#ransom drabble

[eccentricallygothic]

Psycho Husband!Steve Rogers who is a crazed coercive bastard.

Warning(s): Noncon, misogyny/sexism, depraved housewife kink, head shaving/hair cutting, he's a mental mf who thinks he is only doing what's best for you; cruel punishments are care and better sense according to him, age gap, fear kink, infantilization, humiliation, size kink. MDNI. 

. . .

You meekly sit atop your husband, Steve Rogers' lap as he feeds himself and you the dinner you meticulously prepared for him as he cares greatly for detail and perfection. 

The older man hums with each bite, one large paw caressing your back from over the thin -nearly sheer- material of one of the many dresses that make up the entirety of your wardrobe. 

“Absolutely delicious, baby, good job” he has been praising you with each bite and so you cannot help but smile at the compliments, your smaller body resting against his as you gently comb his hair with your fingers.

This is good.

Him being pleased is good.

“Thank you, my heart” you kiss his cheek that he had shaved just this morning when you were on your knees getting rid of his morning wood. He usually does that at night but you chose to wear a certain dress yesterday that caused for you to remain trapped in bed from the moment he got home till the both of you woke up tangled and sticky.

“See?” Now his fingers silkily glide up the length of your spine, past its dents that appear on your nape and towards your scalp that holds no barriers between your skins. “Wasn't I right?” Steve's fingertips flex all over your shiny head that he keeps empty from any hurdle between yourself and him. “Didn't it make things all better for us, hm?” Your tongue grows heavy and you feel it beginning to swell.

But you must not speak your mind.

For you are not allowed to have one.

“Yes, hubby, you were” you feel him stroke the bald crown of your head and the feeling of his coarse skin rubbing your soft and moisturized one sends shivers down your spine. 

His dark but relaxed blue eyes watch you, outwardly friendly but secretly inspecting you closely for the tiniest slip up. “Just too stupid to see it back then, weren't you?”

You nod nervously, offering him a smile as you avert your gaze from his, choosing to awkwardly play with his dress shirt instead. “Yes, hubby, I was.” Before you look up momentarily. He hates it when you don't look at him while speaking. “Thank you for teaching me better.” 

“And what did I teach you?” You bite your tongue, his words scalding your ears. 

Of course, he wants you to say it.

It is a routine that he likes to do every night. 

“That you are always right because you know better.” You resist the urge to cringe from how he suddenly gives you a burst of praise head rubs. 

It is a trap, meant to set you off.

He knows you don't like his hand rubbing your bald head like you're some kind of an animal and he still does it.

You've made the mistake of fighting back one too many times in the past.

But now you know it never fares well for you.

So better to just obey.

“Yeah?” His eyes begin to dance all over your form in that lewd fashion of theirs. “And how did I teach you that?” This is nothing new, and yet your heart drops.

“You taught me by…” Your face becomes hot from the embarrassment and humiliation. “B- By…” Fuck.

Even after all this time, it's no easier to do it. 

“By?” You can feel his sick arousal poke into the back of your thigh. He shifts to readjust himself. “Know what, honey?” He actually has the gall to sound friendly like he's doing you a favor out of the goodness of his heart. “I'll help your little mind out by giving you a hint.” You cannot hold his gaze anymore. So you drop your eyes and train them on his collars as you whimper into his cheek from how he hugs you closer with the arm he has draped around you. He loves proximity. “It had something to do with a machine and a cute head” his long fingers caress your scalp in circular motions.

Your heart is erratic against his chest. “H–” the whimper you let out is shaky and pathetic. Your expression falters into one of pain but you recover just as fast. At least on the outside. “T- Taught me by shaving my head.”

Steve's smirk is one of pride. “Oh? And what setting did I shave it on? Did I leave anything behind or did you become a complete cueball?” 

Tears sting your eyes from the sensitivity and helplessness as you feel your throat tighten even more. “N- No, hubby. Nothing was left. You shaved it all off…” Closing your eyes momentarily is the only way you can let out your next words. “Until I was a cueball.”

“And why was that, huh, baby?” Now he speaks to you like you're a child. 

He does that when he is horny. 

The realization makes your stomach twist.

“B- Because you warned me many times but—” your voice breaks and you softly sob into his cheek all of a sudden because the memories overwhelm you. “I didn't l- listen and my hair kept getting in the food I would prepare for you.” He somberly cooes and lowers your head forwards in a submissive position to caress the links of your spine.

“Oh, honey. Is that what happened?” Though Steve rests his cheek atop your bald head that he keeps shiny with scented oils and feigns sadness his bulge is too stiff against your tender skin for his little act to hold any weight. 

“Yes, hubby.” Your tears fall on your lap. 

“And how did it happen, huh, darling?” He loves the helplessness of your situation. That has got to be it. “Can you tell me?”

You nod and swallow the bile in your throat. Denial is not an option. “The scary razor went all over my head, hubby” you make yourself sound like a baby because that's what he likes. “Like buzz buzz buzz~” you try to mimic the sound and gesture as you run a pretend trimmer over your naked scalp. 

“Aw, it was scary for your little baby self, was it?” You timidly nod, pouting a little. “That's because you're so small and easily scared, aren't you?” He presses kisses all over your head and pinches your cheek. 

“Yes, hubby.” 

“Aw, my poor girl” he cups your face and lets his thumb trace the shape of your mouth. “I get it, you’re just a baby” he cannot but kiss you deeply before speaking again. 

“But it was necessary, wasn't it? And it worked” it is typical of him to seek validation for his unhinged actions from you, probably helps him sleep easier and pumps his pompousness further. “No more hair in the food.” He smiles and forces you to look at him by tipping your head back.

“No more hair in the food.” You echo him like the hollow doll he has made of you.

“Awww” he chuckles at the dejection in your voice. “Cheer up, silly. You look just as perfect as the first moment I laid my eyes on you” his lips repeatedly peck yours for a few moments. Then he continues. “I am the only one whose opinion matters for you and I think you're the most gorgeous thing alive” he scoops you up in his arms before standing up and you give him a smile like you're supposed to. He leans in to capture it in his own. “The cueball only makes you sexier and more nude for me. So it's a win all around” you whimper into the words he utters against your mouth. “C'mon, hubby will make you feel all better.” He whispers before carrying you to the bedroom. It is impossible not to be aware of your devastation and that is why he offers compensation the way he does. “Yeah?”

All you can do is nod defeatedly.

. . .

If you made it down here, hi you're cool. 

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Straight to the Point 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, stalking, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Ransom Drysdale

This AU is called Watcher Anonymous and will include different series for different characters. This is our introduction to Ransom and Grim.

Summary: Ransom's attention strays in an unlikely direction.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Ransom doesn’t like being told what to do. The only thing that made him listen, for once in his life, is that after this, no one will tell him what to do. Not this yammering professor, not his grandfather, and definitely not his mother. 

“Your bag is in the way.” The creased boots stop right beside his messenger bag. 

He looks up at Grim. She never tries to impress him. Just like he never tries to impress anyone either. He doesn’t care what others think but they sure as shit care about what he does. Half the girls in this class trip over their knock-off red bottoms trying to get his attention. Not her. 

“Lift your knees high,” he taunts. 

Her dull eyes meet his. He’s known the most stunning models, ones he sees on covers and runways, he’s even been with a few actresses, but something about those sardonic irises gets him. Just like flat tone of her voice. 

“Fine,” she turns and sits right next to him, shoving her elbow into his arm. 

She never takes his bait. Never feeds into his ego. She won’t even call him Ransom, when she does bother to acknowledge him. 

She takes out her notebook. She opens it to a new page, coloured tabs stuck between the pages. She writes the date in black, then the lesson number, highlighting the latter. She’s orderly in everything she does. He remembers the day she had a cup of tea. Before each sip, she bobbed the bag in the brew three times. It took the whole class to finish the small drink. 

Usually, he’d get up and move. He’s had several novels pitched to him already. He’s not Editor-in-Chief yet and even when he is, these losers aren’t getting published. He just needs this class to make mommy shut the hell up. 

He pushes back against her as she goes to write the lesson title as projected on the idle screen. The ink streaks from his nudge and she growls. She looks at him. 

“You’re taking up a lot of space.” 

Nothing else. There’s not a note of annoyance in her voice, it’s just a fact. She fishes in her bag and finds a bottle of white out. Who even uses that? 

She doesn’t give a damn what people think. She just does these things without a single care. She wears beat-up boots with checkered wool and has a flip phone straight out of the millenia. 

He watches her but she doesn’t notice. She’s not like anyone he knows. Not like him either. He’s only ever known spoiled brats and those who try to pretend to be the same. It’s all so boring and surface level. 

“Hey, can I borrow your notes?” He asks as she writes out the lesson title. 

She just shakes her head. Most would say yes as a courtesy; because it’s the decent thing to do. She doesn’t. 

He reaches over and plucks her highlighter off the lap desk. She just as quickly snatches it back. She doesn’t look up, just keeps her focus on the page. 

“That’s not yours.” 

“How about an extra pen?” He asks. 

She shakes her head. 

“I’ll even use the pink one.” 

No. She rejects him again. He doesn’t take notes. He gets that guy with the idea about ancient superheroes to email his. 

He hasn’t cracked her yet. He wants to. He thinks about it often. Especially when he’s alone. 

He keeps his knees wide even as he feels himself twitching. He could be full-stock and she wouldn’t notice. He imagines if she did though. Would she be so straight to the point? ‘You’re hard.’ 

He bites his lip. She stares at the front of the room then checks her watch. The professor leans on the podium and chats with one of bubbly grads who tried to get him to go out for drinks. It’s two minutes past the hour. Her sigh makes him shudder. 

Fuck. He shouldn’t think she’s so hot. Really. Look at her. There’s nothing special about her. Not at a glance. 

Straight cut pants, a jacket he’s certain was pre-owned by suburban mom in the sixties, and a scowl that never quite leaves her lips. He wonders how hard he’d have to fuck her to make her smile, or at least scream his name. Not Hugh, but Ransom. 

He pushes his legs wide as his dick presses against his boxers. His foot hits hers. She clucks and kicks the side of his loafer. He chuckles. 

“Got long legs,” he says playfully. 

No response. All those other women talk, talk, talk. Not Grim. She’s perfect. And if he brought her home, his mom would shit her pantsuit. In due time. Once he has the power. 

He just needs to get through this stupid fucking course. As if he doesn’t know what he’s doing. There are some things you’re born into. The family business is one of them. 

The professor begins at last. Ransom’s as unimpressed as grim as she clicks her tongue. He knows what she’s thinking; finally. He has stuff to do. Places to follow her to. 

She works at the newspaper. A dying business. When he gets his rightful seat, he’ll get her a real job. Besides, all she does is fold the newsprint. She gets paper cuts from it but never seems bothered by them. 

The only other place she goes is her apartment, or other classes, sometimes to the grocery store or some boring thing like that. For the most part, she stays home. Ransom was never that type. It intrigues him. He always wonders what she does when she’s alone. He tried to climb her fire escape and nearly broke his neck when the ladder broke. 

He needs to figure that out. He outsources everything else; notes, meals, even his laundry. He can find someone to help him out. Maybe a PI? Just for some good advice. His mother used to hire them to follow employees trying to unionize. That’s where he gets his smarts. 

He leans back and stretches, the lecture nothing but a drone in his ears, and unthinkingly spreads his arm across her chair. The poke in his ribs makes him recoil. He looks at her as she goes back to writing. He rubs his side and laughs quietly. 

Oh, he will get her back. 

[darkmasterlistyouneveraskedfor]

The Backwoods AU

A Special Sort of Craving (Lloyd Hansen, The Gray Man)

The Detour (Thor, MCU)

The Stranger (Chris, Destroyer)

Forget-Me-Not (Loki, MCU)

The Farmer’s Daughter (Walter Marshall, Night Hunter)

The Rebound (Curtis Everett, Snowpiercer)

Second Best (Lee Bodecker, The Devil All the Time)

Crossed Wires (Andy Barber, Defending Jacob & Cole Turner, Ghosted)

Daddy Lesson (Rafe Cameron, OBX, Outer Banks)

All Things End (Arvin Russell, The Devil All the Time)

THTH (Ransom Drysdale, Knives Out)

Called To Duty (Captain Syverson, Sand Castle)

Unmanageable (Pete Brenner, Pain Hustlers)

A Place in the Sun (Nick Fowler, The 355)

[jordanstrophe]

CW: Kidnapped, restrained, gasoline, threat of immolating, ransom

The scent of gasoline was overwhelming.

"You don't- You don't have to do th-this," Whumpee choked. They were forced to their knees, hands bound to a latch on the floor. Their heart pounded, not able to see what whumper was doing behind them.

"Now now, let's not be that way." Whumper poured liquid over whumpee's head as they practically shouted as the cold ran down their spine. They had to hold their breath as the smell of gas and oil was suffocating.

"I know you don't deserve this." Whumper said, pouring out the last drop. "But if your caretaker brings me what I've asked for, you'll be just fine. You'll go free, and after a shower and change of clothes, this will alllll be over." They carelessly tossed the can to the side as whumpee flinched at the noise.

"All of th- this.... F-fo-for wh- a -at" Whumpee choked out their own words.

"Hey hey hey, don't pass out on me. Shhhh, deep breaths. I want you awake when caretaker comes. It helps with the persuasion, especially if you're crying and all." They pinched at a strand of whumpee's hair and felt gasoline seep between their fingers.

They sat next to them and cupped their jaw, making them face the door. Whumpee's heart nearly stopped beating when they heard a gentle *flick* of a lighter being ignited overhead.

"They'll be here any second now." Whumper whispered in their ear.

"Let's hope for your sake that's the case, anyway."

[bigtreefest]

Details

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Reader

Summary: Ransom can’t help the way he pays such close attention to every detail regarding you

Word count: 1,081

Content/warnings: very sappy Ransom, no dialogue, ransom’s internal monologue?, references to intimacy, kisses, lots of timeline switching? (Flashbacks and returns to present)

A/N: Below is the song which inspired this fic. It’s been a longtime favorite and I think it definitely fits the summer vibes

I guess we can call this a part of my summer celebration! It’s a vacation at a beach house, and probs an equal partnership? Based off a song. Yeah, I make the rules.

Anyway, comments, likes, reblogs, and asks are so appreciated. Thank you for reading!!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Main Masterlist

Ransom didn’t really have a name for this feeling, despite his vast vocabulary. The main reason was that he had never really felt it before, so how could he be sure? It was definitely beyond the simplicity of the lust he had felt on several occasions. Was it admiration, adoration? Whatever it was, he was sure it went both ways from the crooked smile you gave him as you stretched in the dim morning light.

After a week of your getaway, it was the last morning the two of you were waking up in his family’s coastal home. He loved the way the rays coming through the curtains graced your face, especially today, as you laid tangled in the sheets of the king-sized bed.

The past week had been filled with relaxation and enjoyment each day. Beach picnics, sunbathing, swimming, and…other…enjoyable…things. Those were his favorite. He was desperate to get to that, but not desperate in the moment, where he was worshipping you and your body, and every little thing that he could commit to memory. He never wanted to forget this time; it was simple, with no deadlines, no responsibilities besides each other, although he’d never call you a chore. You were a pleasure. One he was sure he didn’t deserve.

Ransom watched closely as you sat up, the sunshine creating a crown around your head and hair. He couldn’t help but notice you. All he saw was you.

His entire life, Ransom had always noticed the details. That was his strength: little things no one else picked up on, and they were all around him, but honestly, when he was looking at you, he couldn’t tell you anything going on in the background: what he had planned for today, or what he’d done before you woke up the day before.

When you’d gone out to eat at that one restaurant, the one that he thought probably had an ocean view, he couldn’t remember, he wouldn’t be able to recall a single song that had played during dinner.

What he does remember, though, is everything about you that night. The way the sea salt in the air from the long day had added a little extra wave to your hair- tightened the coil, how your skin glowed from the golden hour sunset shining through the glass by the table, the way you got a little tongue-tied after you shared your third glass of wine, which the waiter so rudely interrupted your story to ask if you wanted. No one deserved to stop your beautiful voice from talking, not even Ransom, and especially not the weirdly kind young man pouring the bottle. What was the waiter so nice for, anyway? That quickly left Ransom’s mind, though, attention switching to something much more important. He was completely focused, just not on the usual, external things. There were different details his brain favored these days.

Ransom had visited the coastal home since he was young, playing with the neighbor’s kids while his parents were off doing who knows what. Now, he couldn’t care enough to retain the name of the guy who lives next door. That sort of information was trivial when there was someone else who he would’ve rather had take up every corner of his mind.

That night after dinner, he couldn’t keep his eyes off you in the car, stealing every glance he could without veering off the road. Hundred dollar bills could be falling from the sky and he wouldn’t even notice, which carries its weight when all that Ransom’s ever valued, all that’s ever been steady in his life, is money. That was until you and whatever feeling you were giving him for the first time. It was as if he finally hit the threshold of realization to what’s been creeping up on him this whole time.

Upon your return to the beach house, the two of you laid in bed, cuddled up close as the light from the TV playing late night talk shows danced across the bedroom. You were tucked up into his side, your head on his shoulder as one hand crossed his body and rested on his hip, his one arm doing the same to you as the other tangled in your hair, gently massaging your scalp. He watched as your eyelids fluttered shut, heavy with tiredness of the day and comfort in his hold. Another moment to be savored: your absolute trust in the security of his arms. He smiled to himself as you mumbled in your sleep, studying every little quirk of your lips, every barely intelligible word he could catch, not judging, but committing to memory.

In another life, Ransom would’ve tried to deny that you were any more than just another girl, but there was no use. He was too far gone. Finding ways to surprise you, shower you in gifts, and all the quality time you asked for. Whatever you could desire, really, it was yours, and he had no business withholding from you. His heart wouldn’t allow him.

Ransom was in tune with everything you were doing right now. He pushed aside the thoughts of the week’s earlier memories with you for a second, and cleared everything else nonessential from his mind. He only needed space for what was going on currently. He observed as you scooted closer to him, pushing aside the pillows that were often just so as you slept. Absorbed the way your head tilted to the side at that certain angle when you were leaning in, just about to kiss him. He surely didn’t want to miss it as he closed his eyes and let you fall into him, tongues dancing in an amatory rhythm. So in sync, so naturally that he didn’t care about anything else. Every detail was something he wanted to devote his attention to; memorize and hold onto forever.

Yeah, he should probably get up and make you your coffee. How he loved to see you stir it, just the simplest task, but this felt more pressing. The warmth in his chest from your touch, the way your kisses filled his lungs with light, with life. How your fingertips traced up and down his chest, tucking into the waistband of his boxer briefs. He shuddered at the sensation, at what even your gentlest touch could do to him. Breakfast could wait. You offered enough to feed his soul forever. This feeling? The new wholeness? It was love.

Bonus A/N: Soft!Ran. I only know him. Could you imagine a nice little rainy day in bed, looking out the window at the coast?🥺

Taglist: @hawkeyes-queen @ronearoundblindly

[babyjakes]

〈 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. 〉

event | kinkmas 2023

prompt | mutual masturbation

pairing | best friend!ransom drysdale x reader

warnings | very innocent!reader, bordering on little!reader. soft!ran <333 specifically soft for reader. ddlg undertones tbh (no use of the word daddy but ran is daddy af and also tells reader to "be a big girl" multiple times.) reader is having orgasm troubles/anxiety. mutual masturbation (clit rubbing, jerking off through pants.) subtle humiliation vibes (not verbalized.) praise and encouragement. delayed orgasm. he steps in and helps/finishes her off. he also comes in his pants lol. they come together! :D

word count | 886

it all starts when he overhears you on the phone with your friend, admitting you’ve never been able to make yourself come 😭

it somehow leads to him laying you out on your bed, tugging playfully at your jean shorts. “c’mon, baby. i promise, i wont make it weird. i just wanna help you”

and he’s your beeeest friend, your very best friend in the whole wide world, and you know he’s got plenty of experience and knowledge when it comes to this sort of thing, so you try to swallow down your humiliation and go along with it

he kneels attentively in front of you as you rest back against your pillows, shyly pulling off your bottoms. he chuckles sympathetically at your cute little pastel panties with your favorite cartoon characters on them. if it were any other girl, he'd probably make fun of them, but you've always been a sweet innocent baby in his eyes so he can't help but find it endearing 💕💕

"c'mon, cutie. don't be shy, it's just me" you try to remember that he's right; it's just your ran, your safe, wonderful ran, who you've known your whole life

you squeeze your knees together as you pull off your panties. ransom's surprisingly patient with you, "let me see, silly. can you show me how you've been doing it? i can't help unless i know what the problem is"

it takes a bit more coaxing before your knees finally fall to either side of you, revealing your perfect little petals which instantly have ran giving you the biggest heart eyes 🥺💖 "oh baby, you're so pretty down there. aww, are you a little wet, sweetheart? it's okay, don't be embarrassed" as you're squirming softly in front of him

your hands are so clumsy as you try to figure out where to even begin. he's right: you're wet (though you swear this isn't turning you on!!!) your fingers fumble around as you lamely begin poking and prodding at your leaky hole

ran raises an eyebrow at you, not sure whether or not you're playing dumb or just really this clueless. "that's it?" he asks in disbelief, clearly not impressed. you sigh, trying not to hide your face in your hands from embarrassment. "what about your clit?" noticing how you immediately grow more squirmy at his question, he calls your bluff- "come on, y/n. be a big girl and show me" 🥲🥲

you finally bring one hand up to begin rubbing carefully over your little button. you fail to hold in a soft gasp at the sudden rush of pleasure, earning a smile from the man sitting in front of you. "there you go. keep going, princess," he encourages you

as the warm, fuzzy feelings grow, you find the courage to spread yourself out a little with your other hand, giving you better access to your swelling bundle of nerves. ran's grin grows as he watches it growing and pulsating beneath your rubs

"shit, sweetheart. so fucking cute when you play with yourself like that," he curses softly, bringing one of his own hands down to begin palming himself through his pants. seeing him getting worked up by you only turns you on more. you don't even notice when your juices begin leaking down onto your bedsheets 🥲

you become more vocal, holding back fewer of your sweet little moans and whimpers. the noises you're making are clearly driving ran crazy, his pace over his impressive bulge quickening as his face flushes red. "fuck, just like that. keep rubbing that pretty little button for me, baby. look at you, you're fucking soaked"

your fingers grow faster over your throbbing clit, your breaths becoming more labored as you feel pressure beginning to build in your tummy. as soon as you recognize what's about to happen, a familiar sense of doubt hits you as your motions begin to falter. "r-ran," you choke out, big eyes looking up at him for help.

he's immediately leaning down with a worried look on his face, quickly recognizing the problem. "no, no baby, it's okay," he tries to cheer you on, "just keep going, you're almost there"

"can't do it," you frown as your poor clit twitches helplessly after being abandoned so abruptly

"yeah you can, come on. let me help," you can't even think to speak up or stop him before he's reaching down, using his own fingers to resume the stimulation. for whatever reason, you lay back and take it. "spread yourself open for me, sweetheart. just like you did before, there," he hums in approval as your hands fumble to do as he instructed. he keeps his pace steady over your hardened nub, watching as you quickly near the edge once more

"now come on, baby. be a big girl and come for me," with him towering over you, one hand gripping himself shamelessly through his pants while the other works your burning button just right, he's able to coax an orgasm out of you with just a simple command

"there it is, that's my girl," he's beaming proudly as you're finally given your release. the sight of you losing control under his simple touch and order is too much for him to handle; he comes right there in his jeans with a loud groan 😌

[thezombieprostitute]

What’s a super low key activity or the like that Ransom actually loves but would never admit to? 🤣

Ask based on this post.

"What are you doing?" you ask Ransom as you see him making marks in his notebook.

He quickly shuts the notebook, "nothing! It's nothing. Forget you saw anything."

"Oh, now I'm even more interested! And you know what that means."

Ransom sighs. "It means you're never going to let it go and you will figure it out eventually, regardless of how well I try to hide it."

"You've learned well!" you beam.

"You're a gremlin."

"Your gremlin," you counter.

Ransom pulls you into his lap and opens up his notebook. It's filled with doodles and drawing exercises.

"Growing up, if I wasn't good at something that I wanted to do, I was put into classes that killed all the fun of the activity. Kick a ball just for fun? Suddenly I've got a personal trainer working with me on everything soccer. Pick up a stick to pretend play it's a sword? Next thing I know I'm in fencing courses. Drawing was something I could hide."

You coo in sympathy and gently caress his cheek. "I'm so sorry, Ran."

He shrugs. "Nothing to be done for it, now."

"Well, I can promise to not only keep your secret, but also encourage you to never be afraid to draw around me."

He smiles gently at you. "That does sound nice. Maybe, someday, I'll be good enough to draw you."

"And if not, that's okay," you reassure. "You don't have to be good at something to enjoy it."

Tagging: @alicedopey; @delicatebarness; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @irishhappiness; @kmc1989; @lokislady82; @peaches1958; @ronearoundblindly; @thiquefunlover63

[hanasnx]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He snickers while you whine scoldingly, “Rans!”

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

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

[late-to-the-party-81]

Delirious Decisions

AN: Thank you for tagging me @mercurial-chuckles in your Delirious Decisions. I’ve kept all the same prompts, but gone with some of my own pair ups. I’ve written a little something for each prompt, some as short as 200 words and some as long as around 900.

Some of my entries are little drabbles for some of my established pairings, but some are new and in fact three are set in Avengers Tower with a new reader insert who is an Avenger of currently unknown skills, nicknamed Pipsqueak by the team because of how short she is.

Ratings vary from G to E, but all are labelled. For some stories I haven’t specified the pairing at the start because I want the end reveal to be a surprise (but none of these stories include smut).

I hope you enjoy.

These are all un-beta’d and dividers are by @firefly-graphics and me.

Masterlist

Cuddle in a storm with 🛏️

Reader x Bucky Barnes. Rated T. Fluff and suggestive language. 230 words.

A gust of wind sent the raindrops hammering against the window, loud enough to startle you from your light doze. The arm around your shoulder tightened and a loving voice crooned in your ear. “It’s just the rain, Doll. Relax.”

You turned your head back into Bucky’s chest, nuzzling against his red henley. “‘M totally relaxed. How long’s i’ ‘posed to last?”

“Well into tomorrow. And we’re not supposed to go outside in it, unless we absolutely have to.”

Somehow you pressed your body even closer to the human furnace that was your boyfriend. “‘M not going anywhere.”

Bucky chuckled. “You’re not going to leave the couch? What are you going to do when I go to bed then?”

You let out a displeased grunt. “‘Kay. The couch or the bed.”

“Good,” he declared, decisively. “Because I would’ve been lonely all on my own.” Without warning he stood up, scooping you up as he did and you squeaked in shock.

“Bucky! Where are we going?”

“I want to go to bed,” he answered as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“But ‘m not tired!”

“I never mentioned sleep, Doll. There’s more things to do in bed than that, as you well know.” He grinned at you and you felt the heat rising up your neck. “Kiss me, sweetheart,” he continued. “Keep me safe from the storm.”

Accidentally send a spicy text to 😳

Reader (Pipsqueak) x ? Rated T. Suggestive themes. 400 words

“Clint!” You really wanted to screech, but part of you recognised you still needed to maintain a modicum of discretion. You came to a skidding halt next to the blonde archer and he took in your distressed state.

“What is it, Pip?”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m not that short,” you hissed. “And this is an emergency.”

With a raised brow, he hopped up onto the counter. “An emergency, huh? What sort of thing counts as an emergency in your world?”

You resisted the urge to bite out something scathing - that wouldn’t help, given the circumstances. “You know I’ve been seeing this guy, yeah?”

“Nathan, right?”

“Right. So things have been going… alright.” You couldn’t help but wring your hands.

“Only alright? I’m sure you deserve more than ‘alright’, kiddo.”

“Yeah, so that’s what I was trying to do - make it more than ‘alright’, by sending him a message to… you know… let him know…”

“Oh!” Clint’s eyebrows almost shot into his hairline. “You ‘sexted’ him, didn’t you. Didn’t know you had it in you, Pip. But what’s the emergency? Did your ‘freak’ scare him off? If so, he’s not worth it.”

“No… it’s that… Oh God, it’s so embarrassing.” You buried your head in your hands, trying to hide, before blurting out “Isentittothewrongperson.”

His eyes widened even further. You were worried they were going to jump out of their sockets. “Which wrong per- Oh. Oh!” In two seconds flat he’d gone from sharing your worry to falling sideways on the counter in hysterical laughter.

“Don’t laugh!” You smacked him on the thigh with the back of your hand. “What do I do?”

Suddenly a sultry voice sounded from the corridor outside the common room. 

“Kotenok! Where are you? I have some of those things you wanted to try.”

You squeaked and turned on your heel, shooting out the side door, Clint’s laughter still ringing in your ears.

A few moments later, Nat walked into the kitchen and settled on one of the bar stools next to Clint’s mostly horizontal body. “Are you gonna stop laughing?” she asked him. Clint drew in some ragged breaths and sat up, the evidence of his tears of amusement marking his face. “When you stop teasing her. She thinks you really thought the message was for you.”

Nat’s expression morphed into faux shock. “You mean it wasn’t?”

And they both burst out laughing again.

Get stuck in a "there’s only one-bed" scenario with Kiss and some 💋 🥵

Ari and his Angel. Rated M. Suggestive language and fluff. 400+ words

You looked at the bed, a little shocked and, if you were being honest, a little embarrassed. Yes you were a grown up, and did grown up things with other grown ups, but it felt weird that your parents were also aware — and accepting — of that. 

You turned to your mom who was standing in the doorway. “So, umm, are both Ari and I in here?” You side-eyed the queen-sized bed, which had been plenty big enough for you as a teen, but looked very small now when you considered both you and Ari fitting in it together.

“Well,” your mom replied with a hint of mischief in her eye, “unless you can magically create another spare room, or you’re willing to sleep on the sofa — because let’s face it, your boyfriend won’t fit on it — you are, indeed both in here. Just remember, there are other people in this house, and some things ought to stay private.”

Behind your mom you heard Ari cover a snort with a cough, but you couldn’t glare at him without her seeing, so you just smiled and considered the torture you’d be in for tonight.

—----

Ari’s lips kissed a trail across your shoulders, his nose nudging the thin straps of your pajama top to the side. His large body was curled up behind you, a tell-tale hardness poking at your ass.

“Ari, quit it.” You slapped at the arm wrapped around your waist, but both of you knew it was half-hearted. Nonetheless, he stopped his sensual exploration.

“You really mean that, Angel? You want me to lie here, next to you, and not touch you. You want me to torture us both?” God, you could almost hear the pout in his voice. 

“But you heard my mom. She was basically telling us that the walls are like paper. My parents knowing I have sex is bad enough, but them hearing it? I think I’d just die.”

The hand around your waist started to move, drawing light circles on your skin where your top had ridden up. “We’d just have to make sure you’re quiet, then.” He pressed his lips to your shoulder again, just once, leaving the ball in your court. He knew you needed him as much as he craved you. Several heartbeats of silence and then you were turning in his embrace and hooking your leg over his hip.

“I hope you’re ready to be covered in bruises from where I have to bite down to keep myself from crying out.”

He dipped his head and rubbed your noses together. “Angel, I’ll wear them with pride.”

Admire from behind (if you know what I mean) 🍑

There’s only one answer here. A little snippet of the Captain and his Brat. (I love you, then I hate you) Rated M. Mentions of corporal punishment in a D/S relationship. <300 words

Meetings were never your favourite thing - were they anybody’s? - but one thing that made it all worthwhile. Walking out after Steve. It would obviously have been better if he’d been wearing his tac suit, but his tan slacks did sterling service too, highlighting one of his best physical attributes. As he strolled down the corridor ahead of you, going over some of the points of the meeting with Rhodey, you decided to take in the view. God, your fingers itched to grab those two muscular globes and squeeze them. Give them a smack, or even sink your teeth into them. And then, if you did, what would Steve do to chastise you and put you in your place. You felt a rush of arousal pool in your core and you stumbled a bit as you walked. In front of you, you realised the exact moment Steve caught wind of your state, because there was a hitch in his own step and, without breaking his conversation, he glanced back over his shoulder at you and gave you a knowing look. You shivered at the heat contained within it.  

Steve and Rhodey came to a stop outside of the latter’s office, which gave you a chance to slip by them, but as you did, you couldn’t resist it. Careful to make sure no-one else saw, you gave Steve’s right buttock as strong a squeeze as your hand could manage. He let out a little cough as his only reaction, and you smiled to yourself as you continued past, wondering how your Captain would respond, in the name of keeping you in line…

Push down the stairs (Oh, boi😏) 🪜

Reader x Ransom (Yesterday’s Dream, Tomorrow’s Nightmare, Never-ending nightmare) Rated M. Prior kidnap, prior rape, basement wife, non-con collaring, violence. <500 words

All you had to do was wait for your moment. From the moment you’d been brought here, you knew that if you bided your time, then a way of escape would eventually present itself. You’d given up fighting days — weeks — ago. Ransom was going to do what he wanted, and you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of breaking you over and over. Making him think that you were weak and resigned to your fate would work in your favour at some point. You had to hold on to that belief. The collar around your neck chaffed, but if your luck held, then it wouldn’t be long until you could discard the hated piece of leather. 

He had been fooled by your act once before, until he’d brought the other man — Ari — who’d seen right through your facade, but after that night you hoped that both men thought you were broken down. Your belief was bolstered by the fact that Ransom had started to let you out of the basement and into the house proper. It was always at night, when he’d sent his housekeeper and chef home, but it still allowed you to get a better idea of your surroundings. This evening he’d decided that he wanted to watch football on the frankly vulgar sized television while you cock-warmed him, first with your mouth and then with your cunt, until he tipped you forward onto the carpet and finished inside you. Now it was time for him to return you to your prison for the night.

You followed him, eyes downcast, as he led you back to the door. When he turned his back to you, so he could unlock the door, your breath caught in your throat, anticipating the right moment. You’d only have one chance. As the basement door was pulled wide, but before Ransom could step away from it, your arms shot out, all of your body weight put behind them. You shoved him. Right between the shoulder blades. The moments stretched into an eternity as you watched him wobble and hoped that it would work. His cry of surprise rent the air and his arms pinwheeled. One hand caught on the door frame, and without a moment’s hesitation you pushed him again, screaming your fury at him.

Ransom’s foot slipped and his balance faltered and in the next instant he was tumbling down, landing at the bottom with a sickening thud which morphed into an unnatural silence. You turned on your heel, running through the house towards the front door. There, on a side table, was a bowl containing car keys. You scooped them up and ran out of the front door. You clicked the remote, trying to identify which car they belonged to — there were several lined up under a carport. Lights flashed in the darkness and you ran towards them and your freedom.

Ruin in the best way possible 😈

I’d say ‘poor Joaquín’, but I don’t think he’s finding it too bad… (Ojos Asi) Rated E. Sexual Content, inc edging and mild bondage. 150+ words

“Dios! Mi sol!” You straddled Joaquín, your hips undulating as you rode him. Beneath you, your boyfriend’s arms strained against the leather cuffs binding his wrists to the headboard. How had you gotten so lucky to have a man like this? A man who looked so beautiful as you took him apart. After securing him, you’d teased his body with your fingers, lips and tongue, taking him into your mouth as he’d arched under your touch. You’d chuckled to yourself when he’d sworn out a litany of Spanish the second time you’d brought him to the edge, but refused to let him tumble over. However, you had promised him that the third time would be the charm. You held onto his thigh and rested your other hand on his chest as you moved, grinning down and taking in the view. Sweat sheened on his skin, his hair was delightfully mussed and his eyes almost black with desire. And you couldn’t wait to do it all again.

Invade the dreams of 💤

Reader x ?. Rated M. Pining, psychic powers, accidental mind invasion, implied smut. <900 words

It had started out as an accident. Your psychic powers were fairly new to you, having only started to manifest, sporadically, in your late teens. However, it hadn’t been more than a minor convenience until about six months back, when you found yourself accidently getting caught up inside other people’s heads. It had been frightening, for both you and the person concerned and you’d had a few close scrapes when some folk had followed up that fear with violence. Luckily for you it had only taken a few calls to SHIELD for someone to take you seriously, and you’d ended up here, in Avengers Tower, where you would have the space and help you needed to get your powers under control.

You’d mainly been working with Wanda and Loki — they were the ones best placed to help you — but you also spent time with all of the others. They were a nice bunch of people, all of them strong but damaged in their own ways. It made you feel as though you belonged. However, with one person in particular, that regard morphed into something else — a big fat crush.

Whenever you saw him, your breath caught in your throat and your heart started to beat that little bit faster. He was so charming. So strong and self-assured. Whenever you were alone you couldn’t help but think about him, wondering how it would feel to be held in his strong arms. To be kissed by his plush lips that always seemed to wear a smile. It therefore wasn’t a surprise to you when you started to dream about him.

Night after night, your subconscious made him the focus of your fantasies. Not all of them were x-rated, but a lot were, and you’d wake in sweat, an ache between your legs. How were you supposed to look at him in the light of day, with all these sordid thoughts spinning in your mind? And when you realised he seemed to be avoiding you, you couldn’t work out if that made it all better or worse. Yes, you didn’t have to see the sparkling blue of his eyes or the way sweat sheened on his muscles when he walked past after spending time in the gym, but a lack of contact during the day seemed to make your mind yearn for him more in the night. Your mentors noticed that you were withdrawn and made gentle enquiries, but how could you tell them the thoughts you were having?

A pounding on your door jerked you out of sleep — out of the latest erotic dream. You wiped your hand down your face before staggering to your feet. It couldn’t have been some massive emergency — FRIDAY would have notified you if it was — but you wondered who could want you at three twenty-seven am on a Wednesday morning.

You pulled the door open with more force than you meant, only to stop as you saw him there. Bare chested, breathing heavily, blonde hair all sleep-mussed and an unignorable tent in his pants. 

Thor.

As soon as he saw you he appeared to change his mind, making to step away without saying a word, until you grasped his wrist in your own small hand.

“Wait! What are you doing here? Why did you wake me?” How were you being so brave? You wanted to hide, to quake in your slippers, but the ache within you seemed to be pulling you forward. Onward.

Immediately he crowded through your door, kicking it shut behind him and cupping your face in his hands.

“Why are you doing this to me?” he asked, his voice almost cracking from suppressed emotion.

“Doing what?” you replied, confused.

“Invading my dreams, little one. It’s maddening. I think that I have you in my arms and then I wake to find it was just a fantasy. I yearn for you, night after night. I am distracted by it. I need it to either be real or for it to stop. Do you understand? I can’t—”

Your jaw dropped open and your head spun. Had you been meeting Thor night after night in the dream-plane. Differing emotions clashed within you. Guilt at having invaded his mind in such a way, but also hope, because from what he was saying he wanted the reality as much as you did.

“I—” you started suddenly unsure how to answer. How did you tell a literal god that you burned for them? That you wanted them more than could be reasoned?

Thor let out a dejected sigh, apparently taking your silence for rejection. For the second time he made to move away and you were spurred out of your stupor and into action. You threw yourself forward, lurching up onto your toes to throw your arms around his neck and press your lips against his. You couldn’t tell him what you were thinking, but you could show him.

For a heartbeat he didn’t respond, but then his arms wrapped around your waist and he pressed you up against the wall of your room. His lips moved over yours, before his tongue demanded entry. You moaned into his mouth and bucked your hips against him, your dream induced ardour flaring back into life and enabling you to whisper out your need.

“Make it real. Please.” 

Fake a relationship with for drama 🎭

Reader x ? Rated T. Shenanigans. <500 words

“I can’t believe you’re sleeping with him,” Wanda hissed in your ear as you leant against the bar and watched the other Avengers circulating around the ballroom, shaking down the great and good for more donations to Peppers current charity. 

“What’s not to believe,” you responded with a coy smile, not removing your gaze from the object of Wanda’s surprised outrage. “He’s handsome, he’s amusing, he’s got the skills.”

“He’s a murderer!” Wanda’s voice was less of a hiss now, and a few of the people near-by turned at her outburst. It was hard to hold back a grin. 

“Wanda, half the people in this room could be given that same label, depending on your outlook. And it’s not like he was in his right frame of mind.” Sensibly, your friend didn’t respond to that. The pair of you stood in silence a little longer until you downed the last of your drink and firmly placed the glass down. Straightening your spine you strode across the room, coming up behind him and placing your hand on his shoulder, and revelling in the feel of his velvet jacket against your palm.

“Excuse me, gentlemen.” Three heads turned in your direction, eyes of blue, brown and green. “Would you mind if I stole this one away? I have a hankering for a turn around the dance-floor, and this one is rather nimble on his feet.” Without waiting for a response, you looped your arm through his and drew him away. As you made your way to the space in front of the band, you could feel the incredulous stares of Steve and Tony behind you.

“Darling,” your companion whispered in your ear, “I believe we’re making a scene.” 

It was true, from the corner of your eye you could see people beginning to notice the pair of you. Your left hand went to his shoulder as his right rested on your waist, and your other hands joined together.

“They’re probably wondering if you’re going to corrupt me, or whether I’m going to reform you.” Suredly, Loki began to lead you around in time to the music.

He chuckled, low and silky. “I think it’s entirely possible for both to occur. However, what I can’t understand is how all of the others think you’re this meek and mild goody two-shoes. You’re living for this drama as much as I.” He dipped you, and it was difficult to suppress a full-blown belly laugh. “Minx,” he grinned at you. “How long until we can unsubtly leave and have people think we’re up to no good.”

“After this song, I would think.” You winked at him and he rolled his eyes with all the drama this little show deserved. 

“Careful, little one. I might start to think you really mean all of this.”

You pondered his words and wondered to yourself if that would actually be a bad thing at all….

Team up with for a heist 🕶️

Reader (Pipsqueak) & Clint. Rated G. Hi-jinx, Tower fic, Avengers as family, fluff, Shenanigans. <700 words.

You crept along the hallway behind your partner in crime, excited, but also a little scared. Not that there would be any real, horrific consequences if you got caught. This was all in the name of friendly mischief after all. Still…

You tapped Clint on the shoulder and he turned to face you, questioningly.

“Do you think we’ll get caught?” you sighed. He had his hearing aids in, but signing was far more stealthy when you were trying to sneak up on enhanced folk.

“Not if you stick to the plan. I’ll run interference and you grab the treasure.”

You nodded in agreement, and continued forward. When you reached the open door to the common room, you stopped again, waiting outside as Clint straightened up and strolled in, as if he had no cares in the world.

“Hey fellas!”

Okay, you thought from outside, no Nat or Wanda in there. Good to know.

“Hey, Barton.” The deep voice of Bucky answered, and you knew that if he was there, then…

“How’s it going, Clint?” … Steve was there as well. The two were joined at the hip and it was sickeningly sweet. However, outside of Nat, they were going to be the hardest to sneak past. You just had to trust that Clint could distract them.

“Well,” you heard him say, “it’s a funny story…” That was your queue. The plan was that he would start some long, rambling story that had no real conclusion to it while you snuck in the room and carefully grabbed your prize. Looking around the door frame you could see your heist partner and the muscled backs of two super-soldiers, whose body language still gave off an air of interest. With all the stealth you could muster, you tiptoed into the common room, thankful for the carpet on the floor that muffled your steps. However, you did need to get into the kitchenette, which had a tiled floor. 

Keeping low, you scurried across the open space and ducked down behind the counter. Clint was still droning on about his friend’s cousin’s son who’d found a one-eyed dog cowering behind a dumpster, and when he did an impression of said dog, letting out a mournful howl, you carefully opened the cupboard in front of you. There was your prize! You wanted to clap your hands in glee, but that would have to wait until later. 

It was a moment’s work to pull the cloth bag from your back pocket and you waited for Clint’s next sound-effect to grab what you came here to find. You heard Bucky sigh, loudly and unsubtly, and you waited with baited breath, hoping that Clint could hook him back into the story. The sudden sound of Clint trying to be a bomb seemed to work so you decided to do a grab and dash. Once you rounded the corner, back into the corridor, you sped up into a sprint, before jumping up to grab the vent-duct access door and scrabbling up into your and Clint’s not-so-hidden highway.

You crawled along until you got to the junction that was your current ‘nest’. A soft thunk and a snuffling noise let you know that your charge had woken up.

“Hey, boy.” You reached out and scratched the dirty yellow dog on the top of his head. A few minutes later, Clint appeared by your side, grinning.

“The secret to any lie is to mix in a bit of the truth,” he announced as he reached into the bag beside you and opened the bag of artisan jerky. He pulled out three pieces, passing one to you, shoving another into his mouth and holding the other one out in front of the dog.

“Here you go, Lucky. Some of Bucky and Steve’s personal stash. Full of protein and low on additives.” The animal quickly scoffed it down and started to look around for another piece. The whole bag was empty within a matter of minutes, which was about the same time the three of you heard wails of anguish echoing up into the metal vents.

“Clint! Pip! Where’s my goddamn jerky?”

Friend-zone for life 🛑

Reader (Pipsqueak) & Peter Parker. Rate T. Angst, Unrequited love, friendship, feels. Approx 650 words

“Oh, Peter.” You sighed and gave him a sad smile. The young avenger stood in front of you, his dark hair tamed within an inch of his life with gel, wearing a dress shirt and slacks and holding a slowly wilting bunch of flowers in his hand. It was obvious that he’d heard you griping about your lacklustre love-life and how frustrating it was to be single in the lead up to Valentine’s day, because here he was, standing at your door with the most hopeful look on his face and you were about to break his heart.

“Please hear me out,” he garbled. “I know I’m a bit younger than you, but they say that age is just a number, and it’s not that big of an age gap, and like I’m in my prime and so are you, you know, for umm…” he trailed off as he turned bright pink.

You held back a second sigh — it wouldn’t help — and stepped back from your door to allow him to enter. It wouldn’t do to have this conversation out in the corridor. “Come in. Sit down.”

Peter scurried over to your couch and sat down on the edge of it, his hands holding the bouquet in a death grip. You took a careful seat on the single armchair opposite. “Look, Peter. I’m not going to say I’m not flattered — you’re a good looking young man and you have a lot to commend you — but I’m not what you’re looking for and you’re not what I’m looking for.”

“Oh.” His head dropped and you felt like the scum of the earth. He reminded you of a kicked puppy. “I just thought…”

“I know you did. And let me tell you, when I was your age there is no way I would have approached someone I had a crush on, especially if they were older than me.”

“You’re only nine years older,” he started to argue, but you cut him off with a raised hand.

“Yes, and when you’re my age, nine years older doesn’t mean that much. However, when you’re your age, nine years is a lot. But it’s not even that. I don’t want you thinking you can wait a few years and try again. I don’t want to upset you — I never would, you mean too much to me — but I’ve seen you grow up. I’ve known you since you were fifteen. I know you don’t want to hear it, but you’re my friend — my honorary little brother. I’m never going to be able to love you the way you want and the way you deserve.”

Peter seemed to slump even further, making him look even smaller and even younger. And then you heard the sniff.

“This was stupid. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come.” He suddenly stood up and pressed the heel of his palm to his eye. You turned your head away, trying to give him a semblance of privacy to get himself under control. 

“I’m sorry, too. I hope we can still be friends.”

“Yeah. Friends.” There was a petulant note in his voice, but you couldn’t be mad at him. His emotions were currently in charge. “You can keep the flowers. Or bin them. Whatever.” He dropped them on your coffee table and stalked over to the door, leaving your apartment and letting it bang shut behind him.

Now you let out that sigh, cradling your head in your hands as the emotional anguish washed over you. You peered at the flowers, a few of them now hanging limply on snapped stems.

“FRIDAY,” you called out. “Can you ask Tony to go and find Peter? I think he could do with a friend right now.”

“Sure,” the AI responded. “And would you like me to ask Mr Barton to come to you?”

“Yeah. That would be nice.”

Adopt a pet with 🐾

For this I’ve picked M’Baku and his Sabi-Star ([River Deep] Mountain High). Rated G. Fluff. Approx 350 words.

You pressed yourself to M’Baku’s side, both awed and wary at what was in front of you.

“When I said I wanted a pet to keep me company, I was thinking about something a little more ‘lap’ friendly. Or at least manoeuvrable.”

Your lover laughed beside you, the sound rumbling in his chest as much as it rumbled through the air. “Yes, but here in Wakanda, we don’t do anything by halves. And these animals are well trained and extremely loyal. Better than any dog.”

You looked at him pointedly, still not convinced.

“Ah, Sabi. Come,” he cajoled.  “We must get closer and let them know you. Maybe pet one of the babies?”

You transferred your gaze from him to one of the babies in question. You did have to admit that they were pretty cute, especially when they ran and their ears flapped around. Giving a small nod of assent, you carefully paced forward, concentrating on these animals that were almost entirely unknown to you - outside of textbooks and the odd zoo visit at least.

M’Baku held out his hand in front of him, and you copied his action, moving cautiously, and the baby Rhinoceros huffed at the pair of you, seemingly disappointed that neither of you held some kind of treat. It moved closer, and you held your breath as it snuffled at your robes, still hoping that you hadn’t arrived empty handed. 

Slowly, you reached out your hand and scratched the youngster behind one of its leathery ears and a giggle escaped you. Of all the things you’d experienced here in Wakanda, this was the most surreal. Suddenly, one of the adult rhino’s let out a bellow and the calf’s ears pricked up before it turned on its heels and trotted back over to the rest of the herd.

Behind you, W’Kabi sniggered. “That one is curious, unomdla. He will make a great War Rhino when he is grown. He is not frightened of one thing.”

“Yes,” M’Baku agreed. “Akọni.”

You watched the rhino calf frolic in the grass with the other youngsters, and felt yourself smile as your heart melted.

“Akọni.”

Take on a late-night drive with 🚗

Reader x Lee Bodecker. Rated E. Blowjob, unsafe driving, future sexy time discussed. Approx 250 words.

“Fuck, darlin’! That mouth on you.” The car lurched to the side, before coming back under control.

You pulled off Lee’s cock with a pop and smiled up at him. “Eye’s on the road, Sheriff. You don’t wanna get pulled over for dangerous driving.” You continued to jack him in your spit slicked hand. “You just get us to the look-out safely, and if you manage not to come, then maybe I’ll let you add a little cream to my peach pie.” You gave him a theatrical wink and then resumed your task, licking and slurping all over his shaft before widening your lips over his fat tip. 

You hadn’t planned on giving Lee road-head on the way out to ‘your spot’, but you’d been feeling some kinda way all day, and just couldn’t wait a moment longer to get your hands on him. You loved the way his soft flesh filled your hands. How the weight of him on top of you, spent and sated, made you feel safe and relaxed. And you knew, that even if he did blow in your mouth he wouldn’t leave you unsatisfied — he was good with his mouth and hands and he could keep you warm with those until he recovered. Now that you thought about it, that was feeling like a better idea. You hummed and felt him twitch, then slid your hand down to massage his balls.

It turns out that going for a late-night drive could be fun…

Let them fight your battles (while you swoon) 🛡️

This is definitely Nick Fowler and his spoiled brat (Ice Sculpture, Satin and Lace for my lover). Rated M. Violence, Suggestive language. Approx 450 words.

“Come on, darling. You look like you wanna have some fun.”

You reared back and wrinkled your nose as the guy who’d been pestering you all evening, and been getting subsequently more and more drunk, lurched back into your personal space.

“I do, which is why I came here tonight. With my friends. And why I kept telling you ‘no’. Now take the hint and go away.” This man had been the only blot on your night out with friends, and now he had followed the group of you out of the club. Of course he still didn’t engage the last few brain cells he had left, and his hand shot out and grabbed your wrist.

“Frigid bitch.”

Instead of being outraged, you rolled your eyes. Now, you could deal with this yourself but it would be far more interesting to watch—

A third hand appeared, gripping your assailant the way he was gripping you, except that this third hand squeezed a lot harder. The man let go of you with a cry and was wrenched away from you with a large amount of force. He staggered, his balance severely impaired, but he wasn’t allowed to fall. Because Nick wasn’t done with him yet.

The drunkard didn’t really know what was going on when the punch landed on the side of his face. His head snapped to the side, but in contrast Nick looked totally unruffled, albeit very angry. God he was magnificent. You pulled your lower lip between your teeth in anticipation, barely noticing the discomfort of your friends at the violence unfolding. Or maybe you just didn’t care.

A second punch followed the first and this time Nick let the man fall, but only so he could follow it up with a violent kick to the ribs, and a stamp to his outstretched hand. He hadn’t even said a word.

Satisfied that the drunken scum wasn’t getting up anytime soon, Nick turned and walked toward you, carelessly wiping away the blood from his knuckles with the handkerchief from his pocket. When he reached you, he cradled your cheek in his palm and you relaxed into it.

“Are you alright, dragostea mea?” His voice was full of concern.

“I’m fine, Nicky. Just need you to take me home.”

“Yes, you need to rest after such a shock.”

You looked up at him, a mix of incredulity and condescension. “No, Nicky, I need you to bend me over and rail me until I cry.”

“Well, who would I be if I denied a lady her wish?”

With a chuckle, you linked your arm through his and let him lead you over to where his car was parked, totally oblivious to the expressions of shock behind you.

Flirt shamelessly with 🌶️

Reader x Tony. Rated M. Sexual Banter, Innuendo, HR nightmare conversations. 550 words.

“You wanted to see me?” You walked into Tony’s office and closed the door behind you. Not because you wanted privacy, per se, but more to stop anyone else overhearing your banter and reporting the pair of you to HR.

Your boss, and friend, looked up from his desk with a big grin on his face and a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “I always want to see you, Bun-bun.”

You grinned back as you walked closer and perched yourself up on the antique mahogany. “I bet you say that to all the girls, Tone.”

Tony clasped his hand theatrically to his chest. “You wound me, Bunny. As if I would restrict my attention to just your sex. Think of all the disappointed fellas.”

A chuckle bubbled up your throat, but you only indulged it for a moment. You were here for work after all. “So what can I do you for, my Liege?”

“Flattery will get you everywhere… but yes, actual adulting.” Tony rolled his eyes and you resisted the urge to smirk — he was so dramatic. “We — and by ‘we’ I mean ‘you’ — need to chase up Cyber-research on their report into the latest AI automaton, Prosthetics need to feedback on, well, the feedback issues and I need a Non-fat, almond milk, Venti Caramel Frappucino.”

Your left eyebrow rose up into your hairline. “One, what did your last slave die of? And two, I thought you only drank black coffee?”

Tony lent across the desk, getting closer to you as if he had some kind of secret to reveal. “In reverse order, Pepper tells me I ought to have a more varied diet and if you, sweet Rabbit, were my slave, I would definitely have you doing far more interesting, and stimulating things, than chasing reports and picking up coffee. Alas, you are merely my PA. Although I do have an opening for a slave position.”

“Just the one position? You disappoint me, boss. I’d expect you to be far more versatile.”

He shrugged with a facade of nonchalance. “I can be versatile, just ask — actually, no. Don’t ask them. It didn’t end well. Anyway, chop-chop. The quicker you leave, the sooner you come back with my coffee and I can continue to convince you of the benefits of being my personal servant as opposed to my personal assistant.”

You pushed yourself off the desk and smoothed down your skirt. “It’s a good thing I can take all of this in the manner in which it’s meant, Tony. Anyone else would have you watching a disappointed Cap video about sexual harassment.” 

At your comment, Tony pulled a disgusted face and you giggled as you walked towards the door. You took hold of the knob, turned it and were about to make your exit when Tony decided that he had, of course, to have the last word. “If there’s ever anything else you want to take—” he waggled his eyebrows, “— I have privacy glass in this office.” 

You clicked your tongue, flipped him your middle finger and went back to your job, with a shake of your head. Not everyone could handle Tony, but you had to say it made your days that bit more interesting. And who knew, maybe, one day, you’d take him up on his offer.

Tag list: @km-ffluv, @wheezy-stucky, @kmc1989, @kombatfather1796

@christywrites, @alexakeyloveloki, @wolfsmom1, @doasyoudesireandlive,

@goldylions, @nicoline1998enilocin, @king814318, @blackhawkfanatic,

@strawberrylore, @scram1326, @steviebbboi, @endlesstwanted

@galactusdevourerofworlds, @apenny4thots, @crayongirl-linz, @hhiggs

[capsiclecevans]

"the hike will be worth it"

Warnings: pure fluff as alwayyyys, not the writer for smut am I? 

Summary: 

“not to be cheesy but that trope where character a is looking at a beautiful view and they’re like “oh it’s beautiful” and character b softly replies “yeah” but they’re gazing tenderly at character a when they say it……” found this prompt somewhere either on here or on the former bird app, I can’t remember lol 

Word Count: 1,336

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

⭐︎ ashleigh’s masterlist ⭐︎ | ☾ ashleigh’s taglist ☽

*:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧

Dating a celebrity was hectic. Dating a celebrity who has spent the most of his 30s single was also hectic. Dating said celebrity who portrayed Captain America until 2019 was tough. But he was worth it. You loved Chris, and he loved you. Since stepping away from Marvel and Steve Rogers, you have been able to take back some of the privacy you both craved near the end, even though if that means there are rumours every few months about him returning to Marvel. 

By stepping back, you were able to spend the the mandated lockdowns together during the COVID pandemic. You were both hidden away in your Boston home, no paparazzi invading your privacy and no fans leaking where you both were to be ambushed on the streets. 

Due to the pandemic and when the restrictions began to be slowly lifted, you were even able to secretly get married in your backyard, with your closest family there. It was the perfect day for you both as you loved your privacy and only having your closest family there made it the happiest day of your life. You didn’t even announce that you were married until your first anniversary and Chris posted his favourite photo of you both from your wedding day on his Instagram. 

You were both in love and nothing could ever change that. 

So you thought, it was a warm day in the late spring in Massachusetts and Chris decided to haul you and Dodger on a hike. You loathed the man you married at the moment, no matter how matter how gorgeous today was in Boston. 

“Chris…how much further…?” You whine as you follow him up the trail. You did have to admit, the view of his ass in the gym shorts he was wearing was a great view in itself and that is why you didn’t hate him entirely for making you walk up this trail with him. 

“Stop staring at my ass and I will tell you” He says in a knowing tone that you would has his ass in your view as you climbed up the trail carefully behind him. 

You can’t help a gasp leave your body. How did he know you were revealing in the sight of it in front of you. “How did you know…?” You ask a little shocked before continue walking behind him, not wanting to lose him on the trail. 

You hear him chuckle softly at the tone of your voice before looking over his shoulder to you, Dodger sniffing round at the bushes a few feet in front of you both on the trail. “You are my wife. I know these things baby.” He says before raising his eyebrows at you and smirks a little when you smile sheepishly as you had been caught out. “Not much further, we are near the clearing, about 5 more minutes of walking. The hike will be worth it.”  He finally answers your question with a smile, adjusting his baseball hat on his head before quickly pressing a kiss to your cheek to hopefully appease you into walking just a little bit further for him. 

You huffed a little before nodding and continue following him to the clearing that he mentioned. You weren’t going to admit to him that your feet were beginning to hurt as you hiked. You hadn’t been on a hike since the previous autumn, so you were not used to walking these distances again. 

Your mood and attitude changed instantly when Chris stepped out the way for you to see the view in the clearing of the valley and lake. 

“Woah…” You mumble under your breath as you follow your husband to on of the benches to take a break from walking. As you sit down slowly, Dodger comes and lays in front of you both, Chris pouring one water bottle into a collapsable dog bowl for Dodger to drink from before passing you another full bottle of water to quench your thirst from the hike you just made it through. “Thank you…” You say to him as your eyes soften as you look at him. He was always so prepared and thoughtful. 

Chris flashes your favourite smile of his before he sits down next to you on the bench, taking the weight of his feet as well for a well deserved break before you make your way back to the car to head home for the afternoon. 

You smile at him lovingly before taking a long slip of water, slowly placing the lid back on the bottle and watching Dodger for a moment. Your perfect family. 

You feel Chris’ arm rest on the bench behind you, like it always does when you sit next to each other. A knowing smile creeping onto your face before you sneak a glance at him. He looked so relaxed and content with himself and his life in that moment that you were proud of him. It was the perfect life for you both away from the cameras and the fans. 

You stop watching him before it becomes a little awkward, even if Chris didn’t try to make it awkward. You move your gaze away from your husband and back to the view that he clearly wanted you to see, as why would he bring you out here. 

The sun reflected off the blue still water of the lake at the bottom of the valley and was surrounded by elegant, trees that stood undisturbed by humans, and probably have done for the last couple of hundred years. It was gorgeous. How did you not know that this place was only an hour from your home? 

“Oh wow…” You say which makes Chris turn his head to you gently, a tender look on his face as he watches you realise how beautiful nature was out here. “It’s beautiful…” You say and smiles to yourself, the whining about how long the walk was long gone as you admire the view. 

Chris grins to himself and nods “Yeah…” He says, but he is not looking at the view. He is looking at his beautiful wife that he has loved for the last 7 years of his life. “You are…” He whispers under his breath so only you would be able to hear him. 

Your cheeks flush a light red when you hear his words. He was talking about you, not the natural beauty of the view in front of you. You slowly look from the view to your husband and smiles slowly. “Smooth Christopher…” You say before leaning in for a gentle, loving kiss. 

Chris eagerly reciprocates the kiss gently, holding you a little closer to him. Not too close that you would overheat in the warm spring air though, pulling away slowly to nudge his nose against yours lovingly. You can’t help but let a giggle escape from your mouth as he does, a grin gracing his lips as he loves when you giggle. It was one of his favourite noises you make, the other was the ones you make when you are under him when you are in bed together. 

“What can I say, my gorgeous wife…my smooth talking was one of the reasons you married me right?” He jokes and strokes your hair from your face as he watches you, his wedding band cool on your skin as you lean into his touch. You could never get enough of this man. 

“Oh, of course…” You joke back before grinning at him, leaning in to peck his lips again. A chuckle rumbles in his chest as he hears the joking tone of your voice. 

“God, I do love you more than anything…” He whispers before you lean your head on his shoulder to watch the view for a few more minutes before you head back to the car with Dodger. 

Now this was the life you had always dreamt about, and you were able to live it to the fullest with the love of your life. 

*:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧

Send requests to my ask box! 

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to be included in my taglist, follow this link ☾ ashleigh’s taglist ☽

[krirebr]

What's the first gift Ransom buys for Lola when he finally admits he likes the puppy?

- Zombie

"What the hell is that?" you asked as Ransom sat the big and ungainly thing down in front Lola on the kitchen floor.

"Smoked beef marrow bone," he said proudly gazing down at Lola as she completely lost her shit. "Stopped by the butchers on my way home tonight."

"It's bigger than she is! She can't have that!"

"Sure she can," he said, smugly. "She's a champion. She can do it."

"She gonna make herself sick!" you worried.

Ransom grabbed you by the wrist, pulling you closer. "It'll be fine," he said, lowly. "I'll grab it when she's had enough. Save it for later."

"I can't believe how whipped you are by a tiny dog," you grumbled.

"Nah," he said. "We just understand each other."

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn't help the little smile that curled at the edges of your lips.

Thanks @thezombieprostitute !!

Let's talk about More Than This tonight!

[ronearoundblindly]

List of Dirty Asks (April 2024)

Dirty Asks from this game:

A - Alone Time with Steve Rogers

B - O - W - Bondage, Outdoor, and Water with Ari x Reader from Bedrock and Blueprints series

U - Underwear with Ransom Drysdale

L - S - Lighting and Sleepy Sex with Ransom x Reader from The Root of All Ransom series

I - N - R - Impact Play, Not Yet, and Routine for Jake Jensen

V - Voyeurism for Johnny Storm and Z - Zones for Lloyd Hansen

K - Kissing for Jake Jensen

K - L - S - Kissing, Lighting, and Sleepy Sex with Steve Rogers from Hideout series

K - Kissing with Ari Levinson

E - Extra Info with Jake Jensen

R - N - Routine and Not Yet with Steve Rogers from Hideout series and Fools Rush In series

B - F - Bondage and Food Play with Steve Rogers

Z - P - Zones and Photography for Steve Rogers x Reader from Fools Rush In series

A - Q - Alone Time and Quiet Please with Steve Rogers from Hideout series

E - Extra Info with Steve Rogers x Reader from Hideout series

S - Sleepy Sex with Jake Jensen

P - Photography with Jake Jensen

A - Q - Y - Alone Time, Quiet Please, and Yes, Master with Ransom Drysdale from before and after The Root of All Ransom series

A - D - E - Alone Time, Dominance, and Extra Info with Jimmy Dobyne from Common Education series

A - B - C - D - Alone Time, Bondage, Crying, and Dominance with Johnny Storm

A - K - Z - Alone Time, Kissing, and Zones with Curtis Everett

A - Q - P - Alone Time, Quiet Please, and Photography with Lloyd Hansen

D - S - Dominance and Sleepy Sex with Steve Rogers from Fools Rush In series

D - Y - Dominance and Yes, Master with Lloyd Hansen

W - Water with Steve Rogers x mermaid!reader from Sun, Salt, and Shield mini-series

C - Crying with CEO!Steve Rogers from It Had To Be You series

N - Not Yet with Ari Levinson

F - Z - Food Play and Zones with Nomad Steve Rogers from Hideout series

E - K - S - U - Z - Extra Info, Kissing, Sleepy Sex, Underwear, and Zones with Johnny Storm

[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

dividers by @/cafekitsune

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Words Like Honey 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, power dynamic, age gap, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Lee Bodecker, Ransom Drysdale (Professor AU)

Summary: it's hard making friends at college, but you might just be looking in the wrong places.

Part of the Bad Professors AU

Note: Please leave some feedback and reblog <3 As always, I love to chat with you all. 

You reach for the last coconut bar in the basket. As you take it, another hand stops short and you turn to the man you didn’t notice right beside you. You have a bad habit of zoning out in crowded places. Your sister calls it tunnel vision. Often times, you would just sit and stare at family gatherings with all the people and sound. 

“Oh, oops, sorry,” you hold out the bar, “did you want this one?” 

The man glances at you, a tick in his cheek, “aw, sweetheart, don’t you worry about that. I’m just fine with a brownie.” He reaches to take a brownie from the basket instead, “nice of ya to offer, though.” 

“It’s not problem,” you say, “I don’t mind trading.” 

“No, no, now what kinda gentleman would take from a pretty gal like yourself? You go on and enjoy that,” he smiles. “Don’t meet many polite ladies ‘round here, now.” 

“Oh,” your cheeks heat up, “thank you, sir.” 

“And I’m sure you don’t need old men sayin’ so,” he rubs the back of his neck. “I’ll be on my way then.” 

You smile as he moves to get around you. The space is tighter than you expect and his belly presses slightly against you as he sidles past. He gives and apologetic nod, “sorry, sweetheart.” 

“No worries,” you assure him and slip past, turning to peruse the packets of flavoured hot chocolate by the hot water karafe. 

You choose the smores flavour and tear it open. You fix up your cocoa and pop a lid on top. You take your sweets to the cashier and swipe your student card. It isn’t the best use of your meal plan but that sweet tooth kills you.  

You have about an hour before your next class. You come out into the cafeteria area and glance around. There’s not much room in the midday rush. The first week is always the busiest. 

You could sneak your hot chocolate into the library but you’re not sure it would be any less crowded. You see the same man at a table. He shimmies on his seat as he puts his briefcase next to him. He’s older and judging by his checkered button-up, a professor.  

You measure your options. Second year and you still haven’t found any friend. Your grandma says to put yourself out there but Cameron in your baking class said your souffle looked flat and laughed with Dustin and Penny.  

All you want is a place to sit. 

You approach the man, your stomach fluttering. You really hope you’re not bothering him. You keep your hot chocolate close to your chest. 

“Ahem, erm, excuse me, sir,” you say. He looks up as he presses his thumb down to unlock his phone. He lays it on the table and retracts his hand. “Sorry, I don’t mean to be a pest, again, but...” you look around, “do you mind if I steal this seat? I promise I’ll be quiet.” 

“Go on,” he gestures to the chair. “I’ll only ask ya one thing.” 

“Oh, sure,” you look at him like a frightened fawn. 

“Your name? Must be as pretty as you.” 

You could melt. The way his accent turns his voice to syrup and his words make it even sweeter. You grin. 

“Saffron, sir,” you set down your cup and square. You extend your hand in an overly formal gesture. “And you?” 

“You can call me Lee, sweet cake.” He shakes your hand. His grip is firm and tight. He reminds you of your neighbour who used to mow the lawn for your grandma. Always helpful. 

“Lee,” you sit and blow over the slot of the lid. “You must teach. Oh, sorry, I said I’d be quiet.” 

“Nah, it’s alright,” he waves away your apology. “Is it that obvious then? You count the grays?” 

He touches his temples and you giggle nervously. “No, no, I didn’t mean that. I only... well, you could be a student. Gerry in my pastry class, he’s got grandkids.” 

“I ain’t got none of those now,” he snorts and points at you tersely. 

“I--” You pull back and touch your cheeks, “oh boy, I didn’t mean it like that. I swear.” 

He laughs, “I know. I’m yankin’ ya chain. So, I s’pose you’re a student then? Culinary? You mentioned pastries?” 

“Oh, yes.” You nod and cross your arms over the table. “I always cooked with my grandma and I figured, if you’re good at something, you should keep doing it.” 

“That does sound like a good plan,” he says.  

“Mmhmm,” you hum and nod. 

Awkwardness sets in and you try to figure out what to do with yourself. You scratch your shoulder then reach for your hot chocolate. You take another drink and set it down. You take the coconut square and put it in your bag. 

You take out your laptop, hoping to busy yourself as the tension builds. You should have just gone and sat in the quad. Too late now. 

You open up the lid and type in your password. Of course, it needs to update. As you wait for the rolling circle to finish, your vision blurs. All this activity makes you want to disappear. 

Your eyes come back into focus as your computer chirps. You blink and notice movement on the other side. You glance at Lee as he pulls his phone close and squints at the screen. There’s something odd about the intensity of his gaze. You swear, he’d just had it right across from you. 

Well, you weren’t paying attention. There you go again, blocking out the world. If you stopped that, you might actually make friends! You frown and cup your chin in your hand. 

“’samatter?” He asks, once more jarring you from your self-imposed isolation. 

You shake your head and sit up, “nothing. Just... thinking.” 

“Hm, well whatever ya thinking of, it can’t be so bad. Not enough to make a sweet thing like you so sad,” he says. 

“Really, it’s not. You know, college can be stressful,” you force a smile. 

“It can be. Piece of advice,” he leans forward, “get out while you can. Don’t stick around like me.” 

“Oh, well, thanks,” you reply. “I think I’ll end up in a kitchen somewhere. Hopefully.” 

“Kitchen’s a nice place to be,” he winks. “Make all sorts of tasty dishes. Make people happy. Not many people happy about a term paper, ya know?” 

[darkmasterlistyouneveraskedfor]

Watchers Anonymous Chronological Reading Order

Masterlist by Character

This is roughly chronological for those who prefer it.

Watchers Anonymous 1 (Everyone)

Countermeasure 1 (Jake Jensen)

Shutter 1 (Peter Parker)

Fool’s Game 1 (Loki)

Give and Take 1 (Steve Rogers)

Taking Root 1 (Bucky Barnes)

Fantasy 1 (Curtis Everett)

Sparkle in my Eye 1 (Captain Syverson)

Home Grown 1 (Cole Turner)

Little Miss Sunshine 1 (Nick Fowler)

Straight to the Point 1 (Ransom)

Countermeasure 2 (Jake Jensen)

Shutter 2 (Peter Parker)

Little Miss Sunshine 2 (Nick Fowler)

Home Grown 2 (Cole Turner)

Taking Root 2 (Bucky Barnes)

Fantasy 2 (Curtis Everett)

Adore You 1 (Thor)

Adore You 2 (Thor)

Fool’s Game 2 (Loki)

Watchers Anonymous 2 (Everyone)

Watchers Anonymous 3 (Everyone)

Shutter 3 (Peter Parker)

Little Miss Sunshine 3 (Nick Fowler)

[imyourbratzdoll]

𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒘𝒃𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒚 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒄𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒓𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒇𝒖𝒏𝒅 𝒃𝒂𝒃𝒚

🍓the strawberry shack masterlist🍓

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

thank you for reading!

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[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Cranky, Foul, Very Bad Day

A Ransom x Kitten Drabble

Summary- 1.2k Ransom Drysdale x Kitten. Walt has yet again fucked over Ransom's day.

Written for @yenzys-lucky-charm Cranky, Grumpy Stabby! Oh My!, Challenge Prompt used- 🗡️ A: Smoothing out the crease in Cranky’s frown while straddling their lap B: Cranky character melts, pulling them in for a kiss

Warnings- Ransom swearing and being in a foul mood. Some fooling around and suggestive acts. This is an 18+ Only Blog. Also the title deserves warning because I am terrible at titles.

A/N- Happy Birthday Carly! Thank you for the random chats about everyday life and accepting that sometimes I am off in my own little world.

Precarious Agreements Masterlist

Ransom peeled out of the lot, the tires squealing as he left Walt screaming from the middle of the employee parking after he told him how he was a fucking waste of space in the company. 

“Fuck that fucking jack off.” He muttered, his hands white-knuckling the steering wheel. “He seriously thought he was going to just do whatever the fuck he wants.” 

It didn't matter that Walt did do just that, bypassing the last of the editing process to get the latest Thrombey thriller to be published. “FUCK.” He cussed again, his hand once more slamming on the wheel of his BMW, making the car jerk a bit while he continued ignoring all the speed limit signs. 

There was no way to stop it, Walt already guaranteed the book's release date all over the place and to backtrack on that date would plummet the success of the book. This would upset Harlan as he was a writer, he lived for his readers' approval even if he claimed he didn't. 

Walt just fucked that all up epically. Cause Ransom was one of the editors fine-tuning the book and it had some rewrites that needed to happen. Ransom was sure most of them had already been taken care of but who knew, he hadn’t had a chance to go through it himself. 

Pulling into his driveway, he slammed his car door shut with a slight bit of satisfaction at the sound. 

It matched the cursing in his mind, the feelings of anger bubbling under his skin and making his jaw clench, teeth grind together. It was rare he felt like this anymore, not since he had been going to therapy with you to help grow a healthy relationship. Part of his therapy consisted of dealing with anger without lashing out and doing something purely out of anger and spite. 

It had been a long road and Walt, mother fucking Walt always could bring it out in him. Already he was ready to go to the publishing house and sabotage the whole fucking thing. A cold calculated grin gave him a moment of satisfaction thinking about Walt’s temper tantrum if that happened. 

But there would also be Harlan’s disappointment and disgust to deal with. And Ransom did care about his grandfather, so that couldn’t happen. Barging into the house, your massive Doberman gave a booming bark, his perked ears lifting from his bed where he lay when you weren't home. “Can it Dobby, I’m not in the mood for your bullshit today.” Your dog huffed at him while he went to his office to pour a drink before settling at his desk, brewing in aggravation. 

He should start promoting now, get the book out there, and set up some kind of meet and greets for Harlan to attend, the old man loved getting to meet fans who doted on him. 

Ransom’s mood soured the more he thought of this recent situation that Walt put them in. 

From out of the room came the sound of the front door shutting, much softer than when he did, as well as your greeting when Dobby must have rushed to meet you, the dog barks differently than when he came in. 

Of course, the mutt liked you better, he could hear you greeting him and could picture you rubbing at his ears and slipping a treat to him. Damn dog. 

He sighed, the crease in his brow deepening, it wasn’t Dobby’s fault he was pissed, it was Walt. Ransom wasn't about to add Dobby to his issues today. Dobby would piss him off at a later date. 

“Where’s Ran hiding Dobby?” You asked as your footsteps padded down the hall to where his door was cracked open, followed closely by the click of Dobby’s nails. Both heads peeked in at you which had him glaring over his glass at the two of you. 

You smiled regardless of his pissed-off look, slipping in while Dobby settled in the open doorway, letting you approach Ransom on your own. 

What a risk you were taking, as his icy blue eyes watched you closely. You could see him simmering in his chair, knew his moods better then your own at this point he was sure. Ransom tried to soften a bit. 

So a smirk fluttered on his face, tilting his head while changing to suggestively checking you out. “I got a cock needing sitting on if you want a seat.” Pushing back his chair a bit while widening his legs. 

You grasped one of his shoulders as you moved to straddle his lap, your skirt hiking up thighs that he was planning on losing himself in tonight. The most perfect ass he has ever seen settled right into him like you belonged there. Your weight settled into him as you studied him silently for a moment. 

He felt his heart quicken, the way you studied him wasn’t your usual playfulness, no rolling of the eyes or some teasing remark about only staying for his dick and mouth. You always saw him, past the bullshit he used to protect himself from others. 

You gave a lil smile while easing your hand to rub at the deep crease between his eyes, smoothing it out and making him relax his face little by little, he hadn't even realized that he had carried so much tension. 

But of course, you did, you always saw him. Just him. And damn how you tore down all those walls of his. 

Reeling you in closer, he tilted you into him till your mouth met his and then all was right in his world. You sunk into him like he was where you belonged and matched him, gripping of his shirt and arching into him will your hips moved and ass rocked in against his lap. 

Blood rushed to his cock, making him grunt at the sensation. When you pulled back, there was a knowing grin, you pressed back once more against his lap. 

“You want a hand with that?” You whispered while tilting to place kisses along his neck, making his brain scatter while blood rushed to his cock, now throbbing in his pants. Everything that pissed him off earlier today, no longer fucking mattered. 

“More like your mouth Kitten, letting me fuck your face till your makeup is ruined.” He rumbled while lifting the hem of your shirt, giving an appreciative whistle to find that you were braless, jerking you forward for a moment to suck on your tits before you got down on your knees for him. 

You gave a little squeal and giggle when he bit on your nipple till you fisted your hand in his hair, making his head tilt back, his pretty pink lips parted and usually icy blue eyes full of heated lust. "You gonna tell me after this why you're so cranky? It's Walt isn't it?"

He scowled up at you while you smirked having the right answer. "I sure as fuck don't want limp dick, so can we not talk about that fucking prick?"

You rolled your hips, grinding yourself against his hard on. "I don't think that's a problem Ran. Tell you what, fuck me stupid and then we will plan on how to fuck him over."

This made a cold calculated smirk pass on his face, you matching his grin just as wickedly back. "Kitten, this is why you're perfect."