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boxofbonesfic · 10 months

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Title: 𝙳𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚕𝚐ä𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛 [5]

Pairing: Dark!Ransom x Reader, Lloyd Hansen x Reader

Summary: Your husband’s twin brother has always made you uncomfortable, and after two years of marriage, you finally find out why.

Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Possessive Behavior, Stalking, Kidnapping, Basement-wife, Gaslighting, Manipulation, Breeding kink, Smut, Darkfic, Dead Dove: Do not eat!

Word Count: 3,761

A/N: i cannot wait to see what you all think of this latest development! please drop by my ask with thoughts or comments, and as always, thanks everyone for your patience! ❤️ divider by @firefly-graphics

To your absolute horror, Lloyd doesn’t stop. You’re dizzy, both from the realization and the even, steady grind of his hips. It’s terribly familiar, the way he touches you—like it’s not the first time. Your stomach rolls as an anguished wail tears from your lips at the thought, because it’s the same one you’ve been shoving down, burying underneath every single other thing you can think of, because it couldn’t be true. Ransom wouldn’t do that you, he wouldn’t—

But he has.

Lloyd clucks his tongue at you, and reaches forward to cup your face. “You can scream, Princess.” He grins. “I know you can’t keep quiet anyway.” His words turn your stomach. Your arms, previously paralyzed at your sides, come up to push frantically at his face and chest as you curse.

“Get the fuck off me, Lloyd!” You scream, but he doesn’t move—doesn’t even falter as he continues to rut into your shamefully wet cunt. He doesn’t budge, like your blows don’t even hurt. It makes you even more panicked, your eyes growing wide as you sob. Frantically, you scream for your husband, your voice swallowed by the crashing surf.

“Ransom—! Ran—” Lloyd silences you with a kiss, swallowing your fear as he presses his lips to yours. Your shock allows him entry, sweeping his tongue into your mouth as you squirm beneath him. Lloyd catches your arms easily, forcing them back against the rock behind you.

“What’s the worst part, Princess?” He asks mockingly, his amused chuckle puffing against your lips. “That it’s me? Or that you liked it? That you always liked it?” You don’t want it to be true, shaking your head as you stare at him with tear-filled eyes. He nods in response, as slow and deliberate as his thrusts. Your stomach churns with the combination of this forbidden knowledge and the unwanted pleasure that creeps up your spine.

He knows your body, that much is obvious. You don’t know how you didn’t see it before, a hundred thousand puzzle pieces falling perfectly into place as your life crumbles around them. Lloyd holds you like Ransom, kisses you like Ransom—

Or does Ransom kiss you like Lloyd?

He plays your body perfectly, like you’re an instrument he’s already mastered. Even as your head swims, the thick weight of his cock drawing pleasure from you even as you fight against it. You can hear it, how wet you are, how much your traitorous body is enjoying Lloyd. It’s maddening, the way you clench and quake beneath him, struggling ineffectually against pleasure you don’t want. He transfers both your wrists to one hand, using the other to cup your chin.

“It’s really not as bad as you think,” he coos, dragging his thumb through your tears. He kisses you again, painfully softly. “I know what you like.” Lloyd’s fingers taste like the sea as he draws them across your trembling lips. “I know what you hate.” He traces circles around your puffy nipples, before painting stripes of salt-water down your belly. He spreads your lips wider with two fingers and draws those same circles around your clit.

“I hate you!” You grit through clenched teeth, through your furious, shameful tears. Lloyd clucks his tongue, before leaning down to nose at the skin of your throat.

“No you don’t, Princess. You love Ransom—so you love me. We’re the same, baby-doll.” He leans up, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “Don’t you get that yet?” You don’t want it to be true, it can’t be, they’re so different—but even as you think it, you know he’s not lying. You’re reeling, the stretch-burn, the raw pleasure of him inside you, the knowledge that he’s been there before—

You wail as you cum, staring unseeingly at the sky. Lloyd doesn’t even give you the courtesy of slowing down, instead fucking you steadily through it with his cock and fingers buried in your cunt. He carries you, unwilling, from one height to the next, twitching and pleading. When he finally pulls his fingers from your soaked folds, he sucks them clean.

“Love you so much, Princess,” he groans, rocking his hips steadily into yours as you mewl miserably. “I can wait for you to know you love me too.” His fingers press the skin of your hips like Ransom’s. Lloyd sucks your bottom lip, worrying it between his teeth with a growl. He holds you still while he empties into you. As he pants against your mouth, he grins.

“Feels good not to have to pretend.”

“Get off me.” You hiss at him, glaring at him with red-rimmed eyes. This time, he listens. He pulls out of you with an appreciative hum, stopping briefly to admire the slick, sticky mess he’s made. You pull your swimsuit down roughly, tugging your shirt tightly around yourself like a shield while you grab your now soaked shorts from the water, and begin to struggle into them.

“Let me—”

“Don’t fucking touch me!” You shriek, jumping further backwards into the surf. You slip on the rocks, barely remaining upright as you scramble away. “Y-you don’t touch me!” You brandish a slick rock in your hand as threateningly as you can. “I—I’m going to tell Ransom, an-and—”

The look he gives you is almost pitying. “Oh Princess. Go on and tell him.” He nods at you with a sick smile. “Tell me what he says.” Lloyd holds his hands up as you retreat, giving him as wide a berth as you an as you circle back to shore. He doesn’t follow you, watching as you stumble across the sand. You head into the trees and underbrush ringing the beach, fleeing your brother-in-law’s gaze. You know the general direction of the hotel, and you head that way, opting not to go back to the party.

The party. Your stomach turns as you think of it now, Linda’s words holding fresh meaning now. Did she know? Did Ransom? The entire idea was so ludicrous you could scarcely believe it was really happening—but it was. It had. The evidence of Lloyd’s transgression was smeared between your salt-stained thighs. You want to vomit, and so you do, leaning against a tree as you heave into the sand.

“Sweetheart?”

You look up, your eyes wild. It’s Ransom—or Lloyd. You don’t know, now, torn between wanting to rush into his arms, or turn and run. You simply stare at him distrustfully, mirroring his step forward with one back, maintaining the distance between you with careful precision.

“Baby, what’s wrong? You just wandered off, and—”

“Are you Lloyd?” You ask sharply, swallowing the desire to respond to his concern. You can’t trust your own eyes now, not anymore, and you don’t want to get close enough to verify.

Ransom stares at you confusedly.

“No? Why would you ask me that? Did something happen?” He takes another step closer, his arms outstretched placatingly. There’s true worry on his face as he takes in your wretched state, your open shirt and wet shorts, dirty feet and missing shoes. “Baby, did something happen?” He asks again, slower and more deliberate. You want to believe him, this man wearing your husband’s wedding ring, staring at you with the same eyes as the man you’d run away from.

“Tell me something about the fountain.”

“The what?”

“The fountain!” You shrill hoarsely. “The fountain, from—”

“The one in the village,” Ransom finishes. “With the messed up tiles.”

This time, you can’t stop yourself from rushing into his arms, sobbing.

“I—Lloyd, he—” The words won’t come out between your hiccoughing sobs, and you settle for burying your face in his chest as Ransom wraps his arms around you. He holds you tightly, pressing you to his body as you wail. The truth sticks in your throat like taffy as you tangle your fingers in his shirt, tears soaking into the expensive fabric.

“It’s okay, Sweetheart.” His voice is soothing. “I’m here. I got you, okay? I got you.” He doesn’t rush you, waiting until the tears slow to press a kiss into your hair. “You don’t have to talk right now. Let’s get you back to the room, okay?”

Ransom practically carries you through the underbrush, emerging near the long stairwell up from the beach. Your family—and his—are still down at the party, but you barely spare them a glance as you stagger up the sandy concrete steps. Before long, the ringing in your ears blocks out the music anyway, and all you can think about is Lloyd’s response to your threat.

Go on and tell him. Tell me what he says.

Lloyd is nowhere to be seen as you enter the villa, and you release a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You didn’t even realize you’d been watching for him, waiting for him to appear like he always did—but he doesn’t. You’re relieved as Ransom leads you back into the bedroom and closes the door behind you. For a moment, you’re not sure what to do with yourself, standing blankly by the door while Ransom watches you helplessly.

“Sweetheart… can you tell me?” He asks, resting his hands on your shoulders. You flinch at his touch instead of leaning into it, and pain flashes briefly across your face. Somehow, you are hesitant to name the shape of the monster that haunts you even now, like Lloyd had cursed your jaw to stick. With difficulty, your force it open.

“He—he pretended… he was you. And… we… I didn’t know, Ran, I didn’t know it wasn’t you,” you babble, tears forming in your red, glassy eyes. You’re expecting to see his face crease with disgust at the part you won’t say out loud, but it doesn’t. Ransom’s silent, his face scrunching first with disappointment and then anger. You can tell he’s looking for an outlet, and he settles on routine.

“Did you take your vitamins, Sweetheart?” He replies, a worried hand on your belly. “Does anything… hurt?” You shake your head.

“N-no.” Ransom turns to the dresser, grabbing the bottles and shaking out your pills one by one. You take them, shuffling into the suite’s bathroom. You a cup cool water from the faucet and bring it to your lips, swallowing them down with a grimace.

“Let’s get you a bath, Baby.”

You nod wordlessly.

Ransom helps you get undressed, and you watch his jaw tic at Lloyd’s drying cum on your thighs. He fills the whirlpool tub with hot water, and you shift uncomfortably from foot to foot as you watch him. When it’s full, he helps you into it before splashing into the water himself. He sits on the back side of the tub with you between his knees, reaching down to hold you as you sink into the water.

You lean back against your husband, fresh tears pooling in the corners of your eyes. I want to wake up now. There’s little you wouldn’t give to open your eyes and find yourself on the beach, this terrible nightmare broken. But when you do open your eyes, you’re still in the bathroom, your husband’s hands rubbing soothing circles into your skin as you wash away the evidence of his brother’s sin.

“Oh Sweetheart. I’m so sorry. I… I don’t know what to say.” He strokes your hair as he speaks to you softly, gently, like he’s soothing an animal. “Lloyd’s a lot of things. Impatient, being chiefest among them.” You freeze, the air seeming to flow right out of your lungs—out of the whole room. The dripping of the faucet is as loud as thunder.

“W-what?”

“I didn’t want you to find out like this, Sweetheart, believe me.” You wrench yourself away from him, water sloshing over the sides of the tub as you stare at your husband in disbelief. It feels like reality is crumbling to nothing as you watch, bleached into dust by the brightness of his sad smile. It’s all you can see.

“N-no, no no no no—” He reaches for you, and you slap his had away, tripping as you scramble out of the tub. “You knew.” You moan, bile rising in your throat as you wrap a towel around yourself. “You—you always knew.” Ransom rises from the lip of the tub and steps out onto the tile. You want to vomit, but there’s nothing left to bring up as you dry-heave into the sink.

“Sweetheart, I need you to calm down, this stress isn’t good for the baby.”

“The baby—” You let out a despairing little laugh. “How long, Ransom?” You ask him hoarsely. “How long have you been letting this happen?” Finally, your husband has the decency to look ashamed.

“Does it matter?”

“Yes!” You scream, pounding a fist against the counter. “Yes it fucking matters!”

“I think before New Years, last year.”

“A—a year?” You choke out the words as you clutch your belly with a shaking hand. The baby—you don’t even know if it’s Ransom’s. You feel dirty, despite having bathed. Deeper than your skin, like something inside is tainted, rotten. You want to crawl out of it, leave it behind like a shell. Perhaps then you might be able to draw enough air into your tight lungs to be able to do more than sputter your husband’s words back at him in abject disbelief.

You don’t want to relive the last year and a half but you can’t help it, flipping through the moments like flash cards as you try to pinpoint every transgression, every lie. For every possible memory that feels wrong, there are dozens of blank spaces, empty places where recollection should be. Your husband had poked his finger through the thin saran wrap of your memories, and you hadn’t even realized it was happening.

Ransom reaches forward to rest a hand on your back and you shove him so hard he stumbles, your eyes wild.

“Don’t touch me. You—you will never touch me again.” You hiss, the words ragged. Ransom scowls at you as you storm out of the bathroom, the towel still clutched against your heaving chest. You can barely hear anything over the sound of your own ragged breathing and the thundering of your heart. They’d been switching off for over a year, and you hadn’t even noticed. Sickness and shame twine in your gut as you snatch the clothes in the closet off their hangers, throwing them into your open suitcase without bothering to fold them.

“Sweetheart, don’t be rash. The baby—”

“Will not even know your name.” You don’t look at Ransom—you can’t. You feel like you don’t even know him, and you can’t help but wonder if you ever did. He’d known—hell, maybe he’d even participated in Lloyd’s sick games. The man you’d thought you married would never have stood for that. You grit your teeth as Ransom scoffs amusedly behind you.

“You’re just going to pack your suitcase and go, is that it?” There’s a cruel edge to his voice you don’t recognize—it makes him sound like Lloyd. “Baby I’m just trying to give you what you want.” You glare at him over your shoulder before returning to packing, refusing to even entertain the discussion. You push past him to get to the dresser, pulling out the rest of your things.

“You’re not thinking clearly, and I think if you really stopped and gave it some thought, you’d realize you’re making a mistake.”

“Oh, I’m the one making the mistake?” You can’t help but turn to spit venom over your shoulder. “You and your brother took turns on me like a fucking carnival ride, but I’m making a mistake?”

“You wanted a big family, a stable family. One nobody could touch—”

“You’re sick.” You swallow against the bitter acid in your throat. “How can you try to make this okay? I—I never want to see you again. Ever. I—I really, truly mean that.” The needle inside you continues to swing between rage and abject horror as you dress yourself, practically shoving your limbs into the most convenient pair of shorts and a t-shirt. Your head buzzes with the turmoil of it all, practically full to bursting. Your passport is still in the bedside table, and you make sure you grab it, shoving it into your pocket before throwing open the bedroom door.

It’s hard to breathe around the ache in your chest as you drag your heavy suitcase down the hallway, trying to ignore the sound of your husband behind you. You’re bordering on hysteria, frantic tears and snot running down your face as you flee your husband’s placating words. That’s probably the most maddening part of it—how he continues to parse out the words slowly, patiently, like he’s waiting for you to realize how sensible he’s being. You’re about ten seconds away from clapping your hands over your ears like a child, so you don’t have to hear him anymore

“Sweetheart, let’s talk about this.” Ransom calls after you. You stagger against the wall as your knees tremble, but you force yourself through it. Your heart is beating wildly, your palms clammy as you look back at your husband. You don’t expect to see him smiling. “You’re not being rational, baby.”

You don’t even know how to respond. The only words that seem to come to mind are insults, curses; the violent ills you’re currently wishing on your husband and his family. You can’t listen to him—it’s only going to make you more enraged. You already feel like your heart is about to beat out of your chest, as you gulp down ragged breaths, your vision swimming. You rest a hand against the kitchen island, your whole body throbbing hotly with your pulse.

“Shut the fuck up, Ransom,” you pant. “You can’t spin this.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that.” He ignores your acid glare, leaning forward to curl a lock of your hair around his finger. You push him away, but the movement is clumsy, your hand swinging bonelessly at the end of your arm. “You know how persuasive I can be.”

“You’re really just like him.” It slips out before you can stop it as you shake your head in astonishment.

“Oh what, you just figure that out?” Ransom’s voice is mockingly soft. “It took you long enough.”

You slap him.

The sound of it is loud and sharp, and Ransom’s head actually turns with the force of it, your husband stumbling back a few steps. It was his surprise that had allowed it—you and Ransom had never struck each other, not counting the playful smacks he delivered in the bedroom. For a moment he stays like that, frozen, before slowly turning to look at you. Your wedding ring had split his lip, and you watch as he draws his thumb across it smearing the bright line of crimson across his mouth.

“You’re starting to piss me off, Sweetheart.” His hand clamps so tightly around your wrist that it hurts, and you yelp, pushing uselessly at his chest. Ransom had never been violent with you, never even given you reason to suspect he would raise a hand to you, but as he bends you over the kitchen island, you feel fear. Your husband twists your arms behind your back, ignoring your pained whimper when he squeezes too tight.

This—this isn’t happening. It’s not. My family is here, my, my father—

You wail, the sound muffled by the marble countertop and your tears, salt and snot running onto the counter beneath your cheek.

“Just let me go, Ransom—”

“Oh Baby we are way past that.” The kiss he presses into your hair makes nausea churn in your belly, and you let out another sob. “I put a ring on that—where’s your finger, baby, let me see—ah! There it is.” Ransom holds your hand up, his fingers digging into the meat of your palm. “On that finger,” he continues, tapping the diamond with his fingernail. “Till death do us part, Sweetheart, that’s what we said. That’s what you promised me—and Lloyd.”

“You’re crazy—” The words stick in your throat as your vision tunnels. I feel sick. You do, your stomach churning as your heartbeat thunders in your ringing ears.

“Wha-you do’t me?” The words are like bubblegum in your mouth as your husband chuckles softly.

“You didn’t really think those were all vitamins, did you?” Your eyes widen with horror as you begin to struggle again, flailing your uncoordinated limbs as you try to force Ransom off of you. “Now don’t worry, it’s nothing that could hurt the baby,” he says reassuringly, as if that is your only cause for concern.

“Noo,” you moan, wriggling feebly beneath him as you feel yourself recede further and further into your body. “Don’ wannit.”

“I know, Sweetheart. But what you want isn’t good for the family,” he says, stroking a gentle finger over the curve of your cheek. “You want to run, too run from what we’re trying to build with you. For you,” Ransom releases you as the sound of nearby voices reach your buzzing ears. “I’m not going to let that happen.”

He steps away from you as Nathalie bursts through the door, holding a champagne bottle by the neck as she dances to music blaring from her phone speakers.

“There you are, chica, we were looking—mom! Dad! She’s in here! I thought you—are you okay?” She sets the bottle down on the small table to the right of the sliding door. She rushes over to you, looping one limp arm around your shoulders as concern sets into the lines of her face. “Jesus, I—Ransom! What’s wrong with her?!”

Your husband appears in your tunnel-vision, carding a worried hand through his hair.

“Thank fucking Christ, Nathalie—I was just going to text you. I think she’s having a reaction to something, I don’t know—”

“Nn-Nat don-bel—eev ‘m,” your warning slurs together into an unintelligible soup as your head lolls. Nathalie tries to stand you up against the counter, and dimly you are aware of her calling for your parents, her voice muffled like she’s talking underwater.

Lloyd—or is it Ransom?—lays you down on the countertop, his grinning face looming over you as your vision narrows down to a pinprick, the concern in his voice at complete odds with the grin on his face.

“Don’t worry. We’ll take care of you.”

to be continued…

next chapter

Thank you for reading! Please check out my masterlist for other, similar works, and follow my library blog, @box-of-bones-library for updates. ❤️

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thyme-in-a-bubble · 9 months

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the murder at evergreen university

a/n: asdfghjkl I have been writing this since january...... wow. it's never taken me that long to write a story before... also I made a quick student bio about the majority of the people in this story, so if you wanna start off by looking at that, then here is the link ♡

summary: just a slutty murder mystery

warnings: reader x various CEvans characters (Ransom Drysdale, Curtis Everett, Ari Levinson, Steve Rogers, Frank Adler, Jake Jensen, Lloyd Hansen), DARK content, noncon, smut, violence, university AU, murder mystery, detective!Ari, family friend!Ari, mma!Curtis (I just couldn't resist), surely extremely inaccurate on all levels (the college stuff, the investigation, everything, but this is just for fun so it's okay. lol I got the frat name from fantasynamegenerators.com hehe), polyamory, kissing, alcohol consumption, crying, drugging, murder, somno, daddy kink, dirty talk, choking, penetrative sex, size kink, vomiting, flashback sequences are written in all cursive

word count: 11.100

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist | evergreen university masterlist

Walking up the steps of the Kappa Zeta Nu building, you pulled your humming ear pods out of your ears and popped them in the jacket pocket where your phone rested. If it hadn’t been for the big Greek letters above and its proximity to the college, the fraternity house could almost fool someone into thinking it was just any other regular suburban home.

Giving the front door a rhythmic knock, it quickly swung open to reveal a scruffy-looking mathematics major, still groggy from sleep.

“Morning Frank,” you couldn’t help but notice the spark in his eye that your presence generated.

“Angel,” your nickname sounded so good on his sleepy lips, making you smile as he gave you a quick glance up and down, “how do you look like that this early in the morning?”

Walking past him, further into the house, you chuckled, “8:30 is not that early.”

“Um, on a Saturday it is.”

Thanks to the open floor plan, you quickly caught sight of Jake sitting by the kitchen island, scarfing down a bowl of cereal.

“Hey!” the blonde smiled, mouth still full of his breakfast, “I’m guessing by the gorgeous look on your face that you made it through last night?”

“Yep,” you exhaled, thinking back on the major cram session you had to power through in order to meet the paper’s deadline. The lengthy assignment for your cognitive psychology class had been so extensive that it probably hadn’t been that smart of you to keep procrastinating it the way that you had, but somehow you got it done, “turned it in just in time.”

“Atta girl,” the computer whiz reached over the counter to give you a high five, “I knew you could do it!”

“Speaking of yesterday,” yours and Jake’s fingers lingered a moment before parting ways, “how’s our boy doing? Did he make it through last night?”

Appearing behind you, still sweaty and panting from his morning run, Steve answered your question, evidently catching the tail end of the conversation just as he came in through the door, “Curtis is doing just fine,” he leaned against one of the counters, catching his breath, “better than fine actually, he won.”

“He did?” a bright smile bloomed on your face, “man, I wish I could have been there…” you were usually so strict about being there for important things, such as Curtis’ occasional MMA fights, but because of your procrastinated schoolwork, you hadn’t been able to tag along. “It’s all Lloyd’s fault, you know. He did the whole oh yeah, we can have a little study date, get that paper done, no sweat, and then distracted me, leaving me with all of the work to get through yesterday.”

“You wanna turn the faucets on down here, give his shower an icy turn as revenge?” Jake suggested, fiddling with his spoon playfully.

“Nah, I’ll just give him the cold shoulder for a bit,” you settled your forearms against the countertop, unintentionally giving the guys a better view down your top, “he hates it when I ignore him.”

“He sure does,” Jakes drawled, nearly dropping his utensil into the milky bowl as he unabashedly stared down your cleavage.

Biting your bottom lip a second, you returned to the matter at hand, “is he up yet?”

“Curtis?” Steve clarified, opening the fridge and plucking out a cold bottle of water.

“Yeah.”

“Nope,” Frank shook his head behind you, “he’s still sleeping.”

Only pushing yourself halfway up, you asked “can I go see him?” slightly taking the others by surprise.

“When have you even needed permission to go barge into his room?” Frank questioned.

“I don’t know…” you muttered, glancing down at the speckled pattern of the counter's surface, “maybe he’s got company or something…”

“Angel,” Steve leaned over the opposite side of the table, craning his neck so that he could catch your timid eyes, “he is not gonna go pick up some random girl just because you miss one of his fights.”

Bowing your head, you opted not to answer, instead just attempted to shake the doubt off you entirely.

In a bouncy rocking motion, you straitened back up and moved towards the stairs, two of the guys tagging along as they too needed to head upstairs.

“So,” you glanced over your shoulder at Frank and Steve, “how’s Ransom settling in?”

“The new guy?” Steve spoke, “fine, I think. I don’t know, I don’t speak trust fund kid, so how would I know.”

“I don’t think he’s that bad… Shouldn’t we at least try to include him in our little group? It just seems kinda mean not to since we’re so tight and you all live with him,” reaching the top of the stairs, you heard, from the bathroom directly in front of you, the trickling clues of Lloyd’s luxurious shower, and briefly glanced down at the far end of the hall where the new guy’s closed door was, his vast room mirroring Steve’s at the opposite side, though his was much more secluded from the rest, being closed in by the injection of both the broad staircase and the bathroom before the cluster of rooms came. “Like you said, you don’t know him yet, he might be super sweet and just takes a bit of time to warm up to people.”

“Maybe,” was all Frank cagily, not giving it any more thought.

Coming to a stop in front of Curtis’ door, you slowly creaked it open, revealing the sleeping display of a bruised buzzcut, still lightly snoring on his back.

“Jesus christ,” you breathed and leaned your shoulder against the doorframe, taking in the beaten form of your friend, “you sure he won?” you asked the men still lingering a second longer, peeking over your shoulder into the room.

“Yeah, you don’t wanna see the other guy,” Frank gave your behind a quick tap before ducking into his own room.

Turning your head to look at Steve, himself leisurely making his way down towards the room at the end of the hall, “you sure he’s fine?”

Stopping in his step, he offered you an earnest glance, “he’s fine, Y/n. Go wake him up.”

After shutting the door behind you, you peeled off your jacket and let it drop down onto the desk chair you passed on your way towards the small mattress. Kicking off your shoes, you climbed the twin bed, kneeling beside your resting friend.

“Wake up,” you sang, dipping your smile down low to rouse Curtis. Receiving a less than lively reaction, only getting a soft inhale of breath as an indication that he’d woken, you tried again, swinging one of your legs over his form to straddle his hips, “hey, tough guy,” you felt his palms slide up the curve of your ass and come to rest around your waist, “you alive?”

Just barely fluttering his bruised eyelids open, a bright smile bloomed on his lips, “hi angel,” he sighed contently at your presence, blinking up at your softly illuminated form as the gentle morning light streamed in through his open window, the family of birds living in the tree just outside aiding in the gentle ambience.

“A little birdy told me that you won last night,” you let your upper body sink down against his, resting your chin on top of your folded palms, right underneath his chin.

“I did,” you saw as the sting of his various injuries woke him up even further, “although I still would have preferred if my good luck charm had been there instead of doing boring homework.”

“Oh, please don’t make me feel any worse,” you hid your face in his chest, “I already feel like I have too much making up to do.”

“Oh yeah?” he picked your head up for you to see the sly smirk now adorning his face, “what did you have in mind?”

“I don’t know,” you spoke shyly, feeling your cheeks flush as the position the two of you had found yourself in dawned on you, “I just really wanted to have been there,” and you sat back up, wary of where you placed your hands for support on his beaten frame.

“Ah,” he waved a reassuring hand, “you’ll be at the next one.”

“Oh, I will,” you grinned promisingly, scooting down to the foot of the bed as you watched him sit up, the duvet falling off his body to relieve the rest of the colourful aftermath, “a simple assignment won’t be able to stop me,” your enthusiasm made him smile through the wince he let out as he got up off the mattress.

Tailing after Curtis as he moved out into the hall and made his way down towards the lavatory, you suggested as you followed him into the bathroom, “we should totally do something to celebrate your win! It’s the weekend, we should do something fun!”

Standing by one of the sinks, Lloyd, fresh out of the shower, didn’t take his eyes off his hair in the reflection as you sauntered in. As Curtis grabbed his toothbrush, he leaned down and whispered cheekily in your ear, “I know a way we can celebrate, just the two of us,” flashing you a glance that caused your breath to get caught in your throat.

Cutting off your flustered giggle, Lloyd spoke, “there’s supposed to be a party tonight down on the other side of campus. Me and a few of the others were talking about going.”

“Oh, the one Delta Phi is throwing? Nat’s going to that! Said something this morning about meeting the guy she’s been seeing there.”

“What-, guy?” Lloyd finally ripped his eyes away from the mirror, “what happened to that yoga chick?”

“I don’t know, I think she was moving a little bit too fast for Natasha’s speed,” you spoke of your commitment-phobe of a roommate. Saddling up beside the fighter now brushing his teeth, you said, “so, what do you say?” bumping your hip gently against his as you saw him look back at you in the mirror, “it could be fun.”

Pretending to ponder the proposal, Curtis answered, “if you put on a pretty little dress, then I might be convinced to go,” the foaming toothpaste lightly murmuring his flirting.

“…It’s always the innocent-looking ones you’ve gotta look out for,” Ransom spoke over the loud, bassy music to the moustachioed man next to him on the couch, “and this little charade you’ve all got going on must be a hell of a good time,” he elbowed him suggestively, though didn’t conjure the desired reaction from him, “oh, come on, you can tell me, dude. Just help a brother out with a few details.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Lloyd shrugged with a smirk and took a sip of his beer.

“What do you mean?”

Huffing out a soft sigh, he answered, “she’s an amazing girl, don’t get me wrong, but she just has a few rules.”

“What, like some bdsm kinda rules?” Ransom’s eyebrows wiggled excitedly.

“No, man,” he tried not to chuckle at the yearned-for images his inappropriate guess provoked, “back when we met her she-… her heart was fucking broken and there wasn’t a lot of stuff that she wanted to do anymore, that she felt comfortable with, but over time, I guess when she started getting over whomever that fucker was, she began to relax and let us in.”

“So, you’re really saying you haven’t hit that yet?” the prying man furrowed his brows, unmoved by the sob story.

“None of us have.”

“Then are those stories about you banging her last week just rumours?”

“No, no, well not exactly, we did have fun, trust me,” he chuckled, poking his cheek playfully with his tongue, “but I didn’t exactly bang her.”

“So, let me get this right, you’re all mad for her and she hasn’t given out? To any of you? What, is she still a virgin or something? Waiting for marriage?”

“I don’t think so,” Llyod thought for a moment, “but it kinda wouldn’t surprise me either if she was… I don’t know… it’s kinda complicated, but damn if she isn’t worth it.”

Letting out a low exhale, he shook his head, “I don’t know how you stand it, dude. If she was mine, she wouldn’t be able to walk. Hell, how do you even share someone like her?”

“Well, I don’t know if she’s mine per se, we all just have fun, you know? Why not share?”

“Hey,” your chipper voice interrupted their lewd convocation as you finally caught sight of them on the dark leather couch in the corner of the party, “there you are,” and immediately grabbed each of their hands in yours, “come on,” you leaned your weight back, ushering them to get up, “we’re doing shots in the kitchen!”

“Seriously, Barnes? Watch where you’re going!” Ransom exclaimed as the host of the party had rowdily bumped into the rich boy on his way through the narrow kitchen, causing the bright pink shot in his hand to spill all down the front of his white sweater, “this is cashmere, dude!” he yelled after Bucky’s quickly disappearing form, clearly not haven noticed the interaction himself over the deafening music and his drunken haze.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, noticing the huge stain now blooming on the man beside you, “are you okay?” the sharp alcohol still stung in your throat causing your words to come out ragged.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he stared down at himself, then over his shoulder in contemplation of whether or not he should run after the guy in pursuit of revenge, “this sweater however is not.”

As your eyes washed over the ivory knit, watching it soak up the colourful cocktail, you thought out loud as an idea struck you, “well, maybe…” and acted quickly, grabbing the man’s hand, “come with me,” you yanked him past the rest of your jovial friends and down the hallway towards the small bathroom.

Catching on to where your head was at, Ransom spoke after crossing the threshold, “Y/n, this is very sweet, but I don’t know if it will work.”

“Just shut up and take it off,” you held out your hand, too blind by your inebriated problem-solving instincts to consider any other outcome.

Gazing back at you a moment, he then chuckled and tugged the sweater over his head with one hand, your eyes widening as he placed the item in your waiting palm, it haven apparently been the only layer he had on.

“Thank you,” you breathed, dumbfounded for a second as you stared at his bare chest, briefly admiring his toned form before shaking it off and spinning around to turn on the sink. Holding the stained material against the slowly trickling cold water, you pressed and pinched the spot gently in an effort to not agitate the delicate fibres. “I swear, I’m always the worst at spilling stuff on myself, I’m like a child, plus the fact that I’m a knitter, so not to promise anything, but I’d say you’re in pretty good hands.”

He didn’t say anything, simply settled in beside you, leaning against the edge of the sink as he watched your face contort in adorable concentration.

“Oh, dammit…” you gave up after a few minutes of gentle scrubbing. Turning the faucet off, you held the sweater up and looked at the, although lighter, still very much visible pink stain, “well at least it’s a little bit better than before,” you tried, flashing the half-naked man an apologetic look, “maybe if I soak it a bit it’ll get better, but-”

“Hey,” Ransom placed his fingers atop yours still clutching the wool, “it’s fine,” he lowered your hands as he leaned in and closed the gap between you two, his alcoholic breath fanning across your flush cheeks as he uttered a quiet, “thank you,” before unexpectedly pressing a greedy kiss against your lips.

Feeling his grip tug the sweater out of your hands, you instinctively pressed your palms against his chest for support as the whole move had made your intoxicated body lose its balance. His lips were soft, but his kisses were hungry, determinedly letting it build far faster than you were ready for.

You let out a soft giggle of surprise as he suddenly scooped you up and planted you on the edge of the sink, nestling himself in between your parted thighs, your short dress haven ridden up from the movement.

“So, is this why they all call you angel?” he asked as his heated pecks fluttered down your neck, “because you swoop in and save the day?”

“I don’t know if I do that…” you breathed timidly, the reality of what he was doing just catching up to you now.

“Oh, but you do. You saved mine,” he smirked, “you’re my hero,” you felt the tickle of his fingers as they snuck further up under your dress, “however can I repay you?”

“I, um,” you giggled nervously, catching his wrists before they could get any further, pressing your lips against his in an effort to soften the blow as you thought of a gentle way to let him down, “I think that kiss by itself was a pretty good thank you,” you hopped down from the sink even though he made no effort in providing you room to do so.

Enclosing his arms around you as you giggly stumbled further towards the still-ajar door, he uttered, pressing the obvious tent in his pants up against your softness, “but why stop there? I can do a lot better than that if you just give me five more minutes,” but the door conveniently swung open a bit more just as two familiar figures passed it.

“Angel!” Jake, completely blind to the man still clawing at you to stay inside the bathroom, hooked an arm around your waist and yanked you along as he and Frank jovially strolled past, “there you are! It’s almost 11 o'clock, please don’t tell me that you’re bailing on Curtis and truly dooming him to lose to us.”

“I think Curtis would lose to you two in beer pong whether I am on his team or not,” you smiled, thankful of their timing, “you guys are the reigning champions after all.”

“Damn right,” Frank roared, excitedly lifting his fist, “J and F! F and J! Ain’t nothing this duo can’t accomplish.”

“Well, not everything,” you giggled, hooking your arms around their forms as they strolled on either side of you, their arms draped over you in return, “for instance, you’re both terrible cooks.”

“Shut up, angel,” Jake said playfully, “we’re unstoppable and you know it,” he stopped you in your tracks and trapped you against the wall, “say it,” he smirked down at you as Frank, not missing a beat, slipped in as well, enclosing you completely, “say that we’re unstoppable.”

Sucking in a sharp breath, you uttered, “you’re unstoppable,” the sudden proximity awakening memories that made your heart flutter.

“Good girl,” he purred purposely, and a shiver ran down your spine as you recalled just how hot they both sounded cumming for you, a while back, when they had managed to talk you into playing with them both.

“You guys are so mean,” you said light-heartedly.

“Yeah,” Frank scrunched his nose through his warm smile, “but you like it.”

Twirling you around the dancefloor, Lloyd had been the only one in the mood to satisfy your surge of energy when you came pouting, begging the boys to dance with you. Holding you close, his hands roamed as you rocked to the music, causing you to close your eyes and drift away.

“Hey,” a different hand suddenly tapped you on the shoulder and tore you out of your dream, “I need to talk to you a sec.”

Eyes fluttering open to look back at your redheaded roommate, you gave her a quick, “okay,” before raising yourself up onto your toes to speak into your dance partner’s ear, “hey, I’ll be right back!”

“Okay,” he shouted back over the loud music, “I’ll just go grab a drink, you want any?”

“Please,” you reluctantly let go of his hand and yelled after him as you followed your friend through the swarm of partying people, “a beer, thanks!”

Rounding the corner to settle into a comparatively quieter nook, you tugged your wild hair behind your ears as you looked back at Natasha, “what’s up?”

Biting her lip, she spoke, “you love me, right?”

“Well, obviously, I’m about to get down on one knee and everything,” you joked, “what is it?”

“Can I have the room tonight?” she asked with a small winch, knowing damn well how frequent this request was.

“Seriously?” your eyebrows shot up, “again?”

“Please?” she folded her hands dramatically in front of her and begged.

Letting out a soft sigh, you said slowly, “if you buy me that super good chocolate with the blue wrapper that they sell down on the corner, then-”

“Oh my god,” she cut you off and threw her arms around you, “thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“You’re the worst roommate ever, you know that?” you smiled, patting her back.

“And you are the best, a true saint! Me and my sex life pray at your altar.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you chuckled, playfully pushing her away, “go on then, get laid.”

Returning to find that Lloyd had settled in with the rest of the guys, taking up all of the clustered couches, you put on your best miserable expression as he handed you your beer, “guys,” you dramatically caught their attention, “I have some really devastating news to tell you…” faking the need to suck in a self-soothing breath before uttering, “tonight, on this very night, I am homeless!”

“Oh no!” they played along, giggling as you pressed the back of your hand up against your forehead.

“I know! Whatever am I to do? If only some big, strong, handsome boys would let me crash at their frat…”

Clutching onto Curtis’ broad shoulders as he gave you a piggyback ride back to the frat, you all laughed at Jake and Frank’s terrible, lewd rendition of the school’s fight song. If Lloyd had been here, if his stamina hadn’t forced him to stay out and enjoy the night a little longer, he would have probably not only joined in, but led the tune, waking up everyone in the dorms you passed.

“So,” Ransom smirked as you all tumbled in through the destinated front door, “who will have the pleasure of bunking with you tonight?”

“I, uh,” you giggled as Curtis sat you down, your shoes clutched in your hand, “I don’t know…”

“You can sleep in my room if you want,” Steve offered generously, “I’ll just sleep down here on the couch.”

“Really? Are you sure? Because I can just sleep down here on the couch, it’s fine.”

“No, no,” he waved a hand reassuringly, “you’ve had way more to drink tonight than I have, so you should really take the room closest to the bathroom, just in case.”

Smiling widely, you stumbled over and wrapped your arms around his bulky form, “thank you, Steve,” breathing in his scent as you smooshed your face into his t-shirt, “you’re the best.”

“You wanna borrow a shirt to sleep in?” Curtis asked, reaching out a quick arm to steady you as you lost your balance on your way towards the wide staircase.

“Oh, yeah,” you offered him a fuzzy smile, both the alcohol and the hour causing your eyelids to feel like they weighed a ton, “that would be great.”

Getting settled into the comparatively more private bedroom located next to the stairs, the bathroom too separating it from the rest of the doors clustered down the narrow hallway, you lazily changed into the t-shirt Curtis soon handed off to you, tugging it over your dress before sliding your party outfit off underneath the grey cotton, keeping yourself somewhat covered purely because you didn’t wanna end the conversation you and the rest of the boys were trying to wrap up.

“Alright, we should probably let the lady sleep,” Steve spoke, watching closely as every time you blinked, your eyes gradually stayed closed just a little longer, nearly falling asleep against Curtis’ broad shoulder.

“No, no,” you protested, inhaling sharply in an effort to wake up more, “I’m just resting my eyes…”

“Right,” Frank chuckled as they all got up from their comfy seat on the mattress, being too tired to fight it, Curtis gently helped you lay down, tugging the duvet over your curled-up form.

“Hey,” Ransom poked his head into the room as the rest began to filter out, “I thought you might like this,” you were surprised to see him have a small glass of water in his hand for you. Not simply placing it on the bedside table by your head, he kneeled down next to you and held it out, “here,” expecting for you to take it, “I swear, chugging a glass of water helps with the hangover,” sliding his free palm under your head to raise it up.

“Thank you,” you smiled wearily as you slowly accepted it and raised it up towards your lips.

Noticing that you were only taking a small sip, his fingers found the bottom of the glass and pressed it up further, “all of it,” he tilted it for you to down it all, “or else it doesn’t work.”

Coughing lightly as you lowed the now empty glass, it left an odd taste in your mouth, though you just summed it up to be the handiwork of some of the strong beverages you had consumed during the night working its way up again.

“Thanks, Ransom,” you groggily patted his cheek, “you’re so sweet.”

His eyes flickering over your tired face, smooshed against the pillow, he smirked, “goodnight,” got back up and strolled out past Curtis still lingering in the doorway, arms crossed and watching over you like a guard dog.

“Night,” you quietly called out after him as you saw his frame disappear towards the furthest room down the hallway. Redirecting your attention back to your friend, you hummed, “go to bed, Curt. You gotta still be super sore from last night.”

“It’s not that bad.”

“Oh, so you’re just gonna stand there all night, fall asleep on your feet and act as my sleep paralysis demon for the night?” you joked with half-closed eyes.

A small laugh bubbled out of him as he finally moved, “sleep well, angel,” he uncrossed his arms and reached out for the doorknob to tug it closed.

“Goodnight, Curtis,” you snuggled further into the pillow as you felt sleep overtake you like a wave crashing the shore, adding absentmindedly under your breath, “love you.”

“Hmm…” you hazily blinked your heavy lids open, roused by the pinching pressure between your thighs. Looking up at the dimly lit figure, you mumbled fuzzily, “w-what?” unsure if this was real life or a dream as the whole bed spun beneath you and you felt like you were floating.

“Shh, go back to sleep, angel,” Ransom’s grunt pierced your ears as his palm pressed over the bottom half of your face, silencing any words you might speak, “It’s alright, daddy’s got you,” a shy cry vibrated against his hand as you felt him rock against you, finally noticing fully the unexpected sensation of his thick girth stretching you out, “just be a good girl and lay right there, let me have a little slice of heaven.”

Keeping your exhausted legs spread wide apart, his determined hips acting as a door stop, he moaned quietly, “fuck, it really did do the trick,” he looked down at your dazed form, awake enough to be present for him, but unknowingly sedated enough for you not to fight back, “almost a shame you won’t be able to remember any of this in the morning,” he slid his hand down to squeeze your throat, pinching your rapid pulse and making the world even more blurry, “look at you, fucking out like a perfect little doll. You wanna be doll, huh? My own personal little fucktoy?”

Fighting to keep your eyes open, your whole body rocked at his movements as he frantically picked up his pace, selfishly pounding into you, melting on top of you and pressing your sedated body further into the bed.

“You know, I barely needed to touch you a second before you soaked my fingers, you clearly want this as much as I do,” he tightened his grip on your throat, “you need this, you need me,” stifled moans flowed from his lips as he unmercifully pounded into you, scratching his own vile itch, “poor you, none of your boyfriends ever touch you properly. That’s just what you need, isn’t it?” he mocked as your fluttering cunt tried to squeeze him out, expelling him from your body, “you just need your tight little pussy to be stretched out? Just need some good dick? Don’t worry, angel,” you vaguely felt his tongue flicker against your slightly numbed skin, “as long as I am here to help, I’ll keep your pussy sore, keep it filled up,” you just managed to catch him growl before you lost the forlorn battle and your body dozed off again.

Waking up with a low groan, you quickly sprung up, feeling the contents of your stomach fighting their way out. With no time to entertain the surprising presents of Curtis already curled up at the foot of the mattress, you bolted out of bed and ran out the door, thankful for the close proximity to the bathroom as you soon found yourself kneeling in front of the toilet, regretting every sip you had indulged in as they burned your entire chest on their way out again.

Feeling as your loose hair suddenly got picked up and gently held back, you heard the warm rumble of Curtis’ voice as he said, “wow, okay, alright,” his large palm found your spine, soothingly caressing it as you hurled your guts out, “it’s alright, angel. Just get it all out.”

“Urgh,” you groaned, clutching the cold porcelain as you spat out the fowl tang, “I am never drinking again,” keeping your head over the bowl till you were sure you had gotten it all out. With a heavy sigh, you slumped back, colliding softly with the mass of your friend.

“You okay?” he asked, lightly running his hands over your goosebump-ridden form.

“I think so,” you blinked up into his steely eyes, the reddened look to them flying over your exhausted head, “at least I made it to the bathroom this time,” you tried to joke with a half-hearted smile.

Letting your body weakly droop down, sighing in relief as you felt the cold tile hug your form, you heard Curtis notice, “no, no, you can’t fall asleep out here,” feeling his fingers already slide beneath your body.

“But it’s so comfortable,” you let out a small winch as he scooped you up into his arms, your frame draping over his strong limbs, and a dull pain stung your core. “Hey, what date is it?” you suddenly asked, trying to make sense of the uncomfortable tingle.

“I-, uh, why?” he thought, carrying you back into Steve’s room, your eyes noticing the other doors down the dark hallway were all open wide, even though it was the middle of the night.

“No reason, I just think I might be getting my period or something…”

“Miss Y/l/n?” a voice called, though you were a million miles away, “Miss Y/l/n?”

“Huh?” you blinked, shaking your head slightly as you unsteadily glanced up at the figure, “sorry, yes,” you reluctantly let go of your friend’s hand and rose from the seat you had been waiting in.

“You’re gonna be fine,” Curtis gave your hand one last squeeze, “I’ll wait right here for when you’re done, okay?”

He and the other guys hadn’t let you out of their sight since the terrifying news had spread like wildfire yesterday morning and rocked the entire campus to its core.

“Okay,” you nodded weakly, not truly present as you followed the stranger inside.

Pulling out a chair at the cold table, you sat down and averted your gaze from the walls of the bare conference room provided by the school for the law enforcements to use for their investigation.

“The detective will be right in, you just sit tight,” the figure spoke before they closed the door behind them, leaving you alone in the makeshift interrogation room.

You didn’t know how long you were in there, maybe a minute, maybe ten, but soon you heard the door creak open once more and a voice, long forgotten, found your ears, “hello, I’m detective Levinson, I will be conducting this-”

“Ari?” you blinked up at your elder childhood friend in amazement, the nauseating feeling of grief momentarily washing away at his unexpected presence as he sat down opposite to you, “what are you doing here?” your eyes drifted over his informal suit, the jacket missing and the sleeves sloppily rolled up passed his burly forearms, “and when did you stop being a beat cop?”

“Uh,” he blinked, a solemn expression washing over his stern face, softening it significantly, “around a year ago,” he then sighed deeply and said, “I really hoped there had just been another Y/n Y/l/n here at this school…”

Effectively bringing you back down to earth, “oh, yeah… will this be a problem? Can you not do this if you already know me?”

“No, no, it’s not that. I just-,” his head tilted gently to the side, “this isn’t something I ever wanted you to go through.”

Sucking in a sharp breath, you nodded shyly, “yeah, well, I am.”

Looking over you a moment, taking in the small changes you had adapted in the years since you had last seen each other, he offered a genuine, “I’m sorry,” and attempted to catch your weary gaze.

“It’s not your fault,” you glanced down at your hands as your fingers once again began to dig nervously into your skin, leaving angry little half-crescent marks in its wake, “you’re not the one running around murdering students,” you awkwardly attempted to joke.

Exhaling lowly, he then opened the file in front of him and laid out a small tape recorder in the middle of the table, “are you ready to begin?”

“Yeah.”

Pressing on one of the side buttons on the recorder, Ari then announced methodically, “can you please state your name for the record?”

“Y/n Y/l/n.”

“And for the record, are you speaking to me voluntarily?”

“I am.”

Glancing over the open folder sprawled out in front of him, he asked, “what was your relationship with the victim?”

“Ransom, he-, um… he was a friend. I honestly didn’t really know him for too long, but he lived with some of my best friends, so it just seemed pretty natural for him to also become a part of our little group, if you’d call it that.”

“And you last saw Mr Drysdale when?”

“At the party Saturday night. I crashed at their flat after that, so it was probably early Sunday morning that I saw him last, when he was on his way to bed, I think.”

“Did anything happen to him that night? Anything unusual? His behaviour? Someone he interacted with? Anything you can think of that stands out?”

“Uhm,” you thought back, remembering the heated kiss you had shared in the bathroom, though looking back into Ari’s studying eyes, you couldn’t help but lie and say, “no, I don’t think so. It was just a party, you know,” the thought of telling your childhood crush that you drunkenly made out with a guy sent your stomach turning, crushing the truth before it could crawl out.

“Alright,” he nodded, “well, if you do remember anything, please reach out, we’re running the bulk of the investigation from here, so you know where I’ll be.”

“Still have your number,” you forced an awkward laugh.

“Right,” he sucked in a breath and averted his piercing gaze, “so, uhm, I don’t think I have anything else to ask you right now. Thank you for your cooperation with the investigation.”

“Of course,” you watched as his fingers wrap around the tape recorder, clicking the protruding button and making it stop, “it-, um,” you felt a shiver run down your spine as his eyes fell upon you once more, making the polite words seem that much harder to muster, “it really is good to see you again. Nice to see that you’re doing good,” then added jokingly, “that your mom still hasn’t talked you into cutting your hair,” a sincere smile tickled your lips at the mention of the warm woman living next door to your own parents.

Even though it was clearly forced, your words still conjured a genuine reaction from the guy who used to babysit you, “yeah, no, you know she’s never winning that battle,” he chuckled, shaking his head lightly, “it’s, uh, it’s great to see you as well. You-, um… yeah…” he dropped whatever compliment was on the tip of his tongue and averted his gaze, “I don’t wanna keep you any longer, you can go, you probably have classes to get to.”

“I actually don’t,” you informed him, though still slowly got up from your seat, “our professors have given us all some time off to-, uh, you know…”

“Yeah…” he nodded understandingly, his vision following your form as you made your way towards the door.

Pausing just before your fingertips grazed the doorknob, you looked back, timidly chewing on your bottom lip, “hey, Ari?”

“Yes?” he responded quickly, clearly still completely captivated.

Finding it difficult to even breathe properly in his presence, especially when those soulful eyes were locked upon yours, you found that your words crumbled before they even got to see the light of day, “I-, um…” then hastily scrambled your brain for a makeshift, “good luck.”

Breathing out a soft smile as he watched you nervously fiddle with the door handle, he said, “thanks, Y/n.”

It had been Monday morning that a garbage man had found Ransom’s body in a dumpster on the far side of campus. Even though they had tried to contain the news, it still spread like a wildfire, and come lunch that day, it was the only thing any student could talk about.

The frat quickly got sealed off as an active crime scene as it had been the last place witnesses had seen him alive, forcing the rest of the guys to temporarily bunk up with friends in their dorms. You felt a bit ashamed about the immense relief you felt at that small detail, the comfort of having each one of them fight over who got to stay with you being something you welcomed with open arms. In the end, it was both Curtis and Steve who stayed with you, Natasha giving you the room and staying with her newfound beau in the meantime, giving you the entire space for a while.

The guys had always been protective of you, but it almost seemed to have grown over the past few gloomy days. Not a second passed by where at least one of them wasn’t at your side, holding you as you cried, walking with you through the crowded campus or just keeping you company, making sure you weren’t alone. You just added it up to be their version of freaking out and buying into the whole conspiracy that it hadn’t been a drug deal gone wrong as so many had assumed of the recently deceased playboy with a penchant for illicit substances, but actually someone on campus, a stone-cold killer masking as just the person next to you in your lit class.

“Why don’t you go ask him?”

“Me?” your brows furrowed in Lloyd’s direction, “why me? If you wanna know so bad, why don’t you just go ask him yourself?”

Chiming in, Jake tilted his head, “well, you did say you know the guy.”

Exhaling lowly, you averted your gaze, your crossed arms tightening over your chest, “yeah, you could certainly say that…”

“So just go, bat your eyelashes at him for a bit and figure out how much he knows,” Lloyd tried to persuade you, though even his ever-present cocky charm couldn’t sway you this time.

Previously assuming that the whole conversation had just gone over Curtis’ head, as he had just quickly sat beside you and stared out the window, he suddenly perked up, “we just-…” he struggled to vocalise, “if it really is someone here on campus… just the thought you sitting in class with them or-, fuck, anything, it just-…” like a magnet, your fingers naturally found his own in a comforting squeeze, “angel, we just wanna keep you safe and the thought of someone like that running around terrorising the school-… just please go figure out if he has a suspect yet. See if he has got any leads.”

From the moment you had said goodbye to the familiar detective, shame about not telling him the whole truth had nearly eaten you alive. You had lied to not only a person you had known your whole life, but also a law enforcer. It was insufferable, like a snowball rolling down a hill and growing bigger and bigger with each accumulated snowflake.

“Fine,” you cracked, the shameful storm inside your body becoming too much to bear, “I’ll do it.”

“Knock, knock,” you said with a small smile as you pushed the ajar door open completely.

“Y/n,” Ari’s spine straightened in surprise, his eyes no longer glued to the computer screen before him, “what are you doing here?”

“Thought you might be hungry,” you held up your alibi for coming in the form of a takeout bag, “it’s from this little Indian place downtown,” you shut the door behind you before plopping the crinkly bag down on the table, the warm light from the desk lamp illuminating the brimming containers of curry stacked inside, “you like Indian, right?”

“I-, I do,” he said, still taken aback by the kind gesture, “thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Thought it was the least I could do as a thanks for what you’re doing,” you waved a hand in the direction of the cluttered corkboard on the wall.

“It’s just my job, you don’t need to thank me,” he said modestly, leaning back in his chair and lending you to spot the silver pen his fingers fiddled with.

Lowering your gaze to stare at your shoes, you exhaled, “right…”

“So, um,” he filled out the awkward silence, “was there anything else you needed?”

“Oh, sorry,” you mumbled, keeping your eyes averted, “you’re obviously super busy and here I am just barging in,” your vision finally flickered up to lock with his, already steadfast on you, “I just, uh…” your breaths became more jagged as his sky-like eyes captivated your own, “there was actually something else I wanted to talk to you about, something I wanted to tell you.”

“Alright…” he nodded, listening intently.

Blowing out a shaky breath, you revealed, “I lied, something did happen that night.”

“Okay,” his brows furrowed, though not as much as you had feared, “what was it?” your anxious brain haven already thought of a million different dramatic punishments he could penalise you with.

“I, uh…” you squeezed your eyes shut nervously, “I kissed him,” your pained voice rushed to force out, “at that party. It was in the bathroom and almost became something else, but, um yeah… we kissed… me and Ransom…” you peaked just one of your eyes open, your tense shoulders nearly pressing against your ears at this point, “I’m really sorry, I just felt like couldn’t tell you something like that, not you. I won’t be arrested for hiding this information, will I?”

“No, no,” Ari quickly rose from his seat, “Y/n, you’re okay,” he stepped closer to you as he attempted to calm your uncalled-for panic, “you won’t be arrested.”

“Oh,” you breathed, “good,” feeling your shoulders begin to drop back down again, “you know how my mind tends to freak out.”

“Yeah,” he nodded softly, “I do…” his words genuine as memories conjured the whisper of a smile to appear upon his lips, “thank you for telling me.”

Awkwardly, you flashed him a tight-lipped smile, grateful that uncomfortable moment had passed, you recalled the other reason for why you had come, “so…”

“So…” he echoed.

“Do you have any leads, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“That’s classified information, you know I can’t tell you that.”

“I know…” you averted your gaze and scrabbled your brain for what you could do or say to get him to tell you, “it’s just, I’m so scared all the time. The school was always a place that made me feel safe, till now…” although your intentions behind those words weren’t completely truthful, the statement wasn’t that far off, “it was just worth a try asking you.”

Holding your gaze, you could almost see his heartstrings get tugged as his brows quivered in compassion, “I-… I do have something. If you didn’t know, we just finished sweeping the victim’s living quarters, so if they haven’t already been notified, your friends should be able to move back in by tomorrow, but we also found something, not there, but in proximity to the dump site, there was a knife with traces of the victim’s blood on it. It’s in the lab right now as we speak, trying to decipher if there are any identifiable prints on it.”

“Oh my god…” you felt goosebumps sting at every inch of your skin.

“You haven’t heard any details about what state his body was found in, have you?”

“No…” both from avoiding the papers and keeping to your dorm, you might be the only student on campus not aware of how your late friend had died, “he was stabbed?”

“That was decisively what killed him, yeah, but he was brutally beaten before that.”

“Holy shit, that’s-…” you shuttered, your eyes just now noticing the nauseating photos pinned on the board beside you, “fuck… I don’t know how you do this all day, deal with these kinds of things.”

“It gets easier over time,” he shared, his worried eyes scanning your face a moment before apprehensively uttering, “this might be a really stupid question, but how are you holding up?”

“I-…” you toyed with the thought of lying to him yet again, but then opted to share the truth, “I am not doing so good, to be honest. I could probably count the number of hours I’ve slept in the last few days on one hand, or so I’ve been told. I don’t think it feels like I’ve slept at all, but apparently I have, just a little bit.”

Sucking in a pained breath, he murmured, “I’m sorry. I can help find someone you can talk to, if you want.”

“No, it’s alright,” his kind offer made it easier for you to look away from the horror plastered all over the office walls, “I mean, I’m not alone, that fact has become crystal clear throughout all of this.”

“Yeah, I kinda pieced that together,” he spoke in a much different manner than before, causing your brows to crinkle, “I conducted all the other interviews. It’s nice that you’ve made friends, making the most out of your college experience,” he said in a tone, almost reminiscent of jealousy.

Averting your eyes, memories you so desperately tried to keep at bay pried their way in and snuffed out the fuming flicker his resentment had ignited, “hey Ari?”

“Yeah?”

“Did you know?” you asked wearily.

“Know what?”

“Did you know all of those years, growing up together?” you lifted your vision once more as he offered you a questioning hum, “did you know that I was in love with you?”

Taken aback, it took a bit before he managed to answer, “no, I didn’t.”

“Why didn’t you ever call me? You just left.”

“I was getting married, Y/n. What was I supposed to do?”

“Not fuck the girl you used to babysit,” you shot back coldly, “what even was I to you?”

“I-… I don’t know,” his frustrated words came out breathy, “do you think I planned for any of that to have happened? To sleep with you of all people? I didn’t. But when I came home that summer and saw you again, saw who you had become, I don’t know, everything just changed, you changed. I fully thought that you’d to still be that same little annoying brat you used to be, but you really weren’t. I didn’t expect it to happen, I didn’t expect you to suddenly do something like that to me, have that kind of power over me!”

“So, you just decided to break my heart instead? I was mad for you, for as long as I could remember. That summer was the happiest I’d ever been and then you just up and left in the middle of the night without a word. Did you even think to imagine what it was like for me to run around that morning looking for you and instead finding an invitation for your wedding? I had to hear from your fucking parents that you had just come home to prepare things before the big day. You hadn’t even mentioned to me once that you were engaged, or even as much as just in a relationship. Was any of it even real to you or was I just your last bit of fun before you got tied down?”

“It was, Y/n,” he insisted sincerely, “it was the realest thing I’ve ever felt.”

“Then why did you go without as much as a goodbye? You know how much that broke me?”

“Yeah, well you seem to be doing just fine now,” he said pettily.

“Excuse me? You don’t get to say something like that to me. You were the one who broke my heart, you don’t get to judge how I glued it back together. Just go back home to your wife, why don’t you.”

Suddenly looking back at you in confusion, Ari then illuminated carefully, “Y/n, I’m not married.”

“What?” you blinked.

“I mean, I know you weren’t there that day, but I thought my mom at least had told you,” the gears turning inside of him were nearly visible to the naked eye, “I couldn’t go through with it.”

“What? Why?”

Biting his tongue as he held your eye, he then exhaled, “because I didn’t think I should get married if I was in love with someone else.”

Sucking in a stunned breath, you saw tears cloud your vision, “b-but… you never even called…”

“I know I didn’t,” he concurred heavily, his eyes unable to look away from your glossy ones. Feeling as if you might faint, you saw his woeful vision flicker down towards your lips, “I’m sorry, Y/n.”

But just as you saw him slowly inch his face closer and closer to yours, a sharp intake of air stung your lungs as you raised a hand up as a barricade, “I can’t…” too scared of history repeating itself, “we can’t…”

Sighing deeply, his eyes traced the tear that rolled down your cheek, “I know…”

You had just been helping the guys move back into the frat. That was all you had been doing. One moment you were all laughing, actually having a normal and pleasant moment for once, and the next, two officers were barging down the door and reading Lloyd his rights.

You’d nearly lost it completely and Curtis had to hold you back so that you didn’t go scratch one of the officer’s eyes out. The man in the cuffs however took it with style, only trying to break through your hazy to let you know that he would be fine and for the others to take care of you, after all, this wasn’t his first rodeo down to the station, although those times it had only been for petty crimes like bar room brawls and such.

“But I mean, how did it even happen?” you thought out loud a while later, the miranda rights still ringing in your ears like a triggering song you just couldn’t get out of your head, “that’s what my mind keeps going back to,” you had finally calmed down after what felt like forever of the guys talking out of marching down to the station to do something, anything to get Lloyd out. Completely powerless, you sat curled up at the end of the couch as words flowed from your exhausted lips, “how could someone like him be killed? He was such a nice guy.”

Not being able to stand it any longer, Curtis pipped up from the armchair on the other side of the living room, “no, he really wasn’t,” your bolstering words about the deceased being too much for him to take without cracking, “he was a rich creep and everyone knew it,” frustratingly, he gesticulated, “with everything that he did to you, how can you just sit there and say that he was a nice person? The guy drugged you and violated you in your sleep for fuck sake!”

The room went dead quiet as soon as those words left his lips.

“…what are you talking about?” your voice no higher than a whisper as you watched your burly friend shrink in regret. “Curtis,” you repeated more sternly this time as he didn’t offer an explanation, “what do you mean? What did you do?” your voice broke as thoughts about if Lloyd’s arrest hadn’t been a misunderstanding after all entered your mind.

“You can’t tell her,” Frank shot a glare at the fighter, “we had a deal.”

“Yeah, well that was before Lloyd got fucking arrested!” Jake chimed in, panic shining clear through in his tone, “she’s a part of this, has been since the very beginning. She has a right to know.”

Finding your wide eyes in the crowd, Curtis asked you wearily, “you really wanna know what happened that night?” hugging your knees tighter to your chest, you gave him a small nod in confirmation, “fine, I’ll tell you.”

…

“Is she okay?” Curtis pushed the ajar door open further to ask, haven, on his way to the bathroom, caught sight of an out of breath Ransom tugging the covers back over your passed out form.

The head of the cashmere-clad man snapped up at the sign of company, the sudden alarm that began to bloom on his features was quickly drowned out by his usual arrogant air, “yeah, man,” he shot back defensively, rushing to get out of the room, “she’s fine,” sounding like it had been a completely crazy question to ask.

Furrowed brow staying put, Curtis uttered slowly, “alright, but I think I’m just gonna check myself, if you don’t mind.”

“I said she’s fine!” Ransom slammed the door shut behind him, prohibiting the man now only inches from him from entering, “just go back to your own room!”

Worry and suspicion only growing at the obvious fibs, Curtis demanded, “what were you doing in there? What did you do?”

“What are you talking about?” he scoffed back.

“What did you do to her?” Curtis took a looming step closer just as their raised voices began to stir some of the other slumbering residents.

“I didn’t do a thing,” he cockily dared a chuckle, “calm down.”

“I will not fucking calm down,” Curtis barked back before attempting to call to you through the closed door, “angel, you okay?”

Leaning against the wall beside his own room, Jake rubbed the sleep out of his eyes as he groaned, “guys, can you not yell in the middle of the night? Some of us are kinda trying to sleep here.”

Frank, as well haven appeared, seemed a little more alert at the sudden commotion in the hallway, “hey, what’s going on?”

“Nothing’s going on,” their suspicious friend waved a hand, “Curtis is just being a little bitch and freaking out for no reason,” the ostentatious gesture granted the opposing man an opportunity to slip past and enter the room.

Nearly kicking the door down, Curtis rushed to your side, examining your unconscious form with worried eyes, “angel?” the dim lights streaming in from the hallway just barely letting him notice how wrinkled and haphazard the t-shirt he’d lent you just a few hours before was on you.

“Jesus, just let her sleep, dude.”

Ignoring Ransom’s words of warning, Curtis tried once more, “Y/n?” touching your skin lightly before giving you a gentle shake, “come on, wake up for me, baby,” his heart nearly beat out of his chest as he unsuccessfully tried to stir you, the shallow rise and fall of your abdomen not granting him as much comfort as it should have.

Nearing the end of the hall, Frank asked once more, “what’s going on?” side-eyeing Ransom warily, “is she okay?”

“Of course she’s okay,” the trust fund kid scoffed.

“The fuck she is,” Curtis’ head whipped back in the direction of Ransom’s silhouette in the doorway. Getting back up on his feet, his sharp intakes of air causing his shoulders to rise, he stormed back out and demanded, “what did you do? Why were you in here and why the fuck is she not waking up?”

“Did you not see how much she had to drink tonight?” Ransom defensively gestured to your passed-out form on the narrow bed, “I was just checking up on her,” and with a heavy sigh abandoned the argument entirely and descended the stairs.

Catching Curtis’ arm just in time to stop him from storming down after the man at the centre of the quarrel, Frank tried to catch the darting eyes of his friend as he asked firmly, “Curtis, what’s going on?”

“I saw him in there, hovering above her like a creep.”

Already worried eyes suddenly growing in alarm, “he was in there?” Frank quickly shared a panicked look with Jake, both now sharing the same inkling of what horrible thing had occurred, “alone with her?”

“Yes.”

“Wait,” Frank gasped, “did you say she’s not waking up? She is still breathing though, isn’t she?”

“Yeah, she’s just out cold. Why?”

“Oh my god…” Jake shuttered, his interrupted slumber now long forgotten.

“What? What is it? What aren’t you guys telling me?”

Exhaling lowly, Frank carefully began to explain, “Curtis, you know that my sister goes to Bayshore, right?”

“Um, sure, yeah?” unsure as to why that fact was significant.

“Well, she told me about this student who overdosed after being drugged and raped. The guy was apparently caught and everything but just came from a wealthy enough family to not only never be convicted, but also keep the news out of the papers. Curtis, that’s where Ransom transferred from.”

Seeing nothing but red, Curtis stormed down the stairs. On his determined path to the kitchen where the object for his bubbling rage now stood, leisurely sipping from a glass of water. Curtis narrowly caught sight of Lloyd as he finally stumbled through the entrance from his drawn-out merriment, uttering a hushed apology to the bulky frame of Steve on the couch for the way he had carelessly slammed the front door shut behind him.

Only rolling his eyes at the sight of Curtis, Ransom didn’t even lower his glass as the fuming figure neared, “dude, I already told you, I didn’t do a thing-” though the rest of his provoking words got squashed as Curtis’ fist suddenly collided with his jaw, swiftly grabbing onto his soft sweater before he could crumble like the shattered glass now scattered across the cool tile, “what the fuck!” water splashing onto both of their feet.

“What did you give her?” Curtis barked, his fingers digging into the intricate, stained knit so hard that they threatened to poke through to the other side.

“Give who what?” appalled glare piercing as he fought against the hold.

“Y/n!” he shook him heatedly, “what did you give her?”

“I didn’t give her shit, man,” Ransom just managed to spit out before white knuckles collided with his face once more.

“Did you touch her? Because I swear to fuck, if you laid even as much as one finger on her, I’m gonna-”

“Oh, I see,” he actually dared to chuckle, a bit of crimson already staining the pearly whites he flashed, “you’re jealous that you didn’t get with her tonight.”

Landing another raging blow, Curtis yanked him in close and growled, “you shut up and answer my question! Did you touch her?”

Scoffing through his laboured groans of agony, Ransom finally disclosed smugly, “of course, I did, man. She’s been all over me all night long, begging for me to give it to her good.”

The rest of the frat haven now clustered in the kitchen as well, staying in the periphery, Frank accused, “what did you give her? Was it the same as the girl you killed back at Bayshore?”

The deep-pocketed man’s eyes flickered over Curtis’ shoulder, bruises blooming and swelling up his vision, “excuse me?”

“The rape victim that overdosed at your old school?” the bridge of Frank’s nose twitched in fury, “it was you that killed her, wasn’t it?”

“I didn’t do anything of the sort, all I did was show those girls a good time, it’s not my fault some can’t keep up.”

“Is that what you think happened tonight?” Curtis hauled him against the fridge, gaining the man’s attention once more, “you call assaulting Y/n a good fucking time?”

Keeping his head held high, Ransom slurred, “what are you ashamed you’re not man enough to rough your girl up a bit and give her what she really likes?”

Huffing like a bull, he uttered, “she does not like it like that.”

“Oh yeah? Then tell me why I had her moaning the way I did, dripping down on ol’ Steve’s bed like a cheap whore. Kind of a shame that she won’t remember any of it in the morning, just hope I fucked her good enough that at least some part of her won’t forget…”

…

“Oh my god…” you shuttered, unable to look any of them in the eye, “oh my god,” your palm shot up to clasp over your lips to choke the shaky cry that forced its way out, “I thought-…” vision darting everywhere and nowhere at the same time, “I thought it had been a dream,” tears streamed down your ghostly face as the hazy nightmare suddenly came into focus, “oh my god! I-… I knew him,” you jaggedly tried to piece it all together as vile stung in the back of your throat, “he was-, he was my friend. I hadn’t known him that long, but he was my friend. I-… he wasn’t just some dangerous stranger in the back of an ally threatening to kill me, he was my friend.”

…

The incoherent screams of Curtis slowly subsisted as his rampant blows finally slowed down. Slowly backing up, chest heaving, horror took over his eyes as he saw how far he had been pushed, watching as blood bubbled out of Ransom’s mouth, guggling his words.

“Just you fucking wait till my family finds out,” he weakly continued his threats from his wrecked position on the tiled floor, “do you have any idea how much power money gives you? I can squash you all like little bugs, ruin any chance you might have of a pathetic future and keep angel all to myself.”

Unable to look away, Steve suddenly uttered as Curtis shakily retreated into the shadows, “…guys, we have to call an ambulance.”

Whipping his head around, Jake protested, “no, don’t!” ready to swat away any phone that might be raised, “he’s right. He has the upper hand no matter if we get him to a hospital or not.”

“So, what do we do? Look at him,” Steve woefully gestured to the beaten playboy crumbled on the floor, “he’s dying. We can’t just leave him here!”

“No…” Lloyd sighed, his demeanour seeming surprisingly calm and level-headed under the circumstance, “but we can use what little time we have left before the sun comes up to our advantage…”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Frank’s brows furrowed frightfully.

In a wide arc around Ransom’s broken form, Lloyd made his way over to one of the kitchen counters and pulled open a drawer, “he said it himself,” he exhaled lowly as he accepted his fate, “he is more than capable of making not only angel’s life hell, but also all of ours,” his tone cold, he riffled through the utensils, “from where I’m standing, there’s only one way for us to get out of this with minimal casualties,” and fished out a knife, the steel reflecting in the low light seeping in through the other room.

“You can’t be fucking serious,” Steve gasped, “we’re not murdering him!”

“So you’d rather try and explain his corpse just lying here in our kitchen? This way we get the upper hand, we speed up the process and use the remainder of the night to our advantage till the rest of campus wakes up, hide him somewhere else, somewhere he won’t be found,” Lloyd stressed, “we have to kill him, it’s the only way.”

“Shit dude…” Frank breathed, he and the rest realizing that he was right, “where would we even hide him?”

After only pondering it a second, Jake pipped up, “it’s trash day tomorrow,” tensely sharing glances with the rest, “if we get him to one of the big dumpsters on the other side of campus, drop him in there, no one will know! And even if they do eventually discover parts of him out on some dump, they won’t be able to get anything off of him anyways at that point.”

“I-…” Curtis’ shaky voice finally filled the room, guilt seeping through in his brassy timbre as he asked what no one else would, “…who’s gonna do it?”

Not letting the others even consider that weight, Lloyd swiftly declared, “I’ll do it.”

“What?” the trembling fighter’s eyes finally lifted.

“If they actually do somehow manage to nail us for this, it should be me that goes down for it,” he stated deliberately, “always knew I’d go to prison at some point just like my old man, this way it wouldn’t be for anything stupid.”

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ramp-it-up · 1 year

Text

All These Things and More

Paring: Ransom Drysdale x Reader (Minx)

Part of the Minx Series

Word Count: 2.8 K

Summary: Ransom is a dad now, but you’re neglecting Daddy

Warnings: 18+ As always, MINORS DNI, SMUT, RPF. Not Beta’d. All mistakes my own. Cute little baby vibes, Ransom as a soft dad, Minx as a good mom, a little bit of angst, going overboard for the holidays, pining. Lactation kink, breast play, oral sex (m receiving), degradation kink, allusion to fingering, female receiving oral, creampie, edging, overstimulation, and anal.

A/N: This is for #DJ’sAllIWant4KChristmas and based on this ask. This is a companion piece to Coercion and Marshmallow World.

I no longer operate a taglist. Follow @rampitupandread to be notified when I post.

I Do NOT consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

Ransom rolled over into a pile of pink cuteness.

You were dead asleep in your custom pink chiffon nursing nightgown, and his daughter, dressed in a flowery pink footed sleeper, had wiggled out of your arms and was sitting up, staring at him with the biggest, prettiest eyes he’d ever seen.

Ransom frowned when he realized that you must have gotten up to get her from the nursery in the middle of the night instead of waking him. He’d told you about getting your rest. But Golden was going through a growth spurt and had taken to waking up in the middle of the night after a few months of sleeping through.

Ransom’s frown melted as his daughter smiled and laughed at him, waving cutely. Another woman had his heart now and her puff of blonde curly hair and light brown skin made her the most beautiful baby in the world, he thought.

Especially since he thought she looked just like you.

“Hey Goldennnn.”

He reached out for her and drew her onto his chest.

“How’s Daddy’s little girl this mornin’?’”

Ransom whispered his Boston drawl to his daughter, careful not to wake you up. It was only 5:30 AM.

“Bbbbbbbbbbbbb… DaDaDaDaDa.”

Even though she was blowing bubbles and climbing on his face, Ransom’s heart beat out of his chest at his daughter’s address.

“That’s right. Dada!”

Ransom whispered excitedly. He smiled at her and decided she needed some new diamond earrings, the ones in her ears were too small. As he lifted her, he also decided that she needed to be changed.

Ransom looked over to you to make sure you were still sleeping, then, he eased out of the bed and managed to get her down the hall to her nursery to change her diaper and sit down in the rocker after warming a bottle of breastmilk that you kept in the mini fridge in her room.

Ransom was the only one who could get her to take a bottle, otherwise, you breastfed her exclusively, with a few baby foods, even at 8 months old.

Golden got sleepy right away after taking most of the warm bottle, and Ransom cleaned her lips with the burp cloth and gazed at her sleeping face for a while, before putting her on his chest and daydreaming of your wedding the previous year.

You got the big June wedding of your dreams, despite Ransom wanting to elope. And it was outside, which really sucked because his fucking allergies made Ransom tear up just as you were walking down the aisle.

Your insipid little friends were always talking about how star studded the wedding was, but all Ransom remembered was you in your stunning dress and the adventure of making love to his wife that night.

You had him sex starved after depriving him for a month, and let’s just say that he’d had to pay off some of the hotel staff. You probably got pregnant that night, as much cum as there was everywhere.

Ransom was awakened by a flash going off because you were snapping pictures.

“Sorry Ran.”

You whispered and grinned at your man. He was such a good father. And you knew he loved you, he even told you so when he felt especially secure. Usually after you let him do everything that he (and you) wanted in bed.

Ransom rubbed his eyes and stood up to gently put Golden in her crib. He watched her for a minute and then walked over to you.

“I told you about that, Minx.”

“But you look so cute when you’re being Golden’s dad. Makes me want you more, Daddy.”

You pouted up at him and his heart melted. He loved him some you, especially since you’d become his wife and mother to his child. But he tried to look tough, which only seemed to make you light up more.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, Minx.”

Ransom bent down and hauled you up over his shoulder, giving your ass a slap as you giggled your way down the hall.

“I swear, If you wake her up….”

He deposited you on the bed as you let down the straps of your nightgown.

“I appreciate you feeding her, but what am I gonna do with all this milk now? I’m so uncomfortable. Need some relief Ran, baby…”

You looked up at him with those huge doe eyes and those huge, full tits, and his dick got hard.

Ransom always loved your tits, but they were huge with weight right now and pointing right at him.

He was super excited to help out, but he rolled his eyes to feign disinterest.

“Shit. I have to do everything around here. Have to be the Nanny, have to be the breast pump.”

You started to cover up, knowing this game too well.

“Sorry, Ran.”

Ransom saw your pout, sighed and climbed into bed with you, reaching for you and pulling you near.

“Come over here, Minx.”

The look on Ransom’s face betrayed his need as he reached for you. You smiled at him, ready to enjoy a morning in his arms. Your eyes rolled back into your head as he started to relieve you with those lips of his, and his hands, oh his hands, they relieved you in other ways.

After Ransom put you to sleep and had a quick shower, Golden woke up and Ransom hurried into her room.

A father’s work was never done.

That was the week before Thanksgiving, over a month ago, and it was the last time he felt you had time for him. Your first Christmas together as a married couple, you were six months pregnant, and the Holidays were spent with Ransom cussing out his family and friends who accused you of trying to trap him with a baby.

“Fucking idiot, can you fucking count?” Was his favorite refrain.

Ransom didn’t tell them that you didn’t trap them with this baby, you’d blackmailed him into a relationship using a recording of him blackmailing you with revenge porn months before the wedding.

You two also spent the Holidays eating and lazily fucking every night, morning, and any other time you got your greedy little hands on his dick. He was in heaven, the center of your little newlywed world.

This holiday season had been both the best, and the worst, for Ransom. It was going to be Golden’s first Christmas, and, as a true Thrombey woman (you included) she was fascinated with shiny things.

His little girl had his eyes and your smile and brown skin, causing everyone to stop and stare who saw her. An added bonus was that when she was born, his parents stopped being such assholes, because Golden had everyone wrapped around her teeny tiny little finger.

This Christmas, you were a woman possessed. Well, more than usual.

The second Thanksgiving was over, because Ransom would not permit it before then, you went into full Golden’s First Christmas mode.

Friday morning, Ransom rolled over and both you and Golden were gone. The bed was empty, and cold.

Nanny number one, Lina, had Golden and was bottle feeding her in her room. Ransom was livid.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

Ransom made the poor woman jump, but she managed a smile anyway.

“Oh, Mr. Hugh. Mrs. Drysdale said that you would be thrilled that someone else could feed the baby. Surprise.”

Ransom was boiling mad on the inside.

“It’s Ransom. Mr. Drysdale to you, Lina,” Ransom spat as he watched his baby girl giggle in Lina’s arms.

She pulled off the bottle to say, “Dadadadada,” as if admonishing him. He leaned over, rubbed her hair and kissed her forehead, noting her sleepy eyes.

“Make sure that you burp her before you put her down.”

Ransom put on his robe and slippers over his silk pajamas and padded downstairs, expecting to find you there. What he did find was the chef, Angie, in the kitchen and a note from you.

You had gone shopping with Linda, of all people. Ransom was left alone. So he moped around the house in between playing with Golden all day until you got home, loaded down with tons of Christmas decorations.

He was surly at the dinner table while you rattled off your holiday plans, but you didn’t notice, or didn’t care, and by the time Ransom was ready for you to make it up to him, he found you and Golden knocked out in the bed.

It was this way for a month. Shopping, deliveries and installation of lights, trees, decorations, parties and playdates, everything that you thought Golden would love. But no nookie for Daddy. And you even had the nerve to begin to wean Golden, which meant your milk supply was getting low.

Ransom was someone even the Grinch would think would need to lighten up.

And the presents.

The entire first level was filled with presents for Golden. Ransom bought out FAO Schwarz for her. And the diamond district in New York was well compensated for dealing with Ransom on his search for the most flawless matching Mommy/Daughter diamonds.

But for some inexplicable reason, he missed you.

You were with him every night, next to him in bed, but he didn’t have your attention. It was bad enough that you spent so much time on the baby, but that was only right. You were his soul mate. Even though he’d loved you madly, when you became mother to his child, it seems he loved you more.

But now, you were obsessed with being Mrs. Claus, not Mrs. Drysdale. And that pissed Ransom off. Big time.

Ransom was still a grumpy bug when the families gathered on Christmas Eve for dinner and stayed over on Christmas morning to watch Golden “open” her presents.

He wasn’t telling people to eat shit, but you knew he was unsettled. But you didn’t know that he had a plan.

On Christmas night, after Golden was in bed, Ransom switched off the Christmas carols that had been piped throughout the house.

You went up to him, full of mirth and quipped, “My house, my rules, the Christmas music stays on.”

Ransom rolled his eyes and didn’t laugh, clearly done with being in the Christmas spirit.

“What’s wrong, Ran?”

“Nothing. Just got to get away from this nonsense. I’m leaving.”

Panic filled you. You thought he finally had enough.

“But Ransom, why? Will you leave me and Golden?”

“Oh shut up Minx, I’d never leave Golden. And you’re coming with me. Pack a bag.”

You were filled with relief, but you wouldn’t be you if you didn’t push back.

“Where are we going, Ransom? I can’t just…”

“You can, and you will. Golden had a great Christmas. She hardly knew what was going on, but she loved it. Now it’s my turn.”

You loved it when Ransom pouted and was needy, but you tried to reason with him.

“How long will we be gone Ran….?”

“Am I your husband?”

Ransom yelled at you. For the first time since Golden was born.

You were shook; Ransom was really emotional.

“Of course, but…”

“But nothing. Your mother is here, she’d be thrilled to fight Linda for the privilege to watch Golden. And you’ve almost weaned her. It’s perfect. You need to spend some time attending to your wifely duties. Which means you pay attention to me.”

Ransom wasn’t yelling anymore, but he was still adamant.

You fought the urge to laugh at Ransom because he had a point. You’d virtually ignored him. You decided to go with the flow.

“Well, what do I need to pack? Is it cold wherever we’re going?”

“I’m sure it is. Just pack enough for a day or two. We’ll go shopping when we get there, that is if you’re not too much of a cockslut and can have me not filling all your holes for a couple of hours…”

You shivered at the delicious promise. And you were ready to go right now. You reached for his pants. Ransom pushed you away.

“Save it, we’ve got to leave in an hour. Be ready.”

Ransom walked into his closet and left you reeling.

You met Ransom in the car in 56 minutes, only packing three Hermes bags to take along. You were shifting in your seat, wet already, wondering what adventures awaited you ahead.

Ransom spared you a cursory glance, but was silent most of the way.

“Stop squirming, it’s annoying,” was the only thing he said to you.

But you looked down and noticed that he was tapping his finger on his thigh. And that his pants were very tight around his crotch area. It was then that you realized that you missed him as much as he missed you.

“Sorry Ran, It’s just that I don’t have any panties on, and this sweater dress feels kinda good…”

You crossed and uncrossed your legs, capturing Ransom’s eyes which went from the supple leather of your brown boots, up the hem of your dress that matched the sweater that he had on. You could see him gulp and lick his lips. He shifted and then replied.

“I don’t give a fuck, calm your ass down and stop moving.”

“Yes, Ran.”

The look that you gave him, coupled with the faux show of submission had him almost feral. He leaned forward and banged on the partition.

“Speed it up, asshole!”

You smirked in your seat as Ransom tried to spur the driver on.

“You seem tense, Ran. Anything I can do to help.”

You put your hand on his knee.

“You should do something, since you got me all wound up. Didn’t want to jack off and spill my seed down the shower. Since we got married, you said it would only be used to fill you up.”

You rubbed his thigh.

“I’m sorry, Ransom. Can.. can you let me swallow it down my throat?”

Ransom didn’t respond, although you were squeezing his dick through his pants. You took that as a yes and got down between his legs, unzipping him and bring out his large dick.

Ransom looked down on you and placed one hand on your head and the other found your nipple through the dress. You weren’t wearing a bra either.

You spit on his dick and started pumping him, licking your lips as he stared you down.

“No underwear at all. Just live to get fucked. You’re my little whore, aren’t you? You still love to be a freak. Suck my dick, Minx. Not too sloppy now.”

Ransom leaned back and thrust his bobbing and weaving dick up at you as your pussy wept and your mouth watered.

“Yes, Daddy.��

You nodded and opened your mouth, deep throating him, red lipstick leaving marks on his throbbing member as you slowly pulled off.

“Fuck, Minx.”

You bobbed on his cock, choking and coughing and spluttering, while managing to keep everything neat and playing with his balls.

“So, so, so, good with that hot little slut mouth, Minx. Fuck! Take it all.”

You loudly gulped as he came, causing him to pulse extra spend down your throat.

“Thank you for the fluff, Daddy.”

Ransom just grunted and zipped up as the car pulled down the road to the airstrip where the Thrombey Gulfstream was parked.

You turned to him with glee, clapping your hands.

“A flight? Where are we going?”

“Paris. Now get your ass on that plane.”

“Yay! Thank you Daddy.”

You kissed his cheek and got out of the car when the driver opened the door, ready to fly, while Ransom watched you with a warm feeling and rubbing his cheek. Damn, he was whipped.

After you boarded the plan, and toasted with champagne, Ransom told you of the plan to stay in that one hotel you loved from your honeymoon. The one with the view of the Eiffel Tower and the excellent room service.

“That’s great Ran. Because you’re right, you’re not gonna want to leave this pussy alone.”

Ransom’s eyes changed as you go up to enter the private bedroom on the plane. When he joined you in the room that was filled with a king sized bed, he found you sitting on the edge of the bed, leaned back, legs open.

Ransom pushed a few buttons on the keypad by the door to the bedroom cabin, and up popped a view of you sitting on the bed, displayed on the television above the door. Your eyes watched the monitor as Ransom stood before you and pushed you back down on the bed.

Ransom took your boots off, then pushed the dress up your body with his huge, warm hands, skimming your thighs up to your breasts. He pulled the garment off of you, then grabbed your hair for a searing kiss while he roughly groped and pinched your nipple.

You moaned at the delicious pain and at his passion, trying to tear his clothes off faster than he could disrobe as he went back down your body.

“Gonna make you cum until you beg me to stop, and then I’m gonna fuck this weeping cunt, filling you to the brim with my cum, Minx. Then I’m gonna take that ass. And if we have time on this seven hour flight, we’ll do it all over again.”

“Yes, Ransom.”

You pulled his hair as you watched him eat you out in high definition on the monitor, then flicked your eyes over to the camera to make sure the red light was on.

“All these things and more…”

You know what I’m gonna say…reblog? Please!

Read the next part: You Up?

#ask dj #dj answers #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale x black!reader #ransom drysdale x female reader #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drydale x you #ransom drysdale smut #chris evans #chris evans smut #ransom drysdale imagine #chris evans imagine #Ransom and Minx #dj’salliwant4kchristmas22

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dungeonpuppykai · 9 months

Note

for the 5 daddies, i have this hc that whenever bunnys like upset or scared or anything she for sure seeks out Andy for comfort bc he's more scary but like he def makes her feel the safest and she 100% loves a firm hand

Sorry for being so late but--

Warning(s): Slightly upset reader, mentions of bondage, mentions of rough sex, dom-sub dynamics, thunder, fluff, power imbalance, one spank.

Since Lloyd is the darkest Daddy who wants to see how far he can push and bend Bunny it's playtimes with him that usually end her up in this state.

Of course he always gives the best aftercare he can but his top secret much demanding work allows him a very limited and calculated amount of free time.

So sometimes Bunny, as sensitive as she is, needs a little more.

Like tonight.

Her eyes are teary as the thunder rumbles outside the big glass window that is on the wall next to the big dark door of Andy's room.

Bunny's hand hovers over the wooden structure as she contemplates whether to knock or leave him alone because he already works so hard all day long.

It wasn't even his aftercare to give.

But it's like Andy has a way of sensing her discomfort.

He always seeks her out whenever she's upset.

Maybe because of how quiet and observant he is.

Before she can retreat her hand even though he's told her time and time again that it doesn't bother him, the door unlocks.

Her eyes widen as she looks left and right to hide because she doesn't wanna look like a creep!

Bunny's eyes narrow down on the decorative lamp table placed on the opposite side of the window that is on the other side of his door.

Her naked feet hurriedly pat against the wooden floorboards as she rushes away and hides behind it.

Andy walks out of the room and down the hall with his eyes set on his phone.

Bunny sighs to herself as her body relaxes, eyes fluttering close as she wills her hammering heart to slow down.

A few moments pass like that as she just watches the way he left and contemplates what to do next.

Andy made her feel the safest but he was still his intimidating strict self and naturally it made her very shy towards him.

"Hide and seek?" Bunny gasped and jumped when his voice rumbled in her ear from behind.

"Daddy!" The girl defensively backs away from Andy's huge form as he smiles at her kneeling form on the ground. Like a rabbit ready to hop away. "Y- You!" She whips her head back to the way he left, momentarily forgetting that there was another way to get around the side of the hallway she was in.

"Me…" The male is amused, both hands stuffed in his pockets.

Bunny is still blinking at him and overcoming her shock when thunder strikes again and her whole body jumps, the tears that had been pooling in her eyes finally spilling.

His smile fades away and concern replaces the amused expression.

"Here" he holds out one hand for her to take and the younger literally jumps at it.

"You should have just entered, no questions asked." Rules were for when she wasn't on the point of sobbing.

Her tiny hiccups had been audible from down the hall.

Bunny's peeks up at him through her wet lashes, bottom lip wobbling.

"I- I am sowwy, Daddy…" He knows how hesitant and guilty she feels whenever she seeks him out because of another Daddy so he doesn't antagonize her too much.

Instead, Andy envelops Bunny in his huge arms and kisses her forehead before taking her inside his room.

He makes her drink water as he leans against the headboard with her curled in his lap, caressing her back and scratching her scalp comfortingly to help her calm down.

Andy softly reprimands her for walking around barefooted in this weather.

Bunny whimpers and rubs her face in his warm chest.

He holds her like that until she fully calms down and all her tense muscles loosen up in his arms, kissing her head and assuring her that it was all okay whenever thunder would strike.

Andy doesn't really carry her around like Jake, Ransom and Ari do but tonight is different.

These moments always are.

He knows he's walking on eggshells so he's extra careful with her.

So he makes Bunny wrap her legs around his waist as he holds her up and against his chest like the spoiled baby bunny that she is.

"What do you want?" As he carries her to the kitchen.

"Ishe keam~" her very eager answer has him frowning.

Yes, she lisps in her soft space sometimes.

And it drives Lloyd and Jensen absolutely insane.

With Ransom it depends on how dark he's feeling.

Ari just adores her no matter what she does.

But it's rare with Andy because of the strict discipline Dom that he is.

"In this weather?" He doesn't need to add more to express his disapproval.

It's her turn to frown now.

"But my mouth!"

Lloyd had been rough with the face fucking.

"Your feet feel as if they're tiny little ice cubes." He replies as he grabs a pair of warm socks from her purple dresser in her Princess Bunny room.

"Daddy can't say no!" Bunny huffs before pouting, thinking it would work like it does with Ransom, Jensen and sometimes Ari.

"Bunny." Usually, Andy doesn't even warn but he does tonight because of her state.

"Bunny is ouchie!" Her eyebrows furrow as she raises her voice an octave. "Daddy can't say no!"

He silently snorts to himself before looking down at her with a very familiar look, faintly raising an eyebrow.

"But sir can."

The tone and slight stiffness in his grip on her slightly sore ass -courtesy of Daddy Ransom- has her piping down almost instantly.

Andy is content in the peaceful silence as he expertly holds Bunny against him with one hand while the other starts up on the coffee machine for him and a warm cup of hot coco for her.

Bunny whimpers with the thunder every now and then, hiding her flush face in the crook of his neck.

She's whiny and clingy when he wants to put her on the counter so he can put her little socks on her icy feet.

But she refuses to let go, pouting and tightening herself around him.

It goes on for a bit before Andy firmly peels her off and places her on the counter, giving her a sharp look.

Bunny is whimpering again with her eyes lowered when he makes her wear the socks herself since whiny brats don't deserve Daddies that help them out with simple tasks that they're too dumb to do.

But a loud spank delivers on her unsuspecting ass when Andy turns from the coffee machine to check on the stove and finds out that Bunny has crawled dangerously close to the bubbling hot coco pot, bending over it as she blows and giggles at the brown liquid.

It ends with her getting corner time until he gets done with their drinks.

Andy makes her carry the drinks to his room so she stays reminded of her place.

Yes, he loves to comfort her and would do anything to make her feel safe and protected.

But that doesn't mean he will put up with a mouthy pouty brat.

It is only after Bunny apologises once they're in the room that he allows her back in his arms, putting on a show they enjoy together.

One of his hands is constantly caressing her back so she continues to remain relaxed.

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nicoline1998enilocin · 4 months

Text

Fluffcember Day 14 | Popping your cherry

Pairing | Roommate!Experienced!Ransom Drysdale x Roommate!Virgin!Fem!Reader

Word count | 1.9K

Summary | You're just coming home from the worst date, but it's good that your roommate, Ransom, is there to cheer you up. After a long talk with him, you confess you've only been looking for someone willing to take your virginity, and that's when Ransom steps in and is more than happy to help you do just that.

Rating | Mature (M)

Warning(s) | Use of a pet name (Sweets), soft!Ransom, Reader's age is mentioned once.

Angst | Light angst, Reader went on a bad date.

Smut | Taking virginity, fingering, protected sex, lots of praise.

A/n | This one-shot is written for day 14 of my Fluffcember 2023 Challenge. I always have a blast when writing for Ransom, so I can't wait to see what you all think of this! Thank you to @ccbsrmsf1 for proofreading this one 🎄

Events Masterlist | Roommate AU | @buckys-wintersoldier Masterlist | Date gone wrong | @anyfandomkinkbingo

Banners: @vase-of-lilies | Divider: @firefly-graphics | GIF credit: The owner

Main Masterlist | Ransom Drysdale Masterlist | Read on AO3

Honestly, you're not entirely sure where you went wrong during your date because you were having fun. More than him, apparently.

Because when you offered to go to one of your places, he made a weak excuse about his cat or something and stormed off.

So now, here you are, in a taxi back to your apartment, still frustrated that seemingly no one wants to help you with your problem.

You're about to finish college, and you're still a virgin. Of course, there's nothing wrong with that in and of itself, but you feel like you've been missing out on a fantastic experience based on how everyone around you always talks about it.

What you should have seen, however, is that the one person closest to you is more than willing to help you out if you ask. Your roommate, Ransom, has been there each time to pick you up after your dates have gone wrong, and it's killing him.

''Hi Sweets, how was it?'' Ransom asks as you walk in the door, but you're too ashamed to tell him how it went. Again.

Instead of answering Ransom, you storm off to your bedroom, slamming the door behind you before slipping off the sad excuse you call a dress and putting on some sweats and one of Ransom's sweaters.

When your hair is in a messy ponytail, and your make-up is off, you let yourself fall onto the bed with a loud sigh, and as if he could sense it, Ransom knocks on your door.

''Can I come in? I brought your favorite tea,'' Ransom says, his voice soft and gentle, which warms you from the inside. Despite that, you want to curl up into a ball, never to be seen by anyone ever again.

''Go away!'' you say, and keeping yourself from breaking down is challenging. Tears are fighting their way out, and you manage to slap your hand over your mouth to stifle the worst of the sob.

''Alright, I'm coming in,'' he says, swinging the door open, quickly walking over to your bed and putting the cup of tea and a small bowl of your favorite chocolates onto your nightstand.

''Hey, what's going on? C'mere,'' he says as he sits on your bed and pulls you into his lap. He's seated with his back against the headboard and his legs stretched out in front of himself.

His left hand is resting on the side of your head as you cry with long sobs against his chest, his right hand rubbing soft circles on your waist and hip to calm you down a little bit.

''It's okay, Sweets, I'm here with you. You're okay,'' he whispers in your hair as he keeps placing soft kisses in your hair to reinforce his words, effectively calming you down.

After nearly 30 minutes, you've finally calmed down enough, and you wipe your cheeks with the back of your hands, sniffling a few times before removing your head from his chest and looking at him.

''Hi beautiful girl,'' Ransom says with a soft smile and a twinkle in his eyes. Even when you feel like an absolute mess, he thinks you're the most beautiful woman on earth, and he's lucky that you're here in his arms.

''I'm not beautiful,'' you mumble, but Ransom laughs softly, his white teeth exposed as you hear the chuckle escape his lips.

''You are beautiful, Sweets. You're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen, and that says a lot because I have seen many of them. But none of them compare to you and your beauty,'' he tells you.

He strokes a few loose hairs behind your ear, and his knuckles slide over your jaw as he pulls his hand back. He leaves a trail of goosebumps behind, and a shiver runs down your spine.

''Are you willing to tell me what's on your mind?'' he asks, his eyes shooting from yours to your plump lips and back. He can never get enough of your beauty, and he will always get lost in the color of your eyes.

''Men are stupid,'' you say as you let yourself drop against his chest again, with a deep sigh this time. His arms wrap around you, and you pull your knees up to your chest so he can hold you close.

''Except you, of course, you're not stupid,'' you quickly say, and Ransom chuckles.

''I'm glad you said that; I almost started to worry!'' he jokes, a genuine laugh forming deep inside his chest, once again warming you from the inside out.

''This guy I went on a date with is stupid, though,'' you sigh, and Ransom tilts his head to look at you with a quirked brow, wondering for more information.

''I was asking if we should go here or to his place because I enjoyed myself, and I thought he did too, but he made up some shitty excuse about his cat, and here we are…'' you tell him, and Ransom pulls you a little tighter to his body.

''His loss,'' Ransom shrugs, and you sigh again as you cuddle up into his chest, reveling in his warmth. You found yourself in your happy place, and you're not planning on going any time soon.

''Sweets? Why do you go on so many dates to begin with? It's just curiosity, not judging you or anything,'' Ransom asks later that night.

You two have moved to lay under your duvet, and your head is lying on his chest, where you can hear his steady heartbeat. Your hand splayed out over his abdomen, your leg thrown over his.

His left arm is wrapped around you and is on your ribcage, moving slowly up and down with your breaths. His other arm is folded underneath his head, and he stares at the ceiling as his thoughts go a mile a minute.

''Well, everyone keeps telling me how amazing it was to lose their virginity at 16 years old and stuff, and here I am, nearly 26 and still a virgin! So, well... I've figured I'd take matters into my own hands, but so far, no one has been willing to do it...'' you sigh out, shutting your eyes tightly as you're trying not to be so embarrassed.

''Huh,'' Ransom mumbles. It takes a little while to come up with an idea, and he hopes you'll also be into it.

''What about me?'' he suddenly asks, and your head shoots up to meet his gaze.

''What about you?'' you ask, though you're pretty sure you know what he's getting at with his question.

''If you're sure you want to lose your virginity, I am more than okay with doing that. But only if you are, too. If not, we can drop it and never talk about it again,'' he tells you, but that isn't necessary.

''A-are you... I mean... You'd do that for me?'' you ask, a little unsure now, but the more you think about it, the more it makes sense. There's no one in your life who you'd trust more than Ransom.

''Of course, Sweets. I'd do anything for you,'' he tells you before he guides you off of him, and he crawls over you, effectively caging you in.

''Ransom, please...'' you beg softly, and that's all he needs to know what you want. He leans down, capturing your lips with his in a soft, gentle kiss that takes your breath away, and you need more.

Your tongue slides over his bottom lip, and he opens his mouth to grant you access, your hand sliding into his hair to pull him impossibly closer.

His lower half is leaning on yours, and you can feel how hard he is right now as he's throbbing in his pants from the anticipation of what's about to happen. He'll be your first; after this, he plans never to let you go.

You moan softly as his hips start rolling against yours, and Ransom can't help but smile into the kiss before letting go and sitting on his knees, looking at you.

''I need words before I move on, Sweets. Because I need you to know that if we go through with this, you'll be mine, and I'm not letting you go. If you want me to stop at any point, you can tell me, and we can stop, no strings attached,'' he tells you, but you want him. Now.

''Yes, Ransom. Please take my virginity and make me yours. All I want is to be yours,'' you tell him, now almost getting impatient.

Within no time, you're both completely bare, and Ransom has sunk two of his long, thick fingers into your entrance, moving slowly to get you adjusted to the size of them.

''R-Ransom, I'm close!'' you tell him as he curls his fingers, the tension inside you building more and more, ready to snap. All you need is for him to give some love to your clit, and you'll fall over the edge, but he wants you to say it.

''What do you need, Sweets? Tell me, and I'll let you come,'' he says with a mischievous smile, and you groan in response.

''Need you to rub my clit!'' you tell him, and he obeys immediately, making you fall over the edge almost instantly.

''Look at you cumming for me; look so good for me, Sweets. Such a good girl,'' he grumbles out, and it only makes you even more horny, needing to feel him inside you.

Ransom grabs a condom from seemingly out of nowhere, but you're not thinking about that. All you're focused on right now is how big he is because it doesn't even stand up against his abdomen from how heavy and large it is.

It's amazing. And about to fit all inside you.

''Are you ready for me, Sweets? I'll go slow, I promise,'' he says as he leans forward after putting the condom on, capturing your lips with his as he lines up with your entrance.

''Yes, Ransom, I'm ready,'' you tell him, and your hands are on his biceps, squeezing softly when you feel his tip. It's a strange but pleasurable feeling, and the groan leaving Ransom's throat tells you everything you need to know.

Slowly but surely, he thrusts into you, keeping his gaze on your face at all times, ensuring that if you're hurt, he'll stop immediately. It's a good thing there's nothing but pleasure visible on your face because you're somewhere north of heaven right now.

With a loud moan, you feel him slide into the hilt, and your back arches, pressing your chest against his. You've never felt so full but never want this feeling to end.

''R-Ransom, it feels so good,'' you tell him, and he can't help but smile because he feels the same. He has never felt so damn good before.

When you've gotten used to feeling him inside you, he slowly starts to move, hitting your sweet spot after a few experimental thrusts, and it has you seeing stars. You wrap your legs around his hips, effectively pulling him even closer.

''You feel so good around me, Sweets, such a perfect, tight pussy for me to ruin,'' he growls in your ear, making you moan in response. It doesn't take long for both of you to cum, and when he's done, he pulls out carefully to let himself fall to the side.

''How're you feeling, Sweets?''

''Perfect,'' you tell him with a lovesick grin. It was everything you dreamt of and more. It was heaven.

#fluffcember 2023 #day 14 #knives out #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

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ronearoundblindly · 15 days

Text

List of Dirty Asks (April 2024)

Dirty Asks from this game:

A - Alone Time with Steve Rogers

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

U - Underwear with Ransom Drysdale

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

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

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

K - Kissing for Jake Jensen

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

K - Kissing with Ari Levinson

E - Extra Info with Jake Jensen

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

B - F - Bondage and Food Play with Steve Rogers

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

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

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

S - Sleepy Sex with Jake Jensen

P - Photography with Jake Jensen

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

dividers by @/cafekitsune

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eloquentreverie · 8 months

Text

𝐈𝐧𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐲

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: author! ransom drysdale x touch starved! girlfriend! reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You have the perfect cure for Ransom's writer's block.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.2k+

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 & 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: 18+ content! filthy smut, p in v sex, vaginal fingering, thigh riding, dirty talk, swearing, creampie

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐈𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐎𝟑

“Fuck!” Ransom slammed his fist down on the dining room table. He ran a hand through his hair frustratingly. With a sigh, he slowly closes the lid of his laptop. He had made no progress on his novel despite working for hours on the first draft, all the words he typed out seeming forced and not flowing right, resulting in him deleting everything and starting over.

“Ransom!” Y/N’s voice rang out, drawing his attention as she entered the dining room. His eyes lifted to meet hers, taking in her appearance in the silk nightgown that stopped just above her knees.

For a moment, he contemplates telling her to leave, but he can't bring himself to do so. Instead, he sighs and runs his hand through his tousled hair once more.

She approached Ransom, wrapping her arms around his neck from behind as she stood behind his chair. Her touch sent a shiver down his spine, but he remained steadfast in his determination to meet his deadline.

Her concern and desire were palpable in her tone as she whispered into his ear, "You've been working all night. Come to bed. For my sake, baby?"

He sighed, his lips slightly parting. "No. I've got a deadline. You know how important this book is to me." His stubbornness was clear in his tone, but Y/N wasn't yet done. She knew how much his writing meant to him, yet she was unwilling to give up.

After hearing Ransom's response, her desire to be with him outweighed her concern for his writing deadline. Her hands slid down his chest as she nuzzled into the crook of his neck, inhaling the woodsy scent of his cologne, her lips brushing against his jaw. He still refused to give up writing, but at that moment, all she wanted was for her boyfriend's attention to be directed at her...and her only.

“Ransom, I need you,” she begs, one hand inching closer to his belt buckle. And before she can move another inch, he snatches her wrist, surprising her.

He smirks when he hears her gasp. “You’re a persistent little thing, aren’t you?” Still holding her wrist, he pulls her down onto his lap, his arm snaking around her waist to hold her in place.

While the other glides down her arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake. “You think you can just waltz in here and I’m gonna give you what you want? Hm?”

“Ransom, please—?” He interrupts her, cupping her mouth with his palm. His other arm still holding her against him, his growing bulge pressed against her ass. “You feel that? That’s all me, baby girl.” She clenches her thighs together, a familiar honeyed heat pooling in her lower belly.

Ransom grins when she doesn’t answer. “Here’s what’s going to happen; you’re going to do what I say, and if you’re a good girl, maybe I’ll give you what you want.”

She nods as he leans back against his chair, arms loosely falling to each side. Leaving Y/N free to move about, but she remains sitting. Eyes pleading for some sign of what she’s meant to do, Ransom takes note, but he says nothing. He hums, his fingers trailing over her shoulders, pushing down the thin strap. “Here’s what I want you to do. I want you to ride my thigh. Show me how much you want me,” he whispered in a seductive tone.

Y/N takes a deep breath and forces herself to move, shifting so she's now straddling Ransom's thigh while he sits in his chair. She can already feel the tension in her own body, as she stares at his handsome face in anticipation. She can also feel the heat building within her as his fingers trail over her shoulders and down the thin straps of her nightgown.

Hands clinging to the fabric of his sweater as she started to move against his leg. Soft whimpers and moans escaped past her glossy lips, and he hummed his approval. Her breath hitched in the back of her throat when his hands trailed up her bare thigh, the cold of his rings grazing the sensitive skin.

“Mmm. Good girl,” he praised. His hands moved up her sides, dancing under the fabric of her nightgown, slowly teasingly inch by inch.

With her eyes closed in pure bliss, she threw her head back. He pushed the hem of her gown up, licking his lips as he felt his thigh begin to get damp from her arousal.

“Fuck, you’re doing so great for me, sweetheart,” Ransom groans against her ear, and a moan escapes her lips, rocking back and forth against him faster, losing all composure.

“C’mere,” he drawls as his thumb slides to her front, brushing her swollen lips, collecting her wetness. Ransom smirked devilishly, a hungry gaze overtaking his lust-filled blue eyes when she gazed down at him, finding satisfaction in the neediness her body provided.

She trembled at Ransom's devilish smirk, her breath catching in her throat as his thumb brushed against her swollen folds. As his thumb continued to collect her wetness, she felt herself growing even more aroused, yet she couldn't help but feel vulnerable as she gave in to Ransom and his touch.

She rocked back and forth, her body pressing harder against him as her arms wrapped around his broad shoulders, her lips seeking his own. Ransom grunted in appreciation and pleasure as he tightened his grasp on her thighs and leaned in closer to her. His hunger for her was palpable in the way he gazed at her with longing and lust in his eyes.

Ransom smirked, taking his thumb into his mouth. His tongue curled around his thumb with a guttural groan. He loved it—craved the taste of her desire. He gripped her chin, forcing his lips on her.

She melted into the kiss, tongues swirling as their breaths melded into one. Y/N groaned softly when the loss of contact, only to shiver when his icy blue eyes pinned her with their intensity.

"Get up. Bend over, arms spread out on the table," he told her after a moment, his voice still filled with lust. But as she started to move toward the table, Ransom pulled her back, turning her toward him again.

"On second thought," he told her, “I want to see that pretty face as I pound into that tight cunt. Face this way, like that... yes, baby—perfect.” His fingers trailed between her slit, his fingers dangerously close to her entrance.

Y/N whimpered when Ransom pressed his knee between her thighs, spreading her open for him. Leaning forward to capture his lips, her nipples hardened against his chest. “Uh-uh. Hands-on the table,” he snapped. “Spread.”

She did as he ordered. He looked down at her, taking her in, and bit the corner of his bottom lip. His mouth pressed into a smug grin. “Fucking perfect.” Ransom slid his hands back down the softness of her inner thigh, gripping tighter as they made their way to the apex of her sex.

Two digits teased her soaked opening, plunging them both inside of her warmth at a slow pace, dragging in and out. Her hips bucked upward against his hand, and he groaned at her eagerness.

Her hands curled, gripping the edge of the table. Her breath grew heavier and heavier as his fingers moved in and out of her. “Mmmm,” she whimpered.

“You are so wet and hot,” Ransom hissed into her ear. “Do you know what that does to me?” She watched him unbuckle the clasp of his belt, her eyes heavy with lust, watching every movement he made, admiring the muscles that danced underneath his thick white sweater as he slowly dragged it over his head and cast it aside.

He smirked at her, enjoying her wanton eyes, needing him as much as he did her. He stepped close to the table, pulling his cock free, and stroking it in his hand. She felt her mouth salivate.

“This is mine... all mine,” his eyes narrowed on hers. He brought the head of his cock against her slit. It jumped and pulsed against her slick core. The hardness was driving her mad. She pouted up at him.

“That look,” He exhaled harshly. “is why I’m going to give you whatever you want. Tell me what you want...don’t hold back. If you want my dick, then tell me, be the dirty girl I know you can be.”

He ran his thumb over her bottom lip, leaned down, and kissed her deeply. “Let go... give into the pleasure. Release the pent-up desires you’ve kept bottled inside.” Y/N couldn’t handle it; she’d gone far too long without having the weight of him over her body and the touch of him upon her skin.

The words flew from her lips freely. “Ransom, fuck, I need you...” she muttered, followed by a quick hitch, “I need to feel it in me.”

He smirked, pleased. “Yeah, baby?” She nodded; the next thing, his cock plunged deep inside of her with a grunt. “Ransom...” she moaned as he pulled back out slowly, leaving his tip to catch on the edge of her throbbing sex.

Her fingers gripped the edge of the table for purchase when he pushed his way inside, filling her so completely with himself. There was nothing between them, they were one.

Ransom placed his hands on her hips, his fingertips biting into her flesh as he ground his cock deeper and harder against her. She wrapped her arms around his body and held on as he pumped into her.

“Is this what you wanted, sweetheart? Is my dick what you missed when you touched yourself? Did your own hand bring you pleasure?” She mewled out her approval when his thumb caressed against her lower abdomen, making it press harder on the spot that made her head spin faster until, finally, her cunt pulsed with every wave of electricity that crackled through her body. She felt every nerve within her clamp down and cling to his length as it filled her to her brink.

His palms pressed to her breasts, pinching the perked buds as her pleasure rose. Ransom picked up the pace, pushing into her harder, hitting that delicious spot that had her back arching.

“Tell me. I want to hear you say it, baby.” Her walls clenched tighter around his length, sucking him in and not releasing. He buried his face into the crook of her neck, nibbling on the sensitive spot beneath her jawline, earning more melodic moans from her.

“You. I want you, all of you—God, fuck yes,” she cried out as he slowed the pace of his thrusts, holding her still as his pelvis hit her clit. Each time he drew back, it left her needy and wanting. Ransom placed her ankle atop his shoulders, looking down between them as his cock slid into her, glistening with her slick.

The sounds of their pleasure mingling echoed off the empty walls of the Drysdale residence. Ransom groaned loudly as his eyes closed, letting the sensations roll over him like a thunderous storm. She rolled her hips to meet his thrusts. His balls slapping against her ass. He grunted, loving the feeling of her pussy, the tight heat, and velvety walls.

“Such a greedy girl, always wanting to be full of my cock—fuck! Just like that baby, cumming already...” He slapped his hands onto her hipbones and rode her harder. She could see stars behind her lids, a telltale sign that she was nearing release.

His mouth dipped low, suckling at the peaks of her breast and pulling one taut nipple into his mouth, alternating between them. “I fucking love these tits...” he mumbled against her skin. “Just seeing you like this—fuck, baby, you make me feel things I never thought possible.”

“I love you, Ransom,” she whimpered when he drove into her in short, brutal jabs. He slowed and stared down at her. He smiled and caressed her face.

“I know,” he said as he kissed her. Her orgasm slammed into her, shattering her from the inside out, and she trembled from the sensation as she lost control of all faculties.

Her toes curled against his back, and her heels dug in. She shook against him and clawed at the smooth wood as Ransom continued to slide into her, slowing his movements while she rode the high.

His chest rumbled in a feral growl as his seed shot forth and flooded her core. He stilled for a moment and waited until he was spent. Pulling from her, he admired the sight before him. His cum slowly seeped from her slit and dripped from her folds onto the floor. A dark sense of satisfaction settled over him, and he gave a smug smile.

When she recovered, she sat up slowly, wincing slightly. Her sore muscles ached, but she felt sated in all ways. Ransom pulled her up against him, wrapping his arms around her. She breathed him in, sighing happily. “I didn’t hurt you, did I? Sorry, I got carried away,” he kissed her neck.

She laughed. “No, but I will be tomorrow, but it will be worth it.”

“What am I going to do with you?” he mused.

“I have a few ideas,” she grinned as she looped her arms around his neck.

Ransom laughed and peppered kisses over her neck. “It seems I created a monster,” he quipped, “but don’t think I haven’t noticed the lack of underwear. You knew what you were doing, you little devil.”

“What can I say? When it comes to you, I can be quite needy. Besides, how else would I get you to stop working?” Ransom scoffed, and he wrapped his arms tighter around her, kissing the top of her head.

“You head up to bed. I’ll be there soon. Okay, baby?” he asked. She nodded.

“Okay, baby, I’ll be waiting for you,” she replied as he helped her to her feet and walked over to grab his discarded clothes. He watched as she left the dining room.

Once she was out of view, Ransom sat back down in his chair. As he tried to resume his work, all he could think about was his girlfriend upstairs in their bed. The sounds of her soft cries, the feel of her under his touch. He licked his lips.

Who knew writer’s block could be such a blessing?

As he saved his document, he smiled and shut the lid of his laptop. Work could wait another day. For now, he had something more important to take care of.

banner credit: @.saradika

#chris evans #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x y/n #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale x female reader #ransom drysdale fanfic #ransom drysdale fanfiction #ransome drysdale imagine #ransom drysdale smut #author! ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale oneshot.#chris evans fanfiction

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coltrainbat · 1 year

Note

Can you write about ransom being interested of fucking his shy wife, reader's big ass.

Good Bunny

A/N: You said being and not actually doing it so I went off that. Sorry if thats not what you meant at all lol.

Warnings: Mentions of anal, anal sex, rimming - I feel this is obvious. Also first Ransom fic! Yay!

You lay in your silk nightie, face down on the bed, mindlessly scrolling through your phone until you felt the mattress sink and a familiar figure appear next you, rubbing their hand up your calves and towards you partly exposed ass.

“Hey bunny.” Ransom eyes were fixated on your lower back.

“My eyes are up here.” You moved your head to the side, smiling at your handsome husband.

He moved to lie on the bed, hand still lightly moving back and forth into your fleshy backside.

“I had an idea bunny.” He looked you in the eyes now, mischievous written all over his face.

“What is it?”

“You know it’s such a waste, having an ass like that and not using it for good.”

“What you mean? I’m always shaking it.” You wiggled your ass a bit for emphasis. Ransom groaned at the ripple that flew through the flesh, he grabbed it lightly and gave it a soft smack being met with a small yelp from you.

“Not that bunny, it’s just that I’ve been lucky enough to fuck 2/3 of your holes and thought maybe we should go 3 for 3..”

Your eyes widened at the suggestion.

“We don’t have to. I’d go slow and if you hated it we’d stop but I know how you like to try new things and-.”

“Would it hurt?” You looked at him, worry on your face.

“Yeah, but so did your first time and now you love it.”

You bite your lip “That’s true.”

Ransom moved closer to you, lying next you and holding out his arm for you to snuggle closer. His hand running down your back, rubbing your ass softly.

“We can start slow.” He purred, pulling you up by your chin to look at him so he could gauge the emotions of your face.

“How does that work?” You were anxious but curious.

“Well, we’d start with my tongue...” The mention of his tongue made you perk up.

“Like I always do.” He chuckled. “And I’d move it lower, run it around your rim.”

“And then when your you’re in doggy and nicely turned on… I’d get the wet stuff from your pretty little pussy and slip in a single finger.” He held up the number one.

“It wouldn’t hurt, you’d love it… you like feeling full don’t you bunny?” You nodded submissively at your handsome husband.

“And then, when you’re really ready, I’d get you a pretty pink buttplug and while you’re all hot, heavy and distracted, I’d slip it in your ass.” You gasped as Ransom.

“I’d give you a little time to adjust and it would only be a little bigger than my finger.” You nodded agreeably, thoughts of buttplugs danced through your head.

“Would it get stuck?” You asked innocently, Ransom’s head threw back in a chuckle.

“No baby it has a stopper, I wouldn’t let that happen… you know why?”

“Why?” A smile was showing now as you were impressed with your ability to make him laugh.

“Because I’d have control of it, slowly pushing it in and out of you.”

“And then what?” You were curious now, moving onto of Ransom so your hands were on either side of his chest, his hand still firmly on your ass.

“And then when you’re about to cum, I’d pull it out with a pop.” He moved his mouth and mimicked the sound of the word for emphasis. “You’d lose your mind bunny.” You lay your head on his chest, gazing up at him, hanging on his every word.

“And then overtime, the buttplugs would get a little bigger and longer each time I fucked you until I think you’re ready.”

“Ready for what?”

“For my cock in your ass.” He said it so casually, the smirk on his face never leaving.

You bite your lip at his salacious comment. Thoughts clouded your head and a wet spot formed in your panties at the thought of Ran filling all your holes.

His digit slowly slides up and down your crack, teasing the hole under the thin strip of fabric.

After that discussion, Ransom’s touches and slaps on your ass became more frequent.

Grabbing a bunch of fat to pull you closer.

Teasing your crack as you were standing and occupied, dragging his finger up and down.

He took you to the sex shop letting you pick out whichever buttplug you wanted, you naturally chose the pink one with a sparkly stopper.

And lube, a whole bottle of anal relaxing lube.

#ransom drydale x you #ransom x reader #ransom x you #ransom smut #knives out #ransom drysdale x reader #chris evans fanfic #chris evans character x reader #chris evans fic #chris evans smut #chris evans imagines #chris evans x reader #ari levinson x reader #chris evans fics #chris evans one shot

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avenging-fandoms · 1 year

Note

imagine giving professor!cevans head under his desk while he’s talking to another teacher

imagine professor/student teacher!drew and you not so subtly flirting with eachother and then one day he just asks you to stay behind to “talk about grades”

😵‍💫😵‍💫

You do not have my permission to repost my fics! These are MINE and mine only! :) You can reblog! Every reblog is appreciated!

*Adding another request: The reader and chris are having a affair she tells him it either her or his wife.

*Loosely based off of 'Teacher's Pet' by Melanie Martinez

"Enjoy your weekend, folks. Don't forget your papers are due Tuesday!" Chris announced to the class and you took your time packing your things, standing up as the last student left the room. You smirk to yourself and Chris closed his door, heading to his office inside the classroom.

You followed behind, your mouth softly in a frown as the office was empty. You jumped as the door slammed behind you, Chris pressing you against the door as he roughly kissed you. You dropped your bag and held his face, Chris's hand touching your thigh and you hum.

"You're such a tease, you know that? You're wearing a skirt, with no shorts underneath it? Like I told you to?" He mumbled against your neck, pulling his hand up your thigh and brushing his pinky over your underwear, and you shivered. "I might have to fail you for that, my dear"

"You wouldn't dare. I thought fucking the professor got you straight As?" You smirk and he holds your hair with his fist, making you look at him and you hiss.

"Not when you tease them and disobey them after they give you very specific rules to follow" He growled in your ear, biting your earlobe. You hum and held his elbows, Chris taking you to his desk and sitting you on it, Chris sitting in his desk chair and licking his lips slowly as you spread your legs in front of him.

Chris leaned forward, hand holding under your knees as his warm tongue pressed against your underwear. You let out a breath and ran your fingers through his hair, your leg over his shoulder as he pulled your underwear off your hips and groaning as his mouth wrapped around your clit.

Chris's tongue pressed flat against your pussy, drinking every drop of you and pushing his tongue into you. Your body laid back against his desk, holding onto the edge of the desk and moaning. You knocked a few things off his desk, including the picture of Chris, his wife, their two kids and Dodger. You didn’t feel right about what you two were doing, but the way his tongue licked your clit you forgot all about the ring on his finger.

Chris slapped his hand over your mouth as he stood up, sliding two of his fingers into you and looking at you with dark eyes. “Shut your whore mouth before anyone hears us, understood?”

“Y-yes sir” You bit your lip and he pulled away from you, unzipping his pants. You smile as you watch him pull his cock, but it quickly drops as you both heard a knock on the door. You quickly scramble underneath his desk, Chris scooting far into the desk and cleaning up his desk.

“Come in” He says and pretends to grade. The door opened and a voice greets him. “Ah, Professor Anderson, what can I do for you?”

“Oh, I thought you had a student in here” You could practically hear how hard your stomach dropped. “A student told me they saw someone come in here with you”

“No, a student asked me about a grade and left shortly after. No one in here but me and my pen” He cracks a joke and you roll your eyes, looking at his hard cock and drooling. You smirk and lean forward, sliding your tongue along his cock.

“That’s actually why i’m here, I wanted to ask you..” The words trailed off in your mind as you worked your mouth around his cock. You laughed to yourself as Chris stumbled on his words as your mouth sucked his balls with your hand pumping his tip.

"If you need anything else, give me a call" Chris says and the woman chuckles and you roll your eyes. You pulled away from Chris and watched from a little hole in the desk her feet turn and the tips of her shoes hit the picture frame on the floor. She bent over to display her ass and you wanted to jump her.

"This was on the floor, beautiful family" She says and your eyes fell, closing your eyes and shaking her words as she walked out the door. Chris got up to lock the door and you stood up, putting yourself together again and gathering your things.

"I can't believe you did.. what are you doing? Hey, I'm talking to you!" Chris grabbed your shoulder and you pushed his hand off as you put your bag on your shoulder, Chris fixing himself.

"Don't, Chris" You huff and he knits his eyebrow.

"What happened? Was it Anderson? She's just desperate I don't want her, I want you" He holds your cheek and you look at him.

"Then leave her! You want to be with me forever, you take me to your beach house, take me on nice dinner dates, I've had it" You drop your bag, teeth gritting together. "You say I'm so special, then prove it. Tell her you're leaving her, and you be with me" Your eyes darted back and forth in his as he thought.

"It's not that easy, honey" Chris whispered and you pushed past him, and he grabs your wrist.

"Let go of me!" You shout and he puts his hands on his hips, leaning on his left side. "Me or her.. choose wisely" You slam the door behind you and Chris took the picture frame, throwing it at the wall and the glass shatters, as well as the frame.

He was fucked.

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maaarijaaa · 1 year

Text

Mine ❦ Sherlock Holmes Part Eighth

Sherlock Holmes x Reader

Summary: Sherlock Holmes, the most famous detective in the world. After finishing a case, he decided to visit Enola and his mother. On the first day of the visit he laid his eyes on a beauty, you

Disclaimer: I do NOT allow for my work to be translated or posted anywhere else on this app or other platforms. English is not my first language so let me know if I made any mistakes!

Words count: 1.5k

A/N: I am finally done with this story🫶🏻The prologue would be posted in a few hours to see their married life with some kids maybe👀 This part might be bad but I have tried my best❤️‍🔥

Likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated🫶🏻🫶🏻

Its been a week since you have sene each other.

A week of both of you crying, not sleeping and worst of all, not eating.

Your own father could not recognize his own daughter. He was there for you the whole time and you were thankful for that but you were still angry at him for even trying to set you up with Mycroft.

While you and Sherlock were heartbroken, Mycroft on the other hand was very happy. He knows that soon or later you will be his and your father and him would finally start a business together.

You did not know this but Mycroft was coming over to your fathers house to chat. What you also did not know is that Mycroft brought a red velvet box with him, with your engagement ring being inside of it.

What Mycroft did not know was that a little bird was watching him while he prepared the ring in his study, that little bird would be Enola who would later tell her other older brother,Sherlock, before its too late.

Mycroft gets out of his carriage and sees that your dad is waiting at him at the porch of your house.

“Nice to see you again, Mycroft” your father spoke.

“Well its been a week since I last saw you and your beautiful daughter so I thought why not visit you” Mycroft spoke.

They walked into the house and later on into your fathers study room.

“Before we talk about some business I wanted to show you something.” Mycroft spoke to your father.

“I have brought your daughter a gift and wanted to ask for your permission…”

You father first stared at the ring then Mycroft.

“To take her hand in marriage. I love her deeply.” Mycroft knew himself that it was the biggest lie he has ever told your father but, business is business.

You father was in the disbelief, he did not expect that.

“You know, she is going thru a hard time but maybe you should ask her the question, you have my permission. I want what’s best for her and I think you marrying her would be a great idea.”

While Mycroft was happy that he got your fathers permission to marry you, Enola struggles to get Sherlock out of his bed.

He was very angry at himself for hurting you.

He was not getting very much sleep or eating very much. All he could think about is you.

Your beautiful face, your soft lips that stretch into a beautiful smile whenever you lay your eyes on him and your eyes that he always found beautiful.

While Sherlock was lost in his thoughts, Enola successfully got her brother out of the bed by pushing him and Sherlock falls on the floor.

“Ouch! What was that for?” Sherlock asked his sister

“Well since you did not wanna listen to me, I had to do it the harder way!”

Before Sherlock could even say a word, Enola cut him off

“If you don’t do anything, Mycroft is going to marry Y/N!”

Sherlock’s eyes widen at what Enola just said.

“What do you mean he is going to marry her?” He asked his sister.

“He went to visit her and her father this morning and brought a ring with him!!!”

Sherlock looked at his sister before rushing off to get ready. He needed to fix this.

While getting ready he wondered why Mycroft would marry you. Mycroft had zero interest in you and then it him.

The woman that was flirting with him at the event came with Mycroft and saw her around him few times. He formed the dots and realized that it was Mycroft’s plan all along.

“That son of a bitch!” He mumbled

After getting ready, he rushed down the stairs and ran to your house.

Meanwhile you were getting ready, you heard the voice that sounded too familiar.

Mycroft.

You rolled your eyes. He just loved destroying your life at every chance he got.

You dad knocked on your bedroom door.

“Honey, are you awake?”

You quickly grabbed your robe and put it on before shouting

“Yes father, I am awake! You can come in!”

Right after you said that you see your father entering your bedroom with no other than Mycroft him self.

Your father came up to you and hugged you.

“My only daughter, you have grown into a smart and beautiful woman. I am becoming old and when my time comes there will be no one to take care of you.”

“Father, what are you talking about?” You shed a tear.

“This morning, Mycroft came up with a wonderful request.”

You looked at your father and then Mycroft who was pulling out a red velvet box and was getting on his knee. You stopped breathing at that moment.

“Today is one of the happiest days of my life. Today I came to ask your dear father to take your hand in marriage and to my surprise he agreed. So will you, my beautiful Y/N, be my wife?”

He then opened the box and reveled a beautiful ring with a diamond on it but you knew you could not accept it. Your heart still belong to Sherlock.

Just as you were about to open your mouth, you heard someone running through the door.

“Y/N!!!” Sherlock shouted.

You then ignored your father and Mycroft and ran down stairs.

There he was. He finally came for you.

You ran into his arms and kissed him passionately.

Mycroft was pissed to say at least while your dad was more confused.

“What are you doing here Sherlock?!” Mycroft asked angrily.

Sherlock pulled away from you and looked at his brother.

“I came here to see the love of my life and I also came here to make something clear. Don’t you have anything to tell, Mycroft?”

You and your father stared at Mycroft slightly confused.

“Where is your friend Vanessa by the way, is she destroying other relationships and marriages now?”

You stared at Mycroft and then you too collected the dots. This was one of Mycrofts shitty plans.

“It was one of his many plans. Enola searched your office this morning and found out that it would be easier for you to make money and become businesses partner with her father by simply marrying her. When he passes everything that he would leave for her would be given to you. You found about our relationship and decided to use ur friend, paying her to play my so called “mistress” so that you could end us, but you know what?”

Just then, Sherlock put his arm around your waist and pulled you to his chest.

“Even if you tried it a million times, you would not succeed because my love for her and her love for me is stronger.”

Just then, Mycroft leaves the house, throwing a tantrum outside your house.

Sherlock pulls you close and presses a soft kiss on your lips.

“What now?” You asked him

“Well, do you want to get married. I don’t have a ring with me so I can not really propose you in a traditional way but..”

Sherlock could not finish the sentence since you cut him off with a kiss and said

“Being your life would be the best thing that has ever happened in my life.” You said while pressing your foreheads together.

You then turned around around and saw your father smiling

“I am sorry I wanted to do what’s best for you. And you Sherlock, have my full permission to marry my daughter.”

You and Sherlock looked at each other, smiling before kissing again.

You could not wait to get married….

Tag list requests are closed since there are just too many requests❤️ turn on you notifications to get notified🫶🏻

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babyjakes · 1 year

Text

dreamy undoing.

〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉

event | april '23 ddlg-themed blurb night

summary | when you need it most, ransom knows exactly how to clear out your pretty little head.

pairing | daddy!ransom drysdale x little!reader

warnings | ddlg. soft sweet doting daddy!ransom. toys: warming cream, clit pump, vibe, butt plug. fingering. soo much praise, a little dumbification, lots of "shhhhh"s which are my favorite hehe <3. reader cries a little but only due to pleasure. reader is tied up. multiple orgasms, squirting.

word count | 1,517

requested by 🫧 anon | Life has been so stressy lately and I just know that Daddy Ari or Daddy Andy (or any Daddy you feel like writing!) would put together the perfect plan to wipe all the stressy thoughts from their little one’s brain. Daddy would make sure she feels all safe and little first, and then maybe tie her up to show her some new toys he got for her as he tells her that he’s going to use them to make all her stress go away. By the end, all she can do is come and squirt over and over and over again as daddy makes her make a big big mess.

an | ohh bestie i'm so glad you sent in a toy request, i have been craving a good toy fic and this was perfectly timed for blurb night!! hope it's alright with you that i chose ransom, i just love him and miss him and always think of him first when it comes to toys hehe <3 also?? this was supposed to be just a quick lil blurb but the adhd medication got me completely carried away..... hope you enjoy >:-)

"There you go baby— shhh," Ransom's voice is the softest, sweetest thing you've ever heard as his gentle fingers spread the yummy-scented cream all over your poor little button. Your legs twitch against the ropes holding you open and spread wide for your daddy. Though you're all tied up in quite a punishing position, this is not a disciplinary session. Instead, the restraints are simply there for your safety, for your comfort. Ransom knows this is exactly what you need after such a grueling week of school and work; all he wants to do is let his pretty baby's mind melt away to nothing as he rewards her endlessly for all the hard work she's been doing.

"Mmm... Daddy," you mumble. Ransom hums along with you as he rolls your tiny knot of nerves between his fingers, the effects of the special cream not taking long at all to be felt. "Th-thank you Daddy, feels so nice, feels—"

"Shhh— you're welcome, baby," the dark-haired man leans his head in to press a kiss against your forehead as he works your sensitive clit with his fingers. "You just let Daddy take care of you, hmm? Don't have to worry about a single thing, sunshine. Need to empty out that pretty little head of yours, s'not good for a tiny baby like you to be doin' so much thinkin'."

From the little pile of toys he has sitting next to you on the bed, he grabs your favorite pump next. It's a simple device with a round plastic cup for your clit, connected to a small bulb that allows your daddy to work the suction manually. As Ransom uses his fingers to spread you out gently, fitting the toy into its place, your toes curl in excitement. "Need to get your sweet little button all puffy and ready for Daddy to play with, right baby?" he smiles as he sucks your poor clit up with a squeeze, earning an eager nod from you as he wiggles the pump carefully, making sure the seal is air-tight.

"Bet that feels nice— huh, princess?" he croons knowingly as he grabs the next toy: your pretty pink plug, custom-made with genuine Swarovski crystals embedded in the base. "Don't worry, angel. Gonna get it nice and slick for you, make sure nothing hurts for my pretty little girl." Eyeing your dripping folds, he hums in approval. "Such a good girl, getting so messy for me already."

Your mind floats safely through your tiny headspace as Ransom preps the plug with plenty of lubricant, earning a quiet whimper from you as he begins rubbing the blunted tip up against your puckered hole. "Easy baby, shhh," he soothes you once more, bringing one hand up to tap against the hard plastic encasing your clit as the other begins working the plug into you. He releases the pump before squeezing it again and again at a quick, teasing pace, your poor puffy button getting sucked up over and over by the tool.

Your breaths deepen, heart thumping faster and faster as your clit pulsates in pleasure, the sensation of the plug stretching you out in your most sensitive of places bringing you closer and closer to the edge in little time at all. Attentive as always, Ransom senses your growing arousal with ease. "Good girl, that's my sweet little y/n. That feel nice, baby? You like it when Daddy plays with your clit and plugs up your pretty little bottom? Poor little girl— so tight, aren't you?" he mocks pity, the heat in your tummy growing as he slides the plug in and out of your burning hole, letting it stretch you out as far as it can without quite giving you the satisfaction of inserting it fully to sit nicely in its intended place.

"P-please Daddy," you pout, bottom lip trembling as he toys with your ass, letting out a gasp as he sucks your needy button up fully again before plunging two thick fingers into your neglected cunt. "O-oh Daddy... thank you Daddy, I— please, please Daddy..." Ransom grins at the sound of your increasing desperation. The first orgasm is always his favorite; he loves dragging it out, watching as it creeps up slowly, then before either of you know it, all at once.

"There you go, babygirl. Just needed this pretty little pussy filled up, huh?" he sings, the pads of his fingers curling up against your tender ceiling as you grit your teeth, tears building in your eyes as you pass the point of no return.

"Please Daddy, I-I'm gonna— please," you heave.

"Go ahead, baby," Ransom murmurs, giving you a knowing nod as he works his hands faster, bringing you right to orgasm at his simple command, "cum for me. Theere," he hums, a satisfied look washing over his face as he witnesses you coming completely undone before him.

Clenching down against the plug and your daddy's fingers, you completely let go, gushing steadily against his ministrations. Your climax is long, steady, and intense, pathetic whimpers sputtering out of you once you finally begin to drift back down to earth. Ransom carries you through it with care, working your most sensitive places as long as he can to give you as pleasurable of an orgasm as possible. Only when you're finally winding down does he slow, bringing his drenched fingers up to his lips to taste your sweet juices.

"So good for me, angel," his voice is low, tender as he finally pushes the plug in fully, watching as it nestles itself perfectly into place against your trembling rosebud. Free hand coming up to rub your tummy gently, he coos as it still spasms lightly from your euphoric high. "So proud of you, sweetheart. Did so well for Daddy, that feel good?"

"Mhmm," you hum, gazing at him through half-closed lids as you soak in the dreamy waves of pleasure still coursing through your veins. "So good, thank you Daddy," you mewl sweetly.

"You're so welcome, little one. Now let's see here," he muses, bringing his attention back up to your clit as it sits swollen in its clear cage. "Oh my," he breathes as he lets it out of the pump with a pop, the magic workings of the device and the cream visible as the little bundle of nerves now sits completely exposed and hardened, just begging to be loved on. "So puffy, baby. Look at you," he enthuses, placing a hand behind your head to bring it forward, forcing you to look at your poor, abused sex.

"S-so puffy," you agree, eyes widening as he reaches for the bottle of lube, gently dripping some down against the knot of flesh. The sensation of the cool liquid hitting your most sensitive spot brings tears to your eyes once more.

"Think I've bullied your poor little button enough, huh?" he frowns as he grabs a small, cordless wand from beside you— another favorite. "Think it deserves some relief. What do you say, princess?"

"Y-yes Daddy, please Daddy," you drool as you rest your head back against the pillows once more, the sound of the wand switching on already overwhelming you with anticipation.

Pressing three fingers into your messy heat this time, Ransom gives no warning before bringing the head of the wand down to begin working over your clit. You jolt at the intensity, earning a light chuckle from the dark-haired man as he begins pumping his digits in and out of you once more, singing, "There, that's what you needed, isn't it? Just needed Daddy to tie you down and let you cum? How long d'you think you'll last this time, sweetheart?" he wonders aloud.

But you're already teetering towards the edge again, the wand being swirled over your throbbing clit in slick, steady circles enough to make your mind go completely numb. And that's all Ransom wants; that's all he's wanted from the beginning: to reduce you down to nothing but whimpers and moans, a drippy, darling mess at the mercy of his skilled hands. "Please... please..." Your vocabulary is shrinking by the second as his fingers speed up against your burning walls.

"You don't have to beg, baby. You can cum, can cum as many times as you need. Daddy's gonna take care of you, sunshine," he promises as you reach your second high, tears and spit dribbling down your chin as you squirt out against your daddy's hands once more. He praises you softly and sweetly, letting you ride out your orgasm for as long as you can. Your juices crackle against the hum of the vibrator as you squeeze your eyes shut, heart pounding in your throat as you wait seconds, minutes, what feels like forever for the ripples of pleasure to finally subside.

"Hmmph... Daddy..." your own voice sounds miles away from you as you stay in your daze, head entirely somewhere else as you feel the wand being run up and down your soaked slit.

"Daddy's here, angel. Doin' so good for me— let's see if you can give me another one, hm?"

quietly tagging @onsunnyside in dis bc. dis is puff puff behavior fr.

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boxofbonesfic · 21 days

Text

Title: 𝙳𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚕𝚐ä𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛 [6]

Pairing: Dark!Ransom x Reader, Lloyd Hansen x Reader

Summary: Your husband’s twin brother has always made you uncomfortable, and after two years of marriage, you finally find out why.

Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Possessive Behavior, Stalking, Kidnapping, Basement-wife, Gaslighting, Manipulation, Breeding kink, Smut, Darkfic, Dead Dove: Do not eat!

Word Count: 3,776

A/N: whew. okay. we’re back, we’re updating, and we’re getting back on track. i think the motivation behind the madness is becoming a little clearer. or at least, more clear. i hope you all enjoy, and as always, comments and especially reblogs are always appreciated. ❤️ divider by @firefly-graphics

It’s your wedding day, again.

You remember the soft white satin of your dress like it was yesterday—only it’s today, isn’t it? How can something happen again if it hasn’t happened yet? You look down at your hands, where the lacy sleeves of your wedding dress loop gracefully around your thumbs—your nails are picked raw and bleeding. You look back up at the mirror, and your own distraught face stares back at you.

I don’t want to get married.

No, that isn’t right—this is a good day, a happy day, why don’t you want it anymore? There is knowledge that dances just out of touch as you stare fuzzily at the mirror in your bridal suite. Something is wrong, but you don’t remember what it is. The mirror fragments, each component folding away as the world tilts on it’s axis, wood flooring becoming red carpet strewn with rose petals.

You stand at the altar, the priest beaming at you.

You will take him won’t you? As husband, husband and wife—Ransom splits in two like a cell, and both of them hold your hands so tight the bones creak and hurt and—

“I love you, Princess, Sweetheart, Darling, Mine—” One voice, two mouths, one person, two bodies. You don’t realize they’re pulling until you tear, splitting right down the middle like you’re made of tissue paper. too. Pulling you to bloody pieces as they repeat oaths of husbandly devotion.

My wife.

MY WIFE.

You wake up in darkness, your heart pounding in your chest. It disorients you, and you blink, expecting the cloud to clear from your eyes but it doesn’t. Immediately your hand goes to your stomach, and your frantic heartbeat calms just a fraction as you rest a hand on the gentle swell. The thoughts in your head are still an anxious jumble. Ransom, Lloyd, the party—

God, the party.

Your stomach churns as you recall Lloyd’s cruel smile.

Tell him. Tell me what he says.

You clap a hand to your mouth as an anguished sob threatens to escape. Ransom, Lloyd… where had they taken you? You frantically feel your way to the edge of the bed, your feet slipping a little on the cool tile as you stand.

“H-hello?” You call out into the darkness, but there’s no response. Trembling, you begin taking short, halting steps forward, your hands outstretched. “P-please, someone—fuck!” You curse loudly as your foot catches the edge of something, a table, a chair, you can’t tell. “Answer me!”

No one does.

You wander forward blindly until you reach a wall, and, feeling along it, you feel plaster turn to glass. You gasp, frantically dragging your hands along the surface until feel something—a switch. You flick it up, and there’s a sound like whirring gears. The lights don’t come on, but something else happens instead: the blackout shades on the other side of the thick pane of glass begin to lift, light creeping in underneath the edge. It’s blinding at first, spots dancing in your eyes as you throw a hand up to shield them, but after a moment, they adjust.

You see… a beach.

An empty beach.

The clear blue water comes straight up to the window like an aquarium. There are no people on the pristine, white sand—no one to hear you as you frantically beat your palm against the glass. Frantically, you turn around to take stock of the room, grabbing for a nearby chair. You knock over the little coffee table in the sitting area next to you, but you don’t care. It takes all your strength to heft it above your head, screaming as you slam it into the glass—

But nothing happens. It connects with a dull thud, the treated wood splintering as it cracks. The window is unharmed, barely even scratched. An anguished wail tears from your chest as you throw everything within reach that you can lift, beating everything into splinters until you’re left panting and sobbing in the wreckage.

“Sweetheart you know that really isn’t good for the baby.” You whirl around frantically, grabbing for the leg of a chair you’d broken into kindling against the indestructible-fucking-window, brandishing it threateningly. You hadn’t even heard the sound of a door opening—in fact, as you stare, wide-eyed around the room, trying to pin down his point of entry, you can’t seem to find a door at all in the lavishly decorated suite.

“Fuck you!” You snarl at him, your lip curling. “Let—let me out of here!” Ransom clucks his tongue at you like you’re an errant child.

“You’re a smart girl, Love. You know I’m not going to do that.”

“You can’t fucking keep me in here—” Ransom shakes his head.

“I can, Sweetheart. And I’m going to. We’re going to.” He casts a disparaging look down at the ruined chairs and table by your feet. “Lloyd did tell me not to put the good stuff in first—I underestimated your temper.” The casual remark makes you want to swing your makeshift bat at his head. “He designed it for you, you know. I thought we could just lock you in the basement, but now that I see it, I think this is better.”

“You’re a monster.” You’re crying, hard, hysterical sobs that leave your throat raw and aching. He actually has the gall to look hurt by your insult, his face crumpling as his mouth presses into a thin, angry line.

“A monster that loves you. That would do anything to protect you—even from yourself.” Your body seizes with fear as he crosses the room in a few easy strides, gripping your shoulders with furious hands. You whine as he squeezes, pressing harder and harder until you drop the scrap of wood you’re holding. You don’t know this Ransom, this maniacal, cruel man wearing your husband’s face, your husband’s ring.

“Do you remember what it was like when we got together?” He asks. Ransom shakes you a little, like he’s trying to jog your memory. “Living at home with your parents, helping them with every single bill because you were terrified your sister was going to graduate high-school on the streets—”

“So what?” You spit back. “What the fuck does that have to do with anything?”

“I gave you everything.” For the first time you see the same possessive madness in his eyes you’d seen in Lloyd’s. “And you think you can just walk away? Take from me until you’ve gotten your fill? That’s not how this works, Sweetheart.” He releases you and you stumble away, clutching yourself. He straightens his shirt, smoothing back the errant hairs that have fallen into his face.

“We’re going to give you such a good life, Sweetheart. You just have to trust us.”

“I will never trust you again.” You growl the words at him like a threat. “I hate you.” And then, inexplicably, he’s your Ransom again, his blue eyes soft as he looks at you, like he knows something you haven’t yet come to accept. Like an adult admonishing a child for fears they’ll soon leave behind as they grow to accept the way things are—the way they always will be.

“You won’t always.” His eyes flick down to the destruction you’ve wrought, and he clucks his tongue. “Maybe I’ll talk to Lloyd about bringing in some new furniture for you, if you’re good.” Ransom’s handsome mouth curves up into an amused smile. “Maybe something a little heavier.” He kicks at a piece of the table, before making his way back over to the other side of the room. A door the same color as the wall opens at his touch.

“Lunch in an hour.”

—

True to his word Ransom returns with Lloyd in tow, a tray held in his large hands. You’d waited for this moment with a dark sort of anticipation, and for a brief moment, their stunned, angry expressions as the door panel slides open fill you with a sense of profound pride.

You’d done your level best to destroy everything that wasn’t nailed down, methodically and systematically taking apart everything you could get your hand on. Even the mattress lies ruined, feathers and wood splinters littering the torn cover. Though the mirror had refused to break—and indeed proved too heavy for you to lift—you feel a smug satisfaction in seeing what you had been able to accomplish with jagged pieces of plywood.

Fuck you.

Lloyd steps in first, squatting down to inspect a piece of the smashed coffee table.

“I told you we shouldn’t have put this stuff in here first. Empty room, Ransom. You always have to start with an empty room.” His eyes flick up to yours, and he smiles softly—affectionately. “Hi, Princess.”

“Go to hell, Lloyd.” Ransom steps fully into your room then, shutting the door gently behind him before setting the tray on the windowsill. He sighs.

“I know it was stupid to hope your attitude had improved in an hour, but stranger things have happened.” He glances back at the tray. “You should eat something, Love. It’s been four days of—” His words become a static drone as the panic begins to set in. Four days? I’ve been out for four days? The questions fill your head almost faster than you can process them. Where are you? Your parents, your sister? What happened?

“What is this? What is this fucking place?”

The pride in Ransom’s eyes makes you want to vomit. “We made it for you. Just for you. It took—how long, Lloyd?”

“A year, give or take.” He rubs his fingers along the growing stubble on his upper lip. “And then finding staff…” He pauses. “The hotel, or just the Room?” The way Lloyd says room makes it sound singular, important. You cannot help but gape at them

“You’re sick—both of you. Y-you—what you did to me—” You shake your head. “A-all of this.” You gesture at the room around you. “For what?” Lloyd threads his fingers together, and you can hear the soft metal click of his rings tapping against each other as he does.

“I know you’re not deaf, Princess. It’s for you.”

Cold trickles down your spine. You’ve been doing it ever since you woke up, running through each moment in the past four, five and cataloguing each one you couldn’t make make sense. You’re doing it again now, thumbing back through the index cards of your memories and finding empty slots. Thanksgivings, Christmases, Easters—Ransom had told you it had been a year, but you can’t trust that, you can’t believe him, not after everything.

“My family won’t let you do this sick fucking shit, you know that.” You spit. “They’re not going to let you kidnap me—”

“How much is Nathalie’s school, Sweetheart?” Ransom asks, cocking his head. “Per year.”

“What?” The question throws you off, the freight train of words in your throat piling up messily on your tongue. “What are you—”

“How much is her tuition?” He repeats it slowly like you’re having trouble understanding him. You bare your teeth at Ransom as you grimace.

“I don’t know. She has a scholarship. What the fuck does that have to do with anything?”

“It’s $63,000.” Ransom gives you the figure so matter-of-factly it’s like he rehearsed it. “Per year.” Your stomach sinks, like your body knows before your head. “What, you didn’t know? No one ever reads the paperwork, do they, Lloyd?” He glances at his brother over his shoulder. “What’s it say on the checks? T. H. B. Inc., doesn’t it?” He licks his lips. “The T stands for Thrombey, Sweetheart.”

You almost want to laugh for the insanity of it all—you even try, but no sound escapes your tight, dry throat. Lloyd nods.

“Same as the ones your father gets. Funny how his company’s picked up these last few years, isn’t it?”

Your fists clench and unclench as you sit there on the floor, staring up at them. There’s nothing left to destroy, nothing left to break except the two of them—and you already know how that ends. Instead, you’re forced to sit there, hot rage coiling in your chest as the realization dawns cold and cutting—

Your family is already bought and paid for, even if they don’t know it.

“I never asked you for this.” You spit, nails biting into the meat of your palms as you press angry fists against the cool tile. “I didn’t ask you for fucking any of this!”

“I promised to make a home for you, didn’t I, Sweetheart?” He squats down in front of you, his hand out like he wants you to take it. “A good husband provides.” It isn’t supposed to feel like being cut into a thousand pieces to hear his wedding vows regurgitated like this. His gaze drops to the ring still on your finger. You hadn’t noticed it until he did, and as he watches, you rip it from your finger with a violent twist, and throw it at him. He actually looks upset at this, a hint of his earlier rage passing over his features like a cloud.

You hate the way it makes your gut wrench because you want him to fucking hurt. It’s like your body hasn’t realized yet just who he is—who they are, and it makes you even angrier. You turn away, loose nightgown bunching under your thighs as you turn to face the wall instead.

“Leave me alone.”

“Not until you eat something.” You aren’t sure if it’s Ransom that speaks, or Lloyd. You press your eyes shut and bite your lips to shutter the angry, frustrated wail that threatens to leap from your throat. “That’s not good for the baby.”

Good for the baby.

Good for the fucking baby.

You want to hate it now; the child growing inside of you, even if only to spite the men standing behind you. But you cannot bring yourself to—and you hate that too.

Shame is not a new feeling, not for you, but it feels new today as you pick apart the plain chicken salad sandwich they had brought for you. Assume it’s drugged. You hate yourself as you tear off chunks with stiff fingers, forcing your mouth open and swallowing it down with a grimace. Assume everything is drugged. When you’re finished, you drag the back of your hand across your mouth roughly, tossing the tray at Lloyd’s feet.

He doesn’t pick it up.

“Good girl.” You shiver. It’s involuntary, and you know he sees it, the way his mouth twitches with the urge to lift into the smug smile you know so well. “Your wish is our command, Princess.”

Ransom bends to pick up the ring wordlessly, and follows his brother out of your room.

—

They don’t come back that night.

You watch the sky outside the glass wall of your prison turn dark, and then brighten again with stars as you sit huddled against it, hugging your knees to your chest. You’re exhausted, but you can’t sleep. Your body won’t let you, jerking you back to wakefulness as soon as your eyelids start to droop. The thoughts won’t stop coming either, cycling through on a loop you can’t seem to stop.

I wonder what Nat’s doing.

I wonder if they’re worried about me.

I wonder what Ransom told them.

You want to pinpoint the time your life went off the rails but you can’t, you don’t know it. College, perhaps?

When you’d met Ransom? Lloyd?

You drag yourself away from the window after a few hours of staring bleakly out at the empty beach. It feels like too much to hope for that someone would happen by, not with the lengths they had clearly taken to secure you. The comforter bleeds feathers as you drag it to the floor beside the bed, wedging yourself between it and the wall. You know you aren’t safe—you’ve little control over that—but the solid press of concrete behind you makes you feel more secure.

It’s what allows you to finally fall asleep, though it is not restful. It feels like you wake every few minutes at every imagined sound, jolting back to consciousness and scanning the still empty room before quickly passing out again. You half expect Lloyd and Ransom to be back, waiting for you to open your eyes but when you finally do, you are still blessedly alone, but for the fresh tray in front of the door.

You wait for a few minutes, just to see if they emerge from your peripheral vision, the places in the room you can’t see from your vantage point—but they don’t. Everything is as it was before, the destruction from your earlier rampage still strewn across the floor. It feels surreal. Slowly, you pick your way across the debris and grasp the tray in your trembling hands. You don’t want to eat it, not really, but your stomach clenches and rumbles at the sight of food as you peek beneath the tray cover.

It isn’t anything special—another sandwich, a bag of chips, and a bottle of water. You check beneath the styrofoam plate just to be sure, there’s no note, no nothing, and you cannot help but wonder when they’ll be back. They’re messing with your head, you know they are—and you hate that it’s working. You’re rattled, upset, anxious—just how they want you.

The urge comes again to pick up the largest piece of anything you can find and smash it against the window until it breaks.

We made it for you.

Your stomach churns with disgust even as you take a greedy bite out of your sandwich. How hadn’t you seen yourself and your family waltzing right into the palms of their hands? How hadn’t you noticed? Lloyd had always been overly interested, overly gracious, even after you’d rejected him, and started dating his brother. You’re reminded of Linda’s curt smile and her slickly delivered barb. You tore them apart without even thinking about it. And Lloyd’s admission…

It was more than a little crush.

You don’t know how to reconcile the madness simmering behind your husbands eyes with the man who’d held your hands and said his vows. As he’d griped your wrists, staring into your eyes with his own fever-bright, you could barely recognize him.

You clean your plate, washing it down with the water before casting another look around the room. It’s blank, empty beyond the few pieces of furniture you hadn’t been able to destroy. No books, no television—nothing. You search the walls near the door panel, looking for something, anything that might make it open, but you find little. The smooth white keyboard does not respond when you push your thumb against the rubbery buttons, and the seam is so narrow you can barely wedge your fingernails into it to try and pry it open.

For hours you walk the perimeter of the room, running your hands along the walls, feeling no breaks in the smooth, cool surface. You have to get out of here—but you don’t even know where here is. How far you are from the resort, if you’re even on the same island. As the room darkens, you realize you’ve been pacing for hours like a caged animal, and neither Ransom nor Lloyd has come to check on you all day. Somehow, the thought fill you with apprehension. Not knowing when they might appear is unnerving, and you suspect they mean it to be.

You thread your fingers through your hair, tugging on it as you watch the sun sink into the sea, a panicked, claustrophobic feeling rising in your chest until you realize you aren’t breathing. You can’t stay here like this, you can’t—

Before you realize it you’re running for the door, beating your fists wildly against the panel.

“Let me out! Let me the fuck out of here!” Your frenzied wailing rings in your own ears. It’s like you’re numb to the pain as you swing with all your might. You’re aware-even if only dimly—of the fact that your fists will be sore and aching later, bruised and beat to a pulp but you don’t care. Not if it gets you out—not if it gets you away from them.

“Ransom! Ransom let me out! You can’t fucking keep me here! You can’t!”

Nothing happens. The door doesn’t budge, and there is no answer to your increasingly panicked demands. You scream for hours. Until you’re hoarse, and your trembling fists ache to raise above your shoulders. Still, you bang your open palms against the panel as your firm insistence becomes a stream of nonsense pleas.

“Please, please don’t do this, if you l-loved me y-you wouldn’t do this!” Tears and snot run down your face as you collapse to your knees, exhausted. “Please.” You mumble, curling in on yourself in front of the door. The tears come again, and you don’t even try to stop them, sobbing open-mouthed on the cold tile, your hands fisting in your nightgown.

“Please.”

You lay there until the room goes dark.

—

“I hate seeing her like this.” The cameras are good—too good. He can see the pain on your face too clearly, hear the betrayal in your voice just a bit too well through the speakers.

“You think I like it?” Lloyd asks irritatedly, and Ransom sighs. “She’ll even out soon. If not, you can up the mood stabilizer. She’s cleared for it until the second trimester.” Ransom knows his brother, knows that’s his version of comforting reassurance. “Besides, you’re the one that decided to play keep-away.”

Ransom looks at the camera again, at your softly moving shoulders. He’s both thankful and irritated at the hair covering your pretty face—but at least it blocks the sight of your tears. As he watches, you shudder—like you’re still crying, even in your sleep.

“I know. We have to make her grateful. For us.” He says, still looking at the screen. And he does. He understands the necessity of it—it was his plan, almost more than Lloyd’s. “I still hate it.”

“I don’t anticipate she’ll keep it up more than a week. Two, tops.” For the most part, Ransom has seldom ever found himself envious of his twin, but now he felt his lip curl with irritated jealousy at Lloyd’s confidence. “Don’t worry little brother,” he grins. “Our Princess will love us again.” He turns back to the cameras. “I’m sure of it.”

To be continued…

next chapter

Thank you for reading! Please check out my masterlist for other, similar works, and follow my library blog, @box-of-bones-library for updates. ❤️

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