretty when you beg.” 
All blood drains from your face and fills your heart, sinking it straight to hell and taking your carefree smile with it. 
“What? You don’t miss me?” His deep voice slices through the silence, “Oh, or do you miss someone else more?” From each turn enter three more figures, matching black robes clad over their shoulders with the hoods pulled down, accentuating their stark white disguises. 
He flips up his mask, making you nauseous in a single motion. “Happy Halloween, bunny.” His long hair frames his pale face and his eyes gleam with cruel amusement as a twisted grin plays on his pink lips. 
You open your mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. 
“Poor girl, did you lose your voice?” Number three. 
“That’s a shame, I love hearing you scream.” Number four.
The rest of the men remove their masks and your eyes drift over each of them. The sick glee drips off their faces and entwine with ferocious hunger. They surrounded you like predators to prey, the reapers to bring you to your inescapable fate—and they were ecstatic about it. 
Number two doesn’t look as happy as Curtis and Ransom, in fact, his expression was unreadable. He was quiet and cold, not only with his schooled features, but he didn’t speak like the rest of them. 
When Steve got quiet, he was terrifying because you didn’t know what to expect. You could only imagine the things going through his head, your sweet, loving, baker boyfriend had a dark side, one that you’ve only seen a handful of times if some guy hit on you. 
He always managed to leave the scene before things got too intense, but you feared this wasn’t one of those times. 
“N-No…”
“No? Did you miss me the most then?” Ari asks mockingly, blue eyes drawn low, “you loved me first, so you must love me the most too.”
You can’t feel the tears streaming down your numb cheeks but you know they’re there, and that’s only confirmed when Ari wipes one with his thumb, and sucks it into his mouth. Your salty misery is his favourite taste but it isn’t enough, all four of them want your ultimate destruction. 
“Cry all you want, bunny. Karma doesn’t give a shit if you’re sad or scared.” Oh but they wanted you to be petrified, “You reap what you sow—and for you, sweetheart, it’s time to bite the bullet.” 
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𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: did someone say a hate fucking gangbang? Bc that’s what’s going to happen. we're starting no nut November with nuts, but oops !! p.s. the date for the next part is on the fic masterlist.
𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞! check out the rest of my kinktober masterlist for my other spooky slutty fics !!
As always, I hope you all enjoyed this and I’d love to hear your thoughts/feedback !! <3 — ☼ 𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐊𝐨-𝐟𝐢 ☼
I don’t do taglists anymore. ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 & 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲: @𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲
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shotgunbunny · 1 year
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“But daddy I love him.” with crybaby! reader aka defending Ransom to your father and the soft kisses and sex afterwords and him saying how proud he is of you. Maybe he also makes you cry more bc he just loves your tears.
✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧
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WC:2k+ GIF by forchrisevans
I love love love this sm! I'm making this a dark ransom Au where he's a writer that's supa rich <3 A/n: I literally felt so bad for the dad in this fic why did I make the dad so sad man.
(Warnings!! Dark!Ransom!! Mentions of murder!! Smut!! Soft! Ransom!! tiny bit of angst!! Dirty talk!!)
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You were excited for tonight. You were finally introducing you boyfriend to you parents. You weren't nervous as Ransoms cocky ways and charming nature eased your fears. He always had a way with words, maybe that's why he became a writer. You had tried to read one of his book before he pried it from your hands and began talking about how you wouldn't like the book, and because you loved him you trusted him.
You were absolutely oblivious to the fact that every book he wrote was centred around you. He wrote story after story about how after follow the woman of his dreams he finally had her and now he had to kill anyone who stood in his way. Half of his fans loved the books and the other half was terrified of Ransom and researching that all his girlfriends guy friends had died.
You sighed and stretched your limbs out on the king sized bed at Ransoms house. You turned and laid on him, drawing lazy flower patterns onto his chest. He looked at you softly, soaking in the attention you were offering him. "Ran?" He let out a deep hum before he brought his hand up to card through your hair. "Are you nervous for tonight?" He looked down at you and flashed you his winning smile.
"Not one bit baby, everyone loves me. Luckily you're the only one that has my love in return." And if they didn't love him, he'd set up there death as a car accident and sweep you off your feet into his house. He was ready with so many options so he wasn't nervous or scared. Instead he was curious to see what your parents reaction would be.
"Come on flower we best get up and get ready." You shook your head and settled firmly on top of Ransom. He chuckled at you and sat up. You clung to his shoulders and wrapped your legs around his waist. He slid his strong arm under your ass and stood up looking down at you and kissing your nose softly. "Hmm I thought you were my flower but you're actually just my koala." You giggled and stretched your legs out. He placed you down gently, kissing you sweetly one last time.
Ransom headed towards his walk in wardrobe and pulled out the famous white cable knit sweater. He looked kinder in this, more homely. Soft as you'd say. You smiled at him and he smiled back at you. He pulled his pants on and you pulled on your little black dress that Ransom adored. It wasn't too short, it was just right. He stared at you doped up on his love for you before he attacked your face with kisses.
You felt so safe in Ransoms arms while he rained kisses all over you. And just like that all your potential worries disappeared into the night.
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Ransom pulled up into the large gravel drive way and flashed you a smirk. He was used to snobby driveways, after all he stemmed from a rich family. You both got out and Ransom tutted at you mumbling about how he wanted to open you door for you like a gentleman. You both closed your doors and Ransom hurried over to you, holding your hand as you began walking to the front door.
You pressed the door bell and it was immediately opened by your mother rather than one of the house cleaners. You smiled at her and you beamed at you, and the glanced at Ransom. "Come in both of you! Dinner has just finished being made!" She rushed off and you looked at Ransom. He looked down at you and pulled your hand which was interlocked with his, up to his face where he placed a tender kiss on your knuckles.
You both took your shoes and coats off and you led him to the dinning room. Your mum was hurrying around playing plates down all the while your father sat still until he moved his head and stared at Ransom. Beside your dad was one of Ransoms book. You were so happy your dad had read some of Ransoms works, surely he'd like him.
Whilst in Ransoms mind he knew he was completely and utterly fucked. The look in your fathers eyes and the glimpse of the folded pages in the book proved that he knew that Ransom was not everything he seemed. Ransom could feel his heart hurt a small bit, he knew that when the 'accident' happens you're gonna weep your little heart out and it will be all because of him. And for a split second, Ransom wished that there was another way instead of that but there wasn't. So he swallowed down the heart ache he'll suffer and sat down at the table.
Your father stared at him while your mother and you chirped happily about you day. You began digging into you meal as did you mum, both of you still nattering oblivious to the staring match between your dad and Ransom. He flashed him a gentle smile, a peace treaty almost, and began digging into the meal. "This is absolutely amazing Ma'am." Your mum blushed and thanked him.
As you were all dining your dad finally spoke, still staring at the sick bastard in front of him. "Hey honey, have you ever read any of Ransoms works?" You looked up and blinked noting the angry look burried in his eyes. "No, they're not my kinda thing." You turned to look at Ransom and flashed him a smile which he returned.
"Well you should honey. There's this one character in here that's exactly like your old friend. And he died the exact same way as he did." You dropped you fork and stared at your dad. Shocked that he would ever bring that up let alone try and claim Ransom had something to do with it. "Why would you say that?" Your dad turned his harsh glare towards you.
"I know you're not the brightest honey, but he's a goddamn sociopath! He's insane! I don't want you seeing him anymore!" You stood up shocked by your dad's behaviour, Ransom stood up too and left the room, he began getting his shoes and coat on when he heard your cries. He peaked around the corner and saw tears streaming down your face. "But daddy I love him! He would never hurt me! And he knows that if he hurt anyone I loved, it would hurt me! So how can you even suggest that!"
Ransom felt his heart hurt, he remembered holding you everynight while you were grieving your friends. God knows how much it would hurt when you had to grieve your parents. God he would do anything to avoid that outcome. "How stupid are you?! He's a murderer! He killed your friends claiming it was a sick and twisted version of love!"
You swallowed down a sob and bit back at him for these insane accusations. "I never want to see you again! You won't get an invite to our wedding or meet your first grandchild! Not until you apologize to the man I love!" You dad scoffed, tears in his eyes yet he was holding back. You mother was openly weeping. The pause lasted too long cementing your choice in choosing Ransom. You walked out and bumped into him. He hugged you and you got ready and left.
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The second you were in the bedroom, Ransom was kissing you, softly sweetly. Every part of him was gently. Even as you began undressing each other, he treated you delicately. Not wanting to illicit tears, not yet. Because they'd be sad tears, not tears of ecstacy.
He kissed along your legs, allowing his hands to gently trail up your thighs before they splayed out on your hips. He moved his head up, and blowed along your wetness. Adoring the little flutter of your hips and the breathy moan that escaped your pretty mouth. He licked gently, slowly. Torturing you yet he was appreciating your taste, trying to put it into words. He went back for a second taste before he centred on your clit, he moved his hands then. Dragging one down towards your hole with a feather light tight before he plunged one finger in and then another. His other hand trailed up taking a breast in his hand.
He looked up and saw the beauty that was you, your head tilted back while moans escaped you like a desperate song. He flicked your nipple before he began gently circling it with his thick digit. While you were preoccupied with the stimulation of your nipple, Ransom plunged another finger into you before he pulled away completely.
He felt the need to be even more submerged in this moment of pleasure with you. He leaned down and captured your lips in his. Holding you close towards his body. You felt him move his tip up and down your slit, you could feel his precum mix with your own wetness. He stopped and places his cock against your hole. He stared down at you as if you were the world itself. "I love you so much." And with that he applied pressure and his cock slipped in with a pop. He slowly pushed down until he was fully settled in you.
You caught your breath after Ransom knocked it out of you by entering you. You stared at him and pressed you lips together, completely enthralled by him. By his declaration of love. He slowly began thrusting and pulled away, allowing for your shallow breathing to sink. "My angel, you did so good for me. Defended my name. Defended me. God you are worth every ounce of my love and more. Fucking perfect tight pussy. Was made for me by the Gods." You felt tears gather in your eyes at his words. He began thrusting faster.
His slid his hand down and began to circle your clit, watching with pride blooming in his chest as your tears slide down your face. You were embracing the ultimate pleasure of his cock and the result was something so beautiful that he couldn't even fathom how you weren't worshipped. He leaned down and licked your tears before pressing his forehead to yours and watching more tears stream down your face.
"Fuck you're so good to me baby, so fucking good. This pussy treats me so well too. Fucking grips my cock so well. Would worship this cunt, would worship you. So good baby."
He couldn't help it he took his hand away from your button and instead wrapped it around you throat, fucking you with vigor over the sight before him. Tears streaming down your face, his hand tight around your throat and your breasts bouncing. "Fuck! My little crybaby, you look perfect like this. Need this in a picture. Fucking beautiful. You deserve to be fucked like this baby." He leaned down and licked the tears off your face all the while holding your throat tighter making your face slowly bloom red over the lack of air flow. "Fuck it looks like you're crying diamonds. I'll get you a diamond, get you one for your dainty finger." He leaned down and placed a soft kiss on your lips.
Before he pulled away and squeezed tight on your throat and began pounding you so fast that it took only 5 thrusts before you convulsed on his cock and bucked you body up desperate to be free from his hands yet also enraptured in your orgasm. Ransom came seconds after. The tightness of your cunt and the beauty of you was enough to push him past his limit. His hips stuttered and he came, some of it inside you before he pulled out and coated you in it. He pulled his hand off your throat, embracing truly how amazing you were.
You laid catching your breath just barely recognising Ransom getting you water and a towel to clean you up. After that was all done he got in bed and you cuddled with him. Your head on his chest while his arm held you protectively. "You did so good for me baby, I'm so proud of you." You batted your eyelashes at him, utterly soft for his praise. "I did?" He smiled and kissed your forehead. "Absolutely my love, I'm so happy baby because of you. I'm gonna put a ring on you, that's how proud I am of you." You giggled and cuddled closer into him. "We'll see bear." And with that you fell into a peaceful sleep.
Ransom grabbed his phone and cancellation off the plan of the 'accident'. Instead he would wait for your dad to crack under the pressure. Especially when everyone else in the family got a wedding invite except him. Ransom was happy truly, there would be no more blood on his hands and now he could focus purely on you.
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654 notes · View notes
bibislutmarvel · 10 months
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I made gifs, you're welcome 😘
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urmommies--girl · 2 years
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Spot me - Dark!Gym!Ari Levinson x Reader
A//N: Do I know how a gym works? No. Did I google it? Yes. Where my search results effective? Absolutely not.
Warnings: Stranger sex? (Kind of, reader and Ari only just met when they get groovy), little!reader, mention of age regression, daddy kink, manhandling, degradation, mean!Ari, READER BLUSHES SO MUCH AND IT IS FUCKING ANNOYING (but like its Ari Evans who wouldn’t blush), non-con/CNC and dub-con, dumbification, manipulation, pain kink, blood kink, VERY ROUGH SEX, size kink, somnophillia kink, Pervy!Ari, implication to stalking, misogyny
Word Count: 3.2k
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Dark!content under Ari <3
‘Screw getting your life together. Screw drinking water every day. Screw getting off your ass and screw going to the fucking gym!’ You cursed to yourself as you pushed the doors to your local gym open, unintentionally scowling at woman who was leaving.
You walked to the front desk and plastered a fake smile at the clerk standing behind the counter, “Could I have locker, please?” You asked, she looked up and raised an eyebrow, “Do you have a membership?” She asked, you looked around the desk cluttered with flyers and business cards, “Nope.” You popped the ‘P’, “$10 per hour with additional to use the showers.” She told, you nodded, “Great. Can I pay at the end?” You questioned, “Yeah sure, just take a key. One sec.” She tapped an earpiece and her demeanour immediately changed into an overly enthusiastic one while she walked away.
Your eyes rolled in annoyance, not at the clerk but just at the whole ordeal, ‘what were you thinking?! You didn’t know how to work out!’ You internally stomped your feet like a child having a temper tantrum, you grabbed a key and begrudgingly made your way to the locker room.
You almost got lost by going past the locker room but was redirected by a sign that said ‘Office of Mr Levinson’.
After packing away your bags and only keeping your, headphones, phone and water bottle out, you ventured out to where you could hear music playing a people grunting.
The sight of a mat class met you first and you quickly rushed past. Next there was a pilates studio; that would be a no. Finally you came across a large room with several people working out on their own, ‘at least this one wasn’t a class’ you sighed and pushed the door open.
Choosing you first exercise carefully, you decided a treadmill would be easy, ‘It’s just running! That can’t possibly be too hard!’ Boy were you wrong. After only 10 minutes on the treadmill you felt like you were dying, pressing multiple wrong buttons just to get it to turn off.
You hopped off and grabbed your water quicker than ever, God, you’d never been so grateful for water in your life.
“Oh sweet saints. I will never say another bad thing about you again.” You panted, laying back on the carpeted floor, you knew you looked like a fucking weirdo but you were in agony.
Recollecting yourself, you made your way over to a weight lifting machine, you cocked your head to the sighed in confusion before leaning down to try and pick it up but before you could even get it off the ground you heard a loud thud a few feet away and looked up to see a burly man jogging towards you.
He placed his arm on your lower back and quickly took the weight away from you, “You’re gonna hurt yourself really bad if you do that.” He warned with a laugh, you looked up and were met with an incredibly handsome face, you blushed.
“Oh…I- um- I didn’t know.” You mumbled, he laughed again, “Clearly.” HIs joke made your lips quirk into a shy smile, the man gestured to the dumbbell, “you want me to show you?” He offered, “Could you? It’s my first time at a gym or anything and I don’t really know how all these fancy things work.” You sighed, taking a step back so he could alter the weight.
You looked down as he removed several weights from the ends, “You would’ve broken you back if you tried to lift these!” He teased, you giggled and rubbed the back of your neck sheepishly.
After fixing the settings, the man stood up again and you took a step forward, “So, instead of holding them from the top, try grip them from underneath. It might make it a bit easier for you.” He explained, you curled your hands around the metal bar, “Like this?”, he nodded and removed his cap before standing behind you.
You almost gasped when you felt his hands on you hips, “There you go…and just kick your legs apart a bit- hey! You got it!” He positioned you just right and grinned when you did what he asked, “Now you try lift it.” He told, you tried to pull put instead squeaked as the weight toppled you forward.
Closing your eyes for impact you were grabbed by the wrist and pulled back to standing.
“So 50kg might be too much for you.” The blue eyed man thought, your eyes widened, “that was 50kg?! I was so close! Wow I must be like Hercules or something!” You exclaimed, patting yourself on the back, your new found friend laughed and so did you.
Once he stood back up to his full height, you moved once again towards the weight, “So how much is this?” You asked skeptically as you positioned yourself in the way he did for you before.
“I changed it to 20kg so just try that.” He told, you bit your lip and lifted it, a gasp escaping your lips when you got it up to about thigh height, the man stood behind you and reached his muscular arms around to help you lift it further.
With his help you could hardly feel the weight but still, it was an accomplishment.
You both placed the weight down and you clapped your hands, “Thank you so much, Mr…” You fished and he smiled, “Ari. Call me Ari.” He finished, you grinned brightly, “Thank you, Mr Ari.” You teased, bowing your head slightly, causing him to return your grin as he put his hat back on, “Not a problem, doll.” He winked, beginning to walk away, “My names Y/n!” You called after him.
If only you could see his little fist pump in the air.
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You were so fucking done. You just wanted a cold beverage and a long fucking nap, you decided as you exited the washroom, bag slung lazily over your shoulder and hair in an absolute mess.
As you finished paying the clerk, a familiar blue eyed man walked past you.
“Ari! Hey! Wait up!” You called, jogging after him much to your bodies dismay, he turned around and smiled, “Y/n! Hey, peach. How was the rest of your workout?” He asked, you blushed at the pet name, “Honestly I don’t get how people can do that everyday.” You threw your head back with a whine, Ari laughed, “You just gotta get used to it and y’know it’s really not that bad. You just gotta have the right motivation.” 
He leant down to your ear at the last word and pointed to an ice cream parlour directly across from the gym, “Now that is genius business.” You commented, practically drooling at the idea of cold ice cream on a hot day.
There seemed to be a silent agreement between you and Ari as you both made your way across the street. Ari pushed the door open for you and you both stepped into the cool air conditioned parlour.
“Really, Ari? Another girl? Gotta be kidding me, man. How do you always get the hot chicks?” The cashier complained, ‘he must be a regular’ you thought, “Ha ha. Very funny, Sam. Now do your job.” He rolled his eyes, Sam laughed, “Just the usual right?” He guessed only to get a nod in return.
You couldn’t seem to decide…
“You should get the strawberry and cream.” Ari whispered in your ear, making you jump at the close proximity, you nodded quickly, eyes scanning for the one he was talking about. On finding it you pointed at the cashier, “This one, please.” You gulped slightly, not liking social interactions.
After both getting your ice creams you went to reach for your wallet but Ari was going first, Sam threw his hands up, “So now you pay? Guess there’s a first time for everything!” He huffed, Ari nudged him, “Come on, man. Not in front of the girl.” He teased, looking down at you playfully.
The door was opened for you by Ari and you ducked your head again in thanks.
“Your nice.” You blurted, he looked down at you, licking his ice cream already, “Yeah? What makes you say that, sweets?” He hummed, you shrugged, “You help me out. You pay for my ice cream. That’s nice.” You told, ‘God he felt terrible for what he was gonna do to you….not.’
When you didn’t get a response and only a continuous stare, you looked up and smiled as you finally began to eat your ice cream.
—————————♡—————————
The two of you had been so caught up that you hadn’t even noticed how far you’d walked until the familiar street where your apartment lay.
“My apartments just in here if you’d like to come in. It might not be too clean but it’s a shield from the sun.” You suggested, “You know people usually don’t follow strange little girls into their apartments but what’s a sweet thing like you gonna do?” He mused, unbeknownst to him you were blushing madly.
—————————♡—————————
You fumbled with your keys before unlocking the door and stepping inside, “It’s not anything fancy but it’s the best I’ve got.” You mumbled, letting him inside.
His eyes wondered around the colourful apartment as he dropped his gym bag to the ground, “It’s cozy.” He told, plopping down on one of your plush sofas, “You think?” You blushed hopefully, pressing your hands together, Ari smiled and nodded, “S’cute. Jus’ like you, button.” He winked.
You covered your face with your hands and turned away from the tall man.
“Do you want anything to eat or drink?” You asked, trying to distract yourself with a domestic task, “I’ll have a coffee, thanks, peach.” He replied, now taking his shoes off and setting them by the door.
You had tried to stop drinking coffee a while ago since you’d decided you wanted to get your shit together, so you’d asked one of your taller friends to put it in a top cupboard…one you couldn’t reach.
Chewing your lip, you tried to stand on your tiptoes to reach it and managed to only skim the shelf with your fingers.
Suddenly, you felt a grip on your waist and looked up to see Ari, he reached the coffee down and placed it on the counter, “Oh- thank you.” You blushed again, turning to face him, ‘fuck he was tall’ you gulped, realising your weren’t even shoulder height with him.
He smirked, “Where’s the bathroom?” He asked, you cleared your throat and tried to step back, only to run into the bench, ‘god you were such a klutz’ you winced, “Through there.” You pointed to a small door just off the main hall, he smiled, “Thanks, doll.”
As you were banging your head on the kitchen counter, you heard Ari call out, “Hey peach? What’s with all the stuffed animals?”, your eyes widened and you quickly ran to your bedroom, “No! Um- Nothing! Here let’s go, your coffee should be done any second!” You tried to drag him but his large frame didn’t even budge.
He pushed past you and moved to the bed, seeing that everything was either pink, with animals or both.
You blushed, ‘I think I’ll just die now.’ You thought, wanting nothing more than to wake up from this horrible dream, a sexy godlike man had walked into your life and was now snooping in your most private space.
“Has it got a name?” Ari’s voice snapped you out of your daze and you saw him holding one of your penguin stuffies, “That’s um…his name is…” You couldn’t seem to get it out, too embarrassed with the truth.
Ari tugged your hips and only now you were almost level with him, ‘how fucking tall is this man?!’ “I asked you a question, angel. It’s polite to answer.” His voice was cool and commanding.
“That’s Mr Waddles but he’s not my favourite.” You finally said, he hummed and placed the penguin down again, “Which one is your favourite?” He asked and all embarrassment flew out the window, replaced my giddiness and excitement.
‘Ari wasn’t judging you! He was just interested!’ You thought happily as you skipped to the other side of the bed.
You picked up your favourite white bunny with a pink bow, “This is Mrs Snuggles. She’s my favourite because we can play dress up.” You explained, handing it to him, “be careful.” You added.
He examined the stuffed toy, “Mrs Snuggles is very lovely, button, but how bout’ you show me your dress up costume?” He asked, you blushed and shook your head, “Can’t show you that one.” You told, Ari raised an eyebrow,, “Why’s that, angel?”, “Cause that would be bad. Not meant for guys to see.” You muttered.
Ari picked up your rabbit toy and moved it animatedly, “So Mrs Snuggles gets to see but I don’t? That’s not very fair.” He faux pouted, “Well Mrs Snuggles is a girl!” You explained with a giggle.
He gave you puppy dog eyes and you sighed, “You gotta sign the pact of secrecy.” You crossed your arms defiantly, he sat up against your headboard as you went to reach for Mrs Snuggles, he shot forward and planted his lips to yours.
You tried to step away but he pushed you back on the bed, hovering over you, “Ari- no… What are you doing?” You breathed, trying to push him away, “You think any guy wants to hear a slut talk? Here’s a lesson for you, sweetheart. The only good thing about you is your holes. And if you ever forget that- well, you won’t, because I’ll be here to remind you.” 
His harsh words made tears form in your eyes as he began to tear your gym clothes off, somehow ripping the lycra in half/
“Dumb baby. Didn’t your parents ever tell you not to let strangers into your home?” He mocked, finally reaching the layer only covered by a bra and panties, you squirmed and shook your head as you sobbed, Ari tutted, “Thought you were nice.” You sniffed as he brushed your hair back, “You thought wrong, button.”
After losing so much energy in fighting Ari while he stripped you of your clothes, ‘I should just give in… It would be much easier, letting him use me until he’s satisfied, then he’d let me go…right?’ You thought.
Ari noticed you stopped fighting and smirked proudly, “What a good little slut. Knowing her place.” He mused, “Just please…be gentle.” You begged softly, h kissed your forehead sweetly, “No.” his fingers entered you with such force that it hurt.
You’d had sex before, but not like this. The first time was awkward but your parents always told you that sex should feel good…this didn’t.
Screaming bloody murder, Ari sighed and grabbed your rabbit stuffie and shoved part of it in your mouth as a gag, “You know, baby, if you’re quiet then maybe I’ll make it feel good for you.” He nodded along slowly, pouting cruelly in the process,.
A sob bubbled out from behind the rabbit as you nodded slowly, “Gonna be quiet? Let me use you like my own dolly?” Ari asked, slowly easing up the rabbit and placing it to the side comfortably when you didn’t scream, “P-please…hurts, Ari. Hurts so bad…” you whimpered, “S’gonna hurt a lot more when I put my dick in you so you’re lucky I’m even giving you prep.” He hissed.
Your hands squeezed the soft pink sheets, “What do you say, baby?” He pressed, you closed your eyes tighter, “Thank you, Ari.” You whimpered, he entered another finger into you and continued to prod places you knew they shouldn’t.
His other hand comes down between you both as he moves to kneel before you, thinking you’d be able to escape you quickly shoot up but before you can even stand Ari has you back underneath him and you’re hitting his chest with your fists.
“Get off me! Please!” You cried hoarsely, tears now flowing freely, he scoffs and begins to undo his belt, “Was gonna be nice and treat you good but after that you’re lucky I don’t fuck your ass.” He spits, tying your wrists with leather.
Now having easier access to his own pants, Ari slips them down his big thighs along with his boxers.
He removes his shirt before climbing over you, he slaps his dick on your face in a degrading way, “You thought my fingers hurt, poppet? My dick is bigger than your whole head. You’re gonna be sore for weeks.” He threatened, you whined and tried to move your hips.
Ari moved back down your body and positioned himself at your entrance, ‘god he was gonna split you in half…’ was your last conscious thought before he rutted into you.
“S-s’too big…gotta…you-“ Words incoherently fell from your lips, “See, honey? This is how girls like you are meant to be. Dick drunk and babbling.” He smirked.
‘Ok so. Maybe it wasn’t that bad’
“Daddy- hhhgn- fuck.” You didn’t mean to let the words slip but the he was so fucking big and it hurt so fucking much, “Daddy, huh? Tell me who your daddy is, little girl. Scream for you daddy.” Ari taunted, now snapping his hips brutally against your own, his pubic hair chafing the skin around your thighs.
“H-hurts, daddy…” Your voice softened as your head felt light, Ari kisses your tears away, rubbing his beard hairs over your cheek in the process, “I know, baby. But you looks so pretty bleeding for me.” He moves a hand between you two and picks up some of you blood of your clit, making you shiver and convulse slightly, he scoops it up and begins to paint it on your tits, “so fuckin’ pretty…”
His voice trails off as the world goes dark.
—————————♡—————————
You wake to a warming sensation in your abdomen as well as an excruciating level of pain, you go to cry out but are muffled by blonde hair covering your senses.
Tuning back into the real world you hear panting near you ear, “Ari…” You mumbled, lids still heavy, he doesn’t even look at you as he sits up, pulling his cock from you along with what felt like half your organs.
As soon as his shaft left your body, you curled up and hugged yourself, feeling hurt and violated, “Taste that, honey.” His hand moves between your legs again and he swipes more of your blood mixed with yours and his come.
Gave me so many good orgasms while you were asleep. Such a good cunt.” He whispers, pushing his fingers past your lips as you taste the vile mixture, “Thank you, daddy.” You garble as the tears cloud your vision.
A proud smile overcomes Ari and he kisses your cheek, “I’ll see you again at the gym, ok, honey? My office is just behind the womens locker room.” He winks, gathering his clothes and leaving the room.
‘Did he own the fucking gym?’
*Mario theme* WELL FUCKERS THAT ESCALATED QUICKLY. I kinda wanna do a series out of this like @balenciagabucky did with midnight train because it’s like my favourite fic series ever.
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imaginedreamwrite · 1 year
Text
Brat Taming: Part 13
A/N: Smut is prevalent in the chapter, with overstimulation, vibrators, teasing and edging, domination/submission and punishments. Please don’t read it if it makes you uncomfortable
Ari had certain expectations when it came to making his office run seamlessly, as he should have, and there was an incredible amount of tenacity to his patience. He was not a man who could easily be angered by desperate attempts to get him to react unless there was a direct threat to the people he loved and wanted to protect.
It was one of his traits as an alpha that separated him from what seemed like the other 50% of alphas who seemed to make up the designation.
It seemed as if at least half of their designation had the same distinctive abilities to be good alphas without having to rely on traits that could have been deemed toxic. Ari and Steve, even Ransom if he had tried to put in more effort to not be such an arrogant prick to other people, were all good alphas at the root of themselves.
Both of the older alphas had deeply embedded protective tendencies, an ability to understand and compassionately grasp the workings of an omega’s hindbrain without reducing them to their basest selves.
Ransom was cocky, he was an arrogant and rich alpha who could have had anything or anyone handed to him on a silver platter. He was born with a silver spoon shoved up his ass and that had damaged his ability to deny the toxic traits that made omegas want to settle down with the alpha.
However like Ari & Steve believed, Ransom only had to meet the right omegas who wouldn’t immediately cater and submit to his whims, but rather they would try to push him to his limits and make him back down. It was what made you and Jake everything those alphas needed.
It was your fire and your ability and nature to be bratty that drove every one of your alphas crazy with need. Your tendency as omegas to feel comfortable enough to push back against the alphas was both embraced and revelled in.
They enjoyed their omegas brattiness, the back and forth that aided the bonds that were being built was a necessity to have an unbreakable relationship.
However patient Ari was, and however indifferent he could have been, he had found your punishment just as invigorating and addictive as your attitude was.
He was just waiting for it, just waiting for the opportunity to punish you as a good alpha would have. The alphas knew, all of them had been aware, that you and Jake were dealing with the sensations of being marked and mated.
They had been well aware that you both were settling in your bratty moods and with a common agreement between you, albeit made through your natural bond as best friends and lovers and had kickstarted the punishments that were befitting for both of you.
With you at work in the office making comments under your breath about Ari and his first assistant degrading the choice to have someone who was so aggravating without trying, had incited his decision to punish you.
Normally this patient alpha would have let you mumble every comment under the sun about his first assistant who he knew could be difficult to deal with, however today Ari couldn’t let it slide.
Whether it was his unwillingness to go through a teleconference knowing you were outside of his office wearing a skirt that was far too easy to slide up your thighs and a piece of cloth obscuring your sweet little cunt from his view, or whether it was his vivacious lust and hunger, it had all ended at the same conclusion.
Ari had stepped out of his office, pausing to listen to you muttering your annoyance at both your boss and the woman you claimed was the wicked bitch of the West.
He had watched you while leaning against the frame of his door, his arms crossed over his chest and his chin tucked as his eyes had become engrossed with thick seams of desire. It was reflective of his need for you, his dire hunger that aided him to make a demand that caused hair at the nape of your neck to stand and your eyes to grow wide.
“Y/N, my office. Now.” The command was sent from his mouth, and you were immediately aware of how rooted he was in his alpha hindbrain.
He had seen your lips part with a potential argument, a rebuttal that he wished you would’ve let fall from your lips. He wished you would have fired back with some kind of aggravated response to Ari’s demand, earning another punishment that you didn’t know was coming.
It could’ve been a demand that could have been negated, or at least an attempt could have been made, however, Ari was pleased to see you standing immediately to follow him toward his office.
“Is there anything you need of me, Mr. Levinson?” His first assistant had already started to rise to her feet, overeager to please him in any manner despite already being in a steady and comfortable relationship with her alpha.
It was after Ari had settled a hand on your back to lead you into his office, to the punishment waiting for you, that he had looked over his shoulder with a controlled half-smirk on his face.
His first assistant was not guarded with her disdain for you and your role in the office, especially since you had been sleeping with the boss and getting away with it. However, Ari was just as displeased about her attitude toward you and had already been making plans to have another reasonable offer sent her way for a new job.
“Go home, you have the rest of the afternoon off.” Ari had closed the door without allowing another potential argument and just as quickly locked the door behind him.
He stood and faced you, silence between the two of you was not stale or stagnant, it was fuelled by desire and mild confusion, knowledge of what was to come and expectations of pleasure and pain.
“I have a meeting, Y/N.” Ari’s long stride had taken him past you and around the side of the desk, his leather chair angled to the left of his computer.
“If you needed me to take notes-“
“Did I ask you to take notes?” Ari spoke over you with a bite, the force behind his words making you shudder and whimper simultaneously. “You’re going to keep me occupied.”
Ari placed a hand upon the back of the chair, steadying it as he sat down upon the cushioned bottom and then he spread his legs. His cock was strained and throbbing beneath the seams of his slacks and with a single wave of his hand, you had started to walk toward him with your hands by your sides and your eyes still unnerved.
When you were within reach, Ari grabbed your wrist and pulled you toward him and his hard-on, your palm jutted toward the bulbous head. Ari’s voice was laced heavily with need, your name falling from his lips as he made you squeeze his erection.
The intent was known and the command had been all too easily absorbed as you recoiled and lifted your skirt, your hands holding the material in order for him to hook his fingers in the band of your panties to yank them down your thighs.
“This is a punishment,” Ari addressed you with a firm tone yet no less loving than before, “you wanna be a brat? You get punished.”
He enjoyed your verbal exhilaration when he smacked your ass, his palm cracking against your flesh before his fingers dug into you. He had pulled you back toward him, keeping a hand on your ass and the other busied with freeing his thick and throbbing cock.
“You’re going to keep my cock warm while I take this teleconference. If your try and get off my cock before the meeting is finished, you’ll be under the desk sucking me off. If you cum before I say you can, you won’t cum for a week.” Ari’s hands settled on your hips and he arranged you between his legs, giving you no room to protest as he lowered you to his cock, your puffy pussy lips already wet.
The head of his cock had started to part your labia, the seeping precum mixing with your desire, and his name all too easily fell from your lips when he made you take all of him into your tight cunt. When he had settled you in your place, Ari leaned forward and pressed a kiss against the nape of your neck, almost entirely too soft and contradictory to his demanding dominance.
“You have your warning, brat.” Ari’s lips parted and he nipped your flesh as a warning. “I would love any reasons to punish you further, let’s see if you earn the right to cum or if you’ll end up with a week of denial.”
It was hard to breathe without shuddering, hard to contend with the twitch of Ari’s thick bulbous head as it plunged into your cunt.
It was hard to function and focus on taking notes while Ari was on a teleconference since you were being stretched and filled to the brim, wholly and entirely stuffed. He was ruthless, smacking your puffy and hard clit when you faltered, all entirely fuelled by his irritation with your attitude.
“Maybe next time you’ll think about being such a brat. I’m your alpha sweetheart but I’m also your boss.”
“Are you focusing?” You shuddered and whimpered, his voice husky and hoarse in your ear while his fingers deftly plucked at your hard little nub. “I almost feel sorry for you…but I know you like it.”
“J-Jake-” your voice shook, indelibly able to detect his state of being like a dull fog at the back of your mind.
“Yes, Jake is learning a hard lesson too.” Ari purred huskily in your ear and then taunt you further, starting to tap his fingers against your hard clit with every illicit breath you’d taken.
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“We’re planning on taking full advantage of our private dining room, puppy. And you are going to take your punishment with pride.”
Wine, he thought as he swallowed what was given to him, wine should’ve made him feel better and yet it was another delectable sensation intent on ruining him. A good wine that Ransom assured would be palatable with the edging Jake deserved, and he was right.
He had been overstimulated already, entirely too full and stretched with a vibrator in his tight asshole and a ring pulsing at the base of his cock, Jake was being dragged through countless rounds of edging that had only been part of his punishment.
The argument that started it all had come from Jake and focused more on Steve than Ransom. It was a few remarks about Steve’s sexuality and the urge to just jump from the edge of the cliff. Jake had pressed Steve to be bolder with himself, given that there wasn’t anything to fear about being open with how and who he loved.
And though the comments had meant to encourage Steve, it had taken a turn when Steve had embraced Jake’s open brattiness and reassured him that being bold was nothing new to Jake.
“Full, puppy?” Jake’s shiver was inductive of his tension, his cock begging for release that wasn’t granted to him by Steve or Ransom. “I think you’re enjoying yourself.”
It was pleasured and painful torture that left no bruises or marks. It was the sensation of the dildo in his ass vibrating when Steve turned it on and the fallout after it was turned off to give him a chance to calm down. Between the remote in Steve’s control, the remote in Ransom’s control and what he could detect from you, Jake was truly going to lose his mind.
“He can handle it, he’s a big boy.” Steve was almost erotically sadistic when he leaned toward Jake to cup his cheek and turn his head. “You can handle it, right Jake?”
His lips met Steve’s and he tried to chase the feeling, only to fall short and whine in desperation when Steve pulled away.
The super soldier had let go of Jake’s chin and patted his cheek twice, and then he leaned back against his chair and raised a hand to signal the waiter. With striking confidence that made Jake believes he had been playing the entire time, Steve had brazenly raised the remote in his other hand and pressed the button twice.
The shock of the faux cock in his ass had earned another husky groan that fell too easily from Jake’s lips, and the sudden jerk of his hips to seek some kind of pleasurable release from the toys that he was being teased with.
“If you cum, you’re going to pay for it.” Ransom’s warning was whispered as a seductive command in his ear, the deterrent coming with another level of erotic intimacy as the alpha command had settled in his hindbrain.
Thick fingers slipped beneath the table, a hand sliding up a covered thigh while he was truly and well on his way to losing his mind. Trapped under electrifying gazes that burned through him, it wasn’t just one but two that had given him no reprieve from the building tension and cathartic need to reach his end. This was a punishment for his decision to push both of them to their limits, though it wasn’t conventional in any sense.
When Jake had been under the impression that he was going to be punished, he’d thought it would involve Shibari or some restraints to keep him still. He’d never anticipated his ass being stuffed full of a vibrating cock while his shaft and balls were being stimulated by the same torturous quivers.
It was clear that Jake and yourself were being manhandled by your alphas to be punished, he could feel your pleasured pain through the bonds that you and Jake had formed from childhood, and he knew that he wasn’t alone.
“You’ve barely touched your food.” Teasing words that rolled off a silver tongue paired with fingers that slipped further up his thigh before ultimately squeezing the thick throbbing hard-on trapped beneath Italian slacks. “You should eat something.”
“Something wrong, pup?” Steve crooned, raising his fork to his lips to enjoy the seared steak he had been craving. “Not hungry?”
“Ohhh fuck…” Jake’s head lolled back, his eyes screwing closed as vibrations coursed in his ass, the vibrator used to drive him toward a slow orgasm was maddening. “P-please-!”
“I think we need dessert,” Ransom leaned in close to Jake, his tongue lapping at sweat-laden flesh while his hand closed around Jake’s clothed cock. “You’re going to have to wait longer to cum, brat.”
“I’m going to lose my fucking mind.” Jake hissed, his eyes straining to open and his teeth gritting as he cursed with the tension that was rattling him. “Please, fuck-!”
He jerked his hips and dug his nails into the tablecloth with almost enough tension to tear the fabric clean. Jake had ground his teeth with every pulse that rocked his nervous system and drove his mind closer to temporary insanity.
There was no denying their domineering status as alphas, and Jake would later swear on his life that he loved being their little subby omega but at the moment he was fighting for his life.
“If you want to cum,” Ransom let go of his trapped erection and deftly unzipped Jake’s fly, his hand slipping in the opening to grasp his cock under the table, “you have to beg for it.”
The sound that fell from Jake’s lips was garbled and twisted, it wasn’t coherent in any manner but yet it still made his alphas starkly proud of the omega who had resisted until this moment.
He hadn’t been mentally aware of what he was saying, he was letting his tongue work on its own and had only recognized the permission that was given to him after Ransom had dug his teeth back into the mark on Jake’s neck.
The vibrations hadn’t ceased even as Jake had been granted the ability to chase his orgasm. His hips rocked as he threw himself back into the chair, his head lolling as their names rolled off his tongue as an erotic sonnet. It was blinding and white hot pleasure that shot through every nerve ending in his body, Jake’s mind contorted and twisted by desire and release while Ransom’s hand pumped Jake’s shaft.
And even as he started to come down from that high, pleasure was still falling upon him when he felt Ransom’s lips against Jake’s cock to clean his shaft and bulbous head.
“Thank you,” Jake’s chest was heaving with every strained breath, his body wracked with leftover trace amounts of electrifying pleasure, “that was incredible.”
His chin was grasped again, his face turned toward Steve and relief had soon been replaced by anticipation when the super soldier claimed Jake’s mouth as his.
“You’re not done yet.”
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abbatoirablaze · 10 months
Text
Welcome To The Dollhouse, Lloyd's Angel
Word Count: 1.8k
Warnings:  mentions of edging, implied multiple partners, daddy kink, implied mfm, mentions of cannibalism.
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“Welcome to the doll house, sunshine!” Lloyd grinned widely.  He held his arms open as though it was some sort of grand gesture to his spoiled protege.  A few of the women giggled as they walked by, being sure to look over their shoulder at Lloyd. 
The man in his late thirties had a glimmer in his eye as he showed his newest partner the benefits of being an independent contractor on the dark side of the world for some of the most nefarious men. 
“What the hell is this?” Ransom asked curiously as he stepped forward.  Lloyd clapped the New England man on the shoulder and squeezed it excitedly.
“This is the best pussy in the world is what it is,” he chuckled, “and they’re only available to us, you hear?  So don’t go inviting your little party-boy friends to this place…you have to be a member.”
“You mean…”
“We’re active contractors, Drysdale…active and high-class,” Lloyd smirked as he looked around the room for someone in particular, “we aren’t your average hit men…”
“No shit…”
“Lemme show you around,” he chuckled, leading the slightly younger man further into first main room past the entryway, “see if you find anything that makes you wanna get your dick wet.  At least until I find my girl…then you’re on your own.”
“Your girl?” Ransom scoffed, “calling a high-class whore ‘your girl,’ is a bit pa-“
Before Ransom could finish his sentence, Lloyd turned, and slammed him up against the wall and held him by his neck.  His eyes were wild as he glared at his protégé.  Ransom could feel the weak plasterboard wanting to give behind his back, “don’t you go talking about my sweet little thing…I may be showing you the ropes, but I’ll hang you from one if you eve-“
“Daddy…”
Lloyd froze, hearing the scared voice of his Angel. 
“Son of a bitch,” he growled, more to himself as he pushed himself away from Ransom.  Lloyd took a moment for himself, smoothing out his shirt and taking a deep breath, and Ransom noted how the darkness seemed to fade away from him all at once before he turned towards the voice, “Angel…sweetheart…what are you doing out of your room?  You’re supposed to be studying!”
“I got excited,” she admitted as she bit her lip.  Ransom smoothed out his clothes and stepped forward until he was nearly beside Hansen.  The man who was only a few years older than him shot him a glare out of his peripherals, causing him to stop short.  But he could see the woman well enough.  She had to be in her late twenties and was wearing a schoolgirl outfit where the shirt was nearly see-through, and the skirt that looked like it would expose her if she sneezed.  Ransom found himself eyeing her up and down, his eyes trailing down her tanned, tone thighs to where the garter belt stopped, “daddy did you bring a friend for me to play with?”
Ransom’s eyes shot up back to hers before he shot Hansen a look.  He noticed Lloyd’s jaw twitching, a clear indication that he’d had no intention of sharing the woman before them, “he’s new to the Doll House, Angel…I figured we’d let him have a go at one of the girls while daddy shows you how much he’s missed you…”
“But I wanna play with both of you, daddy…” she whimpered, batting her thick lashes at both men.  A shockwave ran through Ransom’s spine and sent a pulse straight to his cock.  The woman reached out her hands and took one of Lloyd’s and one of his.  He shot Lloyd another look, and he caught the fact that while Lloyd didn’t look back at him, his mustache twitched, “it’s been so long since you’ve been back…I need so much attention.”
Lloyd stood up a little straighter, slightly irritated by the insinuation that she needed more than just him, “gonna be a brat for daddy?  You know what that gets you, Angel…”
“Daddy,” she whimpered yet again, giving him the sweetest doe eyes that she could manage.  Lloyd dropped her hand and out of instinct she dropped Ransom’s, her full attention going back to Lloyd, “daddy…don’t be mean…”
“Mean,” he scoffed, rolling his eyes at her, “you think I’m being mean?  You’re the one acting like my cock isn’t enough to fill that tight little cunt and stretch her to her limits…and in front of everyone…I was hoping you’d be my good little angel and find daddy’s friend a playmate…not try to snatch him up for yourself like a greedy little whore!”
The woman paled and her eyes glittered. 
Ransom felt his stomach turning as the woman before him looked like she was going to cry. 
“Lloy-“
She went to turn to run away from him, but Lloyd grabbed her arm and spun her around until her back was flush against his chest.  Ransom looked around, curious to see if anyone was paying attention to the conflict in the room, but the girls all seemed preoccupied with other men or one another.  It was like the scene playing out in front of him was something that they attributed to as being normal.
“You’re not being a very good girl, Angel…you’re acting more like an ungrateful little slut,” Lloyd whispered against her ear.  She shivered and Lloyd smiled, “you’re going to be a good little girl and go to your room…I’ll give you what you want because I’m a reasonable man…and when it comes down to it, daddy loves you, Angel, and you know that…but I better not hear you crying about me being the mean one…or you’ll get an extra punishment after he’s had a go at you and it’s just the two of us.”
He released her without a second thought, and she was quick to run in the direction of the stairs and up to what Ransom assumed was her room.  He swallowed nervously as he looked at Lloyd, “What in the hell was that?”
“My girl wants to play with both of us,” he said simply.  His eyes scanned the room, and it was obvious to Ransom that Lloyd was upset by the situation, “and while I don’t usually let her play with others, because I don’t play well with others, today is actually her birthday.  And-“
“It’s her birthday?”
“That’s why we made the stop here,” he said as though it were obvious, “this was well out of our way, Drysdale.  Figured I’d make a little stop off here and wish her a good night, then stuff her full of me, and be out of here, sipping a latte while we board the jet to the next job.”
“So, you just…what…you’re going to fuck her then walk away?” Ransom asked, curious about their situationship, “What about when you’re not here?”
“I pay for her room,” he shrugged, “no one else touches my Angel without my saying so.  And I pay for her to go school when I’m not around, so she’s got something to do…my baby may look like a dumb little slut, but she’s got an engineering degree and she’s working on her master’s in chemistry…when I finish what I need to, my angel is going to come work for me…but until then, I know she’s safe.”
“And she doesn’t care?”
Lloyd chuckled, rolling his eyes at the playboy as he led him up the steps and towards her room, “of course she cares.  Last time I came by she nagged me about taking her home…said she missed me.  That was four months ago.”
“Four months?”
Lloyd shrugged once more, “stayed for four days…one for each month I was gone.  Made her write pages on pages saying that she was a brat who needed her daddy to keep her in line all the while I had her warm my cock.  Held a wand to her pretty little cunt and told her if she soaked my boxers, she wasn’t going to be able to walk by the time I left.  Edged her for hours like that.   She was shaking while she wrote.  God it was amazing…”
“Jesus…”
“What?” Lloyd chuckled, “that’s nothing compared to what some of the others do…there’s this guy, Kemp…bought Angel’s younger sister and another woman.  Looks at Angel’s sister like the purest goddess you can imagine, but he edges the hell out of her.  I actually got that idea from him.”
“He’s got two girls?”
“Eats the one bit by bit, but yeah,” Lloyd shrugged, not wanting to talk about the weird situation with the cannibal, “he’s got two girls, but it should really count as one and three quarters by now.”
Ransom’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head, “He eats her?”
“Still not the weirdest thing that’s happened around here,” he shrugged, “got all kinds of guys here. Don’t worry about the cannibal though…that’s a consensual thing.  The girl was jealous that Kemp is in love with Angel’s little sister and offered herself up to him…and well, there are some guys around here that are into the whole missing body parts thing, so she makes a comfortable living off it, and decides when he gets to have his little feasts…she gets her own little sense of control from it, so don’t go feeling bad for her.”
“What the actual hell?” Ransom asked, the disgust seeping from his tone. 
“Rule one,” Lloyd said as he stopped in front of a door, “don’t judge what the others do.  This is the Doll House…and exclusive community of some of the most dangerous men on the face of the planet.  And these girls don’t get out, so they like to talk.  You don’t want to have any issues if you don’t have to, so don’t confide in a girl unless she’s your endgame, got it?”
“Yeah…sure…”
“Rule two,” Lloyd began once more, “Angel really is my girl…you ever come here without me and touch her, I will kill you…no questions asked.  Is that understood?”
“Is there a rule three?”
“Yeah…don’t go after Angel’s little sister,” Lloyd said clearly, “last guy that did was a super soldier and the cannibal took his arm and ate it.  And he liked the guy…he’s fucking crazy.”
“The guy that eats people or the guy missing his arm?”
“Both!” Lloyd huffed, “we may be some dark guys, but we’ve got a system.  Stay in your lane and don’t play with a doll that doesn’t belong to you and you should be fine…and don’t worry about trying to sort it out.  The girls will tell you if they belong to someone.  Usually if they’re in the main rooms though and not a bedroom, they’re game.”
“W-why did you bring me here, Lloyd?”
Lloyd smiled as he clapped the younger man on the shoulder, “It’s because you’re my protégé, Drysdale, you’re a member.  So welcome to the Doll House.”
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boxofbonesfic · 28 days
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Title: 𝙳𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚕𝚐ä𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛 [6]
Pairing: Dark!Ransom x Reader, Lloyd Hansen x Reader
Summary: Your husband’s twin brother has always made you uncomfortable, and after two years of marriage, you finally find out why. 
Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Possessive Behavior, Stalking, Kidnapping, Basement-wife, Gaslighting, Manipulation, Breeding kink, Smut, Darkfic, Dead Dove: Do not eat!
Word Count: 3,776
A/N: whew. okay. we’re back, we’re updating, and we’re getting back on track. i think the motivation behind the madness is becoming a little clearer. or at least, more clear. i hope you all enjoy, and as always, comments and especially reblogs are always appreciated. ❤️ divider by @firefly-graphics​
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It’s your wedding day, again. 
  You remember the soft white satin of your dress like it was yesterday—only it’s today, isn’t it? How can something happen again if it hasn’t happened yet? You look down at your hands, where the lacy sleeves of your wedding dress loop gracefully around your thumbs—your nails are picked raw and bleeding. You look back up at the mirror, and your own distraught face stares back at you. 
  I don’t want to get married. 
  No, that isn’t right—this is a good day, a happy day, why don’t you want it anymore? There is knowledge that dances just out of touch as you stare fuzzily at the mirror in your bridal suite. Something is wrong, but you don’t remember what it is. The mirror fragments, each component folding away as the world tilts on it’s axis, wood flooring becoming red carpet strewn with rose petals. 
  You stand at the altar, the priest beaming at you. 
  You will take him won’t you? As husband, husband and wife—Ransom splits in two like a cell, and both of them hold your hands so tight the bones creak and hurt and—
  “I love you, Princess, Sweetheart, Darling, Mine—” One voice, two mouths, one person, two bodies. You don’t realize they’re pulling until you tear, splitting right down the middle  like you’re made of tissue paper. too. Pulling you to bloody pieces as they repeat oaths of husbandly devotion. 
  My wife.
  MY  WIFE.
  You wake up in darkness, your heart pounding in your chest. It disorients you, and you blink, expecting the cloud to clear from your eyes but it doesn’t. Immediately your hand goes to your stomach, and your frantic heartbeat calms just a fraction as you rest a hand on the gentle swell. The thoughts in your head are still an anxious jumble. Ransom, Lloyd, the party—
  God, the party. 
  Your stomach churns as you recall Lloyd’s cruel smile. 
  Tell him. Tell me what he says. 
  You clap a hand to your mouth as an anguished sob threatens to escape. Ransom, Lloyd… where had they taken you? You frantically feel your way to the edge of the bed, your feet slipping a little on the cool tile as you stand. 
  “H-hello?” You call out into the darkness, but there’s no response. Trembling, you begin taking short, halting steps forward, your hands outstretched. “P-please, someone—fuck!” You curse loudly as your foot catches the edge of something, a table, a chair, you can’t tell. “Answer me!” 
  No one does. 
  You wander forward blindly until you reach a wall, and, feeling along it, you feel plaster turn to glass. You gasp, frantically dragging your hands along the surface until feel something—a switch. You flick it up, and there’s a sound like whirring gears. The lights don’t come on, but something else happens instead: the blackout shades on the other side of the thick pane of glass begin to lift, light creeping in underneath the edge. It’s blinding at first, spots dancing in your eyes as you throw a hand up to shield them, but after a moment, they adjust. 
  You see… a beach. 
  An empty beach. 
  The clear blue water comes straight up to the window like an aquarium. There are no people on the pristine, white sand—no one to hear you as you frantically beat your palm against the glass. Frantically, you turn around to take stock of the room, grabbing for a nearby chair. You knock over the little coffee table in the sitting area next to you, but you don’t care. It takes all your strength to heft it above your head, screaming as you slam it into the glass—
  But nothing happens. It connects with a dull thud, the treated wood splintering as it cracks. The window is unharmed, barely even scratched. An anguished wail tears from your chest as you throw everything within reach that you can lift, beating everything into splinters until you’re left panting and sobbing in the wreckage. 
  “Sweetheart you know that really isn’t good for the baby.” You whirl around frantically, grabbing for the leg of a chair you’d broken into kindling against the indestructible-fucking-window, brandishing it threateningly. You hadn’t even heard the sound of a door opening—in fact, as you stare, wide-eyed around the room, trying to pin down his point of entry, you can’t seem to find a door at all in the lavishly decorated suite. 
  “Fuck you!” You snarl at him, your lip curling. “Let—let me out of here!” Ransom clucks his tongue at you like you’re an errant child.
  “You’re a smart girl, Love. You know I’m not going to do that.” 
  “You can’t fucking keep me in here—” Ransom shakes his head. 
  “I can, Sweetheart. And I’m going to. We’re going to.” He casts a disparaging look down at the ruined chairs and table by your feet. “Lloyd did tell me not to put the good stuff in first—I underestimated your temper.” The casual remark makes you want to swing your makeshift bat at his head. “He designed it for you, you know. I thought we could just lock you in the basement, but now that I see it, I think this is better.” 
  “You’re a monster.” You’re crying, hard, hysterical sobs that leave your throat raw and aching. He actually has the gall to look hurt by your insult, his face crumpling as his mouth presses into a thin, angry line. 
  “A monster that loves you. That would do anything to protect you—even from yourself.” Your body seizes with fear as he crosses the room in a few easy strides, gripping your shoulders with furious hands. You whine as he squeezes, pressing harder and harder until you drop the scrap of wood you’re holding. You don’t know this Ransom, this maniacal, cruel man wearing your husband’s face, your husband’s ring. 
  “Do you remember what it was like when we got together?” He asks. Ransom shakes you a little, like he’s trying to jog your memory. “Living at home with your parents, helping them with every single bill because you were terrified your sister was going to graduate high-school on the streets—”
  “So what?” You spit back. “What the fuck does that have to do with anything?” 
  “I gave you everything.” For the first time you see the same possessive madness in his eyes you’d seen in Lloyd’s. “And you think you can just walk away? Take from me until you’ve gotten your fill? That’s not how this works, Sweetheart.” He releases you and you stumble away, clutching yourself. He straightens his shirt, smoothing back the errant hairs that have fallen into his face. 
  “We’re going to give you such a good life, Sweetheart. You just have to trust us.” 
  “I will never trust you again.” You growl the words at him like a threat. “I hate you.” And then, inexplicably, he’s your Ransom again, his blue eyes soft as he looks at you, like he knows something you haven’t yet come to accept. Like an adult admonishing a child for fears they’ll soon leave behind as they grow to accept the way things are—the way they always will be. 
  “You won’t always.” His eyes flick down to the destruction you’ve wrought, and he clucks his tongue. “Maybe I’ll talk to Lloyd about bringing in some new furniture for you, if you’re good.” Ransom’s handsome mouth curves up into an amused smile. “Maybe something a little heavier.” He kicks at a piece of the table, before making his way back over to the other side of the room. A door the same color as the wall opens at his touch. 
“Lunch in an hour.” 
   True to his word Ransom returns with Lloyd in tow, a tray held in his large hands. You’d waited for this moment with a dark sort of anticipation, and for a brief moment, their stunned, angry expressions as the door panel slides open fill you with a sense of profound pride.
   You’d done your level best to destroy everything that wasn’t nailed down,  methodically and systematically taking apart everything you could get your hand on. Even the mattress lies ruined, feathers and wood splinters littering the torn cover. Though the mirror had refused to break—and indeed proved too heavy for you to lift—you feel a smug satisfaction in seeing what you had been able to accomplish with jagged pieces of plywood.  
  Fuck you. 
  Lloyd steps in first, squatting down to inspect a piece of the smashed coffee table. 
  “I told you we shouldn’t have put this stuff in here first. Empty room, Ransom. You always have to start with an empty room.” His eyes flick up to yours, and he smiles softly—affectionately. “Hi, Princess.”
  “Go to hell, Lloyd.” Ransom steps fully into your room then, shutting the door gently behind him before setting the tray on the windowsill. He sighs. 
  “I know it was stupid to hope your attitude had improved in an hour, but stranger things have happened.” He glances back at the tray. “You should eat something, Love. It’s been four days of—” His words become a static drone as the panic begins to set in. Four days? I’ve been out for four days? The questions fill your head almost faster than you can process them. Where are you? Your parents, your sister? What happened? 
  “What is this? What is this fucking place?” 
  The pride in Ransom’s eyes makes you want to vomit. “We made it for you. Just for you. It took—how long, Lloyd?” 
  “A year, give or take.” He rubs his fingers along the growing stubble on his upper lip. “And then finding staff…” He pauses. “The hotel, or just the Room?” The way Lloyd says room makes it sound singular, important. You cannot help but gape at them
  “You’re sick—both of you. Y-you—what you did to me—” You shake your head. “A-all of this.” You gesture at the room around you. “For what?” Lloyd threads his fingers together, and you can hear the soft metal click of his rings tapping against each other as he does. 
  “I know you’re not deaf, Princess. It’s for you.” 
  Cold trickles down your spine. You’ve been doing it ever since you woke up, running through each moment in the past four, five and cataloguing each one you couldn’t make make sense. You’re doing it again now,  thumbing back through the index cards of your memories and finding empty slots. Thanksgivings, Christmases, Easters—Ransom had told you it had been a year, but you can’t trust that, you can’t believe him, not after everything.
  “My family won’t let you do this sick fucking shit, you know that.” You spit. “They’re not going to let you kidnap me—”
  “How much is Nathalie’s school, Sweetheart?” Ransom asks, cocking his head. “Per year.”
  “What?” The question throws you off, the freight train of words in your throat piling up messily on your tongue. “What are you—”
  “How much is her tuition?” He repeats it slowly like you’re having trouble understanding him. You bare your teeth at Ransom as you grimace. 
  “I don’t know. She has a scholarship. What the fuck does that have to do with anything?”
  “It’s $63,000.” Ransom gives you the figure so matter-of-factly it’s like he rehearsed it. “Per year.” Your stomach sinks, like your body knows before your head. “What, you didn’t know? No one ever reads the paperwork, do they, Lloyd?” He glances at his brother over his shoulder. “What’s it say on the checks? T. H. B. Inc., doesn’t it?” He licks his lips. “The T stands for Thrombey, Sweetheart.” 
  You almost want to laugh for the insanity of it all—you even try, but no sound escapes your tight, dry throat. Lloyd nods. 
  “Same as the ones your father gets. Funny how his company’s picked up these last few years, isn’t it?” 
  Your fists clench and unclench as you sit there on the floor, staring up at them. There’s nothing left to destroy, nothing left to break except the two of them—and you already know how that ends. Instead, you’re forced to sit there, hot rage coiling in your chest as the realization dawns cold and cutting—
  Your family is already bought and paid for, even if they don’t know it. 
  “I never asked you for this.” You spit, nails biting into the meat of your palms as you press angry fists against the cool tile. “I didn’t ask you for fucking any of this!” 
  “I promised to make a home for you, didn’t I, Sweetheart?” He squats down in front of you, his hand out like he wants you to take it. “A good husband provides.” It isn’t supposed to feel like being cut into a thousand pieces to hear his wedding vows regurgitated like this. His gaze drops to the ring still on your finger. You hadn’t noticed it until he did, and as he watches, you rip it from your finger with a violent twist, and throw it at him. He actually looks upset at this, a hint of his earlier rage passing over his features like a cloud. 
  You hate the way it makes your gut wrench because you want him to fucking hurt. It’s like your body hasn’t realized yet just who he is—who they are, and it makes you even angrier. You turn away, loose nightgown bunching under your thighs as you turn to face the wall instead. 
  “Leave me alone.”
  “Not until you eat something.” You aren’t sure if it’s Ransom that speaks, or Lloyd. You press your eyes shut and bite your lips to shutter the angry, frustrated wail that threatens to leap from your throat. “That’s not good for the baby.” 
  Good for the baby.
  Good for the baby.
  Good for the fucking baby.
  You want to hate it now; the child growing inside of you, even if only to spite the men standing behind you. But you cannot bring yourself to—and you hate that too. 
  Shame is not a new feeling, not for you, but it feels new today as you pick apart the plain chicken salad sandwich they had brought for you. Assume it’s drugged. You hate yourself as you tear off chunks with stiff fingers, forcing your mouth open and swallowing it down with a grimace. Assume everything is drugged. When you’re finished, you drag the back of your hand across your mouth roughly, tossing the tray at Lloyd’s feet. 
  He doesn’t pick it up. 
  “Good girl.” You shiver. It’s involuntary, and you know he sees it, the way his mouth twitches with the urge to lift into the smug smile you know so well. “Your wish is our command, Princess.”
  Ransom bends to pick up the ring wordlessly, and follows his brother out of your room. 
  —
  They don’t come back that night.
  You watch the sky outside the glass wall of your prison turn dark, and then brighten again with stars as you sit huddled against it, hugging your knees to your chest. You’re exhausted, but you can’t sleep. Your body won’t let you, jerking you back to wakefulness as soon as your eyelids start to droop. The thoughts won’t stop coming either, cycling through on a loop you can’t seem to stop. 
  I wonder what Nat’s doing. 
  I wonder if they’re worried about me.
  I wonder what Ransom told them.
  You want to pinpoint the time your life went off the rails but you can’t, you don’t know it. College, perhaps? 
  When you’d met Ransom? Lloyd?
  You drag yourself away from the window after a few hours of staring bleakly out at the empty beach. It feels like too much to hope for that someone would happen by, not with the lengths they had clearly taken to secure you. The comforter bleeds feathers as you drag it to the floor beside the bed, wedging yourself between it and the wall. You know you aren’t safe—you’ve little control over that—but the solid press of concrete behind you makes you feel more secure. 
  It’s what allows you to finally fall asleep, though it is not restful. It feels like you wake every few minutes at every imagined sound, jolting back to consciousness and scanning the still empty room before quickly passing out again. You half expect Lloyd and Ransom to be back, waiting for you to open your eyes but when you finally do, you are still blessedly alone, but for the fresh tray in front of the door. 
  You wait for a few minutes, just to see if they emerge from your peripheral vision, the places in the room you can’t see from your vantage point—but they don’t. Everything is as it was before, the destruction from your earlier rampage still strewn across the floor. It feels surreal. Slowly, you pick your way across the debris and grasp the tray in your trembling hands. You don’t want to eat it, not really, but your stomach clenches and rumbles at the sight of food as you peek beneath the tray cover. 
  It isn’t anything special—another sandwich, a bag of chips, and a bottle of water. You check beneath the styrofoam plate just to be sure, there’s no note, no nothing, and you cannot help but wonder when they’ll be back. They’re messing with your head, you know they are—and you hate that it’s working. You’re rattled, upset, anxious—just how they want you. 
  The urge comes again to pick up the largest piece of anything you can find and smash it against the window until it breaks. 
  We made it for you.
  Your stomach churns with disgust even as you take a greedy bite out of your sandwich. How hadn’t you seen yourself and your family waltzing right into the palms of their hands? How hadn’t you noticed? Lloyd had always been overly interested, overly gracious, even after you’d rejected him, and started dating his brother. You’re reminded of Linda’s curt smile and her slickly delivered barb. You tore them apart without even thinking about it. And Lloyd’s admission…
  It was more than a little crush.
  You don’t know how to reconcile the madness simmering behind your husbands eyes with the man who’d held your hands and said his vows. As he’d griped your wrists, staring into your eyes with his own fever-bright, you could barely recognize him. 
  You clean your plate, washing it down with the water before casting another look around the room. It’s blank, empty beyond the few pieces of furniture you hadn’t been able to destroy. No books, no television—nothing. You search the walls near the door panel, looking for something, anything that might make it open, but you find little. The smooth white keyboard does not respond when you push your thumb against the rubbery buttons, and the seam is so narrow you can barely wedge your fingernails into it to try and pry it open. 
  For hours you walk the perimeter of the room, running your hands along the walls, feeling no breaks in the smooth, cool surface. You have to get out of here—but you don’t even know where here is. How far you are from the resort, if you’re even on the same island. As the room darkens, you realize you’ve been pacing for hours like a caged animal, and neither Ransom nor Lloyd has come to check on you all day. Somehow, the thought fill you with apprehension. Not knowing when they might appear is unnerving, and you suspect they mean it to be. 
  You thread your fingers through your hair, tugging on it as you watch the sun sink into the sea, a panicked, claustrophobic feeling rising in your chest until you realize you aren’t breathing. You can’t stay here like this, you can’t—
  Before you realize it you’re running for the door, beating your fists wildly against the panel. 
  “Let me out! Let me the fuck out of here!” Your frenzied wailing rings in your own ears. It’s like you’re numb to the pain as you swing with all your might. You’re aware-even if only dimly—of the fact that your fists will be sore and aching later, bruised and beat to a pulp but you don’t care. Not if it gets you out—not if it gets you away from them. 
  “Ransom! Ransom let me out! You can’t fucking keep me here! You can’t!” 
  Nothing happens. The door doesn’t budge, and there is no answer to your increasingly panicked demands. You scream for hours. Until you’re hoarse, and your trembling fists ache to raise above your shoulders. Still, you bang your open palms against the panel as your firm insistence becomes a stream of nonsense pleas. 
  “Please, please don’t do this, if you l-loved me y-you wouldn’t do this!” Tears and snot run down your face as you collapse to your knees, exhausted. “Please.” You mumble, curling in on yourself in front of the door. The tears come again, and you don’t even try to stop them, sobbing open-mouthed on the cold tile, your hands fisting in your nightgown. 
  “Please.” 
  You lay there until the room goes dark. 
  —
  “I hate seeing her like this.” The cameras are good—too good. He can see the pain on your face too clearly, hear the betrayal in your voice just a bit too well through the speakers. 
  “You think I like it?” Lloyd asks irritatedly, and Ransom sighs. “She’ll even out soon. If not, you can up the mood stabilizer. She’s cleared for it until the second trimester.” Ransom knows his brother, knows that’s his version of comforting reassurance. “Besides, you’re the one that decided to play keep-away.” 
  Ransom looks at the camera again, at your softly moving shoulders. He’s both thankful and irritated at the hair covering your pretty face—but at least it blocks the sight of your tears. As he watches, you shudder—like you’re still crying, even in your sleep. 
  “I know. We have to make her grateful. For us.” He says, still looking at the screen. And he does. He understands the necessity of it—it was his plan, almost more than Lloyd’s. “I still hate it.” 
  “I don’t anticipate she’ll keep it up more than a week. Two, tops.” For the most part, Ransom has seldom ever found himself envious of his twin, but now he felt his lip curl with irritated jealousy at Lloyd’s confidence. “Don’t worry little brother,” he grins. “Our Princess will love us again.” He turns back to the cameras. “I’m sure of it.” 
To be continued…
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Thank you for reading! Please check out my masterlist for other, similar works, and follow my library blog, @box-of-bones-library for updates. ❤️
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foxgloveprincess · 3 months
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Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Female Reader, Lance Tucker x Female Reader [Second Person Narrator]
Summary: After your night with Ransom, you’re moving on—really.  
Word Count: 2,818
Attic Wives Anonymous Masterlist
Warnings: UnBeta’d, Dark, Stalking, Fear/Paranoia, Unreliable Narrator, Yandere Vibes, BDSM (Dom/sub, Exhibitionism, Rope Bondage, Suspension, Aftercare), brief Smut (Vaginal Penetration, Unsatisfying), Pet Names (baby, pidge, etc). Minors do not interact (18+).
A/N: Here’s some more Ransom, being patient as he can be. Let me know what you think!
I love feedback, so go ahead and reblog if you want. However, I give no permission to copy, translate, rewrite or post my work on any third party website or app. Seeing my work posted anywhere beside my blog, my library blog, or my AO3 account (FoxglovePrincess) means it’s been stolen/plagiarized.
I don’t do tag lists, so follow @foxglovefics to sign up for notifications on my fics. 
Please DO NOT click ‘Keep Reading’ if you are not 18+ years of age or if you are uncomfortable with the pairing, themes, dynamics, or warnings. You are responsible for your own media consumption. Thank you!
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Breathe. In. Out. Your body relaxes into the cradle of ropes. You catch a glimpse of Chase, his smile shining for his audience. You keep your thoughts on him, too scared to let them drift. 
Though, another eye catches yours from the crowd. Your lips twitch and your teeth worry over them. Hunger, deep and dark, glinting. Pride radiating in waves. The eyes of a man who looks at you as though you’re a pristinely polished trophy. And you’re happy to be that for Lance Tucker. Just for him. God, what you’d let that man do to you. Never imagining the man who might do it better—never. 
You try to blink away thoughts of that rich asshole and let your eyes drift closed. A hand binding your wrists, around your throat. That smug smirk of his as he took you apart piece by piece. 
No. There’s no room for Ransom. He didn’t write you a check, but a week later you’d gotten a direct deposit—more than he’d promised. And you hadn’t heard from him since. Good riddance. 
You find Lance in the crowd again and let his proud smile satisfy you. You don’t need some pompous, entitled, egotistical brat hanging around being a creep. You’re glad Ransom got you out of his system. Really. You are. 
You breathe a moment, centering yourself back in the present. There’s no need to think about Ransom Drysdale. None at all. 
“Are you alright?” Chase asks in a quiet tone. His hand reaches out to steady you, grounding you to the conversation with him. 
“I’m fine,” you reply before assessing the state of your body. “But a little sore? Maybe? I think I might need to come down soonish.” 
“Alright,” Chase says. He turns back to the crowd announcing the end of his presentation, explaining the aftercare and begins to lower the rig. 
Your belly finds the mats, hands still wrapped behind your back. You turn your head and rest it on the cushion while you wait. Chase approaches and kneels by your waist. 
A laugh huffs from your chest when you look up at him. “I could have stayed up longer.” 
Chase quirks a brow. “I’m sure you could have. But I didn’t think you should.” 
You make an accepting sound in your throat and let him do his work. A minute passes before your limbs are all free. Chase wraps the rope from his palm to his elbow, winding it to put away. 
Slowly, you begin to move. First legs, stretching into the air and bending, then arms. When you finally push up from the mat, Chase stands ready to help guide you back to your room. 
“You did good today,” you remark as you both walk down the hallway. “They were eating up every word. Saw a bunch heading toward your photography table.” He smiles at you. “I think they really like the pose, too.” 
The door opens to your room and you find your futon. Chase hands you your snack and drink. 
“What do you think about going vertical next week?” he asks, brushing his fingers over your forehead while you lay comfortably on your bed. 
“As long as I’m not upside down,” you reply with closed eyes and a yawn. 
“I’ll let Lance know you’re ready for him.” Chase leaves you drifting off to sleep to get your boyfriend—the newest addition to your aftercare routine. 
The door opens and you feel the tender touch of Lance’s hand. He leans down to kiss your lips. 
“Hey, baby,” you murmur, half asleep. But when you turn over and open your eyes, no one’s there. You sit up and glance around. 
The door sits in its frame, shut and undisturbed, just like the rest of your room. Must have been your imagination, but you could’ve sworn…
The door opens and Lance struts in. You catch his eye and his smile beams. 
“God, you were fantastic!” he enthuses. Taking his hands from his track pants pockets, he cups your cheeks and presses his lips to yours. They taste of cherry chapstick, how could you have forgotten that—the lips that kissed yours before him didn’t. 
“You waiting up for me?” 
You nod without a word, unsure as to what to say. Part of you wants to mention that moment before he came in. But why would he want to hear about your dream? Instead, you pull back your blanket, inviting him to warm you up. 
“As soon as we get back to your place, I’ll get your epsom salt bath going,” he starts, liking the sound of his own voice as much as you do. It grounds you, especially after a strange encounter with a figment of your imagination. “Gotta make sure you aren’t sore in the morning. Then we can get you in your…”
He keeps talking and it lulls you to sleep. Knowing that when you wake up, he’ll take you back to your place and sleep over. And everything will go like it always does. 
Which is why you’re unsurprised when Saturday morning dawns and Lance has slotted himself between your thighs. 
His hips curve into yours, his cock stretching you wide. Your fingers dig into his spine, clutching him close. Moans spill from your lips. His heavy breaths brush across your cheeks. Sweat beads on his brow as he readjusts you, stretching one of your legs closer to your chest while keeping the other wrapped around his hips. 
Your lips press together. It all feels good—always has. Even when you were finding your groove together, with his athleticism and your need for intimacy. 
He makes noises of pleasure. His hips accelerating in a signal of his imminent release. Your eyes close, focusing on your own. Lance’s hips stutter. He paints your insides with his cum and sighs. 
A sunny smile spreads his lips. How his hair remains coiffed after all the sweat and exertion, you don’t know, but it’s endearing. A quirk you quite adore. 
He flops to the side, running his hand along his abdomen, tickling the tattoo of the gold ribbon he has leading down his pelvis. Another uniquely Lance thing. So proud of his accomplishments, and you don’t blame him. He’s incredible. 
But your pulse thrums with the dissipating arousal of your unsatisfied lust. Your arms reach over your head, stretching sore muscles. Without meaning to, you let your mind wander. How Ransom made you sore in the best way. How he fit inside you. How he made you cum until you ached for nothing but pleasure. 
Your boyfriend’s hand reaches over, smoothing over your tummy and flicking at one of your nipples.
“Where’re you going?” he asks. 
You look over and smile. Eyes trace over his pouty lips and bright blue eyes. You tilt your head and brush your lips to his. 
“I’m right here,” you reply. 
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“Are you going to tell me what’s on your mind?” Harlan asks. He leans back in his chair and you lift your head from your research. 
“The toxicology of plant-based poisons,” you reply, immersed in your work. Though, you know it won’t satisfy your boss. 
He says nothing more for a moment. Letting you turn your full attention back to the research at hand. He probably didn’t need much help in the subject with how long he’s been writing murder mysteries. Still, he always likes to be accurate. As few creative liberties as possible—at least where it counts. 
“Alright,” he says with as little enthusiasm as he can bestow on such an acceptance. “You will tell me eventually, mind.” 
“Will I?” you mumble distractedly. 
“You’re not a very good liar.” 
You snort and turn the page, picking up a highlighter and sticky note to jot down a thought on a passage about cyanide. 
“It isn’t something Walt did, is it?” he prods, the weight of his observant gaze heavy on your shoulders. 
“No, Harlan,” you reply, recapping the pen in your hand. 
“What about Ransom? He gave you some trouble a little while ago.”
You swallow and push aside the embarrassment and panic that spikes through you, replying, “No, Harlan.” 
“Huh,” he says. 
“Shouldn’t you be working?” you ask with a huff of mild frustration. 
“I’m quite stuck on what should happen next,” he says with a flick to the corner of the page. 
“Right,” you drone with the skeptical quirk of your eyebrow sent in his direction. 
He smiles that enigmatic smile of his and reaches up a hand to cup his chin. “You know I’m just concerned.” 
With a sigh, you give up on your work. Your boss won’t let you focus on it anyway. Folding your arms over your chest, you lean back and contemplate how best to word your explanation. One tiny slip and the jig is up. How could you possibly tell him his grandson paid to fuck you better than anyone ever has?
“You’re thinking about it now, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” you admit, pursing your lips around the word. “Don’t need to tell you all the gory details, though.”
“That’s the best part of a story,” he refutes with a twinkle in his eye. His full attention remains on you, waiting for the final crack before the flood. 
“Let’s just say,” you pause for the right wording. “My boyfriend is amazing, but doesn’t always…” You trail off with a hand gesture to imply the rest.
“You mean in the boudoir?” Harlan twines his fingers and tilts his head in interest. 
You snort and nod. “Yeah.” You lean back in your chair until your eyes meet the ceiling. “Got me thinking about the last prick. He was an asshole, but he...” You trail off, uncertain as to how you might finish the thought.
Harlan looks at you a long while. When your head turns to meet his gaze, he says, “May I offer advice in the form of an old adage?”
You sit upright and nod. “Lay it on me.” Complete with a grabbing motion of your hands. 
“Comparison is the thief of joy.” 
It sits in the air, letting you soak it in. Harlan returns to his manuscript in silence. Yet you’re stuck on the words. He’s right. Ransom is your past—a blip, if anything—and Lance is your future—a real, solid one at that.
You turn back to your research with determination. Refusing to let Ransom occupy a second more of your thoughts. You start back on your note about cyanide. 
“I know that’s not all, by the by,” your boss intones right as your pen meets paper. “But it’s enough for now.”
You swallow and glance over your shoulder to him. “Thanks.” 
Harlan nods with a hum and places his glasses on his nose. 
The sounds of the typewriter fill the empty space of the room and the two of you continue your work. You lose yourself to the facts and let the hours tick by. Thoughts wavering on your future. 
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“Seriously, this tastes like shit.” 
You hear his voice before you see him. Your heart drops to your stomach. All you can think is ‘Oh, God, no.’ Your feet find the final step and you freeze. Unsure of the best course of action. 
You might be able to completely skirt by unnoticed through the front door. Or the back patio. As long as Ransom stays in the kitchen. 
It was coming back inside that posed the problem. Harlan sending you on an errand to the local public library to pick up a book he placed on hold. If Ransom were still here, how could you avoid him without knowing his position in the mansion? 
“It’s a good thing I didn’t make it for you, Hugh,” Fran replies. 
You blink out of your momentary panic. As if Ransom ever stayed so long with his grandfather. He’d be long gone by the time you got back. You scurry out the door, closing it with the softest click.
The breeze bites through the air. It stings your face with its crisp coolness. You wrap your scarf tighter around your neck and bundle your hands deeper into your sleeves. On the threshold of winter, you dread the thought of the first snow. 
You wait a moment for your car to warm before driving down the road to town. Thoughts mull in your mind, but music tunes them out. The radio already blasting holiday songs on repeat, prompting another train of thought to occupy you. Your first holiday not alone. Gifts for Lance. Holiday plans and the small, hopeful feeling warm in your chest.
You find a parking spot at the library and exit your car. The cold wind bustles you inside and you walk to the front counter. Used to your face, the librarians move quickly to check-out Harlan’s book to you. You smile and thank them, and then you’re on your way back, with little time to get your head on straight when thoughts of Ransom resurface. 
Parking the car, you linger a moment in the quickly dissipating heat. The car door slams behind you. A few quick strides take you back up the steps and into the house. You shiver as you undress your outerwear, hanging each piece up on your hook—coat, hat, scarf, mittens. 
You pause to listen. Straining to see if you can hear Ransom’s voice anywhere in the house. Knowing how much he likes to hear himself speak. Nothing. A sigh of relief blows past your lips. 
The stairs creak on your ascent. Marta greets you on her way down, a furrow between her brow. You almost ask her about it, but she slips away in a quick descent. 
You make it to the second landing and stop. He’s standing right there. Staring at a painting on the wall—one you’d admired before, reminiscent of Artemisia Gentileschi. One you pass multiple times a day on your way up to Harlan’s study. One of your favorite pieces in the house, really. 
Wishing to turn invisible just for a moment, you clutch the book close to your chest and close your eyes. With determination, you open them and march past Ransom, ignoring his presence. Yet, in your periphery, his head turns. 
“Oh,” he says—is there a tinge of affection in his tone? He cocks his head to the side and takes a long perusal of your body. His eyes narrow. “Where have you been?” Any question of tenderness vanishes with the question. Replaced by his usual derision.
You hold up the book in explanation. He squints at the cover and his lips part, but he doesn’t say anything. He seems to think better of a comment and looks back to the painting. 
“If you’ll excuse me then, Mr. Drysdale.” 
His jaw ticks in irritation. Eyes flashing toward you, he grits, “Call me Ransom, pidge.” 
You step sideways toward the stairs up to Harlan’s personal study. “Right,” you mutter under your breath. “I just thought—” You shake your head. A buzz in your pocket catches your attention. You pull the screen halfway out to check. The preview of a text from Lance shines up at you. Your lips twitch toward a smile as you tuck it away. “Nevermind.” You make it up two steps before you hear his voice again. 
“Is Lance treating you right?”
You might have thought the question just a figment of your imagination—prone as you are to those. But turning around, he watches you curiously. Your lips part, stunned.
“How did you know about him?” you ask with a glance over your shoulder to the upstairs door, drawn but not closed. Praying that Harlan won’t be privy to this unexpected conversation. 
“Friend of a friend,” Ransom replies with a shrug. But his eyes do not leave yours. It unsettles you, the steadiness of his focus. 
You swallow down your unease. “Why do you care?” you prod. Your face scrunches in an expression of dubiousness. 
Ransom blinks and looks away to the painting again. “I don’t.” The words rasp between his teeth.
“Right,” you mutter under your breath. “Well, Ransom.” Your fingers tap on the book cover. “I, uh, hope you have a nice rest of your day.” 
You retreat up the rest of the stairs and enter Harlan’s study. With a great huff of air releasing your nerves and pent-up frustration, you glance at your boss. A curious expression adorns his features. Your stomach flips, but you ignore it and hand over his book, ready to get back to work. You’re sure he’ll ask his questions later. 
As for you, you’ve got some answered. Like the fantasy of whether Ransom would really be such a horrible option. The answer is yes. No matter how well he fucked you or how he sent you reeling in your throes of passion, he is not the man for you. Of that, you’re now absolutely certain. 
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babyjakes · 1 year
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〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. ���
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event | jan ‘23 blurb night
summary | you will learn to take cock; it's the doctor's orders.
pairing | mean!dark!doctor!ransom drysdale x lloyd's little!reader
warnings | ddlg (daddy!lloyd's little!reader), doctor!ransom is mean, dark, cruel, sick, and we love him for it <33, dub/noncon, medfet elements: exam table, restraints, gloves, vaginal dilators, stretching (reader is initially very tight), pain kink, crying, mocking/degradation, humiliation, praise, one forced orgasm, implied forced p in v sex :^), formatting looks silly bc went over the character count
word count | 1,488
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requested by anon | Hey hey, what about a mean!doctor ransom with those vaginal dilators? He has a couple that gradually get larger in both length and thickness. Since he knows reader has such a small hole, he works those dilators one at a time to get her stretched and used to the size so he can pound into her later or at a later date. He’s a sadistic little shit too, enjoying whenever reader is moaning or whimpering in pain, telling him to ease up or take it out. Yet, he responds with something like “Awww, but we got to get you nice and stretched for my cock. You can take it, can’t you? Cmon…Be a good little fuck toy.” Maybe after a bit of begging, he shows the reader some mercy by rubbing her clit as he works the next size into her. Once he gets her through the size closest to his *coughs* hard as fuck cock *coughs*, he’d probably fuck her right then and there. Who knows….. I feel like he’d definitely take pleasure in watching her grow anxious though as he fastens the straps tightly, puts his gloves on, lays out the dilators and anything else he needs or wants, cuts off her clothes/underwear with a knife, that jazz. I wonder if he would explain what he would be doing to her or would he rather choose not to inform reader what torture procedure they’re gonna be enduring. Just a thought :)
an | oooh thanks for this wonderful idea friend! i hope it's okay that i took it and tweaked it a little bit!! i just love the idea of ran doing this to lloyd's baby, those two assholes work so perfectly together in my mind <3
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dr. hugh ransom drysdale is such a fucking menace.
and that's precisely what lloyd loves so much about him. he's nearly as sadistic and cruel as the mustached maniac himself, which makes him the naturally perfect fit when lloyd's girl ends up having a little problem... down there.
he drops you off at the younger man's office, wide-eyed and trembling as you sign in at the receptionist's desk. no one accompanies you back to your room, and it takes everything in you not to turn and run when dr. drysdale himself appears in the doorway, pumping sanitizer onto his hands as he closes the door behind him. no nurse accompanying him, it's just the two of you in the claustrophobic exam room. "ms. y/n," he greets, rubbing the foam between his hands as he takes a seat on his stool, motioning for you to get up on the table.
your eyes never leave him as you climb up, trying to use the pathetic patient's gown as best you can to cover yourself as you sit at the edge of the table. ransom chuckles at your bashfulness, rolling over and yanking off the flimsy garment before you can even think to stop him. "we won't be needing that, sweetheart. now be a good girl and lie back for me."
he's rough when handling you to guide you further toward the edge of the padded surface. when he reaches for your legs to put them up in the stirrups, your first tears begin to fall. "aw, poor thing. look at you- such big, frightened eyes. don't cry, baby. 'm i gonna have to strap you down?" his voice is so mocking in tone, you pass a small glare his way. "lloyd said you can get pretty defiant when trying to fit things up there, let's see..." he finds the right set of restrains in one of the drawers below the table, beginning to secure you in place as your soft protests start.
your poor heart rate's elevated as you lie tied and spread in such a vulnerable manner; staring up at the ceiling, you try to get your breathing under control. "now sweetheart, did your daddy tell you what we'd be doing today? he go over the procedures i'll need to perform?"
cheeks burning in humiliation, you look over at the grinning doctor as he starts to pull on a pair of black exam gloves. "it's okay, little girl. no need to be embarrassed. your daddy brought you here because he can't fuck you, right? he can't fit his cock up your tight little pussy?" you wince at his profanities, but he doesn't mind. "well," his voice trails off as he snaps on his second glove, tightening them both before focusing on the unopened box waiting for him on his instrument tray, "lucky for you, i know exactly how to help poor little girls who can't fit anything up their tiny little fuckholes."
from your spot, you strain to see what he removes from the packaging. when you realize it's a set of black rubber cylinders with rounded ends, ranging in size from just an inch wide and a few inches long to... god knows how long or wide, completely massive, your breath hitches in your throat. seeing your panic, ransom chuckles. "don't worry, baby. we'll start small. gotta work you up to the bigger ones, get you nice and ready for your daddy's big dick."
as you cry and tremble silently to yourself, he positions himself between your spread legs, grabbing a small bottle of lubricant and spreading some over the tip of one of the smaller instruments. "know you're not warmed up yet, sweetheart. bet you're still dry and scared- that's okay. this should help." once he has enough of the clear goo applied to the rubber, he turns to the intimate spot between your legs. "poor little girl," he repeats as he brings a thumb up to run over your folds, his sick mind of course finding great pleasure in the sight of you jerking away from his touch.
he brings the tip of the dilator up to rub over your hole a few times before slowly pushing it in, surprised at how tight you actually are. "jesus," he breathes, "he wasn't kidding when he said you can't even take a finger, hmm?"
"p-please," you beg as your head twists and turns desperately, "t-too big, hurts- please!"
"shhh, you can take it," ransom fights you, working the tool back and forth gradually until he has the entire thing fit inside your sore cunt. tears prickle in your eyes at the stretch. "see? that wasn't so bad," he croons, pumping the length of it in and out for a few minutes before removing it. he knows he should probably just work up one size at a time, but part of him wants it to hurt for you, so he decides to skip a few sizes. at the sight of his next choice, you cry harder.
"aww, poor little baby. but we have to get you all ready for your daddy's cock, remember? this next one isn't even close, we still have so far to go." once he's lubed up the toy, he starts to push it in again. he can't help but smile and laugh at you as you struggle against your restraints, letting out such sweet little cries of pain. "c'mon, gotta be a big girl for me. can you do that, sweetheart?" he asks, already knowing your answer.
"no, please!" you sob, "please! can't take it, h-hurts so bad- please!"
"i know it hurts baby, but we gotta get you nice and stretched out. you can take it, pretty girl. c'mon, almost there..." he has to fight to get the damn thing all the way in, but once he does and starts working it in and out, fucking you at a gradual pace with it, you're finally easing up a little bit, your cries of pain transitioning into little whimpers and moans. "there," he grins, getting a little rougher with his ministrations. "that's a good little slut, see? doesn't that feel good? so full, taking it so far up in you? look at you, you dirty girl; are you starting to get wet for me?"
you're panting, droopy-eyed, disoriented; you don't understand why it's starting to feel good. he removes the second size and you're given a moment to catch your breath, but when you see the next one the doctor's selected, you just about fall apart all over again. "oh come on, don't cry again," ransom groans, resisting the urge to shove the thing into you dry. "you're getting so close, sweetheart. here," once it's properly lubed, he begins pressing in again, and when you clench your teeth and begin to sob as predicted, he decides to have a little mercy on you, bringing his free hand up to rub your clit lightly with his thumb. your cries lessen as he masturbates you, though it's still an unbearable stretch. "i know, so big, isn't it baby? think after this one we'll be able to try one the size of your daddy's dick- won't he be so proud?"
it's a struggle to get it in, taking lots of pushing and help from ransom's thumb on your clit, but eventually you're able to take the toy in its entirety. "good, that's a good little fucktoy. look at you, getting so fucking needy- you're dripping all over the table, naughty girl." though it wasn't in his original plan, he's loving the sight of you writhing and mewling under his touch. growing a little more forceful with his thrusts, he speeds up his thumb over your clit. "you gonna cum for me baby? feels that good, huh? just can't help yourself."
you have no desire to orgasm, but at this point it seems like you won't have a choice. "no, wait- please-" you start to protest, but your resistance only eggs the doctor on more.
his voice is low, dark as he cuts you off. "no, don't fight me, little girl. you're gonna cum for me, now." tears well up in your eyes once more as you're brought to the edge of a terrifying climax; ransom lets out a vicious laugh as your orgasm rips through you. "fuck, just like that. filthy little bitch, getting off on the pain."
as you float down from your high, you're too dazed to notice the object being removed from you, and the doctor's hands pulling away. but when you come back to your senses to see dr. drysdale's massive, rock-hard cock has sprung free from his trousers, you're back to a terrified, frantic state as he grins devilishly at you. "what?" he mocks confusion as he reaches a hand down to pump his length a few times with a low grunt. “this way we can ensure you’ll be ready for your daddy.”
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shotgunbunny · 1 year
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I want ransom to use my throat like a flesh light 🤤🤤
༻𝐅𝐚𝐦𝐞, 𝐥𝐢𝐪𝐮𝐨𝐫, 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐥𝐲༺
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{warnings!! toxic family!!face fucking!! ransom being a presumptuous bitch!! everyone being assholes.}
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You and Ransom had been dating for a year now, and although there were tough times due to your bratty personalities clashing, it was often beautiful. He bathed you in his love and his hidden softness and kept you safe under his arm at parties filled with chaos. And you inturn drowned him in your love and kisses that you peppered all over his face to grant him comfort and remind him that you adored him.
You remember when you first met, you were at a party filled with rich assholes and you were wasted. You were laid on the bathroom floor crying, the alcohol in your system conjuring memories of your ex boyfriend cheating on you 2 days ago. You sat on and leaned against the tub and continued crying, suddenly the door opened and there stood the devil looking beautiful as always.
Ransom stared at you for a moment before sighing and locking the bathroom door. He recognised you from university. The sweetheart everyone adored, you once gave him a cookie for him standing up for you against the frat boys that called you a dumb whore. The cookie was delicious he won't even deny it. Which led him to wondering why a pretty little thing like you, that made the sweetest things, crying?
Hushed murmurs bounced around the bathroom and eventually Ransom took you to his house and took care of you. The second you were asleep he went to your ex boyfriends house and beat him bloody. But you never knew that.
From that moment you both grew closer until you grew tired and began getting moody with him for not making the first move, he rolled his eyes and asked you out. And now you were here meeting his family for Thanksgiving, this wasn't the first time you'd met them, but past meeting with them only lasted 10 minutes before they stared getting snarky and mean and Ransom stormed away with you beside him.
You were not looking forward to this dinner, the only people that liked you were Harlan and Ransoms mum. You tried to befriend Meg yet she thought if you could date Ransom for so long, you must be exactly like him. You liked Linda, she treated you with respect and was always kind as she thought that you had changed Ransom.
You were sat next to Ransom and Linda at dinner, bringing you comfort that you weren't that alone. Walt cleared his throat and stared at you, "So the gold-digger brought his silver-digging slut." Ransom smirked, "Yeah I did, no need to be jealous that my girl is hotter than yours will ever be, shriveled dick." The entire room errupted into chaos. You couldn't stand it and decided to bite back at the next issult thrown at you.
Joni was the one that decided to start the fire with you, "You're so obviously with Ransom for the money, you'd never fit into the family." You rolled your eyes at her, "I'm actually only with Ransom for his big cock, I can't wait to take his last name to spite you, bitch." Ransom went quite next to you.
He was ecstatic that you loved his cock, but the last comment got him. It was like you knew he was going to propose. Even Linda froze up knowing of Ransoms plan to propose after dinner. The whole time Harlan sat there, listening to the insanity that was his family until he finally shouted, "Enough! Stop this nonsense!" Ransom pulled his chair out and tugged you with him.
He tugged you upstairs into his old room and pushed you onto the bed. You stared at him, your eyebrows furrowed together as you watched him pace. You were confused by his actions. "When did you find out?" Your confusion grew, why was Ransom acting so strange. "What?" He growled and turned to you anger and rage flashing in his eyes. "You fuckin' heard me." You stood up and glared back at him. "I don't know what you're talking about so drop the attitude."
"Get on your knees. Now." His dominance was driving you crazy and you dropped to your knees. He unzipped his pants and you pulled them down and then his boxers. You eyes widened as his cock bobbed out of his pants. It looked like he had been hard for a while due to how much precum was coating the tip of his cock. Before you could even speak he grabbed your hair and made it into a make shift ponytail with his fist.
He stared down at you, and you opened your mouth. He immediately pushed your head all the way down. Your nose burried in his pubes. You gagged around his cock and his groaned, the sound creating a beautiful symphony for your ears. You slurped your salvia down and sucked on Ransoms cock. He closed his eyes and started thrusting in your mouth speaking harshly down at you.
"Gotta fuckin' fill your mouth to stop your fuckin' lies." He continued fucking your throat, groaning everytime there was a small gag. The tightness of your throat almost hugged his cock as good as your cunt. You stared up at him confused and pleading for him to tell you what he did wrong. He looked down at you and spat on your face, glaring at you.
"You fuckin' looked in my night stand didn't you. Saw the fuckin' ring and knew I was gonna pop the question." Your eyes watered both from Ransom face fucking you and the fact he was going to propose. He groaned looking at your face. Tears streaming down it and spit everywhere. You moaned around his cock trying to deny the fact you'd seen the ring, but the vibrations were perfect around the tip of his cock and he came down your throat.
He watched as you drank down his cum, keeping his cock comfortable in your throat until it was soft. He pulled it out and tucked his cock in his boxers and the pants. You looked up at him and spoke with a horse voice, "You were gonna propose?" He rolled his eyes and helped you onto his bed, "Don't play dumb, you knew I was, that's why you said that shit about taking my last name at Joni." You stared up at him with wide eyes. You whispered gently, "I said that because I see a future with you Ransom. I want us to get married."
Silence filled the air, and with a sigh Ransom reached into his back pocket and pulled out a small black velvet box. You breathe got caught in your throat. He opened it and stared at you, the ring was beautiful. A silver band adorned with a diamond in the middle and surrounded by rubies. "Well, take my last name then sweetheart." You smiled and and giggled the sound coming out slightly muted. "Before I put the ring on my finger can you get me a drink of water." He smirked and passed you the glass of water that was on the nightstand next to his old bed.
You gulped and sighed, feeling you throat being more eased up and free from Ransoms cum. "I'd love to be your wife Ransom." With that he slid the beautiful ring on your finger and you attacked him with a kiss.
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lifeissomethingelse · 10 months
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Look what you have done
Summary:Your are Harlan’s favorite maid however you damage one of his books, “luckily” Ransom comes to the rescue…..for a price.
Pairing:Dark!Ransom x Maid!reader
Warnings: Blackmail, Free-Use, Smut, oral, dub-con,non-con, cursing, Degradation, Dominant! Ransom
shit. Shit. SHIT!
You stupid bitch!
You cursed yourself as you try to pick up the soiled draft of harlens new book that you spilled ink all over trying to clean his desk.
“I’m fucking fired, so fired! Fuck!” You thought trying to savage the soiled pages of literature covered in a Black Sea of ink.
You hands began to turn black while your thoughts race about the about of debt you have, the amounts of bills still unpaid, your mothers hospital bills, your fathers funeral bills. You needed this job like you needed air AND. YOU. FUCKED. UP.
Tears start to fill your eyes when you hear the sound of the door fly open. The worst possible person stepped into that door: not Harlan. Not Marta. The one and only over prevliged, asshole Ransom with his famous shit eating grin on his face.
Your eyes widen with shock, there is no way you can talk your way out of this.
His cold eyes look at your ink covered hands and ruined pages of Harlan new book draft.
“Well.Well. Well. What do we have here” he said while slowly closing the space between us. He broad larger frame hovering over me.
Shit. He was like a loin that found a deer with a broken foot. Helpless little prey.
I wipe the tears from your eyes and you watch his cold stares at the mess you made, he makes a exaggerated whistle of distressed.
“Harlan was actually really proud of this…..to bad his favorite maid fucked it up”
Your face brightens with anger, but the smartest thing to do in this situation for you, for your family…was beg. “Please…don’t tell. I-I beg of you, I need this j-“
His figure touches your lips and cuts you off.
“I’ll say it was me.” You heart starting beating fast.
Then it dropped as he continues to talk.
“He can’t fire me, worst case I would get one of his famous lectures”
“But in return….”
His large hand suddenly grabs your waist, causing you to feel his large hard-on against your thigh. You squirm as he finish his sentence.His eyes become dark like he sees through you…at that moment you became his possession.
“You ever heard of free use?”
———————————- ❤️—————————————
That was it. That’s how the got in this postion: on your knees taking out ransoms large hard on.
His large hand pushes your head down as he explains from this day forward your his personal fuck toy. You reluctantly fall to your knees, ready to take your punishment or blackmail. You look up at him. “Asshole”
He grabs your hair tightly making you whimper from pain.
“Watch your fucking mouth and suck my fucking Cock. Or. I. Tell.”
You look into his cold eyes, wanting to get it over with you swallow you pride and start to take his cock out, when he tugged again.
“No. Use your fucking teeth. “
You bite his silver zip and start to pull it down, you then use your teeth to pull down his pants, then his boxers. Your eyes widen. Fuck…
His throbbing member“accidentally” slaps you in the face. It’s long,thick and pulsing full of want.
He laughs as he sees pre-cum smeared on your right cheek.
“Suck it. Or I fuck your throat until your pass out”
You start to lick the tip then down the side of his shaft. Ransom moans in pleasure, putting his head back and gripping your head tighter.
To your own disgust and confusion, you cunt begins to drip.
You swirl your tongue at the tip and begin bobbing your head. You lower your head until the tip hits the back of your throat. “Fuck!”
To your disray ransom starts to roughly fuck your throat with no mercy. All the air in your lungs disappear as ransom takes over your body. Worse…you start to feel closer to your own pleasure. His lewd words made it worse.
“ Fuck I knew you were a good cock sucking whore, I own this fucking throat, I own this fucking cunt” “ I can see my cunt dripping right now”” your getting turned on sucking my big fat cock?”” Just imagine how you would be around my cock, even if it’s to much for you, I’ll fuck you so hard you can’t walk for days.”
You moan at his words, causing vibrations to go through his cock.You feel him getting closer to his bliss, your hands now move lower to your clit wanting to reach your own climax. “Don’t you dare touch my fucking cunt” “I’ll tell you when you can cum”
Degrading. Demanding. Possessive.
It awaken something in you that surprises yourself. You give in…submission
Both hands hold your head completely down on his cock, your nose touches his pubic hair. Split and drool run down from your chin to even dripping on the floor.
“Take. Every. Fucking. Drop.”
He makes a loud animalistic groan pushing his cock all the way down your throat, you look at him. Messy hair. Possessive eyes.
You feel a little pride build inside you for making him feel this good, his baby batter shoots the back of your throat. Tears fill your eyes trying to swallow everything.
He thrusts into your mouth a few times until he pulls out of your mouth. You look at him with watery eyes mixed with fear and arousal.
“This means we are even right?” You say with a sore throat. Your eyes widen when you hear him laugh.
Before you can ask him why he’s laughing, you feel him pick up your body slamming it on Harlan’s desk,in the doggy position. You try to move away as you can expect what’s coming next feeling his hot member pressing against your skirt. He holds you down with one hand while the other rips your underwear off. You yelp. He slaps your ass.
“Your a better cock sucker than I thought, I wonder how will your cunt feel around my big cock”
You start to feel the head of his cock pressing against your wet cunt. He slaps it a few times before asking you one last time.
“ are you gonna take this cock like a good whore?”
You bite your lip. You try to deny you like this.
“Yes sir”
“Good your mine now bitch” he says as he thrusts violently into your wet cave followed by a brutal thrust rhythm. You scream in both a mix of pain and pleasure.
“S-o D-ee-P!!”
Items from Harlan’s desk fall as the desk can barely take ransom’s ruthlessness.
“Take it”.
Like you had a choice.
( This is my first fanfic.)
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the-iceni-bitch · 2 years
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You’ll Never Go Down to the Gods Again
Part II/X
Pairing: dark!Alpha stepbrother Ransom Drysdale x innocent!naive Omega stepsister reader, dark!Alpha Curtis Everett x innocent Omega reader
Words: ~2.8k
Summary: Ransom is already loving how pliable and willing you are to go along with his rules, and introducing you to his friends just cements that feeing.
Chapter Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (exhibition, f receiving oral sex, vaginal fingering, scenting, Alpha/Omega dynamics), hints at some super dark stuff that Curtis is involved in, Alpha!Lance Tucker is an asshole (one use of the R word because it just felt in character him), cruel vibes from all our Alphas, SMUT!!! NO MINORS!!!
A/N: It’s finally here!!! My muse is awake and I hope to be gracing you are with more fics in the future now that I’ve finally had a change to my work schedule. This part is more world building but the next parts will be very much focused on just Ransom and bunny and how they may or may not be developing unhealthy feelings towards each other.
I am no longer doing taglists so if you want to stay up to date on all the latest filth, follow my sideblog @the-iceni-library and turn on notifications!
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“R-Alpha, are you sure?” You bit your lip while you peeked up at him through your lashes, your fingers gripping his sweater against his chest while you curled closer to him as you sat on his lap.
“I would never lie to you, bunny.” He tried not to smirk when you wiggled a little and nuzzled into his shoulder, pressing his lips to your temple and breathing deep of the smell of honeysuckle and jasmine and vanilla and just a hint of something warm and fertile that made up your sweet scent. “I know it seems strange, honey, but that’s why we’re doing it now, so you can get used to it. Your mate isn’t going to want to put up with all these questions and teaching you how to be good once you're bonded, he’s gonna want to breed you and be able to show you off. And I know you want to be good, don’t you, bunny?”
“Y-yes Alpha.” You shivered when he ran his hand up your spine, sitting up and starting to undo the buttons of your blouse even as your hands were shaking. “Want to be so good.”
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“I dunno man, she sounds like a fucking moron.” Ransom frowned at Curtis when he stamped the cigarette out against the side of his building before the three of them headed inside. “Of course, that would make her perfect for Tucker.”
“Don’t be a fucking asshole, Everett.” Lance smacked Curtis’s shoulder when they got on the elevator and flipped the larger man off when he started chuckling. “Seriously, Drysdale, you’re sure she’s not retarded or something?”
“Nope, just sheltered and naive as all fuck.” Ransom grinned and leaned against the wall when they just gave him disbelieving looks. “I’m serious men, that sweet little idiot wants to be a perfect Omega so bad, she’ll let you do whatever you want to her. Linda and that preacher fucked her up. Just tell her it’s something her future Alpha will expect from her.”
“Anything, huh?” The way Curtis licked his lips made Ransom grin.
“Don’t fucking break her, Curt, none of that rough shit you’re into. Want to keep her nice and sweet so she doesn’t run to my fucking mother again.” Ransom winked at his friends when the elevator door opened and they followed him into his apartment. “Scent her, touch her, go nuts. Bunny! Come on out, we have guests!”
Ransom could tell when the full effect of your scent hit them by the way their nostrils flared and the low growl Curtis let out. Then you walked into the room and he could have cackled at the way their pupils dilated and they had to obviously fight the urge to stalk towards you when you struggled to meet their gazes.
“H-hello Alpha.” He sometimes still couldn’t believe you’d actually just accepted that once you were mated and bonded you were going to be expected to constantly be naked when you were at home, but you swallowed it whole. Just thinking about the way you had nuzzled into his shoulder then looked up at him with big innocent eyes before nodding like a good girl and slowly stripping yourself of every bit of clothing was starting to make him hard. And now he got to see every inch of your sweet, soft body all fucking day, like a damn dream. “Do you want me to take your coats?”
“Yes, honey, you’re such a good girl.” Ransom rubbed his nose over your temple and breathed deeply when you came close, purring when you let out a small chirp and brushed your hand over his chest. “Go say hello to our guests, bunny.”
“Yes, Alpha.” You’re voice was so soft and small and contrasted so sharply with how utterly sinful you looked walking around naked, he could’ve kissed himself for having this idea. “Hi.”
“Hey there, sweet thing.” Lance didn’t even notice the questioning look you gave Ransom when his friend put his hand on your waist and pulled you close so he could scent your neck and run his fingers over your hips, the shuddering breath you took when he licked your jaw making him groan. “Can’t believe your asshole brother’s been hiding you away from us.”
“I-I just don’t like going out.” You shivered when you felt the large Alpha’s presence behind you and his warm hands skimmed over your shoulders. “An Omega’s place is keeping the home.”
“Oh, they trained you good, didn’t they, pretty girl?” The bearded Alpha growled when you tilted your head to the side so he could scent your neck, his hands suddenly cupping your breasts and making you whine when you felt a strange sensation shoot through your core. “Fuck, you smell good.”
“Th-thank you, Alpha.” You felt lightheaded from the scent of their pheromones swirling around you, your whole body getting suddenly warm as slick started to leak down your thighs. “Oh…”
“Alright that’s enough saying hello.” Ransom couldn’t keep from grinning when you looked like you were about to pass out, reaching out to steady you when you stumbled a bit after his friends disconnected from you with a pair of low growls. “Such a good bunny, you stay out here in case we need anything, okay honey?”
“Yes Alpha.” You let out a small chirp when Ransom tucked his fingers under your chin and leaned into his touch, steadying a little when he kissed your forehead before moving to sit at the kitchen table and read your book, trying to ignore the heated gazes that were still locked onto you while you settled into your seat.
“Why the fuck do you even leave the house, Drysdale?” Lance licked his lips when he watched you tuck your feet under yourself, cocking his head and taking a slow sip of his whiskey. “Don’t think I’d ever get enough of that view. She lets you touch her too?”
“Whatever I want. That little thing was made for pleasure.” Ransom grinned wolfishly when he peeked at you over his shoulder and saw you gnawing on your bottom lip nervously.
“You fucked her yet?” Curtis kept an eye on you even as he talked to your stepbrother, snorting when Ransom frowned at him and shook his head. “You’re wasting time, you need to do it early if you want to break her in.”
“Told you, not trying to break her.” Ransom caught you glancing at him and gave you a wink that had you burying your face in your book again with a small gasp. “Just having fun.”
“Breaking them in is fun.” Curtis draped himself lazily over his edge of the couch as he grumbled into his bourbon. “You have any idea what most Alphas would be willing to give for the chance to claim some sweet little practically untouched thing like her? Wasted opportunity if you ask me.”
“I’m very aware, my mother likes to remind me of it constantly when she’s scolding me that I need to take care of the golden child.” Ransom just kept giving Curtis a smug grin while he sipped on his drink. “It’s not like I can bring her to your compound, Everett. Pretty sure Linda and the preacher would have a collective aneurysm if their precious girl went missing, or came back completely broken. So unless you have some other idea…”
“Stay here.” The smile Curtis was wearing when he rose from his seat should have maybe concerned Ransom, but he was too intrigued. “Sweetheart, stand up for me.”
“It’s okay, bunny. Curtis is sort of a bond prep expert.” Ransom couldn’t help but be a little proud at how pliable you already were, standing for Curtis with just one wary glance towards your stepbrother before you turned your attention to the massive Alpha. “Be good for him.”
“Yes, Alpha.” You shivered when Curtis reached out to curl his hand around the back of your neck, tilting your face up to his and feeling sudden calm wash over you when he put a small amount of pressure on your mating gland. “Oh…”
“You’re a very good girl, aren’t you?” Curtis grinned and pulled you closer when he felt you relax in his grip, the attention of all three Alphas laser focused on you and the way you were melting under Curtis’s touch when he brought his other hand up to caress your cheek. “Have you gotten used to Alpha commands yet, darling?”
You could only shake your head. Ransom had never used a command on you. He didn’t need to, like they all liked to tell you, you were a very good girl, you always wanted to be. But maybe the mate Linda and your father would pick for you would want to be more dominant. You knew you had to be prepared for anything, Ransom kept telling you.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ll be gentle.” Curtis scented your hair before pressing on your mating gland one more time, letting out a deep growl as his voice took on a low timbre. “Present for me, Omega.”
The whine you let out when you felt your hindbrain urging you to submit had all three Alphas snarling with arousal, the noises from them getting even deeper when you bent over the counter and spread your legs. You were so swollen and slick and pretty and Ransom couldn’t believe that Curtis was the first one who had the idea to get a really good look at you.
“What a good little ‘mega. Gonna make such a perfect mate.” Curtis grinned when you cooed softly, dragging his palms up the backs of your thighs and spreading you open even further. “Once you’re bonded, your Alpha’s gonna want to check this sweet little pussy every day to make sure you really belong to him, that you’re being the good girl he mated and not letting any other Alpha use what’s his.”
“H-how would he check my… my…” You let out another lovely sound when Curtis knelt behind you and shoved fingers from both his hands inside you with no warning. “Oh goodness…”
“Bunny, I’ve told you, you’re gonna have to say the word.” Ransom wanted to crawl over the back of the couch and lose himself in you, your scent was getting stronger while Curtis touched you and it was making Ransom feel like he was lost in a haze. “Ask your question like a big girl.”
“Yes, I’m sorry, Alpha.” You kept your eyes on Ransom even while Curtis was drawing more slick from your aching core, curling your fingers against the stone of the counter and panting softly while he licked his lips and purred at you. “How would he check my… pussy?”
“Oh, there’s lots of different ways sweetheart. Fuck, look at you.” Curtis hooked his fingers and pulled your cunt open so he could get a really good look at you, biting softly at the back of your thigh and groaning when he watched you try to clench around the emptiness. “So fucking gorgeous, you’re gonna spoil whichever lucky bastard bonds you. Don’t think he’s gonna be able to stop himself at just looking. Might have to smell you.”
Curtis swiped his nose over your sex and breathed deeply, burying his face between your legs and growling when you let out another soft whine and your thighs started trembling. The air in the apartment was thick and heavy with the smell of sex as all three Alphas let themselves get lost in you, Ransom and Lance feeling just as enraptured even though they weren’t currently touching you. But they could practically taste you in the air, Ransom didn’t even need to look at Lance to know the man was well on his way to becoming obsessed with you. Not that he could look at Lance, when you were filling his vision and making those perfect sounds and letting Curtis touch your sweet little cunt however he wanted and never taking your eyes off your stepbrother’s.
“Jesus fucking Christ, you’re so good, honey. Bet you’d let me do whatever the fuck I wanted to you and you wouldn’t make a peep.” Curtis grinned when you only moaned in response and arched your back further, your fingers digging into the counter as you breathed heavily. “Best way to check is gonna be taste though.”
“What do you… oh my!” Ransom snarled when your eyes fluttered wildly before falling closed when Curtis plunged his tongue inside you, your body arching back on itself as you rose on your toes and your breath became ragged. He didn’t even notice the sound of breaking glass when Lance’s grip on his tumbler got too tight, digging his fingers into the back of the couch while he kept watching you and feeling like he was ready to fight something just to get closer to you.
“Such a good fucking girl, shit.” Curtis’s voice was muffled as he dragged his tongue all over your pussy, making sure he tasted every inch of you before releasing his grip on your swollen walls so he could squeeze your thighs while he groaned softly.
You couldn’t answer him, you felt like you were about to pass out, strange sensations shooting through your body. Even the noises coming from your throat were foreign to your ears, high pitched and whiny and desperate as you pressed your hips back into the giant Alpha’s face and rolled them to meet his mouth. There was something pooling warm and low in your stomach that made you feel like you were about to scream, but it couldn’t be bad, Ransom would never hurt you, or let someone touch you who was going to hurt you. But still…
“Oh… oh my… what are you… ah!” You felt like you were cresting a massive wave, some massive, pleasurable sensation crashing over you as you screamed wildly and and your whole body sagged into the counter, shaking as you struggled to come back to yourself as Curtis kept sucking on a spot that seemed designed to make you lose your mind. “What… what did you do to me? What was that?”
“What’s wrong, honey, you’ve never come before?” Curtis just chuckled lightly as he rose to his feet, running his hands over your still trembling thighs and cooing when you just answered him with a wretched sob. “Oh shit, you haven’t! Christ, the things I could do to you…”
“That’s enough for now.” Ransom finally felt the spell break and leapt over the back of the couch and caught your other arm when you almost collapsed, pulling you into his chest after Curtis rubbed his nose over your shoulder with a comforting purr and gave Ransom a lascivious wink. “Bunny you did so good, huh? We’re gonna get you cleaned up, baby.”
“Mmm.” You sighed and nuzzled into his neck after giving Curtis a curious look over your shoulder, clutching at Ransom’s arms and curling as close as you could so you could take in his comforting scent while you were still vibrating from the pleasure that had been ripped from you. Ransom tried not to give Curtis too sour of a look when he shouldered past him, but fuck if he hadn’t realized just how untouched you were. And he definitely would have wanted to be the first one to draw an orgasm from your sweet little body if he had known.
“She taste as good as she smells?” Lance turned his phone off and tucked it back in his pocket, grateful Ransom was distracted with you so he didn’t have to get a lecture about getting you on video. “Don’t know how the fuck you managed to hold back, would’ve broken that bitch.”
“Because you’re horrible and have zero self control.” Curtis frowned as he stepped between the entrance to the hall and Lance, who was still looking pretty keyed up, a smirk pulling at the corner of his lips when he heard the shower running and heard Ransom cooing softly at you. “Go bond some easy slut and dump her like you normally would if that’s what you need something to do. As much as I’d love to watch Drysdale beat the shit out of you if you try to move in on his precious new toy, I kinda like her, and you’re a bastard who can’t play nice. This one’s not a pump and dump.”
“Fuck you.” Lance flipped Curtis off as he rose to his feet, calling the lift and frowning at his friend while he waited. “Why don’t you call me when you two are sick of being pussy whipped by some virgin and I’ll show you how you could really have fun with that sweet slice of pussy.”
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ilovefandoms102 · 1 year
Text
Royal Flush-Part 6*
Pairing: Mafia!Ransom Drysdale x Plus Size Reader
Summary: After so much loss, will there be any light in the Drysdale family?
Note: I’m finally back sorry I’ve been MIA I’ve had a lot going on lately. I hope you guys enjoy!
Warnings🛑: mafia!au, soft!dark!ransom, arranged marriage, forced relationship, manipulative relationship, loss of pregnancy, mentions of character death, mentions of firearms, mentions of blood, smut(dom/sub aspects, dubcon/noncon aspects, oral(f), unprotected vaginal sex, spanking)
Part 5
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You’ll never forget the last 72 hours…
Ransom dying, being rushed to emergency surgery when they got a pulse back, 12 hours of surgery only for him to be in a coma for the unknown future. You sat alone in his room after ordering no one to enter, the looks of sadness and pity drove you further to insanity.
The next day, you woke up in a pool of your own blood.
At first, you thought it was a dream, but when Ransom’s nurse came in and gasped at your state, calling in other doctors and nurses that wheeled you to the ER. The doctor said it was common for first time pregnancies to miscarry, but you saw it as another failure.
You lost your precious baby, the only thing you would have had left of Ransom. It was Hector that held your sobbing body that time, then had to watch as you crawled into Ransom’s hospital bed and continued to let the tears fall.
Weeks had gone by, you never left Ransom. Your mother and Hector brought clothes and other necessities. Using the shower in Ransom’s hospital room wasn’t the same as when you got to share showers at home with your husband. Sometimes you sat on the cold tiled floor and wept for hours, the lukewarm water turning ice cold.
“Honey, you can’t sit here like this. There are things that need taken care of.” your father said, but all you could focus on was watching Ransom breathe through that fucking tube.
“He wouldn’t want you like this, I know it’s been hard with the baby-” your father continued.
“I’m not leaving him.” you hissed, keeping your eyes glued to Ransom.
“Y/n-” your father tried.
“I will take care of things, y/n is in no state.” Hector stepped in.
“Thank you Hector,” you whispered, glancing at him with a small, grateful smile.
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“My beautiful love, my only love, god I love you.”
You jolted awake, checking your surroundings as well as Ransom’s monitors. Dreams of those last few moments with your beautiful man haunted you, every night.
Every
Fucking
Night
Wiping at your eyes, you burrowed further into your husband. You still slept at his side, careful not to disturb anything he was hooked up to. Dozing off again, you felt something flutter at your back. You thought it was your imagination until you felt a hand in your hair.
Sitting up sharply, you were greeted with shining blue eyes. Your husband’s eyes. The love of your life. Quickly, you hit the nurse button on his bed.
“Hi baby, hi.” you sobbed, a shaking hand reaching up to stroke his bristly jaw.
He smiled the best he could until a nurse came and carefully removed the tube. You held a straw to his lips as he sipped at a cup of water the nurse brought along. He went through four cups before he could muster the strength to speak.
“You’re even more beautiful than when I last laid my eyes on you.” he whispered, attempting that smirk which had you giggling through tears.
“I love you baby,” you smiled, Ransom reaching up and caressing your cheek.
“I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone on this Earth in my 30 some years.” he professed.
You held his hand on your cheek, loving the feel of his touch.
“How far along are you?” he asked, your smile dying as a sharp pain struck your chest.
“Ransom…” you choked out, fresh tears running down your cheeks.
“No,” he whispered, his own tears shedding.
“I failed you, I-” you cried, Ransom’s hold tightening as he yanked you closer so your nose touched his.
“Stop it,” he growled, using his other arm to wrap around your middle.
“I lost our baby Ransom, our precious baby.” you hiccuped, shoving your face in his neck.
“You could never fail me my love, we can try again.” he murmured gently, his hand on your cheek moving to sift in your hair holding the back of your head.
“I wanted to name him Hugh, after his father. If they were a girl I wanted to name her Riley.” you croaked, crying harder.
“I’m so sorry sweetness,” he whispered, that name you missed so much.
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Ransom was finally able to come home a little over a week later. He loved his wife, but she was running herself ragged hovering over every move he made. His wound had healed from the weeks he was in a coma, now he was working to get his strength back.
He spent lots of time in the home gym, much to his wife’s displeasure. The Franelli family seemed to have backed off for now, but Ransom knew it was only a matter of time before they struck again. He needed to make a statement as the head of their assets now. In his absence, Hector was able to get all of the accounts changed to Ransom and your names. This meant no one but he and his beautiful wife had access to their funds.
Ransom knew like him, the Franelli’s mostly dealt firearms. However, with their income there was no way they only dealt guns and ammunition. It was something much bigger, Ransom had an idea. He didn’t like it one bit, and he knew there was no way to get out of it.
“Honey, you doing alright?” he heard your angelic voice that snapped him out of his thoughts.
“I’d be a lot better you came over and kissed me.” he replied, smirking at the flushed look on your face.
You did as he said and walked the few steps to him, leaned and planted a soft kiss to his lips. Ransom however, was feeling starved. After so long without this, without you, he felt like he couldn’t get enough. So he quickly pulled you to straddle his lap, his hands firmly groping your ass while deepening the kiss.
“Ran-” you mumbled against his lips, attempting to push him away in fear of hurting him.
“Quiet,” he growled, giving a harsh smack to your ass which made you squeal in surprise.
It was safe to say you’d definitely ruined your panties. It had been so long since you and Ransom connected, it was about to drive your poor husband insane. One could say he was addicted to you, but it wasn’t like you minded. In fact, the same could be said for you about him.
“My beautiful wife, fuckin’ made for me.” Ransom grunted, switching so your back was on the bench and he was on top.
Your hands explored his naked back, moving to his chest and down. Reaching around and in, you dug your nails into his luscious ass, pulling him further into you. His teeth nipped playfully at your jaw, moving to trace from the base of your throat and up with his tongue.
“Please,” you whined, your clit pulsed hard as he ground his hips down into yours.
The both of you got naked, Ransom now with his pretty head between your legs devouring your pussy. His tongue laved, twisted and fucked into your wetness. It was almost to much, but you loved every second of it. His hands moved to firmly grip your tits while he feasted, his fingers teasing your peaked nipples.
“Baby, Ransom-” you moaned, holding his hands at your breasts.
“Give it to me.” he demanded, sucking your clit hard.
Your mouth opened on a silent scream, back arching on the bench, and thighs quivering as your orgasm ripped through. It had to easily be the best orgasm you’d ever had. You were still cumming when Ransom abruptly flipped so you were on your feet but bent over, ass in the air and hands on the bench. He shoved his cock hard into you, so deep you could practically feel him in your stomach.
“Jesus, fuck me. So perfect, tight, wet-fuck.” Ransom growled, pulling back before he started fucking the shit out of you.
You never stopped cumming as he fucked you, so it was hard to say if this orgasm was extremely long or it was endless orgasm after the other. Either way, it was fucking fantastic. God you loved this man.
“Look at you, this sweet ass in the air all for me.” Ransom teased, smacking your asscheeks multiple times one after the other.
“I love you so much,” you whimpered, crying out when Ransom tugged a fist full of your hair up so your face was right by his.
“Love you too baby,” he whispered, reaching his hand around and rubbing your clit mercilessly until you found it again.
Ransom went into hyperdrive, cumming hard into you and staying planted. Your chest heaved to catch your breath, turning your chin lightly to kiss Ransom’s jaw.
“Fuck I missed that.” he panted, kissing your lips firmly.
“Mhhmmm,” you hummed sleepily.
“Love when I fuck you so hard you get all sweet and cuddly baby.” Ransom grinned, carrying you up to the room you two shared.
“Shut up,” you grumbled, hearing Ransom’s chuckle as he laid you on the bed.
He crawled over you, kissing every inch of skin he could reach.
“Baby,” you whined again.
“You thought we were done?” Ransom asked, a wicked grin appearing.
You couldn’t help but to smile.
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