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imaginedreamwrite · 1 year

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Brat Taming: Part 13

A/N: Smut is prevalent in the chapter, with overstimulation, vibrators, teasing and edging, domination/submission and punishments. Please don’t read it if it makes you uncomfortable

Ari had certain expectations when it came to making his office run seamlessly, as he should have, and there was an incredible amount of tenacity to his patience. He was not a man who could easily be angered by desperate attempts to get him to react unless there was a direct threat to the people he loved and wanted to protect.

It was one of his traits as an alpha that separated him from what seemed like the other 50% of alphas who seemed to make up the designation.

It seemed as if at least half of their designation had the same distinctive abilities to be good alphas without having to rely on traits that could have been deemed toxic. Ari and Steve, even Ransom if he had tried to put in more effort to not be such an arrogant prick to other people, were all good alphas at the root of themselves.

Both of the older alphas had deeply embedded protective tendencies, an ability to understand and compassionately grasp the workings of an omega’s hindbrain without reducing them to their basest selves.

Ransom was cocky, he was an arrogant and rich alpha who could have had anything or anyone handed to him on a silver platter. He was born with a silver spoon shoved up his ass and that had damaged his ability to deny the toxic traits that made omegas want to settle down with the alpha.

However like Ari & Steve believed, Ransom only had to meet the right omegas who wouldn’t immediately cater and submit to his whims, but rather they would try to push him to his limits and make him back down. It was what made you and Jake everything those alphas needed.

It was your fire and your ability and nature to be bratty that drove every one of your alphas crazy with need. Your tendency as omegas to feel comfortable enough to push back against the alphas was both embraced and revelled in.

They enjoyed their omegas brattiness, the back and forth that aided the bonds that were being built was a necessity to have an unbreakable relationship.

However patient Ari was, and however indifferent he could have been, he had found your punishment just as invigorating and addictive as your attitude was.

He was just waiting for it, just waiting for the opportunity to punish you as a good alpha would have. The alphas knew, all of them had been aware, that you and Jake were dealing with the sensations of being marked and mated.

They had been well aware that you both were settling in your bratty moods and with a common agreement between you, albeit made through your natural bond as best friends and lovers and had kickstarted the punishments that were befitting for both of you.

With you at work in the office making comments under your breath about Ari and his first assistant degrading the choice to have someone who was so aggravating without trying, had incited his decision to punish you.

Normally this patient alpha would have let you mumble every comment under the sun about his first assistant who he knew could be difficult to deal with, however today Ari couldn’t let it slide.

Whether it was his unwillingness to go through a teleconference knowing you were outside of his office wearing a skirt that was far too easy to slide up your thighs and a piece of cloth obscuring your sweet little cunt from his view, or whether it was his vivacious lust and hunger, it had all ended at the same conclusion.

Ari had stepped out of his office, pausing to listen to you muttering your annoyance at both your boss and the woman you claimed was the wicked bitch of the West.

He had watched you while leaning against the frame of his door, his arms crossed over his chest and his chin tucked as his eyes had become engrossed with thick seams of desire. It was reflective of his need for you, his dire hunger that aided him to make a demand that caused hair at the nape of your neck to stand and your eyes to grow wide.

“Y/N, my office. Now.” The command was sent from his mouth, and you were immediately aware of how rooted he was in his alpha hindbrain.

He had seen your lips part with a potential argument, a rebuttal that he wished you would’ve let fall from your lips. He wished you would have fired back with some kind of aggravated response to Ari’s demand, earning another punishment that you didn’t know was coming.

It could’ve been a demand that could have been negated, or at least an attempt could have been made, however, Ari was pleased to see you standing immediately to follow him toward his office.

“Is there anything you need of me, Mr. Levinson?” His first assistant had already started to rise to her feet, overeager to please him in any manner despite already being in a steady and comfortable relationship with her alpha.

It was after Ari had settled a hand on your back to lead you into his office, to the punishment waiting for you, that he had looked over his shoulder with a controlled half-smirk on his face.

His first assistant was not guarded with her disdain for you and your role in the office, especially since you had been sleeping with the boss and getting away with it. However, Ari was just as displeased about her attitude toward you and had already been making plans to have another reasonable offer sent her way for a new job.

“Go home, you have the rest of the afternoon off.” Ari had closed the door without allowing another potential argument and just as quickly locked the door behind him.

He stood and faced you, silence between the two of you was not stale or stagnant, it was fuelled by desire and mild confusion, knowledge of what was to come and expectations of pleasure and pain.

“I have a meeting, Y/N.” Ari’s long stride had taken him past you and around the side of the desk, his leather chair angled to the left of his computer.

“If you needed me to take notes-“

“Did I ask you to take notes?” Ari spoke over you with a bite, the force behind his words making you shudder and whimper simultaneously. “You’re going to keep me occupied.”

Ari placed a hand upon the back of the chair, steadying it as he sat down upon the cushioned bottom and then he spread his legs. His cock was strained and throbbing beneath the seams of his slacks and with a single wave of his hand, you had started to walk toward him with your hands by your sides and your eyes still unnerved.

When you were within reach, Ari grabbed your wrist and pulled you toward him and his hard-on, your palm jutted toward the bulbous head. Ari’s voice was laced heavily with need, your name falling from his lips as he made you squeeze his erection.

The intent was known and the command had been all too easily absorbed as you recoiled and lifted your skirt, your hands holding the material in order for him to hook his fingers in the band of your panties to yank them down your thighs.

“This is a punishment,” Ari addressed you with a firm tone yet no less loving than before, “you wanna be a brat? You get punished.”

He enjoyed your verbal exhilaration when he smacked your ass, his palm cracking against your flesh before his fingers dug into you. He had pulled you back toward him, keeping a hand on your ass and the other busied with freeing his thick and throbbing cock.

“You’re going to keep my cock warm while I take this teleconference. If your try and get off my cock before the meeting is finished, you’ll be under the desk sucking me off. If you cum before I say you can, you won’t cum for a week.” Ari’s hands settled on your hips and he arranged you between his legs, giving you no room to protest as he lowered you to his cock, your puffy pussy lips already wet.

The head of his cock had started to part your labia, the seeping precum mixing with your desire, and his name all too easily fell from your lips when he made you take all of him into your tight cunt. When he had settled you in your place, Ari leaned forward and pressed a kiss against the nape of your neck, almost entirely too soft and contradictory to his demanding dominance.

“You have your warning, brat.” Ari’s lips parted and he nipped your flesh as a warning. “I would love any reasons to punish you further, let’s see if you earn the right to cum or if you’ll end up with a week of denial.”

It was hard to breathe without shuddering, hard to contend with the twitch of Ari’s thick bulbous head as it plunged into your cunt.

It was hard to function and focus on taking notes while Ari was on a teleconference since you were being stretched and filled to the brim, wholly and entirely stuffed. He was ruthless, smacking your puffy and hard clit when you faltered, all entirely fuelled by his irritation with your attitude.

“Maybe next time you’ll think about being such a brat. I’m your alpha sweetheart but I’m also your boss.”

“Are you focusing?” You shuddered and whimpered, his voice husky and hoarse in your ear while his fingers deftly plucked at your hard little nub. “I almost feel sorry for you…but I know you like it.”

“J-Jake-” your voice shook, indelibly able to detect his state of being like a dull fog at the back of your mind.

“Yes, Jake is learning a hard lesson too.” Ari purred huskily in your ear and then taunt you further, starting to tap his fingers against your hard clit with every illicit breath you’d taken.

“We’re planning on taking full advantage of our private dining room, puppy. And you are going to take your punishment with pride.”

Wine, he thought as he swallowed what was given to him, wine should’ve made him feel better and yet it was another delectable sensation intent on ruining him. A good wine that Ransom assured would be palatable with the edging Jake deserved, and he was right.

He had been overstimulated already, entirely too full and stretched with a vibrator in his tight asshole and a ring pulsing at the base of his cock, Jake was being dragged through countless rounds of edging that had only been part of his punishment.

The argument that started it all had come from Jake and focused more on Steve than Ransom. It was a few remarks about Steve’s sexuality and the urge to just jump from the edge of the cliff. Jake had pressed Steve to be bolder with himself, given that there wasn’t anything to fear about being open with how and who he loved.

And though the comments had meant to encourage Steve, it had taken a turn when Steve had embraced Jake’s open brattiness and reassured him that being bold was nothing new to Jake.

“Full, puppy?” Jake’s shiver was inductive of his tension, his cock begging for release that wasn’t granted to him by Steve or Ransom. “I think you’re enjoying yourself.”

It was pleasured and painful torture that left no bruises or marks. It was the sensation of the dildo in his ass vibrating when Steve turned it on and the fallout after it was turned off to give him a chance to calm down. Between the remote in Steve’s control, the remote in Ransom’s control and what he could detect from you, Jake was truly going to lose his mind.

“He can handle it, he’s a big boy.” Steve was almost erotically sadistic when he leaned toward Jake to cup his cheek and turn his head. “You can handle it, right Jake?”

His lips met Steve’s and he tried to chase the feeling, only to fall short and whine in desperation when Steve pulled away.

The super soldier had let go of Jake’s chin and patted his cheek twice, and then he leaned back against his chair and raised a hand to signal the waiter. With striking confidence that made Jake believes he had been playing the entire time, Steve had brazenly raised the remote in his other hand and pressed the button twice.

The shock of the faux cock in his ass had earned another husky groan that fell too easily from Jake’s lips, and the sudden jerk of his hips to seek some kind of pleasurable release from the toys that he was being teased with.

“If you cum, you’re going to pay for it.” Ransom’s warning was whispered as a seductive command in his ear, the deterrent coming with another level of erotic intimacy as the alpha command had settled in his hindbrain.

Thick fingers slipped beneath the table, a hand sliding up a covered thigh while he was truly and well on his way to losing his mind. Trapped under electrifying gazes that burned through him, it wasn’t just one but two that had given him no reprieve from the building tension and cathartic need to reach his end. This was a punishment for his decision to push both of them to their limits, though it wasn’t conventional in any sense.

When Jake had been under the impression that he was going to be punished, he’d thought it would involve Shibari or some restraints to keep him still. He’d never anticipated his ass being stuffed full of a vibrating cock while his shaft and balls were being stimulated by the same torturous quivers.

It was clear that Jake and yourself were being manhandled by your alphas to be punished, he could feel your pleasured pain through the bonds that you and Jake had formed from childhood, and he knew that he wasn’t alone.

“You’ve barely touched your food.” Teasing words that rolled off a silver tongue paired with fingers that slipped further up his thigh before ultimately squeezing the thick throbbing hard-on trapped beneath Italian slacks. “You should eat something.”

“Something wrong, pup?” Steve crooned, raising his fork to his lips to enjoy the seared steak he had been craving. “Not hungry?”

“Ohhh fuck…” Jake’s head lolled back, his eyes screwing closed as vibrations coursed in his ass, the vibrator used to drive him toward a slow orgasm was maddening. “P-please-!”

“I think we need dessert,” Ransom leaned in close to Jake, his tongue lapping at sweat-laden flesh while his hand closed around Jake’s clothed cock. “You’re going to have to wait longer to cum, brat.”

“I’m going to lose my fucking mind.” Jake hissed, his eyes straining to open and his teeth gritting as he cursed with the tension that was rattling him. “Please, fuck-!”

He jerked his hips and dug his nails into the tablecloth with almost enough tension to tear the fabric clean. Jake had ground his teeth with every pulse that rocked his nervous system and drove his mind closer to temporary insanity.

There was no denying their domineering status as alphas, and Jake would later swear on his life that he loved being their little subby omega but at the moment he was fighting for his life.

“If you want to cum,” Ransom let go of his trapped erection and deftly unzipped Jake’s fly, his hand slipping in the opening to grasp his cock under the table, “you have to beg for it.”

The sound that fell from Jake’s lips was garbled and twisted, it wasn’t coherent in any manner but yet it still made his alphas starkly proud of the omega who had resisted until this moment.

He hadn’t been mentally aware of what he was saying, he was letting his tongue work on its own and had only recognized the permission that was given to him after Ransom had dug his teeth back into the mark on Jake’s neck.

The vibrations hadn’t ceased even as Jake had been granted the ability to chase his orgasm. His hips rocked as he threw himself back into the chair, his head lolling as their names rolled off his tongue as an erotic sonnet. It was blinding and white hot pleasure that shot through every nerve ending in his body, Jake’s mind contorted and twisted by desire and release while Ransom’s hand pumped Jake’s shaft.

And even as he started to come down from that high, pleasure was still falling upon him when he felt Ransom’s lips against Jake’s cock to clean his shaft and bulbous head.

“Thank you,” Jake’s chest was heaving with every strained breath, his body wracked with leftover trace amounts of electrifying pleasure, “that was incredible.”

His chin was grasped again, his face turned toward Steve and relief had soon been replaced by anticipation when the super soldier claimed Jake’s mouth as his.

“You’re not done yet.”

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buckyscombatboots · 2 years

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Never stop chasing me 🐕

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Reader

Warnings: Overprotective!Ransom, softdom!Ransom, angst, Beefy!Ransom, mentions of mean!Ransom, cunnilingus, praise, body worship, p in v

Nicknames: Puppy

Word count: 2.9k

You’ve been in love with Ransom for as long as he could remember. It was obvious to everyone around you, even to him but he ignored it. He liked feeling wanted. He liked the look of pure admiration in your eyes. He liked how you’d follow him around like a puppy. And he loved your adorable jealous face when he flirted with others. But lately you haven’t been coming around, you’ve been avoiding him completely. Then he sees you with another man. He can’t bear it, he needs you back.

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Wherever Ransom went, you weren’t far behind. At the country club? You were there. At social events? You were there. Shopping for new clothes? You were definitely there; carrying his bags, giving opinions on outfits and keeping him company. Your behaviour had earned you the nickname ‘Puppy’, well at least, that was what the nicer people called you. Others, who were less nice, called you a more explicit word of the same origin. The nickname had stuck, even Ransom called you it now ‘Puppy, carry this.’ or ‘Puppy, follow me.’ or ‘Puppy, put that down’ They’d all become frequent commands. He liked having a little puppy to follow him everywhere, despite him disliking dogs—he liked you, though he would never show it. He loved the fact that no matter what he did you’d always run back to him. He adored the sad puppy eyes you always gave him; whenever he abandoned you to go off with others or whenever he said something inherently mean to you like insulting your outfit, hair or just general appearance that day—he loved the sight of tears threatening to spill from your big eyes and your lip quivering at his insults, it was one of his favourite activities. He felt powerful when he did it, something he always lacked at home—but you slotted right into that category of need perfectly. He valued your friendship deep, deep down in his seemingly non existent heart. He refused to show it though, because to show it was to admit that he needed you and he didn’t need anyone…Or did he?

But then it happened the next day, and the day after that and then just like that a week had passed. A bleak, lonely week. He sat snuggled in a sweater on one of the cushiony, cream chairs next to the roaring fireplace. He’d been on the same page of the latest fashion mag for almost an hour, staring blankly at the model; pretending to himself that he was reading it and that he totally was not waiting for you to reply to his 30th text or 50th missed call.

He had caved on the third day. He couldn’t bare the silence any more. It was making him antsy, his leg was continually bouncing and for the first time in forever he’d begun biting his nails again—a habit he’d had to try so hard to curb. God damn he missed you. He missed your presence, the soft chime of your sing-song tone, the light pitter patter of your feet as you followed closely behind him and your scent—he missed that most—it was so comforting, he’d instantly relax when he smelt you. He was crumbling without it. He threw down the magazine, onto the small black table that divided the chairs, in frustration throwing his head back, resting an arm on his forehead and letting out an elongated Ughh. He was bored and lonely. Argh he hates that word: Lonely. Why the fuck should he, Hugh Ransom Drysdale, have to be lonely? It was a ridiculous concept. The words Drysdale and lonely do not align, they should never be placed next to each other. It was sacrilege. But somehow it happened.

He needed to fuck someone.

That was the conclusion he had come to, that’s why he was here at ‘Miss Scarlet’ ‘The hottest bar in town’ is what every stupid tourist site called it. To Ransom, it was exclusively known as ‘the bird nest’ because it was one of the only places he went to pick up women. Aside from the country club, of course, but he'd almost run entirely through its supply of hot milfs looking to cheat on their husbands. So now he was here, nursing a drink whilst he flirted with a hot blonde at the bar. That’s when he saw you. More dressed up than he’d ever seen you before, giggling at a guy's jokes, touching his arm whilst he kissed along your delicate face. He squeezed the glass in his hand so hard that it threatened to shatter. He slammed his glass into the polished bar top, leaving his maraschino cherry. And he never left his maraschino cherry.

Before he knew it he was striding over to you, uncaring about the looks he was getting as he parted the crowd like the Red Sea to get to you. You were stunned at the sight of him; his eyes narrowed, dark and dangerous, chest heaving, hair slightly tousled and nostrils flared as he stood tall, towering over you and the man you were fooling around with “Get up, Puppy. We’re leaving.” He demanded, waiting for you to comply. You remained seated “Puppy. Get up. Now.” He ordered sneering at the fact that he had to repeat himself, he had never had to do that with you. You had always followed commands the second they were uttered. You ignored him for the second time, he was livid. “Hey you. Yeah you, fuck face, who else I’m I talking to? Take a fucking walk okay? Just piss off.” the man shifted in his seat but you grabbed his wrist, looking at him with your puppy eyes. That broke him.

His pride took the back seat, as walked into the booth seizing your wrist and using little of his strength to pull you in his chest. His other hand drifting to the small of your back, your scent hit him. Fuck he needed you, more than he’d needed anyone before. He’d never noticed how much bigger he was than you, how he practically engulfed you. It made him hard. He picked you up, cradling you in his arms- as if you were a fragile baby—and grabbed your stuff before marching out of the bar towards his prized BMW. He set you down in the passenger seat and then got into the drivers side. You started to frantically pull at the door handle, trying to get out of here. You couldn’t be in here with him, you could feel all the words you’d wished you said tangling inside you; getting trapped in you throat forming a painful lump as your lip wobbled and tears rolled down your cheeks “Open the door! Ransom!” You thought you sounded fine aside from when you said his name, your voice quaked and you let out a little whimper. He noticed though and it made his heart ache at the sound of your pain. Finally you gave up on the door.

“The child lock is on, you won’t be running from me, Puppy. I need to talk to you, let’s get to my house first.” You didn’t respond “Do your seatbelt up.” You made no movement to do so, crossing your arms over your chest and looking out the window. Ransom leaned across you, buckling you in. He swiped at the tears on the cheek facing him, telling you it was going to be okay before turning the key and starting the drive back to his house.

You were silent the whole journey, aside from your sobs that you attempted to muffle in the sleeve of your auburn sweater. He put some calming music on low volume hoping to calm you. It didn’t work. Your sobs just became more ragged, he could see your whole body shaking in his peripheral vision as he pulled up to the house.

He immediately got out of the car, wasting no time as he practically ran to your side. Throwing open the door, swiftly unbuckling your seat belt and pressing you back into his chest, rocking you like an infant and shushing you as he rubbed soothing circles into your back. He locked the car and walked up to his house, struggling to unlock the door. He finally did, kicking the door open and shutting it ungracefully behind him as he entered the living room setting you down on the couch. He finally looked at your face. It was red and wrecked with tears and snot that you had attempted to rub away with your sleeve. You hiccuped as more tears came, the gravity of the situation crushing your chest pushing all your emotions out of you, you tried to cover yourself, to curl in on yourself so he couldn’t see your disheveled state as you unwound before him. He plopped down next to you and pulled you close “Y/N you need to look at me, okay? We need to talk about this. I need to know why you left.”

You slowly let down your arms “why I left? Ransom y-you k-know why I left.” You choked looking at him incredulously. He stared at you dumbfounded, he had no idea. “You make me feel s-so insignificant, you’re always so mean to m-me despite e-everything I do for y-you and you always ignore m-me and make me feel like I don’t even… I don’t even e-exist.” You cursed yourself for stuttering, you looked and sounded pitiful. You whimpered as his hand stroked your cheek, leaning into his cool hand for relief from the sweltering warmth that was stifling you.

“I never knew you felt like that. I was so lonely without you, Puppy.”

“Stop it.” You sniffled, face scrunching up in anger as you pulled away from his touch

“Stop what?”

“Calling me Puppy. I hate it. You always use it to make fun of me, you hate dogs Ransom so it’s your way of saying you h-hate me.” You mumble in a strained voice, a fresh stream of salty tears ran down your face as you choked painfully on the tight knot in your throat, a sob wracking your body as he squeezed you tighter into his muscular chest .

“I’m not making fun of you. I call you Puppy because you follow me around like one. I love you. This week without you made me realise that. I can’t be without you, my life falls to pieces when I don’t have you here. I love you, Puppy. I can’t see you with another man, it hurt so much and it made me so fucking angry.” He had to stop the anger from over taking him, he didn’t want to scare you, but just picturing that guy putting his lips on you made him want to ravish you. He began kissing your tears away and wiped your nose with a tissue from the table “No more crying okay? Because you’re making me cry too.” And it was true there were actual tears running down his face, for the first time ever he was actually crying. Your tiny hand cupped his face, marvelling at the tears that were actually falling from his eyes “I’ve known you loved me ever since we became friends. But I liked you chasing me.”

“You’re such an asshole Ransom.” You chuckled tucking yourself into the crook of his neck, he soon removed you.

“I know, but I’m your asshole, Puppy.” You swooned at the idea of him being yours, you’d always prayed the day would come when he’d say he loved you and now your dream had come true. His head dipped down just enough to be at level with yours and then he kissed you, curling his rough fingers into your hair as he deepened the kiss. It had started as an innocent kiss, but there was nothing innocent about the way his tongue crept into your mouth or the little moan you let out as he lightly tugged your hair. It metamorphosed into teeth and steamy gasps for air between kisses, your tongues thrashing together with insatiable hunger, as he pushed you back into the couch; your head resting against the arm rest as he continued to devour you. He finally pulled away and admired his handy work. Your lips were red and swollen and your eyes were clouded with lust, practically gawking at him as you shifted uncomfortably pleading for him to continue. Those puppy eyes would be the death of him.

He threw his cable knit sweater to the ground and slipped between your legs, tearing a hole in your tights and pushing your panties to the side. “Ransom you don’t have to do that.” You exclaimed, pushing at his head and squeezing your thighs closed, his strong hands parted them.

“Today is about you. I need to show you how much I love you, Puppy, and the best way to show you is with my mouth.” He ran his tongue between your dripping folds, he let out a deep moan when the taste of you reached him “So fucking sweet.” He growled, pushing his tongue into your clenching hole. One of his hands drifted down your clit, gathering some of your slick before circling the little bud of nerves as he attacked the spongy sweet spot inside of you. You threw your head back, your hands scrambling to take hold of his silky locks. Even his hair felt expensive. You drove your hips into his mouth forcing him further into you.

“Feels so good.” You pant as he pulls out his tongue and replaces it with his fingers, continuing to attack the spot that made your toes curl. His lips closed around your clit licking, sucking and biting ever so gently. He flicked his tongue over your pearl, relishing in your mewls

“That’s it, Puppy, you’re close. Come on my face. I want to taste you. Come.” He ordered, attacking you clit with new found vigour as your hips raised up off the sofa your thighs shook as the using warmth inside you came to its peak. You screamed as he abused your clit even through your orgasm, squirting all over his face. He lapped at you a few times before pulling away. Cold air kissing your tepid, wet pussy sending goosebumps across your skin. Ransom's face was glistening with your slick and his lips were swollen and red. He pulled your tights, underwear and skirt all at once and pulled your sweater over your head, leaving your nude body completely bare to his wandering gaze “you’re gorgeous.” He uttered, not intending for you to hear, stroking his calloused palms against your smooth skin, running his hand over every single curve and dip “I want to worship you, I’ll open a temple for just me and you because you are my goddess. I need to worship you.” You covered your face in embarrassment, he pulled your arms away from your face. “Don’t do that with me, Puppy, I want to see every single one of your beautiful expressions.” He cooed as he undid his pinstripe slacks and pulled down his boxers freeing his length that had been begging to escape, it was heavy and long with a thick vein tracing up the shaft. It twitched as he took a hold of the thick shaft, hovering it over your lower stomach “I’m going to fill you so we’ll, Puppy.” He rasped before nudging the head at your entrance. He pushed his whole length in with a grunt, his dick stretching your walls, relishing in your cries as your back arched further into him. Your hands wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer, sucking his shoulder. The scent of his cologne weaved it’s way into your lungs, it was an intoxicating woody magnolia with a hint of vanilla—he smelt like an expensive candle from bath and body works. It was so comforting. You nibbled his neck and he let out a groan and ruts so deep into you that your breath catches in your throat, you let out a high pitched yelp which melts into a moan as he grinds his tip against your cervix a mind numbing sensation blows through you as his nails dig into your hips his girthy cock perfectly rubbing against all the right spots.

your legs clamped around him, drawing him deeper into you, your fingers taking down his back leaving angry red streaks in their wake. You threw your head back, your mouth gaping open in a silent wail “You’re close, Puppy. Me too. Come whenever you want, I’m right behind you.” He moaned, bracing himself on his elbows on top of you.

“Gonna come! Gonna comeee Ransom!” You squealed, he squeezed your clit between his fingers. Plasmid starburst exploded behind your eyelids, sweat collecting at your clavicle as a pleasurable numbness coats your whole being. Ransom fucked you through your orgasm, his thrust becoming unquardinated reaching his peak with a grunt. His messed up hair, damp with sweat drags across your forehead as his lips connect with yours in a compassionate kiss. You let your eyelids fall closed.

Ransom cleaned you up with a warm rag and carried you up to his room, he wanted you to feel safe, to feel comfortable, to feel wanted. He stroked your sleeping face, trying to memorise your peaceful expression. He never wanted to see you upset ever again, he promised he wouldn’t cause you sadness. The only tears he wanted to see was from the pleasure he gave you “Never stop chasing me. I need you, Puppy.” He whispered, placing a kiss on your forehead and leaning back letting out a content sigh. All he needed was you.

Tag list: @alina02 @unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men @petesey @cevansgurl @getwellsoontana

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fandomfluffandfuck · 4 months

Note

you wrote once abt a scene with ransom drysdale x dom mommy and it was fucking PHENOMENAL but i was thinking about what you think it would be like with a daddy instead of a mommy

related to this, and this

you'll probably enjoy this, too

I'm not taking requests right now, I know it's confusing because there are some thoughts people send me that I can't help but jump in on, and I reblog older requests. But. Yes. I'm not currently.

This is a really interesting thought, though! 👀

And there certainly needs to be more x male reader content out there. So, maybe eventually, I'll go back to this in a larger drabble 🤷🏻‍♂️

I think it'd be much the same, though. I purely imagine Ransom as a subby fucking mess. After years and years of being spoiled and living the high life, he's weak for being denied. Cock cages and permission to orgasm are the top of his kink list. Nothing makes him go quite as glass eyed and stupid as being told he has to earn his orgasms and then, even when he does earn them, one slip up of being bratty and... oh, isn't that unfortunate? Maybe Daddy will have to add another week onto your stay in that chastity cage. Isn't that sad, Hugh?

He'll absolutely try to make it up to you by slobbering on your dick, but you just make him blush and squirm, acting like it does nothing for you by degrading him, saying he's not pleasing you. He's all enthusiasm, no finesse. And, fuck, look at the mess you're making! C'mon, step up, Ransom. You're not making a good case for yourself.

That really lights the fire under his ass, leaving him pouting, lower lip wobbling, and teary-eyed. Determined to brat harder until he just... breaks. Sobbing and shaking and clinging to you, begging for forgiveness. He's trying so hard! It's not faaair!

Thanks for the ask! 😘

#asks #ransom drysdale #ransom x reader #x reader #ransom x male!reader #x male!reader #ransom drysdale x male!reader #idk how to tag x reader stuff lmao #sub ransom #dom reader #fandomfluffandfuck

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littlelioncub43 · 1 year

Note

Ransom getting slapped by reader and getting so turned on😵‍💫 he’s just like “I-uhm…”, instead of cursing you out he turns into a shy subby

Oh man hehehe yes 😈

The moment your hand came into contact with his cheek, he let out a fluttering moan. The tilt of your head told him that you were surprised, but the growing smirk on your pretty lips told him that you were pleased.

"Oh, Ransom," you coo, condescension dripping from your tongue as you slide your hand along his jawline, caressing the stinging skin as he looked at you through his lashes. Another sound pulled itself from the cavity of his chest all on its own at the tender feeling of your hand on him, his cock painfully hard in his trousers. The weight of his head leaning into your warm palm made the giddy feeling in your heart spike happily.

"Another?" You ask calmly, stroking his bottom lip possessively, already not wanting to share your new little toy.

"Yes," he sighs under his breath. A moment passes with both of you just staring, silently reaffirming to each other that this was what you wanted.

"Alright, pet."

#murderer monday #murderer monday drabble fest #ransom drysdale smut #ransom drysdale x reade #ransom drydale x you #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x female!reader #ransom drysdale x fem!reader #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale x female reader #ransom drysdale x reader #sub!ransom drysdale x dom!reader

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ellethespaceunicorn-masterlist · 8 months

Text

🎧Elle the Space Unicorn's Masterlist🎧

Reader inserts will have no descriptors, OFCs will be black and plus-sized(unless otherwise stated). I love being able to give girls/femmes who look like me the chance to romance some of their faves.

🎧Bless my current muse...🎧

I love to write fanfiction. Right now, my main muse is Henry Cavill. But I also like some Chris Evans and Sebastian Stan characters (see below who I will write for - send prompts or requests to @ellethespaceunicorn HERE).

Masterlist is under the Cut...

Bright Like The Moon (ongoing)

Love, Napoleon (ongoing)

Scrapbook (finished)

Daddy Knows Best (possibly on hiatus)

Don't Take My Sunshine Away (possibly on hiatus)

Touch and Go (possibly ongoing)

The Howling in Claw Creek Forest (ongoing)

What Are You Doing, StepBro?

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Humphrey x Stepsister!Reader

Summary: You and Humphrey don’t have the best start, but before long you will reach an arrangement.

Hold Me Til I Scream For Air To Breathe

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Sub!Clark Kent x Domme!Reader

Summary: Clark needs to give over to his submissive urges, specifically he yearns to be tied up and owned.

I Want a Little Sugar in My Bowl

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Napoleon Solo x Reader

Summary: Napoleon wines and dines.

Make That Kitty Purr {DARK FIC}

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Mike x Reader, August Walker x Reader

Fandom: Hellraiser: Hellworld x Mission: Impossible - Fallout, Crossover AU

Summary: Uncle August doesn’t give a shit that you’re Mike’s girlfriend.

Make That Kitty Purr [Director's Cut] {DARKER FIC}

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Mike x Reader, August Walker x Reader

Fandom: Hellraiser: Hellworld x Mission: Impossible - Fallout, Crossover AU

Summary: Uncle August doesn’t give a shit that you’re Mike’s girlfriend. This is the darker pre-edited version.

Some Things You Just Can’t Refuse

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Dom!Clark Kent x Sub!Reader

Summary: A collection of first times with Clark Kent, and one last time.

Happy Birthday, Cupcake

Rating: General

Pairing: Clark Kent x PlusSize!Reader

Summary: Clark surprises you for your birthday.

Treat Me Like A Slut

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: August Walker x Reader

Summary: August has had enough of your antics, and you’re going to pay for it.

Sometimes The Silence Guides A Mind

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Reader

Summary: As you were getting close to Sherlock, he stops visiting. You pop over to Baker Street and share an eye-opening moment.

Don't Take Your Eyes Off It

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Steve Rogers x Black!Fem!Reader

Summary: It’s Valentine’s Day, and you have a surprise for Steve!

Fifteen Minutes

Character: Walter Marshall x Unnamed Black!OFC

Rating: Explicit

Summary: What Walter does with 15 minutes of his time.

There Is A Light That Never Goes Out

Pairing: Syverson x Reader

Rating: Mature

Summary: When an unexpected pregnancy rocks your already uncertain world, you decide the best option is to run. Apocalypse AU.

Pretty As A Picture

Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Summary: What started as a hobby day in the park turns into Lloyd Hansen showing you why taking photos of strangers is a bad idea.

Something Old, Something New

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Nick Fowler x Reader

Summary: Your childhood best friend invites you to your old vacation spot for her wedding, and you have been catching up with your first crush: her recently divorced big brother Nick.

Oxytocin

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Older!Black!Fem!OFC

Summary: At a New Year's Eve party, Ransom Drysdale's life is forever changed by a chance meeting with Ivy Kensington.

My Little Strawberry

Pairing: Syverson x Black!Reader (Peaches)

Rating: Mature

Summary: A follow-up to Shape Up. Sy has a conversation with his baby girl while she’s still in your stomach.

Doing Something Unholy

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Charles Brandon x Reader

Summary: This is a prompt fill for some teasing of Charles Brandon and then him taking over.

Praise You

Rating: General, pure fluff

Pairing: Clark Kent x Insecure PlusSize!Reader

Summary: Clark Kent loves everything about you, especially what you think are your flaws.

Get My Pretty Name Outta Your Mouth

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Walter Marshall x Reader

Summary: You hate everything about Detective Walter Marshall. He feels the same about you. Now, kiss!

Shape-Up

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Cpt Syverson x Black!Reader (Peaches)

Summary: Syverson and his girl, Peaches, try and trim his beard without causing a ruckus. Spoiler alert: they fail.

Follow-up to Shape-Up: My Little Strawberry

The Paganini Problem

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Wife!Reader

Summary: Being Sherlock’s wife proves to be difficult when a case stumps him.

Power Play: After Hours

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x Assistant!Black!Reader

Summary: What happens when Lloyd sees you, his assistant, in something other than what you usually wear? Well, you should be worried about what he does when he sees you.

No Good Deeds

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Landlord!Ari Levinson x Reader

Summary: Moving out on your own is challenging, but your landlord, Mr. Levinson is kind and helpful. But he may want more from you than your tenancy.

Executive Temptation

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: CEO!August Walker x Employee!Reader

Summary: You’ve caught the eye of CEO August Walker. What happens when he asks you to go to his private office?

Walter Marshall - Hobbies

Lloyd Hansen - Family, Quirks/Hobbies, Sleep

Lloyd Hansen - What happens when reader starts dressing to match lloyd?

Walter Marshall (Night Hunter)

Geralt of Rivia (The Witcher)

Clark Kent (Man of Steel, BvS, Justice League)

Humphrey (Stardust)

Charles Brandon (The Tudors)

Mike (Hellraiser: Hellworld)

Napoleon Solo (The Man from U.N.C.L.E.)

August Walker (Mission: Impossible - Fallout)

Will Shaw (The Cold Light of Day)

Sherlock Holmes (Enola Holmes films)

Captain Syverson (Sand Castle)

Evan Marshall (Blood Creek)

Melot (Tristan and Isolde)

Thomas Apreas (Hotel Laguna)

Chas Quilter (The Inspector Lyndley Mysteries)

Stephen Colley (I Capture the Castle)

I DO NOT WRITE RPF FOR HENRY

Lloyd Hansen (The Gray Man)

Andy Barber (Defending Jacob)

Ransom Drysdale (Knives Out)

Steve Rogers (Avengers films)

Curtis Everett (Snowpiercer)

Ari Levinson (The Red Sea Diving Resort)

Nick Gant (PUSH)

Jake Jensen (The Losers)

Frank Adler (Gifted)

I DO NOT WRITE RPF FOR CHRIS

Bucky Barnes (Marvel)

Charles Blackwood (We Have Always Lived in the Castle)

Steve Kemp (Fresh)

Max (Sharper)

Nick Fowler (The 355)

Lee Bodecker (The Devill All The Time)

Chris (Destroyer)

Justin Capshaw (Law & Order)

I DO NOT WRITE RPF FOR SEBASTIAN

Let me know if you wanna be added and for what plz, so far only these categories 😁 Let me know if you ever want to be removed!

General Fanfiction (Everything)

Henry Character Fanfiction

Chris Character Fanfiction

August Walker

Bright Like The Moon

Love, Napoleon!

Daddy Knows Best

Don't Take My Sunshine Away

The Howling in Claw Creek Forest

~Please DON'T ask me to tag you in a series that you've never 'liked' or 'reblogged'. It's just kind of rude. Also, don't ask for an ETA on the next chapter.~

*Blog Header, Cover Art for fics, Masterlist Header/MDNI 18+ Banner, Support/Reblog banner and Masterlist Dividers made by me in Canva*

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nicoline1998enilocin · 8 months

Text

Mommy's good boy

PAIRING | Sub!Ransom Drysdale x Soft Dom!Female!Reader

WORD COUNT | 4K

SUMMARY | Ransom has been under a lot of stress lately, and all he needs is to forget about all of it, and give himself completely over to his needs. The only person who can help him with that like no one else can, is his wife.

WARNING(S) | This is your official trigger warning. Do not proceed if any of these topics upset you. Established relationship [ Husband & Wife ], D/S dynamics [ Sub!Ransom & Soft Dom!Reader ], swearing, smut [ subspace, slight dumbification, mommy kink, oral fixation (finger sucking), praise/praise kink, subtle edging, anal fingering, use of a butt plug, thigh riding, nipple play, lactation kink (without milk), slight bondage (use of handcuffs), oral (F&M receiving simultaneous), face riding, unprotected vaginal sex, squirting, anal pegging with a strap-on, a lot of aftercare ].

A/N | This is my first fic for the wonderful Ransom Drysdale, so let me know what you think! I'd also love to start writing for him more, so please don't hesitate to drop your requests in my inbox! 🖤

Likes, comments and reblogs will be very much appreciated 🩷

Divider is made by @firefly-graphics

Main Masterlist | Ransom Drysdale Masterlist

You got home earlier than usual today since you only worked for a half day, using some of your much-needed time off. Now you're working on preparing dinner for yourself and your husband, Ransom.

When you're about to put the casserole you made into the oven, the door slams open and shut, notifying you that said husband just arrived home, and he isn't happy.

''Hi Puppy, how was your day?'' you ask him, and you immediately see his facade slipping at the nickname. You can tell he needs you more than ever, and you're willing to do exactly what he needs right now.

''F-fuck, I just- I need you, need you to care of me and forget everything,'' Ransom says as he walks over to you, clinging onto you like a lost puppy.

You decide to finish dinner later and tell Ransom to go upstairs and assume the position. He quickly runs upstairs and practically tears off his clothes. He puts them in the laundry basket like you taught him and sits on the bed.

He is facing the door so he can see you walk in, but he's completely naked, on his knees and his hands behind his back. His cock is throbbing and rock hard, precum leaking from the tip.

You make a quick stop in your walk-in closet to change your outfit. Sure, the lingerie you wore is lovely, but you decide to treat Ransom a little and put on the new black set you bought recently.

''Are you ready, Puppy?'' you ask when you walk in the door, and he can't answer because his jaw is practically on the floor when he sees you in the lacey black garments.

''Does my Puppy suddenly not know how to talk anymore?'' you coo at him as you walk over with a slightly exaggerated sway of your hips, Ransom's eyes following every last step.

He shakes his head because, of course, he knows how to talk, but words seem to get lost in his throat, and his mind gets a little fuzzy. He enjoys getting lost in this headspace but wants to enjoy everything you have in store for him.

''R-ready, Mommy,'' he manages to get out, feeling himself slip further into the fuzziness.

You walk over to the bed and know you're not too rough on him tonight because it will mainly be about his pleasure. When you're there, you crawl onto the bed to where Ransom's sitting.

''Are you going to be a good boy for Mommy today?'' you ask, letting your hand slide softly over his cheek as he leans into your touch.

''Yes,'' he whispers, and you pull him in for a loving, sweet kiss which you don't deepen, but the moment you pull away from him, you hear soft whimpers from Ransom.

''Don't worry, baby; I'm gonna take good care of you tonight, so you don't have to worry about anything. And I will let you cum whenever you need to, as often as you need to. Tonight is all about you,'' you tell him, and his eyes shoot open, looking into yours.

Your hand moves from his cheek to his mouth, and you touch his bottom lip with your index- and middle finger, putting them in his mouth when he opens up for you.

His mouth closes, and his eyes flutter shut again while he sucks your fingers. ''You're being such a good boy for Mommy right now; you're doing great, Puppy,'' you tell him, and you see his thick cock twitching at the praise.

He starts sucking harder when you press down on his tongue, and as much as he wants to touch you, he fights his urges right now. He knows you will treat him well if he listens, and he can't wait.

You pull your fingers out of his mouth, and he looks at you through half-lidded eyes, giving him a fucked out look already despite not having done anything yet.

''Alright, Puppy. Sit on your hands and knees for Mommy so I can prep you for later. I'd love to fuck you later, so we need to insert a plug first,'' you tell him, and he does so without protest.

''Hmm, such a perfect Puppy for me right now. You're listening so well, and I'm so proud of you,'' you tell him as your hand snakes around his hips towards his hard, leaking cock.

Your hand wraps around the base, and you tug a few times, giving him just enough pleasure to drift even further into the fuzziness, but not enough to make him cum, yet.

''M-mommy! Please!'' he whimpers as you take your hand away.

''You get to cum soon, Puppy, don't worry. First the prep, then I will make you feel so good you can only think of me,'' you tell him, and you place a trail of kisses from his shoulder to his hip.

The lube and the plug you need for the prep are on the nightstand, so you move away from Ransom and off the bed to retrieve them. You pick them up and show the jet-black plug to Ransom, who starts salivating at the sight.

You move back to the bed, and this time he's wiggling his ass for you, notifying you he's more than ready for you to start working the plug into him.

''It will be cold, Puppy, but don't worry. Mommy's proud of you, and I know you will be my perfect boy,'' you coo at him, making him moan softly.

You squirt some lube onto your fingers before spreading his ass cheeks with your other hand, bringing them to his puckering and slightly pulsing hole.

As soon as your fingers make contact Ransom's hips buck up against your fingers, making you grin widely. ''Such a needy boy for me, huh? You need Mommy's fingers in you?'' you ask teasingly.

Ransom knows the answer to this, he really does, but he can't seem to get it out of his mouth. His mind is entirely blank, except for the feeling he's experiencing, pure and utter bliss.

''You can just nod, Puppy. I know you've had a hard day, so just a nod is okay for today,'' you tell him as you give him soft kisses. When the words sink in, he nods and releases a quiet 'yes' too.

''Good boy,'' you say, and your fingers first twirl around his rim a little until he relaxes, so you can push your middle finger into the first knuckle.

''Look at that, Puppy, you're taking me so well right now. It feels fantastic to have me fill you up, huh?'' you say as you work the rest of your finger in with soft thrusts, making sure to take your time with him.

It doesn't take long for him to take your entire fingers with ease, so you decide to add another, and when Ransom feels that, he lets out a deep groan from deep within.

''F-fuck, Mommy!'' he groans at your extra finger, which he also takes without a problem.

''You're doing so amazing for me, Puppy. Taking my fingers so well, can't wait to fill you up with my thick cock later,'' you say, pumping your fingers out faster as his moans become more erratic.

''Is my Puppy going to cum on Mommy's fingers? Go ahead, you know you're allowed to tonight,'' you say, and with a few more quick pumps of your fingers against his prostate, he cums, thick white ropes of cum shoot onto the bed from his throbbing cock.

''M-MOMMY, YES!'' he screams out as you work him through his orgasm, and you feel your own panties get wet at the power of the orgasm that washes over your husband.

''You did so well for Mommy, Puppy. You're my best boy right now, cumming beautifully for Mommy. When the plug is in, I will clean you up with my tongue as a reward for being such a good boy for me,'' you tell him, and his cheeks turn a deep red color at all the praise.

Because of all your praise, he didn't notice your fingers slip out until he suddenly felt the plug teasing against his hole.

''Relax, Puppy. I'm going slow, so all you have to do is relax for Mommy,'' you say, and he does, his chest now lying on the bed, too, so his ass is even higher.

Your hand nudges his thighs a little further apart, and you work the plug slowly into him, which feels fantastic as he's gradually getting stretched around the metal of the plug.

''Just a little more before it's in Puppy; you can take it. Bet you already feel so full right now, huh?'' you say, and he nods with a moan when it fully slides in.

''Fuck, your ass looks absolutely amazing with that jewel in there,'' you say as you tap on the white diamond at the plug's base.

Ransom lets out a deep moan at the feeling, and you place a few small kisses on his ass cheeks before letting him sit on his knees again.

He has to shift several times to find a comfortable position with the plug. Still, once he does, he looks at you, wondering what's next, and you can tell there's not a single thought behind those eyes right now.

''The Puppy deserves a great reward, and I promised to clean you up. Go lay on your back for me so I can do just that,'' you say as you guide him onto his back.

He has gone soft again after his orgasm, and even though it takes him a little while to get hard again after his orgasms, you don't mind.

When he's lying down, you move until you're between his thighs, and your tongue starts licking softly at the tip of his sensitive cock. His back arches as soft groans leave his throat, but it feels oh-so-good.

''Mommy, please,'' he whines, and you're reveling in the thought that you're the only thing on his mind right now. Nothing happens in his head except for you and how good you make him feel.

''Don't worry, Puppy, I'm still here, and you're going to make Mommy feel good, okay?'' you tell him, and he nods softly. You finish cleaning him off with your tongue and move up to him, straddling his thigh as you hold his face in your hands and lean in for a deep kiss.

You have always had a thing for Ransom's thick and muscled thighs, so you're planning to take full advantage of that now.

Once your soaking cunt makes contact with his thigh, you let out a deep moan, and Ransom's eyes flutter shut at the sound, knowing he's the one pulling it out of you.

''You feel so good, Puppy. Gonna let you make Mommy cum. Can you flex those muscles for me?'' you ask, and he does, and you immediately start riding him.

The moans you're letting out are borderline pornographic, but seeing your beautiful husband be turned into a puddle of mush underneath your fingers gets you going like nothing else can.

''R-Ransom, yes! Fuck, doing so good for me! 'M gonna cum for you,'' you say as the fabric of your panties gives you precisely the right amount of friction you need right now.

In combination with him flexing his thigh muscles, your orgasm washes over you quickly, pulling moans from deep within you, and soft moans coming from Ransom make you cum fast and violently.

''Mommy, need to taste you,'' Ransom says as he finally manages to lift his arms, softly grabbing your breasts and rubbing his long, thin fingers over your now hard nipples.

''Need your milk,'' he croaks out, and his hands move to the clasp on the back while you lean forward. He quickly rips it off your shoulders when it's open and attaches his mouth to your left nipple.

The suckling sounds from his mouth and his hands on your ass almost send you head first into another orgasm; your breath picks up when he lands a hard slap on your ass.

''Fuck, yes! Keep sucking on Mommy's tits, and I'll cum for you,'' you tell him; he doesn't have to be told twice. His hands keep guiding you back and forth over his thighs, and your head swings back as your second orgasm rushes through your veins and body.

''RANSOM, YES! You feel so fucking good, suck on Mommy's tits like that; Take all the milk you need from Mommy's tits, Puppy. Such a good boy for me right now, doing perfect for me,'' you pant as you ride out your orgasm.

Ransom quickly moves over to your other nipple and sucks the hard nub into his mouth, grazing his teeth over it, sending shocks up and down your spine.

When his mouth releases your nipple, you fall forward, and your whole body is splayed over Ransom. His arms circle around your waist as he holds you close while you recover from

everything that happened.

''You're doing absolutely perfect for me; you're doing so good for Mommy,'' you whisper in Ransom's ear, and he feels like absolute heaven right now. He needs you and your sweet words, precisely what you're giving him.

The two of you are lying like that for a few minutes. When you get back up, you can see that Ransom is already hard again, so you quickly attach the handcuffs to the headboard for the next part of the evening.

''Give me your hands, Puppy. I'll just tie these to the headboard for now, but if you're a good boy for Mommy, I'll let you out of them to help me feel good,'' you tell him, and his eyes flutter closed at the thought, a small smile appearing on his lips.

''Love you, Mommy,'' he says, and your heart melts at those words.

''I love you too, my sweet boy,'' you say as you lean down for a soft kiss.

When the handcuffs are attached, his hands are wrapped tight enough but not too tight to not hurt him.

You look back down at Ransom and see he is still hard. ''Hmm, Mommy's is going to make you feel so good, Puppy,'' you say as you climb onto the bed and over his chest, your ass facing Ransom's head.

You lean down to give him soft kisses on the tip of his dick, and he hisses softly at the feeling. ''Now I'm gonna let you have some fun too, Puppy,'' you say, and you remove your panties before sitting down on his face.

He immediately knows what he needs to do, and his tongue starts swirling through your folds, over your clit, and into your entrance while you writhe on top of him.

''Oh, R-Ransom, Jesus, that feels amazing,'' you say, and when you're about to reach your orgasm, you put your hands on his chest, riding him through your orgasm.

When you're done, you lean forward and take his achingly hard cock into your mouth, wrapping your hand around the part you can't get to with your mouth.

Ransom doesn't let up and keeps fucking his tongue into your entrance, needing to get every last drop of arousal out of you. ''Oh, Puppy, yes! Right there,'' you tell him as his lips attach around your clit, and he sucks like his life depends on it.

Suddenly you get an idea, and while you're sucking Ransom off, your fingers trail down to his ass, gripping the plug's base and softly moving it inside as it hits his perfect spot each time.

''M-Mommy, gonna cum!'' he says when he finally lets go of your cunt, and before you know it, he shoots his cum deep into your throat, and you swallow every last drop of it.

''Hm, you're Mommy's good boy, aren't you? Making me cum like that, you're the most perfect Puppy Mommy could ever wish for,'' you tell him when you've turned around, placing soft kisses on his face.

He looks absolutely fucked out, and he feels like his limbs are noodles at this point. He has a content smile, and his head lulls to the side, giving you the perfect opportunity to shower his neck with kisses and love marks.

You move over to straddle Ransom's hips, and you line his cock up with your entrance when he's hard again after a few strokes, sinking down in a single move.

The groan from Ransom is almost animalistic at the feeling of your tight, soft walls clenching around him. ''Fuck, you feel so fucking good when you're this deep inside me,'' you pant out.

He is trying to fight against his restraints, but he doesn't have enough strength to do it right now, so eventually, he gives up and lets you use him however you need.

''Yeah, look at you, Puppy. Letting Mommy use you as her personal sex toy, huh? Being such a perfect fuck doll for Mommy to use however she pleases,'' you say, and your nails scratch over his chest, making him groan again.

The pain and pleasure combined feel so good in his fuzzy headspace. Before realizing what's happening, he's cumming again, deep inside you, as you clench around him.

You follow him soon after, and you're so sensitive after him hitting your sweet spot so many times that you squirt all over his legs, stomach, and bed while screaming his name.

''Mommy,'' he murmurs, and you lean forward, cradling his face in your hands as you kiss his lips softly.

Then you climb off him, and he whines when he slides out of you. You release his arms from the restraints and rub the red marks softly before placing kisses.

He pulls you in for a cuddle, and you must remind him that you're not done yet.

''Not yet, Puppy, I still have to make you feel good; remember when we put the plug in?'' you say, and you gently tap it. His back arches at the feeling, and he moans softly.

''Mommy's gonna make you feel even better by filling you up way better than they ever could,'' you tell him, and he nods slowly. ''Don't worry, I'll make you feel so good; you've been such a good boy for me after all,'' you say, and you give him a soft kiss on his forehead.

You prepared your harness earlier, so you can step into it and return to the bed. Ransom opens his eyes and lifts his head to see what you're doing, and his eyes go wide at the sight of the dildo between your legs.

''M-Mommy, it's too big,'' he croaks out, but you assure him it'll fit.

''Don't worry, Puppy. We've used this one before, and you always were such a good boy for me, so I know it'll fit again,'' you tell him, and you give kisses from his chest down his stomach.

Your fingers wrap around the plug's base, and you slowly start working it out of Ransom while giving his dick a few more licks and kisses to relax him. He finally releases the plug with a soft whine, and you lube up the dildo attached to your harness.

When you're ready, you grab Ransom's legs and fold them back for him, ordering him to hold onto him as you line up with his gaping hole. ''I'm gonna go slow, Puppy, don't worry,'' you reassure him and start pushing in.

''Fuck, you're doing so good for me; look at how good your ass is taking me right now,'' you say, your head thrown back as you push yourself deeper into him.

When you bottom out, you immediately start thrusting, not giving him time to adjust to catch him off-guard one last time.

''Oh, Mommy, feels so full!'' Ransom moans out, and the grin on your face isn't going anywhere when you see the wholly fucked out look your perfect husband has on his face right now.

You start thrusting faster, and your hand finds its way to his hard cock, and you start pumping him in time with your thrusts, making him pant and moan like crazy.

''Come on, Puppy, I know you can give me one more orgasm, after that I'll take good care of you and treat you like the perfect boy you are for Mommy,'' you say, and with a few more thrusts, his cum spurts out, over his chest and abdomen, making a mess.

After that, you slowly pull out, and Ransom whines at a loss again. Still, you quickly unbuckle and step out of your harness before going to the headboard and grabbing two bottles of water from the nightstand.

You always like to be prepared with water and snacks when Ransom is in a subspace like this.

''Come on, Baby, you're okay; we're all done. It's time for cuddles right now,'' you say, and you're sitting up against the headboard, allowing Ransom to sit between your legs and with his back against your chest.

You twisted open the water bottle cap and slowly put it against Ransom's lips so he could take little sips of it.

''That's it, Baby, you're doing very good for me right now,'' you tell him when he has finished half the bottle. Then you grab a chocolate bar, break small bits off, and feed it to him while he's slowly coming down from his headspace, ensuring he won't have a sub-drop later.

''I love you so much, Ransom. I'm so glad I have met you and that I have gotten the chance to fall in love with you,'' you whisper to him, and when he's come down enough, he tells you he loves you too.

''Love you too, Cookie,'' he says, and you can't help but smile at the nickname he gave you when you started buying his favorite Biscoff cookies before the two of you were officially dating.

You and Ransom sat on the bed like that before it was officially time to clean each other up. The two of you moved your cuddle session to the shower when he could finally stand on his legs again.

Now here you are, holding onto your husband, your hands making lazy patterns over his back, his hands washing your hair with the shampoo he loves so much.

''Thank you for coming to me when you needed me the most, Ransom. I'm still grateful you trust me to such a level,'' you tell him, and he leans down for a kiss.

''There's no one else I trust more than you, Cookie. And there's nothing else I'd rather come home to than my gorgeous wife. I still find it hard to believe you wanted to marry me, but I'm so fucking glad you did,'' he says, rinsing out your hair, making sure no soap gets into your eyes.

''You're the best husband a woman could ever ask for, Baby, you really are,'' you say, standing on your tip-toes to kiss him this time.

''And you're the best wife I could ever have,'' he tells you.

After the shower, you help each other dry off and slip into some comfortable clothing, and Ransom lends you one of his sweaters to cuddle in.

The two of you go to the couch, where you just cuddle for the rest of the night while watching a movie, content in the silence that hangs around you.

That night the two of you sleep like logs, and you wake up tangled up in each other.

''Good morning, Cookie,'' he says as he pulls you closer. This is precisely what you've always dreamt of. Waking up on a wintery Saturday morning with the love of your life and not a single worry for either of you.

When it is finally time for you to get up, you walk to the kitchen while holding each other's hand.

''Would my perfect husband like some waffles or pancakes?'' you ask, and he just sits you on the counter.

''I have an entirely different idea about breakfast,'' he says as he drops to his knees, pulling your panties to the side and diving in like he hasn't eaten in weeks.

Yeah, this is perfection, you think to yourself while cumming.

#ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale fanfiction #ransom drysdale fanfic #ransom drysdale one shot #ransom drysdale imagine #ransom drysdale x female reader #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x y/n #ransom drysdale fluff #ransom drysdale smut #sub!ransom drysdale #sub ransom drysdale #sub!ransom #sub ransom #d/s relationship

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biteofcherry · 21 days

Note

Hello Eva! I hope I'm not too late for your train ride!

But I was wondering if there were any little morsels you could give us about RG Dom Ransom and his sub. I think so far we've learned that he's into service submission and she's maybe a little older. I was hoping you might be able to expand on that a little or give us some extra details like favorite kink/punishment/reward.

I hope you have a great trip, dear!

Hi Kris 😊 Thanks for sending!

Dom Ransom is still mostly in the sketching/outlining phase, so I don't have that much about him.

Yes, he's looking for a service sub and while on the veneer it feels like him wanting someone to tend to his narcissistic needs, actually it's about something else entirely. Ransom knows what it feels to want to make someone proud and happy, how sometimes it borders on wanting to earn love. He unfortunately never got that from anyone, which is why he turned jaded. But he understands how important it is for someone showing their submission through acts of service to be appreciated and taken care of in return. And Ransom knows he can give that.

And yes, also because he enjoys a submissive bringing him drink and food, but that comes from mutual fulfilment.

His submissive will be older than him, around 40 (Ransom is about 30-34) and she is a soft sweetheart afraid that she's too old for him, too old to find a Dom in general, as well scared that no Dom would want to give her enough arrention and praise, or set the proper boundaries to her service (because she sometimes goes overboard).

In their dynamic main kinks will include: servicing (food, drinks, massage), holding position for a long time (including being a "table" for Ransom's drink), overstimulation and edging, maid/slave costumes. Not much discipline through impact. Rather more spoiling and praise.

#krirebr #reply #Dom!Ransom Drysdale #don't even have a title for his story #or the name for his sub #still in the works #Ruby Garden #Ruby Garden series #ransom drysdale x reader

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foxgloveprincess · 9 months

Text

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Female Reader [Second Person Narrator]

Summary: You didn’t mean to catch Ransom’s attention, and you’ll do whatever it takes to lose it.

Word Count: 8.1k

Attic Wives Anonymous Masterlist

Warnings: UnBeta’d, Dark, Dubious Consent (Kissing, Blow Job, Vaginal Sex, Overstimulation, Mild Degradation/Humiliation, Praise Kink), Coercion (Payment for Sex), Stalking, Fear/Paranoia, Yandere Vibes, BDSM (Dom/sub, Exhibitionism, Rope Bondage, Suspension, Aftercare, Leather Cuffs), Pet Names (dear, birdie, pidge). Minors do not interact (18+).

A/N: Hope you enjoy it. Let me know if I should continue it! Up next is A.W.A. Meeting (#2), then hopefully Lloyd.

I love feedback, so go ahead and reblog if you want. However, I give no permission to copy, translate, rewrite or post my work on any third party website or app. Seeing my work posted anywhere beside my blog, my library blog, or my AO3 account (FoxglovePrincess) means it’s been stolen/plagiarized.

I don’t do tag lists, so follow @foxglovefics to sign up for notifications on my fics.

Please DO NOT click ‘Keep Reading’ if you are not 18+ years of age or if you are uncomfortable with the pairing, themes, dynamics, or warnings. You are responsible for your own media consumption. Thank you!

The song has been stuck in your head all day. Soft and sweet and romantic, it buzzes past your lips in a quiet hum while you end your work day by tidying your space.

“You know,” Harlan says as he leans back in his chair, contemplation narrowing his stare, “my offer still stands to make you my full-time personal assistant.”

You sigh and continue to clean up your papers, clipping them in neat packets for easy access when the research becomes relevant. “And you know I have other commitments.” You glance over your shoulder with a grin and shrug. “I can’t leave Chase hanging.” You snort at the unintended pun and continue working. Your hand brushes a spec of fuzz from the corner of your table, leaving it immaculate.

Harlan makes a noise of agreement and sits up before standing. “Well, if things ever change.”

“You’ll be the first to know,” you agree. The final clip snaps onto your last packet. “Now,” you address your boss with a playfully stern finger pointed in his direction, “don’t mess this up.” You nod toward the space set aside as your desk. Pens, post-its, and papers neat in a row.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” There’s a mischievous twinkle in the man’s eye, and you know you’ll be reorganizing on Monday morning, but you don’t mind. Not when Harlan’s done so much for you, and you know he’ll inevitably make your job easier somehow.

The dogs start barking outside. The front door slams and heavy steps thud toward the kitchen. No greeting, no real indication of who it might be. But you’ve worked in the Thrombey house long enough to make an educated guess.

“Looks like your grandson’s paying you a visit,” you muse while packing away the last of your belongings. “Don’t tear each other to pieces, alright? I still need this job at the end of the weekend.”

Harlan chuckles and shakes his head. He’s a good man, kind but indomitable. You admire him a moment longer. Fond warmth reflects back at you in his gaze. You’ll never forget how lucky you were he decided to take a chance on you.

“Goodnight,” you bid with a smile.

Harlan sends the same after you as you turn to the stairs, waiting for his grandson to make his surely dramatic entrance. The Go board already in hand. You wonder if he will take his grandfather up on the challenge.

Passing Marta and Fran on your way out the door, you say your farewells. And you almost make it out before coming face to face with the notorious ass—Hugh Ransom Drysdale. To think you’d been able to avoid him for so long. You should have taken the back exit through the patio.

“Who’re you?” he asks, inspecting you like a blot of dirt on his Beemer.

“Hello, Mr. Drysdale,“ you greet softly, short and professional. His head tilts and his gaze narrows at the address. “I’m expected elsewhere. If you’ll excuse me.” But you don’t wait for him to move, skirting around his broad frame before making it out the front door. His stare burning into your back the whole way. Constant, uncomfortable.

Safe and locked in your car, you’re able to shake it off. At least for a moment. When it starts to creep back up your spine while pulling out of the driveway, your hand reaches over to flick on your stereo, blasting the feeling away. You sing along, belting out any lingering unease. Getting yourself ready and letting the week’s stress seep from you.

The drive back into the city winds long, but passes quickly. Only forty minutes. But part of that convenience is negated by the absolute bear it is to find parking downtown. Another ten minutes of struggle before you get out—the urban parking gods not on your side tonight. Your car beeps with the lock and you sigh. It’ll be a longer walk.

The sun sinks behind the buildings and the orange glow of the streetlights paint the sidewalks. You bundle yourself in your jacket, shift your duffle higher on your shoulder, and start marching. One foot in front of the other. Glancing at familiar storefronts and navigating around the few passersby finding their Friday night adventure.

By the second block, you pause. The hairs on the back of your neck prickle. Eyes bore into you from behind. Heated, focused. You spin on your heel, but find no culprit. You swallow and breathe deep. Just your imagination, surely. Maybe.

“Fuck,” you mutter under your breath and turn to begin walking again. Quicker.

Your steps beat light on the pavement, though you don’t want to seem rushed. Trying to find a steady, rapid pace that doesn’t signal your distress. Still, the sensation doesn’t cease.

The evening gets darker and you see Chase’s studio in the distance. The industrial building looming and dark, intimidating. But your safe haven. The back door stands just within reach. You knock a rapid shave-and-a-haircut on the wood and wait for it to open. Phantom fingers dance along the back of your neck and you whip around. The alley stands empty save for a grimy dumpster and a few trash bags. Yet your heartbeat continues to thunder in your ears.

“There you are,” a gruff yet relieved voice exclaims. Long fingers wrap around your bicep and pull you in, the door closing behind you and cutting you off from your paranoia.

“Sorry,” you reply automatically, distracted before you shake away the adrenaline and turn to your friend. He beams brightly and lets his hand slip down to yours. With a turn on his heel, he guides you through the hallways to the back room. “Minor delay and had to find parking a few blocks away.”

“Don’t worry about it, li’l bird,” he shrugs and opens the door. “The room’s still filling out and Caleb is doing his sensation thing.”

You hum and enter behind your friend, setting your bag down in its usual place by the futon and shrugging off your coat. Your neck rolls on your shoulders, releasing any residual tension. Warm hands wrap over them and knead the muscles.

“You okay?” Chase asks, genuine concern in his voice. “You’re looking a little rattled.”

You lean into his gentle but firm touch, letting your eyes drift shut. Sinking into the feeling and focusing on it. Keeping yourself out of the instinctive loop of fright that lingers at the fringes of your mind. Chase’s hands travel down your back and over your sides—comforting, but objective in their precision.

“I’m fine,” you reply, breathy and calm. You pause, feeling his hands do the same. “Just,” you bite your lip, “maybe have the others keep a watch on the crowd tonight? I’ve had this strange feeling.”

Chase’s warm hands move back up to grasp your shoulders, reassuring in their press. “Of course.” He steps back and releases you. You spin to meet his eyes. “You know I always look out for my girl.” His lips lift in a soothing grin. “Now, let’s get you ready.”

You nod and begin to strip. Your blouse unbuttons and falls from your shoulders. Chase helps you step out of your skirt and grabs your outfit from your duffle. You change quickly from your everyday bra into the elaborate sports bra saved for these occasions. Chase helps straighten the straps, keeping them from turning on themselves and arranging them as they’re supposed to be. The bike shorts slide up your legs and sit at your waist. A quick peek in the mirror ensures you’re presentable—effortless yet alluring.

“You ready?” Chase asks softly.

You catch his eye in the mirror and nod with a small grin. “Ready.”

He offers his hand and you turn to accept it. Fingers squeeze around yours and draw you out. The crowd gathers around the elevated stage. The rig is all set up, the mats on the ground, the spotters standing on the fringes, everything waiting for you both.

Chase stops right by the steps up. He turns to you and takes your other hand in his. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” you reply immediately. A deep breath calms your spiking heart and the butterflies in your tummy. Displaying yourself in such a vulnerable position never stops being terrifying—or exhilarating.

“Then come along, birdie.”

The lights blare bright on the stage. Hot and revealing. You cannot look to the crowd waiting out past your line of sight. You’d freeze if you did. Instead you keep your focus on Chase—your constant, your rock, your Dom.

He brings you to the center of the stage and releases your hands. His chin dips in a bid for you to kneel. You sink the onto the floor, hands resting on your thighs, waiting. Your eyes locked still on him.

“Good evening.” He addresses the crowd with all the charisma you expect from him. “I hope you’ve been enjoying yourselves.”

As he continues, you let your mind center on your body. Keeping yourself present, but counting your breaths and feeling the steady pulse of your heartbeat. Rope uncoils. Instructions and explanations fall to a rapt audience.

Chase walks over, turning his back to the crowd to face you. He smiles. “There’s my good girl,” he says just for you. Your lips stretch, preening at the compliment.

He cups your cheeks, tilting your face up. His lips descend to press a kiss to your forehead before he finds the bite of his rope and begins.

The rope slides over your exposed skin. Each caress precise, purposeful. Chase works quickly, but pauses every so often to address the audience again or check in with you. Your arms lift. You bend and submit to the way he moves your body. The rope cinches too tight. You wince. Immediately, Chase corrects it.

Around and around, you’re bound. Your thoughts quiet, steady and calm. The last knot ties everything together and Chase steps away.

Another speech before he positions you and the hooks pull taut. You breathe deep, preparing yourself. Your body rises from the stage, suspended. Like you’re flying. It takes a moment to adjust. Chase places his hand on your side, grounding you in the way you need. Your eyes fall shut. Blissful in the darkness behind your eyelids.

Chase stays nearby. He watches. The spotters watch. The people watch. You’re used to the appreciation. Admiring the way you hang from the ceiling, the way your body contorts to the shape of Chase’s vision.

Music begins to play through the studio. You hang like a piece of art. Whispers and conversations pick up until it’s the drone of a crowd filling the high ceilings. Talk about your dedication and grace. Discussion of Chase’s skill. Various mingling. But all the buzz of the background mellows in your head. Your blood flowing through your veins and the tension of the rope on your frame.

Chase brings you down earlier than usual. He lowers the rig and starts to untie you, except for the final ring that keeps you hooked. You stay there for a few minutes until he’s certain of your stability.

All the while, he begins your favorite part. His hands pet over your limbs. The blood already pooling under your skin, creating tender contusions. He whispers words of affirmation and praise. You savor the bliss of his aftercare and feel exhaustion’s tug.

The spotters dissemble the rest of the rig and release you from the final tether. Chase’s arm wraps about your shoulders and the two of you exit off the stage to wind your way back to your room.

It’s quick, habitual work for Chase to prepare the futon for your nap. And you sink onto the bed with a sigh. The mattress dips beside you. Your Dom strokes his hand over you head. As always, he insists you drink electrolyte water and eat a little snack, each presented to your lips by his own hand.

“You did so good for me, li’l bird,” he whispers, coaxing you toward rest. “Just close your eyes for me and I’ll let you sleep for a while.”

You hum in response, knowing he’ll stay beside you until you’re under. A thought drifts toward the surface before it escapes your grasp, floating away from you until it’s gone and you’re asleep.

By Monday morning, you’ve forgotten the encounter with Ransom Drysdale, too distracted by your weekend to remember an insignificant meeting. Pleasantly fuzzy feelings and bright spirits follow you in your drive to the Thrombey estate. But it all evaporates when you turn toward the house and see Ransom standing there, leaning against one of the porch columns. A grimace twists his lips and his arms fold across his chest.

“So, you’re grandad’s research assistant,” he says with a derisive edge to his tone.

“Morning, Mr. Drysdale,” you return on a whisper, waking past him and into the house. Ignoring the derogatory sting of his remark.

His brow furrows and he follows. You take off your coat and scarf, hanging each with care in the entryway. The whole time, Ransom’s stormy presence grows increasingly agitated behind you. When your feet turn toward the kitchen for a calming cup of tea, you take only one step before finding yourself flailing and dragged backward by a strong arm clutching at your waist.

The hard wall of Harlan’s office digs into your back. But you would take that discomfort if not for the fire flashing in Ransom’s eyes.

“Your grandfather is waiting for me,” you say without inflection, staring at him and waiting for his tantrum to cease—for him to get bored and release you. “Please let me go.”

His lips screw up in disdain before he responds with an decisive, “No.”

You keep your breath even, refusing to let him get under your skin. Hoping you haven’t unintentionally gotten under his.

“Tell me how you came to be Harlan’s assistant.”

You don’t reply. The hallway clock ticks. Your nerves spike as it continues, knowing Harlan expects promptness.

“You’re being quite rude, pigeon,” he says after a tense minute, stretching his arms to brace against the wall, keeping you cornered but elongating his body in a spectacle of power. He leans close, invading your space until his breath brushes your cheek. “Why don’t you coo for me? I would hate to have to contact my Uncle Walt at the publishing company and get your position filled by someone more…friendly.”

A swallow clicks in your throat. “Mr. Drysdale, your grandfather hired me himself, and I’m not directly associated with Blood Like Wine Publishing,” you explain in clipped syllables, clinging to your calm while he looms closer.

His brow quirks in intrigue and his lips press into another smirk. Words form on his tongue. But as the stairs creak at someone’s approach, they remain unspoken.

“There you are,” Harlan calls from the stair landing, peering into his office. “Come along, dear, time to get to work.”

His eyes flash to his grandson, a sharp look challenging his obstructive position. Ransom meets it and they lock gazes for a charged moment. You take your window of opportunity for what it is, surging forward under Ransom’s left arm. In the space between his frame and the wall paneling, you squeeze through. Though your body drags against his and your balance falters, you get past. Ransom grunts in displeasure and protests, but you march your way upstairs following your boss.

“Be careful of him,” Harlan warns in a whisper as you pass him along the stairs.

You nod and continue on. A final glance over your shoulder confirms your suspicions. Ransom remains planted in place, jaw ticking and arms crossed. His attention focuses on your retreating figure, brow furrowed in thought—a glint in his eye you instinctively fear.

In. Out. You focus on breathing. A steady cadence, a calming exercise. Your safety and escape with the ropes biting into your flesh.

This week pushed your limits. Every day affected by unease—following like a burning gaze. You’ve seen little of Harlan’s grandson. Yet every time you feel yourself tipping into that unsettled state, you find your thoughts turning toward him.

In. Out. Now is not the time to think about it. Not when you don’t have to. Not in this state. Suspended above the mats. On display. In. Out. Focus. It works, mind drifting on the softy syllables of Chase’s conversation with a curious patron. Grounding you, guiding you toward peace.

Until it returns. That burning prickle at the back of your neck. The paranoia. It sets your teeth on edge. Despite your head being supported above your heart in tonight’s position, it becomes light, dizzy. Your eyes snap open, darting from face to face. Searching for his sinister features.

A flash—brown hair, sharp blue eyes, a regal sloping nose, a tan coat. It’s just a glimpse, but you meet their eye and see the beginnings of a smirk. Your vision swims. The studio blurs. Your heart pounds in your ears. You swallow, throat dry.

A croak escapes your lips. Chase’s concern meets your panic immediately. The spotters step forward, but his form eclipses your view of the rest of the studio—the crowd, the figure hidden amongst them—first. Your Dom reaches out to you and steadies the unconscious flail of your limbs. His fingers stroke across your skin. Slowly, it calms you. Your fear receding in the surety of his presence.

“Do you need to come down?” he asks, ready at a moment’s notice to lower you back to the ground—cut you out of the rope, if need be—and sweep you away to the safety of your room.

“No,” you say after a minute and a few deep breaths. “I thought…” Your words trail off in a mumble as you shake the silliness of your concerns away. It couldn’t have been Ransom. How would he know about this? It’s your mind playing tricks on you.

Chase examines you a moment longer before conceding with a wary nod. He steps back, letting the flood of the room rush back. Your eyes close again to force your way back down to comforting darkness. In. Out. In. Out.

Yet the evening becomes soured by that one moment. Chase’s distance expands like a chasm between you as he unwinds the rope from your body and steadies your walk back to your room. His methodical aftercare lacks in a way that sears a hole deep in your belly. Though you can’t name why. You wait for his tenderness to make it all feel better, but it doesn’t.

He settles you down on your futon and presses a chaste kiss to your forehead. His eyes flicker with that same concern, but he says nothing more of it. Simply feeds you your snack and tilts your water past your lips. They slosh uneasy in your stomach, but you follow your routine, praying for some solace.

His muttered praises do little to coax you toward rest. Fidgeting and turning over and over, you body thrums even as you feel the weight of exhaustion. You close your eyes, forcing yourself to give in. Chase stays a moment longer before leaving you to the sticky blackness of sleep.

Though it’s not long until you’re disturbed. Like pulling you up through tar, you find the surface. Your reluctance to awaken keeps your eyes stubbornly shut, but the figure beside you strokes their hand over your head. You sigh and a small smile twitches at your lips. The touch soothes your soul.

“Chase,” you mumble on a sleepy murmur. He makes no response, but lets his fingers trail over your cheek. Your hand reaches out, grasping his and tucking it close to your chest. “Stay with me til I’m back asleep?” A yawn punctuates your request. He says nothing but stays beside you. His legs stretch alongside your body. And he makes no protest when you half-consciously scoot closer, letting you cling to him for the first time as you sink once again.

Harlan’s warning rings constant in your mind, “Be careful of him.” But there is no careful—there’s no more safety, no escape. Because you weren’t wrong. That figure in the crowd, watching you and sending you spiraling toward panic—that was Ransom. Following you again and again to the studio. Each week struggling to find a way to bring it up with Harlan, and failing. Each weekend spent suspended with Ransom’s eyes piercing through you.

You’ve tracked his approach, stalking closer and closer to the stage with each passing week. His eyes never leaving you. Not concerned with whatever Chase says. He has his focus. And it never wavers.

He doesn’t glare or glower—his observation far from menacing. Though foreboding still blares at the back of your mind each time your gaze meets. And you cannot stop yourself. Hanging from the rigging, you always find him. Your heart always lurches before you cut away the room by closing your eyes.

You drift awake, rested from your nap. Your phone proclaims the time and you groan at the early hour before sitting up on your futon and stretching. Muscles protest in the most delicious way and your lips tilt toward a grin. With a roll of your neck, you stand to gather your belongings into your duffle so you can return home.

The door to your small room clicks behind you. A step, two, and you catch a dark figure in you periphery. Your bones jump and you gasp. Turning toward the intruder, you clutch at your heart. Your diaphragm starts spasming, hiccups bobbing up your throat.

“Who,” you hiccup, “Who’s there?”

They step forward, their head bent and hands hanging by their sides. The glint of the ring on his pinky catches the light. You lick your lips and hiccup again. A hand presses to your abdomen hoping to calm the convulsions of the muscle.

“Oh, pigeon, did I scare you?” His mirth grates on your thin tolerance. He doesn’t do anything technically inappropriate during the demonstrations, but this confrontation is.

“Mr. Drysdale,” you say with a heavy breath, trying to swallow around the hiccups. “Why are you here?

Amusement continues to dance bright in his eyes. You’re just waiting for him to start laughing at you. Like there’s a cosmic joke to which you aren’t privy. But you’re willing to wait while he explains himself. All the while starting to feel sick from the incessant hiccups—and maybe something more.

“Let’s just say I have an itch I need you to scratch,” he replies with a teasing shrug.

“That doesn’t explain much, Mr. Drysdale.”

His jaw ticks and the amused light in his eyes dims a fraction. He shifts on his feet and stands straighter. The glint of a gold watch shines in the light. You swallow at the reminder of his status and your precarious position in the hallway with him—the ways this could spiral unpleasantly numerous and beginning to swarm in your head. A thought of Chase materializes in your mind. His bedroom nearby but too far all at the same time.

“Call me Ransom,” he suggests, though even the way his head ticks to the side reads more as a command than counsel.

“Right,” you mumble with a hint of disregard—too focused on yourself, your position. Your eyes dart around the cramped hallway, looking for an escape. “What do you want?”

He hums, deep and threatening in his throat. “You.” The statement simple. Yet it rocks your world—sends you reeling and off-kilter. But he continues, “You see, I can admit you intrigued me on our first meeting. Especially after Harlan refused to tell me much about you other than your job title.” He sighs and takes a step closer. In retreat, you press yourself to the wood of the door. “Unfortunately, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since. And I need to fix that.” His arm cages you in, resting beside your head as he leans forward, crowding into you. “So,” he says, drawing out the word. His chin dips and his voice lowers to a whisper. “Name you price.”

Your chest jumps in another hiccup, voice jumping with it when you yelp, “What are you talking about?”

A smirk twitches on his lips. “I’m a very wealthy man. I need one night to get you out of my system.” His breath brushes your cheek. “Name. Your. Price.”

You sputter, mind whirring. You’re not naïve. You know for what he’s asking. You used to consider it, when the rent wasn’t adding up—before Chase, before Harlan. But not with someone like him. Your tongue swipes over your lips. His gaze continues to wander over you, examining you like a slab of meat.

“Five hundred thousand dollars?” The number, plucked from the air, grits past your clenched teeth in hopes it will deter him.

He grins and gives you a sliver more space to breathe. “Done.”

You gape in shock. Such an easy agreement. “Wait—”

“Do you want more?” His fingers tickle along your throat while his brow quirks in curiosity.

Your head shakes, vehemently against it. “No. I don’t—”

“Then, what’s the problem, pidge?” His voice husks, a moment away from descending upon you. The glimmer in his eyes hungry.

“I don’t want you,” you reply. The force of your statement knocks him back. His head tilts and his jaw ticks in irritation. His gaze narrows. “I wouldn’t want you for a million.” You push at him, but he doesn’t budge. Too strong, too firm.

His nostrils flare with his ire. A deep breath expands his lungs, pressing his chest to yours. He closes his eyes and calms himself. When he captures you again with his sapphire blue eyes, they’re softer. The sharpness dulled for his plea.

“Look, pidge,” Ransom croons. Sweet as pie but far too deadly. “It’s one night. That’s all.” He backs away, though he keeps his touch close by, ready to swoop back in and strangle you. “You’ll get one million dollars, alright? I never bother you again—never show up to this dump, never meet you at granddad’s. You’re done with me and I’m finally done with you. Got better things to do anyway.”

He lets you think. The moment stretches taut between you. Your hiccups the only disturbance.

“I’ll never have to see you again?” you ask, wary of his answer.

He grins, triumphant. As if he’s already won—which he has. A million dollars can do a lot for you. Clear most of your debt. Make your paycheck stretch further for a little while. Maybe give you a little cushion for a rainy day.

“When?”

“Oh, I knew you’d say yes.” He smirks and trails his fingertips over your cheeks. You turn your head away but he follows, ducking to catch your eye. “You made the right choice. I’m gonna give you the night of your life.”

Air expands your lungs and escapes in a steady hiss. Another hiccup interrupts the stream and you close your eyes in frustration. Lips press to your cheek. You jerk away, startled.

“I’ll text you the details, pidge.”

He leaves, his business concluded by sneaking a pat to your ass. The hallway expands around you once more and fills with your precarious relief.

The door looms too tall before you. You eye the keycard slot. Check the time on your phone. Another minute passed. You wonder if he knows you’re here. Your hand rests on your abdomen for a moment, calming your nerves. Your other reaches out and swipes the card. The light blinks green. You breathe deep, open the door, and stop right in your tracks.

There in the center of this great, grand hotel room sits Ransom cushioned by a big black leather chair. You swallow hard and glance over your shoulder. Your heartbeat flutters anxiously in your throat. You take a step back. Fingers cling tight to the doorknob. You clear your throat.

“Well,” he hums with a twisted grin, “there you are. I guess it’s true—amazing what some people will do for a chunk of change.” He eyes your position, still straddling the threshold and clutching at the doorknob. “You gonna try to run?” His brow quirks and he stands, relaxed and unconcerned. His hands shove deep in his pockets, but his sweater sleeves sit folded up near his elbows. “I thought you were braver than that, pidge.”

With a defiant tilt of your chin, you step forward and let the door close behind you—accepting his challenge. It brings a smug grin to Ransom’s face, but you ignore it by setting aside your bag and toeing off your shoes.

“How are we going to do this?” you ask without looking at him. “Do you have some kind of contract? Or will oral negotiations suffice?” You grab a small notebook from your purse and the attached pen, releasing it from its holder and clicking the cam down.

The scoff and eye roll you receive in reply sets your teeth on edge. Ransom shakes his head and says, “we’re not going to do that, no matter how fun oral negotiations sound.”

You blink. “But—” you begin in your shock before closing your lips and clearing your throat to gather your thoughts. “I realize this is for one night only, but it’s important—”

“You’re right,” he interrupts with a wave of his hand, turning his back on you and meandering around the back of the chair. “This is only for one night. We don’t need all that boring shit. I want to fuck you, not exchange friendship bracelets.” As he comes around to settle on the cushion, he tucks something beside him you can’t catch. “Now.” He leans forward. You stare, entranced by the confidence of his movements. The way his fingers clench on the arms of the chair and his chin tilts. “Get on your knees.”

They threaten to buckle at the command, but you stand firm. Still uncomfortable with this little exchange, you’re not yet ready to start. Not like this. Your tongue lashes out to lick your lips, eyes darting about for something to prolong the conversation. Another question to ask, another point to make.

“Will you listen if I safeword at least?” you ask as your toes tap on the floor in a nervous rhythm. The notebook in your hand crinkles with your grip until you place it and the pen back in your bag.

“You have my word,” Ransom promises, hand pressed—sincere or mocking—to his chest. “Don’t you trust me?”

“Not exactly.”

He chuckles and shrugs. Whether his word means anything, you don’t know. All you know is that he’s not getting any more patient. He nods toward his feet, the open place between his knees.

You take a moment to gather yourself and find that safe space in your head, taking slow steps to approach him. Watching him—wary of any sudden shift. The fluffy carpet meets your knees when you sink down. Closing your eyes, you concentrate on steadying your breath.

Ransom waits—for what, you couldn’t guess. Until he rasps, “Open your eyes. Look at me like you look at him.”

Your eyes snap open and meet his. “Like him?”

But he simply holds up a pair of padded cuffs, dangling from his index finger. “You want me to stop, you say ‘Hugh’. Understand?”

Your head bobs in a nod, keeping eye contact. “Yes, Mr. Drysdale.”

In a flash, he grips your chin with his free hand. His fingers dig into your cheeks, anger flaring in his gaze. “You. Call me. Ransom.”

You swallow hard at the abrasive grit in his tone. “Yes, Ransom,” you respond with a stilted nod.

“Good,” he hums in satisfaction, “I prefer good girls.”

The tension drips away as he releases your face. Fingers scratch at his jaw and he stretches, relaxing back into the cushion of the chair. The cuff chain clinks, drawing your attention. His follows, lips twitching toward a smirk.

“Now, can we begin?” he asks with a raise of his brow.

“Yes, Ransom,” you reply, resisting the urge to drop your gaze. Unsure of what reaction might await at such a disregard for his request, but unwilling to risk a punishment—not from him.

“Give me your hands.”

You offer them up, blood vibrating in your veins. He holds them gently despite his prickish nature. The cuffs wrap around your wrists, latching snug to your skin. Perfect—not too tight or too loose. You stare at them. The detailed leather work. The minky lining. The safety buckle ready to release at a moment’s notice. They’re quality, expensive—an indication of forethought, research, commitment.

A weight lifts from your shoulders. The nerves buzzing inside you start to disperse. With a final pat to the leather, his hands stray to explore your body. He traces the curve of your lips. He feels your pulse throbbing at your throat. He cups your breasts and kneads the flesh until your breath hitches.

“Just like that,” he purrs while toying with you. “You’re gonna sing for me, aren’t you?” He plucks at your nipples through your shirt, staring you down to drink in your reaction.

You swallow a whimper—needy and plaintive. Thoughts flurry in your head tinged by heat. Submission tempts, at odds with an insistence on remaining in control. He catches the hesitance when your teeth worry your lower lip. He clicks his tongue in disappointment, and your heart lurches.

He lets the silence settle around you both, reclining back and taking his touch with him. A minute ticks by. His attentions drift over you, searching. Only he knows for what. Your lungs draw in a steady flow of air, each calmer than the last. Your hands itch in impatience, craving contact. Your fingers flex toward him. The chain rattles.

Ransom reads something in that sound and tilts his head, lowering his lips to yours. You blink, unsure of your boundaries with such intimacy, but he swallows any protest with a kiss.

You expect it to be harsh and demanding. Clacking teeth and a suffocating intrusion. That’s not what you get. The way he kisses you like a lover locked in a forbidden embrace between the stacks of an old library—sensual, passionate, and all-consuming. Letting you taste a hint of his hunger, his desperation.

Your bound hands raise to cup his jaw. Drawn to him like a magnet. Because this is the best you’ve ever been kissed. Sure, you’ve been kissed by amateurs, by creeps, by lovers, but nothing like this. It’s addictive.

Without meaning to, you sigh your delight against his lips. His twitch toward a smirk, even as he licks into your mouth and drinks you in. His hands cradle your throat and tilt your head back. The dance between you a delicious exercise of control.

With one last brush of his lips to yours, he draws away. Your head floats, hazy with the sparks of lust ignited by his kiss. Unconsciously, you follow his retreat, leaning up to him like a flower seeking the sun.

He stands, a slow movement that breaks your hold until your falling hands rest upon his thighs. He stares down at you, a conceited pleasure glinting in his appraisal. But you’re past the point of caring or becoming peeved by his superior attitude. You just want him to kiss you like that again. It’s only for one night anyway, what does it matter if he’s proud of himself for making you his plaything—or that you think you’ll enjoy every minute of it.

“Up,” he beckons with an outstretched hand.

You place your hands in his and rise. He squeezes and saunters toward the bed. A noise of approval rolling in his throat, observing your body.

“We’ll need to fix this,” he says with a gesture. You glance down—the plain tee, the jean shorts, your socks. He steps forward, pressing his lips to your ear. “You wear something special for me, pidge?”

You swallow, but can’t answer. Voice stuck in your throat.

“That’s okay,” he coos, playing with the collar of your shirt. “I’ll see soon enough.”

Fabric falls from your body. It pools on the floor at your feet. Your gaze falls with each article of clothing. Exposed to his scrutiny, you stand in your best lingerie set. Thinking he should get what he paid for, you’d donned it but now find a seed of apprehension blooming in your belly. Another thing he’ll nitpick or tease.

“Look at that,” he rasps, hand smoothing across your waist and gripping you close. Your feet stumble over each other and you brace yourself against his chest. “So pretty and just for me.” His fingers pluck at a bow on the front of your bra.

A shock of arousal hits you at his praise, leaving your knees weak. Gripping at his shoulders, you try to support yourself, and his eyes shine with amusement.

“You like when I talk sweet to you, pidge?”

He spins on his heels and takes you with him. With another stumble and a toss, your back bounces on the mattress. You gaze up at him, eyes wide as he chuckles and undoes his belt. With a snick of his zipper, he releases himself and strokes his cock. And, god you hate to admit it, it’s a thing of beauty. You meet his eye and feel the heat crawling up your cheeks.

He quirks his eyebrow and dips his chin. You push yourself clumsily to kneel before him on the soft mattress. His fingers trace your lips until your tongue licks over them. He smirks and leads you down with a firm hand.

The first tentative taste of his flesh sends a shiver up his spine and a breath puffing from his lips. You kiss his tip, eyes locked with his. His cock twitches. He growls and urges you forward until he enters your mouth and rests on your tongue. You purr around him and begin in earnest.

A few bobs of your head work him back as far as you can manage. Eyes close as you focus on your task. Head drifting on greedy waves of sensation and muscle memory, you swallow him further and further. Listening, yearning to hear how you affect him. Drool pools on your tongue, stimulating every part of him it can reach. Part of you wishes you might have your hands free, if only to feel him. Urge him further toward release.

His hips buck against your face and you gag. But he keeps you steady, a guiding hand pressed to the back of your head, gripping and massaging your scalp.

“So cute,” he muses with a brush of his fingers over your forehead. “Look up at me, li’l birdie.” Your eyes flutter open, waterline wet with the start of tears. Ransom smiles down at you and winks. You hum around him. His head falls back on his neck with a groan, abdominals flexing as he pulls you off and up. A weak noise of protest escapes your lips, plump with blood from the stretch of his cock. He pants, tongue darting out to lick over your swollen flesh. “Not bad,” he comments with a tilt of his head. “But I think I’m ready for a bit more, aren’t you?”

With a hand smoothing across your throat, his other lowers to find the apex of your thighs. A twist and pinch, a rip and your panties fall away. His fingers free to explore the most intimate part of you. You whine at the squelch of your arousal. The slickness shamefully copious as he plays with your pussy and grins. He hums in delight, but doesn’t say anything. That sound enough of a gloat to humiliate you.

“I can’t help it,” you protest, brow tilting pathetically.

“Oh,” he croons, smearing his lips across your cheek, “I know.” The gentle mocking of his words pierce through you. You huff in pitiful indignation.

His fingers pinch at your lower lips and your hips jolt. He barks a laugh, but his touch turns nicer. Stroking over your folds and swirling around your clit. Your breath hitches. The sensation curling in your belly, building your pleasure. Teeth nip at your pulse point, startling you. Ransom chuckles against your skin and begins to suck.

You’re weak with him. The prick of his teeth and the soothing swipe of his tongue mingling with the skill of his fingers. Filling your head until you can hardly think. Moans and gasps build in your chest, too persistent to ignore. Just as you reach the precipice of your climax, though, Ransom stops.

He grips your chin with sticky fingers, pecks a kiss to your gaping lips, and smirks. “Not yet.”

Once again your back finds the mattress. You stretch out, bones jelly and blood thrumming. You crave release now. More than you can say, leaving you only able to reach out as he strips off his sweater and jeans.

A chiseled Adonis he is not. Muscles flex beneath skin supple with just the slightest layer of cushion borne from a life of luxury and indulgence. So when he descends and pins you to the bed, you feel it against you—his strength and softness.

He slots himself between your thighs, pulling them up to his hips. His cock finds its place, slicking itself against your sex. You sigh and loop your bound hands around his neck.

You bite back a “please,” but he sees it shining in your eyes and denies you. Content to roll his hips. Each thrust knocking the head of his cock against your clit until you whine and wriggle beneath him.

“Don’t be like that, pidge,” he says with a mocking pout, swiping a thumb over you cheek where unbidden tears fall from your eyes. “I’ll let you have what you want.”

With the slightest shift, he prods at your entrance. Bare. You breath hitches. Hands grip at his hair.

“Protection!” you protest at the last minute, surfacing from the lusty daze with fear in your eyes.

Ransom takes it in stride, continuing his persistence. “What for?” he asks with another roll of his hips. A delicious, sparkling sensation skitters up your spine. “I’m clean, you’re clean, you’re on birth control. Right?” The drawl of his voice accompanies his descent toward your neck. Another nip and suck of your skin as you reluctantly nod. He reaches a hand down between your bodies, gripping his dick. “Then there’s no problem here, pidge.”

You whimper, “I—”

He thrusts into you. The stretch divine. His gorgeous cock filling you inch by inch until you ache. A moan rips from the depths of you, a wounded sound of pleasure. Your eyes squeeze shut, sweat dotting your brow. How can a douche like Ransom Drysdale feel so right when he’s inside you?

He pauses, eyes squeezed shut and chest heaving. “Fuck,” he hisses beneath his breath. Your own hips roll in an attempt to adjust, but his hand lashes out to stop you. His grip tight. “Squeezing me like a vice, pidge.” The husk of his voice, the strain, the need dripping from each word, it sends a shiver down your spine.

“Ransom,” you plead with a gentler tug at the roots of his hair, “please move.”

His eyes open, the blue tinged dark with desire. His lips part around a shuddering breath. Finding his composure, he tilts his hips, filling you just that little bit more until you gasp. “I’m gonna fill you up just right. Don’t you worry your pretty little head.”

There’s not a moment more to prepare yourself before he begins fucking you. The drag of his cock against your walls enough to make an endless stream of sounds dribble from your lips. You grip him for dear life. The clap of your bodies filling the room with your moans and heavy breaths.

Ransom takes and takes, filling you and grinding against you until your vision blurs. You cum on his cock, screaming your release. Your knees squeeze his sides. You cling to him. Yet no matter how he ruins you, he keeps going. To sate his own pleasure, to see you crumble just a little more, to chase some ineffable desire.

It takes him longer. The stutter of his hips, the warmth of his cum flooding you. You mewl, hips shifting at the sensation.

“Hold still,” he commands, gripping your face with one hand.

His other travels down your body. Pausing to play with the sensitive beads of your nipples. You squeak. But his true destination lay between your thighs where he keeps himself nestled. Your clit throbs with your pulse, overstimulated and tender. You tense, bracing for whatever his plans.

He plucks at the aching bundle of nerves despite your every twitter of protest. Smirk plastered on his face. His intentions clear as he rips another orgasm from you and another. Letting you milk his swelling cock with your sex.

Your tongue swipes across your dry lips. Knowing by the wiggle of his hips he prepares himself for another round—one that will surely be a delicious torment. Your head shakes, arms tightening around him. Hoping your silent pleas will be understood. Already overwhelmed by the night’s exertion.

But he starts again, pleasure gleaming in his eyes every time he knocks your aching clit with his pelvis. You reel with the sensations scourging your body. The way the pain washes over you with the sweetest hint of pleasure. That hint just enough to keep your mind searching for more. Clinging closer and rolling your hips in tandem with his.

Your head lolls on your shoulders, sure to keep your eyes locked with his. Knowing he might stop if you let them wander just a moment—both needing and dreading that brief reprieve.

“There we go, that’s what I’m looking for,” he purrs staring deep into your glassy eyes.

Sweat dampens his chest, pressed against you as he cages you in with his weight. His fingers lift, two of them prodding your lips and delving into your mouth. Your tongue tangles with them, teeth nipping his knuckles. You swallow around them and they withdraw, trailing a cool line of saliva down your throat. His wet fingers trail beneath the cups of your bra, pinching at the tender buds. A raw moan rises out of you at a particularly wicked thrust of his cock. And another. You shudder, an unstoppable wave of pleasure ripping through you and leaving you in a fit of pained euphoria.

But Ransom says nothing more. A look shining in his eyes, thoughtful and indecipherable. If you could contemplate the dawning of such a look, you might. Though, with the rush of your own orgasm flooding your head, the stutter of his hips and the spill of his cum, you’re lost. He falls off you with a grunt, sprawling across the open area of the bed.

“Shit,” he mutters to the room. Sweat glistens along his skin and musses his hair. His chest rises and falls with deep breaths. A hand wipes over his face. You might have taken offense to the utter disbelief radiating from him, if so inclined.

Instead, you rise, prising through the quick release of the cuffs. Emptiness and pain halts your movement. An ache between your thighs that plucks its sweet agony. No choice but to push through it.

As Ransom recovers, you gather your things. Aftercare far from your thoughts. Willing to face any possible repercussions yourself and in your own space. You dress hastily, intuition begging for retreat. Knowing that another moment with him might cement something inside you. Something you know will only end in pain and disappointment.

Each step, each movement he follows with his eyes. They burn into you. Whether in anger or some other resentment, you don’t know—don’t need to know. Slipping your shoes on at the door and gathering your bag, he says nothing to stop you. You pause with your hand on the doorknob and glance over your shoulder. He continues to rest on the bed, body gloriously lax, and stares. Quiet and contemplative. You leave him there.

All thought of the money forgotten. No. All you want now is to escape that seductive lure he offers. You pray he’ll keep his word. That you’ll receive what he feels he owes. You’ll manage with what you’ve got until he does and start forgetting this night ever happened. Move on, work with Harlan, perform with Chase—lead your normal life.

You rush from the hotel, cool morning air slapping you in the face. You stop and tilt your head back. Your regret washes over you. Your lips press together, holding it back. Keeping it at bay.

The trek home stretches before you. Tenuous hope growing that you’ll never see Ransom Drysdale again, even as you feel the fierce burn of a gaze at your back.

#ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale fanfic #dark #dark fic #dub con #tw dub con #yandere vibes #attic wives anonymous #18+#minors dni

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buckyscombatboots · 1 year

Text

🍁🍪 Ransom Drysdale x Reader: Cookies Drabble 🍪🍁

Warnings: cunnilingus, tooth rotting fluff, baking with Ransom, undertones of power imbalance, Ransom is a bit of a douche, innocent!reader, implied smut

Nicknames: Puppy, Pup, dumb (lightheartedly)

A/N: This is kind of a Drabble/continuation of ‘Never stop chasing me’ as it has the exact same dynamic, but you don’t need to read it to understand what’s going on. Can you tell I adore this asshole so much, I just want to squeeze him 🤗 He gives me cuteness aggression Istg.

༻𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭🎀 𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫༺

Everything was ready, you looked down at your list one more time to confirm “Flour, baking soda, canned pumpkin, eggs, sugar, festive cookie cutters… and the rest. It’s all here!” You could hardly contain your excitement as you hopped onto the counter, swinging your legs back and forth, a wide smile spread across your face as you hummed along to the songs of the halloween playlist you’d put on. It was perfect, you just needed one more thing.

From the kitchen you heard the jangle of keys and the front door slamming shut. Bingo! Ransom was home. “Puppy! Where are you?”

“In the kitchen!” You call in a singsong voice, the kicking of your legs growing faster as Ransom approached.

You jumped off the counter bounding towards Ransom, squeezing him tightly in a bear hug. You took a deep breath in allowing his familiar, warm vanilla scent to fill your lungs “What’s all of this?” He questioned in a suspicious tone, raising an eyebrow at the neatly ordered spices and assortment of baking ingredients.

“We’re gonna make halloween biscuits!” You exclaimed, your bare feet pattering on the kitchen tiles below you. As you squeezed him tighter.

“We? Do you mean You’re gonna make them?” He asked dryly.

“No, I mean we’re gonna make them together, Ransom.” Your dug you hands into the thick fabric of his sweater, looking up at him and jutting you lower lip out in a pout and putting on your best pair of puppy eyes “Pleaseeee” You whined, rubbing your face into his chest “For me, Ransom, I wanna make cookies with you.” You could see the conflict waging behind his eyes, Ransom bit down on his lip, closed his eyes and exhaled deeply through his nose.

“Fine. We’ll make cookies together. But you owe me.”

“Owe you what?” You tilted your head to the side curiously, sloping your head upwards to look into his eyes—the white of his sweater made them look almost grey. Ransom's heart squeezed at the innocence in your gaze as you asked him, he adored that about you—the fact that it bordered on naïvety and made you wordlessly follow anything he said like it was gospel.

“I haven’t decided yet,” His gaze travelled down to your bare thighs, he swallowed thickly, he knew you were only wearing panties; it was what you usually did whenever you wore any of Ransoms clothes, because they were so big on you, and it drove him crazy every single time. You always did things unknowingly that made him feral and he had to force himself to keep himself under control “but I have some ideas.” He smirked, bringing a hand up to stroke your hair—giving you two head pats and watching as all your thoughts behind your eyes faded as soon as he touched you. “So…Cookies?” His questioning brought you back to your senses. You released him, turning away from him shyly; embarrassed by the effect his touch had on you. The beast inside of him was aching to be released as he watched you fidget, he had to subtly rearrange himself to prevent you from seeing how hard he was. He walked over to the sink, thoroughly washing his hands.

“I-I have everything set out and measured, all we need to do is put it all together, cut out the cookies, put them on a baking tray and leave them in the oven. I didn’t want you to have to do too much, since I knew you’d be tired.” You wrung your hands together as you explained yourself, busying yourself with fiddling with the strings of your apron.

You could feel Ransom standing behind you before he rested his chin on your head. “How thoughtful of you, Puppy.” He placed a kiss on the top of your head before picking up the mixing bowl “So what’s first?”

“We need to cream the butter and sugar together.” You earned a deep laugh from Ransom “What?”

“Cream.” He repeated, tittering to himself. You gave him a playful slap on his forearm, turning away from him and putting the butter and sugar into the bowl he was holding.

“You’re on whisking duty.” You huffed grabbing the smaller bowl and combining the variety of spices, plain flour and bicarbonate of soda together “You’re gonna be whisking for about 3 minutes, until it’s a nice pale colour” Ransom scooted next to you rolling up his sleeves before he began to whisk vigorously, grunting in the process. You felt your mind wandering as you folded the dry ingredients together, swirling them gently as you let your gaze shift over to Ransom. Biting your lip at the extreme focus he was in whilst whisking.

“That’s looking pretty pale to me. I think I’m done, what do you think?” He questioned, looking down at you. He set down the bowl “Caught you staring.”

“I was looking at the bowl!” You defended, unable to meet his accusing gaze.

“Sure you were. Come on, you're the leader, do we just combine both of these?”

“Yep! You know for someone who’s never cooked or baked you’re pretty good at this!”

“Don’t be cheeky, Puppy. I’ve baked before, just not often. Here gimme that.” He took the small bowl of dry ingredients and dumped it all in the bowl he’d been mixing.

“No! we were meant to fold it in slowly!”

“It’ll be fineeee. We can still fold it and now it’ll be quicker.” He passed the wooden spoon over to you “Your turn, since you’re the expert.” He said in a honeyed tone.

After bumping heads with Ransom a bit more about his odd approach to baking you finally had all the cookies cut out in the shapes of pumpkins and bats and on a baking tray. You slid it into the oven and closed the door, throwing the oven gloves and your apron onto the counter “That took way longer than it was meant to, because someone was eating the raw cookie dough!” You grumbled, washing the sticky residue of the cookie dough of your hands.

Ransom picked you up with ease, locking his lips with yours as he placed you on the counter. As he kissed you he began running his hands all across your body; slipping his hands up his sweater you were wearing to caress your tits, tweaking and twisting the pebbled nipples. He pushed his hardened cock against your dripping cunt as he deepened the kiss, tangling his tongue with yours. Watching as you turned into a whimper mess beneath his attention as he deprived you of oxygen. His kisses becoming more and more ravenous as your face becomes red, Ransom pulls away from allowing you to breathe. You grabbed at Ransom trying to pull him back in for more kisses, your mouth feeling so empty without him. But Ransom eased down on to his knees, tipping his head back as he pulled you closer to the edge of the counter by your calves. “All this baking has made me hungry, Puppy, but I’m sure you can fix that. Can’t you, my precious little Pup?” Heat rises to your cheeks as a throb of heat pulses between your thighs, you squeeze them together trying to subtly gain some friction. He slowly trails his large hands from your calves up to your knees, rubbing circles into them with the pads of his thumbs before he parts your legs. You loved it when ransom manhandled you, the way he took control and dominated you; he made you wet without even touching your pussy.

Ransom massaged the wet spot form on your underwear grinning as he watched you bite back a moan. He hooked his fingers under the waistband of your panties, pulling them off and tucking them away in the back pocket of his dark blue jeans “You’re dripping for me.” He blew cold air against your clit, as if you were a hot meal he was trying to cool, the action sent a shiver up your spine making Ransom chuckle

“Stop teasing.” You pouted using one of your hands to tousle his hair playfully.

“I’m teasing? I think you’re mistaken, Pup. You’ve been teasing me since the second I walked through the front door. Wearing my sweater, giving me those puppy eyes and expecting me to be able to focus on baking. I wanted to bend you over this counter and fuck your little brains out as soon as I laid eyes on you. This is simply payback.” Placing feather light touches with the tips of his fingers right next to your swollen lips.

You whined pushing your hips into his face “Please.” You begged “need you.”

“Can’t even form a full sentence. I haven’t even touched you yet and you can’t even think coherently. What are we going to do with you, my dumbly little Puppy?” He cooed, taking your sensitive nub into his scorching mouth, sucking on it gently and grazing the hood with his bottom teeth. You threw your head back, narrowly missing the corner of the cabinet. He released your clit, swiping his tongue through your creamy slit; before sucking on each of your puffy lips giving soft nibbles to each, your moans rising in pitch with every soft touch and lick. He slipped two fingers inside you, scissoring them inside you whilst he drew his initials on your clit with his tongue with slow swipes. You could barely focus on anything, as his fingers rubbed against the spongy part inside you that made your moan like a pornstar. Ransom moved from your clit to slurp the slick running out of you “Such a messy Puppy. You’re gonna get the counter all dirty with your sweet nectar.” You couldn’t handle his teasing normally, but especially not while he was devouring you like a starved man. You attempted to pull your hips away as you felt the heat within you growing, but his hold on your thighs stiffened; becoming almost bruising as he lapped and sucked at your quivering hole, slipping his tongue in to accompany his fingers before returning to your throbbing clit. The pace of his tongues flicking quickened, he could tell you were near your end and he was going to do everything in his power to hear you scream for him “Cum. Cum on my face, Puppy. Soak me.” He demanded, suckling your clit as your body spasmed, making your hips rise up off the counter as you came on his fingers. Your sopping pussy constricting around him like a viper as he continued to piston his fingers into you through your orgasm; attacking the sensitive part within you making you scream. You could feel another orgasm approaching as he drew tight circles on your pulsating pearl.

“Ransom! Please stop, it hurts. Feels too good.” You sobbed your thighs, quivering in his powerful grasp. Drool leaking from the corner of your mouth as you let out pathetic overstimulated whines. Another wave of pleasure crashed through your body, making you let out sounds you didn’t think you were capable of. If you knew what was going on you’d be embarrassed, but you were so lost in the pleasure that Ransom’s tongue was giving you that you couldn’t care less if the whole world heard you.

Ransom got to his feet, his eyes raking over you hungrily as he wiped the remainder of your juices that his tongue couldn’t reach with the back of his hand. He wanted to take a picture of you like this, your pretty face all destroyed for him accompanied by the vacant look behind your eyes. Scratch that he wanted to frame it. He cupped your cheek with his hand wiping the tears of ecstasy still staining your cheeks away. He slipped his thumb past your lips, practically growling as you began to suckle on the digit “We’ve still got a few minutes before they’re done baking, so how about we have a bit more fun, Puppy?”

Tag list: @petesey @cevansgurl @bval-1 @feyfantome @alexxavicry @ashenc-blog @floral-recs @flamefoxxrecs @adoreyouusugar @sojuxxi @gryffindorqueensworld @aerangi @itwillgetbetter @taramaria @bean-is-reading

#smut #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale x female reader #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale #knives out #chris evans smut #chris evans character fanfiction #chris evans character x reader #chris evans #chris evans fluff #chris evans characters #fluff #soft dom!ransom drysdale #mean!ransom drysdale #soft dom!ransom drysdale x reader

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2-fast-2-curious · 1 year

Note

Just thinking of Jamie drysdale being the softest

I've been neglecting the hockeys, I'm very sorry

[M4F] Snowstorms, Cold Lips, Burning Bodies

[Script Fill] [Mdom] [Fsub] [Soft Dom] [Friends to Lovers] [One Bed Trope] [Romantic Tension] [Sappy] [Confessions] [Cunnilingus] [Creampie] [Missionary] mention of [Lower Belly Technique] [Ruined Friendship] [Aftercare]

Creator Reddit: u/VelsLibrary

Is he related to Ransom?

#jamie drysdale #anaheim ducks #jamie drysdale x reader #jamie drysdale smut #nhl hockey #nhl players #hockey smut #nhl smut #christine recommends audios #nhl blurb #audios #smut #soundgasm

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writing-for-marvel · 11 months

Text

These are all the fics I've read in May. Please go show all these amazing writers some much deserved love! Also please remember to read the warnings for each individual fic

🔥 - smut | 💗 - fluff I 💧 - angst | 😈 - dark

Dividers by @saradika

Bucky Barnes

🔥 Headstrong by @flordeamatista

💗🔥 Bedtime Story by @jobean12-blog

🔥 Neighbourly Love by @/jobean12-blog

💗 Bucky Barnes x reader by @maivolpe

🔥 Needy by @targaryenvampireslayer

💗🔥 Love From Afar by @bluehourbucky

💗🔥 Bucky makes sure you know you're his first choice by @like-what-the-fuck-scoob

💗 Operation get Mr Bucky and Momma together by @golden-barnes

💗 Dance with the Devil by @rookthorne

💗 Imagine Bucky calling you at work by @lives-in-midgard

💗 Booked on a Feeling by @intrepidacious

💗 Morning Workout by @sparklefics

Steve Rogers

💗🔥 The Thrill of Knowing How Alone We Are by @buckets-and-trees

🔥 Give You a Ride by @sstan-hoe

💧💗 His Radiant Sunflower by @witchywithwhiskey

💗 The Berry Sweetest by @brandycranby

Sam Wilson

💧💗🔥 Haven by @fluffyprettykitty

💗 Surprise by @/targaryenvampireslayer

Adam Warlock

🔥 A-Z NSFW Headcanon by @tom-whore-dleston

🔥 Soft Dom Adam by @inklore

Joaquin Torres

💗🔥 Expression by @/fluffyprettykitty

Bruce Banner

💗 Cuddles are the Cure by @late-to-the-party-81

Ari Levinson

🔥 Like Jello by @/late-to-the-party-81

💧💗 Post-Nightmare Cuddles by @ronearoundblindly

🔥 Like a Broken Record by @howdoyousleep3

Ransom Drysdale

💧 Occupy My Brain by @/intrepidacious

💗🔥 Insomnia by @/brandycranby

💧💗 One Night by @honeybloomss

Andy Barber

🔥 On Your Knees by @flwrsforu

💗 Pros and Cons by @navybrat817

Joel Miller

💗🔥 A Sweeter Place by @/flordeamatista

💧💗🔥 Wild for You by @/jobean12-blog

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cloudystevie · 2 years

Text

you are my delusion

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pairing || step dad! ransom drysdale x reader

word count || 2264

summary || when life gives you lemons...

warnings || step-cest!!!, age gap, college aged reader, andy, ari, and steve are ransoms friends, mentions of voyeurism, mentions of exhibitionism, daddy kink, heavy dom/sub, it's consensual but still somewhat dark just to be safe, ransom is an asshole, degradation and i think that's it.

author's note || 18+ only, minors do not read or interact. do not copy or translate this story anywhere. this is purely fiction and probably the most fucked up concept i've written but what better way to get back into writing after a 6 month hiatus :) really nervous but hope u guys like it and please reblog and leave comments!!!

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Ever since Ransom had married into your family, specifically married your mother with whom you had a very tight-knit relationship at some point, he had been making ‘eyes’ at you. Whatever that meant, considering you had not noticed it, your best friend and only close friend had brought it to your attention.

“Listen to me, he totally swoons over you. Yesterday at dinner he spent more time checking you out than talking to your mom. I could literally smell the tension radiating from you two.”

You roll your eyes at her and shove her away, pushing your sunglasses up and pulling your weight onto your elbows. The luminous summer sun blinds your vision momentarily as you blink and squint to adjust your eyes. Your skin shining as you were tanning in nothing but a lilac bikini. “You don’t know what you’re talking about; he’s married to my mom. He wouldn’t be that shameless.” Your tone was convincing, not to your friend, but as if you were trying to convince yourself of this reality too.

You and the rest of Boston knew well who Ransom Drysdale was and just how shameless the privileged playboy is. His relationship with your mother's pre-two-week-long engagement quickly followed by the wedding was sudden and moving faster than you could reach out and congratulate them. One second your mom told you about her new boyfriend, and the next, you were back home for summer break, and she had a big rock on her finger. That had been a month ago, and it was now July, peak summer, which meant the temperature was infuriatingly high, so you found yourself dressing in as minimal clothing as possible.

You kept your distance from Ransom, considering he did wink at you as he carried your mother down the aisle. You barely knew the guy and honestly were upset that your mom had kept you out of the loop for so long.

You’re snapped out of your thoughts as your friend squeals to your side, slapping your arm, which you threw her an annoyed look for as you grumbled, “Ow!”

“He’s coming towards you! And he’s shirtless!” She squealed, and you side-eyed her because she had expressed her jealousy towards the attention Ransom showered you with many times.

Sighing and annoyed, you sink back into your seat and pull your sunglasses back down, lulling your head to the side as you relax in a blissful sun-induced coma. Minding your own business until the warm rays feeding into the euphoric feeling were suddenly snatched away, and you visibly shivered, taking your sunglasses off to figure out what had stunted your aura. Of course, it was the devil himself, your stepfather. You ignored the way your friend made moon eyes at him as you willed yourself not to stare at his carved chest and abs, chest dusted with brunette hair and shoulder muscles on display, making your face burn with embarrassment and your stomach flip how it always did when you saw him. Still, you weren’t sure what it meant since that feeling had never erupted inside you before.

You spoke very few words outside of courtesy with your mom, but even that was a bit strained now, considering she was always gone for a business meeting or hooking up with some other guy, if you were being honest. She had no more time for her only daughter anymore.

“You’re blocking the sun, Ransom.” You muttered, jaw clenching with annoyance.

He smirked and spoke as if he hadn’t heard you in the first place, “I saw a box come in shipped to you, so I figured I would open it and see what was inside and-” You interrupted him with a shriek. How could you have been so careless and not kept a watchful eye on your tracking number? Your vibrator was supposed to come in today! Your stomach swirled at the idea of Ransom opening a package addressed to his innocent step-daughter, only to find a little pink vibe inside.

You only ordered it after a conversation with your best friend where you admitted you’ve been feeling a little restless since you got back home. So you can admit to yourself that seeing Ransom sweaty first thing as you wake up after his morning runs and making his morning coffee with only a towel covering him led to a very, very restless day.

Thus, the easiest solution your friend offered you as you complained about your situation on facetime a couple of days back was to let loose a little. You weren’t entirely innocent, you had a couple of flings over the past couple of years of college and touched yourself a few times, but none of those sexual experiences ever caused anything significant for you. Instead, you just chalked it up to meaning sex would never be great for you, and it was what it was.

Now, Ransom stood in front of you, in all of his shirtless, jacked glory and your friend squealing a stupid excuse and already halfway to her car, you realized you had not melted into the floor as you desperately wished.

You peek at him, and he looks smug as ever, an infamous arrogant smirk on his stupidly handsome face and big hands on his hips. You dispute with a meek, “you’re not allowed to open my packages.”

Again, he completely ignores you, “I never knew my sweet stepdaughter was such a little slut.” He drawls, and you were ashamed at the gasp that escaped you, your thighs clenching somewhat inconspicuously. Though it obviously does not go unnoticed by Ransom, who laughs straight at your face before he mock pouts, “Aww, you feeling a little warm, baby? Why don’t you show me how you plan to use that toy?”

You stare at him, unable to process his words. Were you having another dream? Your response was as good as you could have hoped, "What? I can’t do that! You’re married to my mom!" Yet you couldn’t deny the wet patch growing on your bikini bottoms.

He scoffs at that, rolling his eyes, “We both know she’s out fucking Bucky or whoever she just stuck her claws into.” Then, a pause as you acknowledge his words, “Come on baby, not like I can’t practically smell your slutty little pussy already.” You gulp. Yes, you had wanted this for a long time, but that was nothing but a sinful fantasy you refused to unveil.

Your mom did always love to say when life gives you lemons…

Suddenly a surge of confidence allows you to slip your bikini bottoms down your legs. You know you successfully caught Ransom off guard because his smug expression was quickly replaced by one you could not identify just yet. You giggle at his stunned demeanour and spread your legs, revealing your dripping pussy to him. Quickly regaining his composure he chuckles, bending down in your open backyard to shamelessly inspect your pussy. He moves his fingers messily all around and even the slightest touches on your sweet spots (which he subconsciously notes for later) have you squirming, he spreads your lips apart and stares at your twitching clit, aching to get it in his mouth but he maintains his cool. He has dreamt about your pussy so many times now that he was not even the slightest bit ashamed by how painfully hard he was.

Pulling the little vibrator out of his back pocket he forces you to hold it, “Turn it on and put it on your hole, don’t you dare touch that little clit.” He grunts and you put on the sweetest, most obedient face you can muster before fiddling with the controls and placing the steady vibrations directly on your clit. Your back arches and you squeal and he immediately snatches your hand away from your pussy, with a disappointed tut causing the ache in your stomach to worsen. “Stupid little girl goes dumb with a drippy little pussy. Maybe this will teach you to fucking listen.” He growls, slapping your pussy hard in quick successions. You squeal loudly and jolt, your hand reaching out to grasp his wrist in a futile attempt to stop his assault on your most sensitive parts. The impact sends your mind reeling and your chest heaving.

Stopping after 10 harsh consecutive spanks he meets your hooded gaze to find you already whining, bucking your hips out, craving more of anything he was willing to offer. He grabs your cheeks, squishing them together and forcing you to look at him. “You gonna fucking listen to me now?” Without waiting for a response, he decides to nod your head up and down for you, laughing cruelly at the tears welling in your eyes. You wish you were a little bit more ashamed at the wetness which only seemed to be growing, now staining the lounge chair but you could not think past the newfound need for Ransom. “Let’s try again hmm?”

This time, Ransom decides to hold the vibe for you, playing around with settings as he pleases and you clench with fear of what he was going to do to you. Ransom was an asshole, and you doubted he would make much of an exception for you. He places the vibe on the second lowest setting on top of your pussy, avoiding getting too close to your visibly swollen clit. You shudder, gasping his name and he watches your body and reactions in complete awe.

He only dreamed of you being a slut, he never expected it to come true.

You cry out, body quivering as you need more. “Shut the fuck up. I’m finally getting my hands on you, I’m gonna enjoy this.” Ransom was purposely grazing over your slit, keeping the vibration low and holding you in place with his toned arm over your stomach. If he had his way he would just keep you like this, on the lowest setting, teasing you fruitlessly. You whine in response, “Y-You’re an asshole!” You expected your use of the obscenity to get a rise out of him but instead, he just laughs, clicking up the speed two notches and watching as your weak confidence quickly dissolved again. “I know baby, I’m so mean, aren’t I? But I can tell your pussy loves it, creaming all over yourself and my chair. I’m gonna make you lick it clean afterwards slut.” Your body clenches at the lewd image and he increases the speed again, this time trudging dangerously close to your swollen button and you whine, begging him aimlessly to touch you.

To anyone who would stumble into the backyard, they would be met with your squirming body, leg spread and wetness coating you with Ransom pressing a vibrator into your cunt. Your high-pitched moans and slurred begs wafted the breezy summer air. He shushes you with a hand around your throat, not choking you, just placed over the sensitive skin there. “I’ll consider letting you cum if you tell me how much you want me. If you admit how stupid you get when I’m near you.”

You really have no other option, do you?

“I- need you so bad Ransom. I think about you w-when I touch myself but it can never make me feel as good as you could. Don’t want toys or my fingers, need you, need you all the time. Please daddy!”

You don’t even register the title until mere milliseconds later the speed has catapulted and is now vibrating directly against your swollen button. He presses it into your clit almost painfully and you scream out, no longer fearing anyone stumbling in to find you so compromised.

“That’s it, get fuckin’ stupid fah me.” Ransom grunts, rubbing himself over his swim trunks. “How do you picture me touchin’ you. What makes your pussy cream huh slut?”

“Think about you fucking me everywhere! Where anyone can catch us! Think about calling you daddy and doing anything you want!” You squeal, greedily grinding your hips against the firm vibe and chasing your orgasm.

“Fuck, you’re dirtier than I thought. What about me sharing you with my friends, letting them watch your tight pussy suck me in, and offer you around like the pretty fuck toy you are.”

Ransom’s friends had come over a few times, they were respectful and they tried to hit on you every time. You had familiarized yourself with Andy, Ari, and Steve. They were obviously attractive, all older beefy men that you had fantasized about as well. The idea of being put on display for them, and then being passed around while they watched their games and drank beer had you shaking, reaching the edge suddenly as it pierced through your body. Your release soaking Ransom and getting past the chair as well and you mindlessly hump the wand. Ransom watches in awe as you cover him in your spend and he is damn near ready to bust in his pants.

Your chest heaves and your body trembles, heavy high pitched whines leaving your lips as he continues the relentless speed of the vibe against your clit, riding you through and past your high. “Can’t even get mad at you for not asking permission that was so fuckin’ hot.” He grunts, sloppily pressing his lips against yours as you struggle to reciprocate his kiss, only making Ransom that much harder.

Lowering his voice to a deep baritone, “Rule number 1, no touching Daddy’s pussy by yourself. You cum when I fuckin’ tell you to cum.”

He increases the speed again, and you have no choice but to take it. Happily.

»» ──────ஓ๑ ღ ๑ஓ ────── ««

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#ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale smut #ransom drysdale imagines #chris evans x reader #chris evans smut #chris evans imagines #tw stepcest

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