#ransom drysdale x reader
-> ransom comes home angry, a fight ensues but none of you can go to bed angry.
a/n: fluff and angst? ransom's insecure and it just makes him push away the reader :(( enjoy the fic!!
You barely registered the loud slam of the front door and the heavy stomps that followed. Ransom comes into the living room, and instantly headed into the kitchen- not even bothering to address you.
You caught on immediately that the Thrombey family meeting didn't go well at all. As per usual. So you stood up from your seat on the couch and followed him into the kitchen where he was tugging off his coat and reaching into the fridge for a drink.
He rolls his eyes as he chugs the beer down, completely ignoring you.
You stepped towards him, taking his free hand into yours and you press soft kisses on his knuckles. "What happened, babe?"
Ransom snatches his hand away from you, the frown still carved in his lips. "Oh— fucking hell. Will you fucking stop crowding me?" He snaps, turning away from you as he leans against the counter.
He knows he screwed up as soon as those words left his mouth, but his pride wasn't gonna let him apologise. It really wasn't his fault that his mouth works faster than his brain.
You were used to this, still- it doesn't sting in your heart any less painful. Again, still, it's Ransom you're talking about here. So really, you kinda know not to take it to heart— which again, doesn't make it any less painful.
Ransom wanted to apologise- he really did. But no matter how much he wanted to force the words out, it just couldn't get past his lips.
"Hey," You grab him by the sides of the blue sweater he's wearing, forcing him to turn around even though he hesitated. You cupped his cheeks, thumbs rubbing gently against his cheekbones. "Y'know you can talk to me about it, Ran."
This is usually where he breaks, the part where he'd just pull you into his chest and nuzzle into your hair. But instead, the frown he had on his face turned into something more glum and sad. As much as he wants to let himself sink into your touch, he doesn't think he deserves it.
Ransom lets his fingers curl around your wrists, dreading the feeling of prying your hands off him. But he does it anyway, puts up the emotionless Ransom act just so he wouldn't have to deal with what he's really feeling. "Fuck– just leave me alone, alright?" He huffs, picking up his coat and trudges out of the kitchen, leaving the empty can of beer behind and you listen to the sound of his feet stomping on the steps on his way up to the bedroom.
You know it's better to let him cool off a little before you go after him– let him think on his own or whatever. But your gut feeling tells you that it wouldn't be so easy to get through him tonight. That glum look he had on his face earlier on? That's not your Ransom.
You wrapped up your work, shutting down your laptop and stacking all the files you need for work tomorrow. That itself took about half an hour, so you decided that it was probably time to go up and head to bed, maybe talk to Ransom if he actually feels like talking.
He was sitting up against the headboard when you came in, chest bare and his hands holding open a book– probably a new piece that he's supposed to read through and edit or something. He barely looked up at you, just a simple glance over his metal-frame glasses before he's back to reading the words off the book.
If you weren't just a little pissed at him, you would've walked over and gave him a kiss on his nose just because he looks so goddamn irresistible in those glasses. But well, you're pissed. And obviously, Ransom wasn't going to start the conversation or even try to apologise with how he doesn't even bother to acknowledge your presence.
You hated it– the silence between you two, and you could only hear him flipping the pages every couple of minutes and the shuffling of your own movements as you got yourself ready for bed. The silence was too loud and you knew you would never fall asleep if you even tried to.
You grabbed your phone off the dresser as you head to the bed, deciding to grab your favourite pillow as well. You quickly thought about grabbing one of Ransom's too, knowing you'd have trouble sleeping without his scent. But you quickly threw the idea away, not wanting him to get the satisfaction of seeing you needing him just to sleep.
Ransom caught your movements through the corner of his eyes, and his heart beats just a little faster as he clears his throat. "Where you goin'?" He plays off the pressure blooming in his heart even though it's already making his brain overthink things.
Is this the part where you're just gonna go and leave him? Or you've just had enough of him?
"I'm not gonna go to sleep beside you when there's obviously something both of us aren't happy about." You stated simply in reply, barely looking at him before you're turning to leave the room.
He knows he should've gone after you, told you to stay. The bed's different without you sleeping in it beside him. When the door shuts behind you, he lets out a sigh, pulling the glasses off and throwing the book aside, watching as both items bounce lightly on your side of the bed– the one you should be sleeping in.
He considers picking the book up so he can continue with his annotations and edit anything he doesn't find right about it. But even he knows he's too out of his mind to even focus on it. He's worried and it's sending his brain into overdrive. It's making him paranoid about losing you and he hates the feeling.
Ransome picks the book and glasses up, setting those on his nightstand before he switches off the lamp and shuffles down on the bed. His arm instinctively reached over to your side of the bed, realising that the other side's cold and empty and nothing like what he's used to.
His finger clenches around your pillow that you left behind, pulling it to him as he buries his nose in your scent. He'll never tell you this, but he's gotten so used to you, your cuddles and your scent that he just cannot go to sleep without it.
He huffs, lying flat on the bed as he stares up at the ceiling, looking at the neon stars you had insisted on pasting on the ceiling. He'd never admit it, but the childish view really stuck with him and he actually finds it comforting now.
Ransom knows you're only going to the guest room down the hall but what if he wakes up tomorrow and you're nowhere home? What if you just decide that you've had enough of him and you just leave? Fuck– what if you're tired of all his crap and you decide that you deserve so, so much better than him?
Everything about the bed was wrong. The mattress is too soft, it's like you're sinking into the ground. The pillows are too new and it just smells like detergent, except for the pillow that you brought over from you and Ransom's room.
You weren't used to this– not feeling his arms around you while you sleep or not smelling his aftershave as you dozed off. It was different, and you hated the feeling.
Even as you hugged the pillow into your chest and clamped another between your legs, it still isn't comfortable enough for you to just fall asleep. You should've at least sneaked one of Ransom's shirt before you left the room. It wasn't him but it'd be a pretty decent alternative.
Ransom drags his feet as he trudges down the hallway. He's slept in the guest room once and he knows the pillows were too soft so he was just hugging the pillow you left to his chest. Just in case, y'know– you'd be too mad at him to even let him hug you.
He was scared to go in, but he just got jealous when he sees you sleeping with your back facing the door. He almost lets a humourless chuckle leave his lips. There he was, needing you just for him to sleep while you're there and sound asleep without him.
There's an annoying voice at the back of his head telling him that you don't need him as much as he needs you. But there's something else tugging at his heartstrings, begging for him to climb in beside you and join you on the bed.
For once? Ransom listens to the second voice.
You heard the shuffling of his feet against the floorboards and you instantly pretended to be asleep, heart thumping loudly against your chest as you hear the door creak open and a streak of light peek in. There was a quick glimpse of his shadow moving into the room before the door closes shut.
He hesitated before he climbs in beside you, the mattress sinking as he puts his palm on the bed. He knows it was too late to back out when he lies beside you, trying to decide between wrapping his arm around you or just hugging your pillow that he brought over.
Ransom took a deep breath as he lies on his side, one hand sliding under the pillow his head's on and the other shifts to go over your torso. He decided that there was nothing else to lose since he already threw away his pride when he entered the guest room. He pulls you against his chest, before his palm just rests awkwardly by your chest.
"I know you're mad." He sighs, thinking you're asleep so he can let the words spill out of his mouth. He kept his voice low because the last thing he wants to do is to wake you up. "You can scream at me tomorrow if you want to. Just let me hug you first."
You could've turned right then, wrap your arm around him so his hand isn't so awkwardly planted on the bed. But for some reason, you wanted to hear what else he was gonna say.
"I love you." He says, and he leans down to press a kiss against your hair. "I can't lose you– but you deserve so much better, baby."
Your stomach churned at his tone, feeling your eyes water at just how vulnerable he sounds. You couldn't bring yourself to turn, instead just waiting as he continues with whatever's on his mind.
"They said I don't deserve you." He takes a shaky breath. "That you'd be better off with someone who isn't an emotionless scumbag."
You turned immediately, seeing how his eyes were teary before it widens at your sudden movement. "Ransom." Your palm cups his jaw as your mind thoroughly registers what he said. "You're the only one I need, alright?"
"You were up the whole time?" He chuckles breathlessly before he blinks away the tears in his eyes.
"Ran," You ignored his question, instead opting to lean up and kiss his forehead. "They're fucking wrong, okay? You mean the whole world to me, Ransom. I love you."
He shakes his head and he glances away to avoid looking at you. "They're right, y'know. You can do so much better than–" He scoffs, his bottom lip quivering and it only makes your heart breaks for him. "Me."
It pissed him off when they said it, when his own family members said that he's an asshole who doesn't deserve a sweetheart like you. Walt said that you'll just leave him someday when you see just how much of a mess he is.
Your thumbs rubbed over his cheekbones gently. "Baby, c'mon– don't listen to them, okay? I fucking love you. There's no one else I want, baby. And you're not an emotionless scumbag, okay? They don't see what I see. I'm all yours, alright? No one else matters. Just you, Ransom."
You push yourself up, bending your elbow and lean your head on your palm. Your thumb wipes the stray tear on his cheek.
"You can't tell anyone I cried."
You hum, letting your free hand rest on his cheek as he stares up at you. "You're pretty when you cry."
"First and last time, sweetheart." He huffs, even though there's a glint in his eyes. He takes your hand, bringing it to his lips and softly kissing your knuckles. "I'm sorry."
"Can I still scream at you tomorrow?"
"You can do anything you want as long as you promise you'll love me forever."
ransom *heart eyeshshsgdhshzhsh* drysdale
i just know that this man would be the softest asshole when he finds the right person for him. god, i just wanna ch*ke him for being so cute.
thanks for reading! reblogs/comments/likes/feedbacks are more than appreciated!! <33
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Desperate Affairs Masterlist
Engaged to Andy Barber, and deeming him too safe, and only wanting to be intimate to get you pregnant, you start a sex only relationship with Ransom Drysdale. Nothing is ever easy, and you get yourself into a web of lies. Are you the only one lying? *This has a whole heap of Chris Evans characters!*
Part 1, Part 2, Part 2.5, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 6.5, Part 7, Part 8, Part 8.5, Jake Jensen, Part 9, Part 9.5, Meeting Andy, Part 10, Part 10.5, Girl Talk, Part 11, Part 11.5, Part 12, Part 12.5, Part 13
A/N: this is a dark!fic that is a cheating story. Each chapter will be tagged with warnings. There are moments of dub con/non con, cheating, secrets, lies, etc. proceed with caution. YOU are the one responsible for the content you consume.
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scream. || serialkiller!ransom drysdale x f!reader.
"Why are you doing this?" you ask, voice cracking with a cacophony of rage, fear, and sorrow.
It doesn't seem like your Ransom who smiles back. He's not playful or mischievous. There's no sign of that usual teasing smirk. Whatever mask that he has worn so well over the many years finally drops, and all that's left is something savage and cruel in its place.
"Because I want to," he replies, as if it's the simplest thing in the world. "Because I can." - Excerpt.
Written for @boxofbonesfic Spooktacular Smutfest.
WARNINGS: Dark Fic. Slasher!Horror. Graphic Murder and Violence. Detailed Descriptions of Injury. Dub-Con/Non-Con. Sexual Assault. Posessive!Ransom. Blood Licking. Vaginal Fingering. Vaginal Sex. Loose Mentions of Drugs and Addiction. Mentions of Slight Emotional Infidelity. Breeding Kink. Dead Dove, Do Not Eat.
Word Count: 3.8k
CLINTS-LUCKY-ARROW MAIN MASTERLIST
TAGLIST BLOG: @clints-lucky-reblogs
Likes, comments and reblogs are much appreciated.
A/N: This one isn't for the faint of heart.
My first dark fic! I've never done one before, so hopefully it's alright. We are going for horror-themed after all...
Remember, please heed the warnings above. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. If you're not into these types of stories, it's very simple: Just don't read it.
My responsibility ends here...
Everything is blurry. Woozy and sickening, heightening the tide of roiling nausea inside your stomach. It radiates through your body. Relentless. An ache that disjoints the world. One that leaves you addled and more than slightly confused.
The pain is strongest in your temple.
As you lift an arm to touch, a sharper throb laces through your skull. Wincing, you withdraw your hand. Crimson blood glistens upon your fingers, nearly shining below the bright light of the chandelier overhead. The sight very nearly has you pass out right there. Still, you fight the urge, knowing that to do so may well mean death.
Can't stop. Not here. Not when you don't know where he is.
That masked psycho brandishing a knife. He'd killed Ransom. Fuck. You'd found him first, on the floor of the study with the black rise of a handle poking out of his chest, and you'd screamed until you felt your throat give out. If it hadn't been for Stephanie - your best friend - dragging you away, you would have been next. But it hadn't been you. It had been Daniel, and then it had been her.
You have no idea where the others were. Everyone had scattered in different directions - fleeing wildly through the twisting halls of the sprawling Thrombey manor. A maze that only the family really knows how to navigate. For all of the time that you'd been here, and that was many, many occasions, the layout still has yet to stick.
It is even worse now. When the freak in the mask had lunged out of the corner to stab Stephanie, he'd turned, ripped hem of his black cloak whirling at his ankles, and punched you in the temple with a closed fist. Hard. You were sent reeling at the impact, other side of your head colliding with the solid jut of the mantle piece, and sickening stars burst across your vision. It had been a wonder that you'd gotten away.
Maybe he could have caught you - it's hard to decipher the real memories through the dizziness, and the pulsating pain - but still, something whispered that you were being toyed with. Held between the paws of a predator, simply for his cold amusement. That if he truly wanted to, that monster could have slashed you instead of just delivering a blow. And, he could have caught you as you stumbled away.
This is no accident.
Tight claustrophobia strains your chest. It's harsh, like an elastic band pulled unbearably taut. Another wave of dizziness washes over you. There's a sound - a low, aching groan. It takes a prolonged beat to release that it's coming from you. Fingers tightening weakly on the bannister, you try to descend the short set of stairs before you. All that you need to do is keep going down, and the house will let you out eventually.
You can find a door, maybe even a window. Just something. Whatever will release you into the garden or the drive - allowing you to get to your car - so that you can tail it away from this nightmare.
The next sharp throb that pierces through your skull nearly has your legs give out. Body seizing slightly, you almost collapse on the bottom step, falling against the railing and clinging to it for dear life. Spots of darkness dance across your vision. Everything feels groggy and far away, as if at the other end of a long tunnel. While you fight to remain awake and upright, those specks continue to grow across your eyes, blocking all else out as they begin to stitch together into a blanket of shadow.
Salt stings your tongue. Bitter tears slowly roll down your cheeks. They mix with the iron tang of blood, and you can taste both coupled on your lips. It might be the end. You're not sure. Do you even care anymore? The answer is becoming more blurred with each passing second, just like your hazy thoughts. You can feel yourself weakening. Giving in.
Just as you think you're about to go - to lose yourself to the darkness - a pair of hands settle on your hips. They are large. Warm and firm. Lifting you back onto your unsteady feet in a movement that seems nearly effortless, and helping you turn around. The light overhead sears through your heavy-lidded eyes. You can barely make out the towering silhouette past them. Not when blood drips into your eyes, and a fresh wave of nausea threatens to cramp your stomach.
Through the ringing in your ears, you can hear a voice. Soft and caring, but underlied with something strange. "Baby? Baby, are you alright?"
Gasping, you blink away the tears and blood, and finally, a face swims into focus. That beautiful, familiar face. One that you never expected to see alive again.
A hoarse breath catches in your throat, and your words come out as nearly a wheeze. "Ransom?"
He doesn't have the time to answer before your eyes roll back in your skull, and you very nearly pass out on the spot. Instead, he makes a sound oddly akin to a chuckle as he catches you, stopping you from pitching to the floor. The noise confuses your already addled mind, cogs turning to make sense of it. No. It couldn't be. He wouldn’t be laughing. Not at this moment.
The confused intenral monologue abates as strong arms wrap around your waist, and then you are hoisted up. Thrown over his shoulder so that your head slumps upside down upon his back. The world sways weightlessly as he begins to move. Dimly, you are aware of being carried. Such knowledge only makes you start to cry. A mixture of hope and relief bubbles in your chest.
Ransom is alive, and he's going to get you both out of this nightmare.
Footsteps pad lightly down the corridors. Ransom shifts, and the sound of a door kicking open reverberates. You expect to feel the brush of the cold autumn breeze across your face. An unmistakable signal of freedom. That doesn't happen. Why?
Instead, your boyfriend places you down upon the bathroom counter, right next to the sink. It's hard, but the solid ledge provides a reassuring hold for your unsteady form, and your fingers curl weakly underneath it. One of Ransom's arms stays around your waist, holding you up like a doll, but the other rises. Firm fingers guide your chin upwards to the light as keen blue eyes examine your face.
His lips twitch. It must be the injury. Must be the blow to your head, and the obvious concussion that accompanies it. It has to be, because Ransom couldn't be smirking right now. His head dips, and when his face raises, the ghost of a smile is gone. You must have imagined it, just like the laugh before. Your own hands lift to tangle within the fabric of his dark shirt. It's soft underneath your grip, and provides reassurance. No. You’re right. He wouldn’t be smiling right now.
But there’s something wrong here. It's hard to put a definitive finger on it in this state. All that you can think is that it's about Ransom. Maybe? It’s hard to remember. Nearly impossible, when your fucking head hurts so much.
Gently holding your face, Ransom twists it carefully - examining your injury with a gaze that is brightly curious. Almost shining. Still, it lacks something. A soft hiss of sympathy escapes through his clenched teeth. Upon his forehead, a strand of usually well-groomed hair falls across his brow. Sweat glistens visibly upon the skin of his forehead. There's something about the unkempt sight that has you finally remember something.
“Ransom!” It barks from your lips, stronger and sharper than any previous utterance. Your fists tighten in his clothes, a strange shifting meeting your ears as you shake him, fumbling as you weakly attempt to push him off. “We have to go! We have to get out of here!”
Fingers grip your wrists. The hold is nearly tight enough to bruise. Ransom pins your arms to your side with ease. The mere act only serves to addle your further - knocking away the confidence with which you had previously been filled with. That distant, stammering confusion wells up again. Dizzying, thick, and all consuming. Leaving you with nothing but a vague sense of bafflement, and a reverberating pain that you cannot form rational thought beyond.
But there’s something else. That prickling knowledge won't go away completely. No. Something else, something about...
“Ransom?” you repeat weakly. “Ran-”
It cuts off as his hand strokes down the back of your head, running through your hair. A murmur rumbles from his chest, low and comforting, as he tips you inward. The embrace is warm and solid. You should be thankful. You should feel safe. But you don’t - not quite - and the reason why is growing more distant with each passing second.
His fingers accidentally brush against the throbbing spot on the side of your head. A small cry barks from your lips in response to the bolt of pain that laces through you at the contact. It’s nearly enough to reel you straight back into painful oblivion once again, but you fight the sensation. Dimly, you are aware of something else.
Ransom’s arm slides around your back again. Muscles bunch, and you are pulled nearly all the way forward in one smooth motion. Drawn to the edge of the sink, and closer to his chest, to where he stands between your parted legs. The action has you reeling, head lolling back weakly towards the ceiling. Those spots of nothingness dance before your eyes, growing. Stitching themselves together as your eyelids slip shut. Past the struggle to remain awake, only two things register.
First is your boyfriend’s rough voice whispering in your ear, low and reassuring, but edged like a knife. “It’s okay, sweetheart. I’ve got you. It’s okay.”
The slow descent of his other hand trailing down your body is the second. It would have made you pause, if that is something you were even capable of. What? You moan, disoriented and confused, trying to stop him as his hand slides below the front of your dress. Ransom presses in closer, and his mouth ghosts down the side of your neck.
Warm lips trail over your skin. There's a heated flick as his tongue darts out, lapping at something. Upon drawing back, red smears the side of his mouth. A strange sensation ripples over you as his fingers brush across the covered mound of your cunt. It's part revulsion and part exhilaration.
You know the latter well - it always comes in response to his touch - but the former raises the faintest prickle of alarm bells. Distant warning thrums at the back of your mind, but you can’t place why.
Ransom's breath hitches as his fingertips delve underneath your panties. Another soft moan escapes your lips as the pad of his thumb slides through your folds. They part easily underneath his touch, separating like petals. He ducks in to meld his mouth to yours just while simultaneously pushing two fingers inside your centre. They slip deep within, burying the digits nearly up to their knuckles.
Despite the addled state of your mind, it's hard to ignore the bliss that his touch brings. Ransom knows exactly how to touch you. How to make you sigh and whimper as he pumps within. Those careful fingers are half-curled, but he guides them so deep, allowing you to feel just how much of you can be filled with his hand alone. It draws another low mewl from you, and he inhales it hungrily.
His kiss is intense. Nearly frightening. It threatens to steal the breath from your lungs, and to suffocate you right here and now. You have to break away, panting and struggling to remain upright. It grows harder with each pump of his hand - an action that increases in speed with each passing second. He hits the mark inside of you again and again, repeating until your hands have raised to claw amidst the strange fabric of his shirt, and you can feel that familiar heat beginning to coil in your stomach.
Just when you think that he's going to bring you over that peak - guiding you to burst over his fingers - they slip free. It leaves you shocked. Cold, and almost sobered, but that allows you a split second to regain some of your old composure and clarity. It allows you to remember that there is something wrong, and there's something wrong with-
"Ransom," you moan, once again stirring to fend him off.
There's no opportunity. Not when his hands lower to fumble below the frayed fabric at the end of his cloak to pull his cock free from the confines of their black trousers. Something screams in the back of your mind, but it is washed away when he realigns himself only a moment later, swollen cock at your entrance, before pushing inside with another violent hiss. A sharp sting persists as teeth clamp on your shoulder. Murmuring broken protests, you try to tell him, 'no.' That it hurts.
You're not sure if he hears it, but the pressure releases a moment later, and those soft lips seek out yours again. Ransom kisses you while thrusting. Stroking himself into your core as you perch on the edge of the bathroom sink, clinging to him for dear life. Everything is blurry and unfocused. Dizzy. His relentless pace doesn't allow you a second of relief from the constant state of disorientation, and in doing so, keeps whatever it is that you're struggling to remember at bay. Not that you can even think about that. It's impossible to register anything beyond the silken plunge of his cock.
He feels so good within your walls. Stretching you perfectly, and long enough to have you feel every inch of him. It's a wonder that you'd thought that you could live without it. Without him. Ransom Drysdale is like a drug, and you are an addict. As much as you may wish that you weren't, especially in your more rational moments.
But those are gone now. Batted away by the blows sustained to either side of your skull. Knocked aside by a concussion that keeps you weak and pliable, so easily held and fucked in his family bathroom. A place that the faint intuition within screams that you should flee from. Christ.
His arm snakes around your back once more. Ransom guides you even closer, until you are pressed right up against him. Utterly flush. It allows him to hoist your right leg onto the counter, looping it over his arm. Clearing the way to only drive himself into you harder. Increasing his pace until he is pounding into your cunt, driving the air from your lungs as his shoulder jars into the point above your chest. Dominant and merciless, just like you know him to be.
A man who doesn't care much for anything beside his own wants. It's why you'd debated leaving him in these recent months. Why you'd been drawn to another, softer man.
What is his name again?
Swiftly, Ransom's cock builds you right up to the edge once more. Forcing you there, until broken cries are lifting into the high-ceiling bathroom, echoing off the tiled floors. He fucks you as hard as he possibly can, watching intently through narrowed eyes and gritted teeth. His jaw clenched - twisted into a snarl - and for a moment, you could nearly swear that he looks like he hates you.
The thought shatters as you release. The orgasm tears through you, ushering forth a shuddering wail, and you can feel the clench of your walls. They flex upon his cock, squeezing him. Nearly begging to be coated in his own release, just as your mind almost bursts into a hazed abyss. Your ears ring, the whine building to a crescendo as you cry and shake, all the while feeling the harsh snap as he continues to rock against you, violently pursuing his own release.
"Knew you'd take it," he snarls, and you can feel the graze of his teeth on your throat as he shift further in, gripping the underside of your thighs to lift you up and pound you harder. "You little bitch. Did you really think that Daniel could ever fuck you like this?"
And that's when it finally happens.
Those pieces of shattered thoughts pull together in one glimmering moment of stone-cold clarity. A knowledge that turns the blood to ice within your veins, and has your hands clench on the fabric of his shirt. Except it's not a shirt. It's the same long, black, cloak that the killer wore, and your boyfriend's handsome face replaces the elongated and crude white plastic of the mask. Everything comes together, and you know.
Ransom is not dead. He's not lying on the study floor with a knife in his chest. There's no mark there at all. It was fake. A trap. Because Ransom's not another victim.
He's the killer.
You go to push him off you. To fight and to scream, but he seizes your wrists again before you can even move. Pulling them against his chest in a rock-hard grip as a taunting smile lights his face and his words come in a dark, mocking tone. "Easy, sweetheart."
"Fuck you," you spit, struggling desperately. Trying to get away, and wildly attempting to cast him out of you. "Get off. Fuck you!"
"Oh, baby," he croons, but you can see by the hitch in his chest and the crazed light in his eyes that it is no use. "I already am. Fucking you, I mean. And stop that. There's no one left to hear you scream."
He pins your arms down at your side, holding them against the solid marble counter. The action pitches your body forward, and allows him to do what he's been striving to. One last time, those hips collide with yours. The head of his cock buries deep inside of you, filling you right to brim. Allowing no room for struggle or escape - and no chance to slide loose - as he comes with a feral cry.
You hate yourself for your body's reaction. How he strikes that already overstimulated spot, and the climax shakes through you with vigour. Rushing in time with his own bursting relief, until your cunt is nothing but a hot, sticky mess. His thick semen coats your insides, painting you in thick ropes, and a broken moan of both pleasure and horror grates from your chest.
Fuck. What have you done?
What has he done?
Regaining something - a tiny vestige of strength and composure - you try to push him away one final time. It’s suprising, but you manage to slip from his hold. However, it's not for long. Just momentarily. Those rough hands seize your shoulders, and he shakes you harshly. Just twice - and only for a split second, but it sends your already unsteady mind reeling right back into a wave of all-consuming dizziness. The strength flees from you instantly.
It has you slump back upon the mirror, fighting to stay conscious and struggling to peer past the relentless beating in your skull, just as Ransom slowly eases himself out of you. World swimming, you see double. Two Ransoms. Two reddened cocks emerging from your soaked cunt, but it joins together a few moments later. Refocusing just enough to allow you to watch weakly as he smirks, before scooping the escaping ooze of his release back inside of you.
His cum. His seed.
A shudder runs through you at the thought. Something wet rolls down your cheeks, and you blink, fighting away the pink-tinged smear of bloody tears from your vision.
Ransom killed Stephanie, and all the rest of your friends. Thomas. Riley. Leo. He killed Daniel, the man that you were debating leaving him for. The one that Steph had encouraged you to be with instead.
The nausea wells stronger than before, and you have to fight down the urge to retch. Your body aches, a mixture of the injuries that your boyfriend himself inflicted with that foul blow to your temple earlier, and as a result of the harsh fucking that he had given after.
He hurt you. He killed them.
"Why are you doing this?" you ask, voice cracking with a cacophony of rage, fear, and sorrow.
It doesn't seem like your Ransom who smiles back. He's not playful or mischievous. There's no sign of that usual teasing smirk. Whatever mask that he has worn so well over the many years finally drops, and all that's left is something savage and cruel in its place.
"Because I want to," he replies, as if it's the simplest thing in the world. "Because I can."
Unable to squirm away, you shudder in disgust as he trails a finger lightly over your cheekbone, leaning in so that the tip of his tongue can dart out, and taste the blood running down the side of your face once again. Leaning back, your boyfriend - the killer - only pauses to brush his lips briefly over yours, before drawing up to his full height and smiling coldly.
Ransom speaks again, and something murderous shines in the depths of his beautiful blue eyes. "Because they would have taken you from me. And now no one ever will ever try to again."
This is not your Ransom.
He isn't the one who you remember so fondly. The man that you fell in-love with on that sun-filled summer two years ago is gone, as simply and completely as if he just ceased to be.
Because that's the truth, isn't it?
It's something you know with just one look at his unmasked face. That you feel in the frigid shiver that runs down your spine. Prey in the claws of a predator. Trapped, with nowhere to run. It's the truth, as callous and cruel as that reality is. There's no one else to rely on. Just you, here alone with him.
Your Ransom never existed at all.
A/N: Well, let me know if you enjoyed. 💜 And please, everyone, be sure that you go and check out @boxofbonesfic if you enjoyed this! I absolutely love her fics, and she’s a phenomenal writer!
Thank you for hosting such a fun challenge, Bones!
Support your content creators! Likes, comments, reblogs are much appreciated. :)
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🧚🏻♀️✨Bippity boppity bow chicka wow oww! You’ve been visited by the Shameless Hoe Fairy, and now you must pick one fictional babe and share a hoe thought including the prompts: sleepy + quiet purr of satisfaction. 😏 Go on and spread those shameless hoe vibes & your legs 😘
My my. The shameless hoe fairy?! I thought she was nothing but a legend until this day! Haha! Thank you for this Siri! It’s lovely to see you in my inbox. 😚💗
Okay I decided to fit this little Drabble in my “insufferable Rapture” universe. Forth and most recent instalment out now. Shameless self promo but you can find it here 😌😏
18+ Only under the cut, minors DNI. Warnings: Explicit language, explicit sexual content, vaginal fingering, frenemies au, College au, soft ass Ransom.
You were woken up by the rude smack of your forehead against your text book. Your head falling forward into the pages as you fought sleep with every fibre of your being.
“Fuck, I thought you said reading in bed would help me focus better.” You narrowed your eyes at Ransom, who was watching a movie on his laptop as unbothered as ever.
You had an important quiz the next day, and life had a way of making jokes, because Ransom and yourself ended up getting paired up.
“I was kinda hoping you’d fall asleep and get your bad juju outta here.” You rolled your eyes at his emotionless voice, groaning as you shut the book and chucked it across the room and on the desk beside your bed in protest.
“Im such an idiot, watch me fail tomorrow.” You huffed as you sat up from the bed, preparing to walk back over to your desk and continue studying. Swallowing your pride and immediately backtracking.
“Okay… Jesus what did your parents do to you growing up?” How could he be so unbothered before a test? You smacked him on the head as he pushed you back against your mattress. With how tired you were it wasn’t difficult to get you to lay down.
He propped himself up against the headboard with some pillows, winking at you as he spoke. “It’s okay kitten, I guess we’re two sides of the same coin.” He pulled you to lay against his chest, your nose nuzzling his neck.
“Hugh I need to study.” Your words contradicted your actions because you were melting into Ransom’s warm touch. His right hand rubbing soothing circles on your back and his left moving to hike your leg around his waist.
“Just shut the fuck up, it’s two am, you’ve studied enough.”
“I wanna sleep but I can’t.”
He pressed a kiss to your temple, his hands kneading your flesh and playing with the hem of your sleep shorts. You let his hands roam your body, relaxing into his touch.
Eventually you felt his hands slip under your panties, hovering over your mound.
“Hugh. I don’t have the time or the energy to fuck.”
“You don’t have the energy to study either.”
You sighed contently as Ransom’s fingers slipped along your folds, spreading your growing wetness. Your eyes closing with a mix of satisfaction and exhaustion.
His fingertips rubbed gentle circles on your aching nub, occasionally dipping to your soaking entrance, teasing you ever so slightly. Your quiet whines and breathy sighs beside his ear consumed him completely.
Your muscles relaxed as the tension left them, and you nuzzled further into Ransom’s hold. Drifting in and out of sleep as he worked you over with his touch.
You let out a quiet purr of satisfaction as he slipped two digits into your weeping entrance. So slow but surprisingly not agonising. You were coming to enjoy the gentle laziness of it all.
His fingers pumped into your tight channel, and you felt him muffle groans as you clenched and pulsed around his fingers, soaking them in your slick.
He curled his fingers inside of you, his fingertips brushing your sweet spot over and over as you leisurely climbed the steep hill of climax.
You barley noticed you were cuming. Your body tensing up one second and going slack against Hughs the next. He worked you through your high, thumb rubbing at your clit and fingers stroking your throbbing walls as your sleepy moans and whines reached their peak and completely subsided.
You were in a daze, so much so you didn’t even notice him tuck you in and stuff the “divider” pillow you two used to “mark your territory” anytime you slept over at each other’s between you.
Unexpectedly you felt a little fuzzy inside. Like you were floating on a cloud. You would never say it out loud. But he did help. “Good night Hugh.”
“Good night kitten, and don’t worry, if anyone has a bigger ego than me it’s you. We’re gonna do great tomorrow.”
“You know what you ass-”
I love these two so much pls save me. Thank you Siri for this. It was so fun. And I’m sorry I’m so late to it. Life has been kicking my ass recently. 💗😚
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why do i get major OTP! ransom vibes with this 😶
Yes, yes, yes!!! I love when y’all send me porn!! And this is so them.
I’ve got some thots below the cut 🥵
“Fuck, I’ve been waiting to get you out of this thing all night.” Ransom pulled at the zipper of your dress as soon as you walked into the house, his lips insistent as they brushed over your neck.
“I know, I could feel that thing poking me in the ass ever since we walked into the place.” You cupped his bulge through his tux pants and grinned when he groaned for you. “Did you even catch any of the opera or were you just humping the air the whole time?”
“I don’t know what you expect when you wear shit like this.” He let out a deep sigh when he finally got the gown unzipped and let it slide to the floor, at least until he got a look at what you were wearing underneath your dress. “Goddamn it, baby, we’ve talked about this.”
“Fuck’s sake, do you have any idea how annoying your whining is? Calm your fucking tits.” You rolled your eyes as you shoved him further into the house, ignoring his pout while he stared at the pantyhose you had on. “I remember our talks, that’s why these are crotchless.”
“Oh, really?” His lips spread in a slow grin as you started undoing his tie, ignoring your warning glare when he snapped your waistband before leaning forward to lick at your throat.
“Yes, I’m willing to compromise.” You bit your lip when he slid his hand between your legs, purring when he groaned into your neck as he felt how soaked you were. “Lie down.”
“Right here?” He did what you said when you got his shirt open and peeked at him through your lashes, running your fingers through his chest hair as you moved to straddle him slowly and undid his belt.
“What a dumb question, as if there’s any surface is this house we haven’t fucked each other on.” You chuckled softly when he just shrugged at you with a lazy smile, his hands skimming over your hips until he was gripping your waist. “Got a treat for you, baby.”
“If it’s not that pussy, I’m gonna be pissed.” He dropped his head back against the floor when you got his fly open and slid down his body, pulling his slacks with you as you gave him a wicked grin before straddling his thighs while you slowly stroked his cock.
“It’s pussy adjacent.” You winked at him when he cocked his eyebrow at you, gripping his dick with one hand as you slipped forward a little, your slick coated pussy lips sliding over the base of his shaft and making him whine. “Gonna show you how nice panties can be, Ran.”
“We’ll see, fuck.” He sucked in a breath when you pulled the edge of the nonexistent crotch of your nylons out so you could slide his tip underneath them, the silky fabric keeping him pressed tight to your warm, wet folds as you started slowly grinding along his length.
You tucked your lip between your teeth and moaned softly when you found the perfect angle to rub him against your clit, reaching your gloved hand down to stroke him through the thin fabric. Ransom dug his fingers into your hips as he started guiding your movements, his body rolling underneath you while he let out those soft whines that made you clench around nothing.
He was so worked up from not being able to touch you all night that he was right there, the sight of your body writhing over him making his cock twitch against your pussy when you pressed a hand to his chest and leaned forward.
“See? Isn’t this nice.” You grinned down at him when his hands slid up to cup your breasts, speeding up your hips and squeezing his cock through the nylons when he groaned.
“Fuck, baby, ‘m gonna come.” He reached up to grip your hair and drag your face to his, smashing his lips against yours and whining into your mouth as you slid over him faster.
“I know, can feel you leaking all over me.” You gripped his hair by the roots and yanked his head back, nipping at the underside of his jaw and purring when he bucked his hips into you. “C’mon honey, make a mess for me.”
Ransom keened when he felt his balls tightening, wrapping his arms around your back and holding you close as he shot his cum all over the inside of your pantyhose. You moaned against his neck when you felt the sticky mess smear over your stomach, a shiver traveling up your spine when your cunt clenched around nothing and your release gushed around Ransom’s cock.
“God, you’re such a fucking tease.” He brushed his lips over your hair when you sagged against his chest, his face splitting in a smile when you tilted your head up to suck on his neck. “Maybe I’ll cut the crotch out of all of your panties.”
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Don't Be Late
Summary- 3.7k Ransom Drysdale x Kitten. Ransom invites you to Blood Like Wine, having something he wants to tell you in person. Of course when visiting Ransom, it's never quite just to talk and today he seems like he has a need for something only you can give him.
Warnings- This is a cheater fic. Oral sex, male receiving. This is an 18+ Blog only. Walt verbally abusing Ransom.
A/N- dedicated to @what-is-your-plan-today because she really wanted this particular scenario to happen, with a special line from Walt. Dividers made by @firefly-graphics
You sat on the opposite end of the couch as Neil. He had some of his court documents spread around while half watching Netflix with you. You had tried your hardest to get him to pick something to watch, hoping that perhaps you two could literally Netflix and chill if Neil made the effort to choose something to relax to.
But he pressed a friendly kiss to your forehead and declined, leaving it up to you to pick. Like always, because Neil wouldn't really pay attention to you or the television. The space between you was littered with files and him absently chewing on a pen while you stared at the screen seeing David complain about being dragged off into the woods on a hike by Patrick on Schitts Creek.
You've seen it a hundred times and some vindictive part of you chose it because Neil disliked this show. You happened to love it. It didn’t matter because Neil hardly looked up at the screen to give it much thought.
These nights you felt a bit more alone, isolated. It made you yearn for Ellie who would drop by with a bottle of wine and crash on your couch when you lived in Boston.
It made you crave even more for Ransom who would insist you be right next to him, trying to distract you from the show's story or if he was really into it, would be rambling right along with the television in his own version of commentary.
You glanced at Neil again and frowned slightly at yourself. This case was important to him and maybe he just needed a bit more encouragement then Ransom did. Maybe Neil just isn't picking up your signals to spend time with him. He was a busy man, busier than Ransom usually was.
Pushing up from the couch, you approached him and ran your hands over his shoulder till he tore his eyes away from the document. “Hey, how about you take a break?” You ask with a raised brow and you move to straddle his lap. “I miss you.”
He gave you a puzzled look. “I'm right here baby, so… But I really need to finish this.” He lifted the file he had been studying and you gave it another shot, leaning in and kissing him softly.
“No Neil… I really miss you.”
“I know baby, but I really got to do this. I promise to take care of you later, before bed.” He grasped your hips lightly to push you back to a stand. “I just got to be ready for tomorrow. How about you finish your show and I will go to my office so I can concentrate.”
You quickly blinked back a few tears, curling your arms around yourself. It was hard not to feel rejected right now.
“Um- sure, sorry Neil. I will be in bed in another hour or so.” You said with a quick smile as you plopped down on the couch and watched as he scooped his files up and tucked them under his arm to leave you all alone.
Naturally you turned to your phone, searching out for a connection. Ellie as always was down for a bitch fest.
Couldn’t even give you fifteen minutes? Bitch, I will be down there and rock your world. Teach him how to treat you.
I know El, I mean I didn't think it was asking for much.
Drop him 🙄 Then move back home. You can come stay with me till you find a place.
You hovered on Ellie's message a moment when you scrolled past her last one to Ransom.
Hey, what are you doing tonight?
Downtown Boston tonight, but Ronnie has me hanging with the dumbest fucks ever. What are you doing, Kitten?
Netflix and wine.
Should be Netflix and fuck Kitten.
Nope, not tonight.
It was several minutes before Ransom typed back. How about you come by Blood like Wine tomorrow? I'm going to be there all day and would love a break from having to listen to Walt bitch. Besides, I have to ask you something.
Oh? What would that be?
Surprise Kitten. Sit and spin on what it might be tonight.
Not even a hint?
Nope. Let me have my fun. I promise you will like it though.
Fine, what time.
230 Kitten, don't be late. 😉🍆
Smooth Ransom. You should scoff at his hint, but it has you biting your bottom lip excitedly.
You know you love it.
Setting your phone aside, you turn back to the tv, wondering what Ransom could possibly have to tell you and forgetting about Neil’s rejection. When you went to bed that night, you didn't even bother poking your head in Neils study and were fast asleep when he finally joined you in bed hours later.
Ransom was at his desk, currently going over a manuscript of Harlan's current work. In true fashion, Ransom knew that it would be a hit. His grandfather had a way with words that drew in any audience. Walt currently was pacing back and forth on the other side, nit-picking it apart.
“Dad always does this though, it's getting too predictable and he is going to lose readers.”
Ransom rolled his eyes and chose to ignore noting that particular comment in his notes. “Fuck Walt, Harlan is as renowned for his best sellers as other writers in his genre. He's not going to fucking lose readers. Besides, this killer is completely unpredictable and if you say otherwise, I’m calling you a fucking liar.”
Walt snapped his attention to Ransom lounging behind the desk. “Don't even start with me about this, you are wet behind the ears spoiled brat who knows nothing. I’ve been managing Dad's books for years.”
Ransom cocked his head, shrugging as he lazily leaned back in his chair. “Seems I know something since Granddad wanted me to come on to partner with you, as an equal.”
“Cause Dad felt sorry for you Ransom. Poor little Hugh who has no life skills. I let you come work here, make no mistake about that. I felt pity for you.”
It was just Ransom’s eyes that showed how pissed he was. His mask was cool, his smirk coy while he watched Walt, who was the opposite. Walt on the other hand was unable to hide his feelings, anger was apparent all over his face, the color rising along his neck and heated his face. “Sure you did Walt, you would have gotten this company up 20 percent in sales for hardcovers, worldwide. Wait… no, my connections got that, not yours. How about you keep trying to convince Harlan on that Netflix deal and sell out everything Grandad stands for. Harlan might be sick of listening to you and give in.” Ransom said dismissively while glancing at the time on his computer. “Now can you fuck off Walt? I have an appointment who will be here in a few minutes.”
“I'm your boss, you can't-”
“No you really fucking are not.” Ransom planted his hands on his desk and rose slowly, his tone turning darker with a warning. “Now get the fuck out…” Walt cowered slightly as he took a step back. “Before I fucking remove your gimp ass myself.”
Walt puffed his chest like a ridiculous ape, flicking a hand through his mop of curls to hide his discomfort at his nephew. “You can't-”
“I just did.”
“Whatever, we are not finished though Ransom.”
“Course we aren't.” A sneer curled Ransom's upper lip as he watched his uncle stumble out of the door.
After a few minutes of peace finally, having spent a whole morning with Walt, Ransom went back to the manuscript they had been going over when a gentle tentative knock sounded on his door.
“It’s unlocked.” He called out, making sure to save his work when he glanced up to see you slip in. His eyes softened when he saw you, slipping off your jacket and setting your bag in the chair nearby. “You are a sight for sore eyes, Kitten.” He rumbled out slightly as he pushed back his chair while you circled around his desk.
He wasted no time grasping the back of your thighs and pulling you in closer, making you stumble between his legs, your hands falling to his shoulders. “Whoa Ransom, what's got you in a rush.” You teased, your hands flexing against his shoulders and sweeping up to his neck to slide onto his cheeks to feel the smooth just shaved sensation he preferred.
Maybe it was Walt's insult earlier hitting Ransom harder than he thought. As much as he hated his family, besides Harlan and Great Nana, they all could fuck off for good. But there was still a part of him that hurt, the disgust they had for him somehow still managed to be a barb in him that was festering. He couldn't pull the infected hook out completely, he tried.
It also pissed him off.
“Do I need a reason?” He countered as his hands slid up the back of your skirt and cupped your bare ass, making him arch a brow. His worries start to fade in the background as you get a sly look, biting on your lip as he makes this discovery. “Kitten, you being a little slut for me today?”
“Maybe.” You pop your lips and lean in close to brush ruby red lips against his mouth. “How about I paint your cock today? Will that make you feel better?”
Your lips stretched around his cock? That would absolutely make him feel better, having you on your knees worshipping his cock really gave him a rush. Ransom immediately pushed down on your hips for you to fall to your knees between his spread thighs, his pants stretched to the max. Your hands fell to his buckle and started to unwind the leather from where it was clasped through the belt loop. Already he had tented slacks and a throbbing hard-on for you. “It always does, Kitten.”
Ransom let his eyes slide close, if there was anything he could enjoy and turn his brain off from the fuckery that was in his life, it was you. You with your perfect fuckable mouth and big eyes staring up at him like he was the greatest goddamn thing in the world. He wondered if you even know what that did to him. The way it made him feel like he was actually worth something. Even if it was only for a few minutes till life got in the way and you were yet again walking away.
Your hands circled his cock and eased him out, the relief of it made him take a deep breath while his hand rubbed on his thighs, for now, letting you do as you wanted before he took over and properly fucking your mouth like he knew you liked. The way you would slobber all over, those groans and gags that made your eyes water, well fuck he had a couple pictures on his phone of just how pretty you looked. He might need to take another one today, one of you under his desk sucking him off, probably make it his new lock screen.
A kitten lick along the underside of his shaft snapped Ransom back to attention, crealuen blue eyes looking down at you while you run the tip of your nose along his cock, inhaling his musky essence before your tongue flattened against him, trailing the thick throbbing vein to the tip where you purred swirling your tongue around him. One hand wrapped around the base, holding him in place, and the other rubbed at the inside of a roped thigh, teasing your way down to cup his balls.
Ransom knew your games, you always liked to tease, slap his cock off your lips before sucking him off, but today he was impatient, his hand fisting in your hair, and a single warning fell from him. “Open.” You didn't defy him, you didn't struggle or try to make him bend to your will.
You widened those pretty eyes at him and popped your mouth open, tongue hanging over the edge of your bottom lip to help guide him in. Your moan was sinful the way it came out of you with the way your lips stretched around him as he fed you his cock, flutters of your tongue encouraged him to continue while your hands wrapped around him to rub up and down him, stimulating him to thrust further into your mouth.
Fingers tightened in your hair, messing it up while he pressed you in closer. The hollowing of your cheeks squeezed your mouth around him, encasing him in a tight warmth that could almost be as good as your cunt squeezing and milking him. For whatever reason, he was gentle, even through the moment you felt him at the back of your throat when you gagged. It made you glare up at him.
You didn't want him to be gentle, you wanted Ransom to pound his frustrations out on your mouth and you sucked desperately on his cock as he pulled out of your wet mouth, hoping your look would let him know that was what you were expecting.
The sensation of sucking on his cock made him study you, your needy whine, and shuffle on your knees as you brought yourself closer to him. “Needing me to fuck your mouth hard Kitten?” He rumbled out and you nodded as much as possible with your mouth full of him.
Hands cupped your face and Ransom no longer let himself ease into you, instead, he made you his toy, making you take his cock down your throat while you hung onto his thighs, burying your nose into the trimmed curls at the base of his cock and moaning around him with demanding hums till you started to sputter when he held you on him till your lungs made you slap at him to pull back. “You are gonna fucking take it, Kitten. He groaned, the noises rising from him while he jerked you on and off him started to fill his office like some pornographic video. “Fuck this mouth is just perfect for fucking.”
His cock swelled, so wanting to release thick streams of cum down your throat, but he rather be buried in your pussy for that. Yanking you off of him, he pulled you up. “C’mere, need to be in that cunt.”
You scrambled to keep up, reaching to pull your skirt up around your hips while straddling Ransom's lap. It wasn't an ease into you sort of situation, and you hissed at the way he so suddenly lined himself up and buried into you. His mouth attached to your neck, and you were bucking on him almost immediately with your own lewd moans to add to the sound of his body fucking up into you. The desk chair you two occupied precariously rolled back, crashing into a shelf of Harlan's books behind you two, toppling down around the two of you while you both furiously fucked.
Hands grabbed at one another, yours pulled at Ransom's hair while you pulled yourself up and down on his cock, Ransom shoved your shirt up and buried his face in your breasts, kissing and biting on them as they were shoved in his face, he traveled up your collarbone to latch onto your neck while his hands had a tight grasp on your jutting hips, pulling you back down harshly while he angled his cock just right.
The gasp falling from you while your cunt clenched around him so tight, fisting velvet walls around him to hold onto him let him know that he was hitting you just right. “Fuck Ransom, yes… fuckfuckfuck!”
A pounding cut through the haze of you two wrapped in one another. A heavy thudding on the door while a silhouette pressed against the fogged glass trying to look in. Walts’ voice was a jarring nuisance in your lust-filled symphony that Ransom literally growled against your lips hearing it. “Ransom, what the hell is going on in there? We can hear you out here.”
“Ignore him.” You gasped against his mouth before your tongue plunged in, the kiss a messy gasp between you two.
“What the fuck Ransom?! OPEN THE DOOR.” The handle jiggled, Ransom was counting his blessings that you had snapped the lock when you came in. Another set of pounds interrupted you and Ransom pried himself away from your chasing lips, slamming you on him one last time with a grunt from both of you.
“Fuck off Walt, I’m in my fucking meeting!”
“What kind of meeting is this?”
You started to suck kisses on Ransom's neck, biting at the tense tendons flexing there as he tried to focus on you and answer his bastard uncle at the same time.
“The kind you get your dick sucked off Walt, FUCK OFF.” Ransom fisted his hand in your hair, yanking your head back so he could see your desperate face, the one that had you begging him to finish you. Your eyes fluttered back in your skull as your hips bucked on his cock. “Just like that Kitten?”
“Fuck Ransom, I’m gonna cum so hard on your cock.” You didn't even try to hide what you were saying while Walt started screaming on the other side of the door.
“This is a place of business Ransom! Not for you to fuck whores.”
Your eyes screwed shut, the incessant screaming of Walt driving you mad while you tried chasing your ending. “Oh god Ransom, I’m gonna cum!” The chair slammed back once more, crashing more books off the shelf falling around you two while you screamed Ransom's name.
“I'm going to call the cops, I’m dialing right now.”
This made you scream while Ransom still pounded himself in you, your head turning to look over your shoulder. “Call them Walt and I will make you regret that. Get the fuck out of here. This is my time to get some dick!” It ended up being you who scared him off this time.
There was a sputtering of curses that faded away till all you could hear was Ransom chasing his own ending, puffs of air and curses falling from him as you felt his cum fill your cunt and you both sagged in the chair. Your head buried against his shoulder and panting slightly to catch your breath.
Before you knew it you started giggling, hiding your face while Ransom snorted in a similar fashion, tilting his head back to look down at you. “Your time to get some dick?”
“I was your fucking meeting, are we making that an actual thing now?” you teased back while burying your nose in closer to him, still enjoying the high of your orgasm.
“When pussy is this good, fuck yes.” Ransom pressed a kiss to your forehead, obviously his words had more meaning than that, but you didn't ask for them. You knew just as much as he did. So you two let the silence wash over you. Ransom tracing patterns up your back till you shifted to sit up, making him groan at your pussy flexing around his soft dick. “Could just stay inside of you.”
“Tempting Ransom.” You smirked and cupped his face, to admire his features, your eyes falling to perfect pink lips that you knew tasted of sinful ideas and back up to bright blue eyes that seemed hopeful. You closed the gap and let yourself kiss him slowly, perfectly. “Was this what you wanted to tell me?”
His arms circled around your waist, keeping you there among the mess you two had made of his office. “Harlan wanted me to extend you an invite. He is having a small get together to celebrate the launch of his new book. He wants you there.”
You hummed at his words while fixing Ransom's hair from where you had gripped at it while riding him. “I’m surprised he asked for me to come? Course I will be there, what day is it?” The way he smiled made your heart clench, knowing it was making him happy that you would be coming to the party.
“Well I happened to mention you the other day while I was having lunch with him and he insisted on inviting you to come to his party.”
It was a couple hours when Ransom had you leave out the back way from his office, not wanting you to have to deal with Walt, who the both of you had heard stalking back and forth the front of his office in his gimping shuffle.
He let his uncle simmer for another hour before he opened his office door, it wasn't long after Ransom was back to reading the manuscript when Walt darkened his doorway, the anger coming from him filling the small space like a coil tightened too far, about to snap.
“I don't know what you think this is Ransom, but this is your grandfather's legacy that you are just fucking around on. Who the hell was that? Your whore? You know the reputation you have bringing a bitch like that around here. Just to get your dick wet? Do it in your own time.” Walt sneered.
Ransom ignored him for now, flipping to the next page and continuing reading the manuscript while Walt came closer, leaning down to yell in Ransom's ear. “DO YOU HEAR ME YOU FUCKING WASTE OF SPACE?!”
A toss of the manuscript had Ransom surging to a stand, making Walt stumble back into the doorway nearby in surprise, a cock of Ransom's head made him look intimidating as his eyes narrowed at Walt. “Loud and clear Walt… me getting pussy seems to really bother you. I assume you are not getting enough from your wife?”
"Be careful what you say boy, that is your aunt." Walt once more puffed up, his own gaze narrowing at him. “How much do you pay for it, Ransom? The only way you ever get anyone over here, she bring you your latest bunch of designer drugs so you can get high here as well? As soon as Dad hears about this, you're done. Proving what a waste you really are, draining the family resources.”
Ransom braced his hand against the door to his office, the words that hours ago would have stung and put him in a rage had no effect on him right now. His time spent with you put him back in a better mind space, able to deal with the daily shit his family dealt on him. “Best pussy you will never ever get Walt, how about you go beg your wife to have some pity on that limp dick of yours. Oh, and eat shit.” With that, he snapped the door shut in his uncle's face.
Walt sputtered on the other side, the best comeback he had was flung at the shut door, his words muffled as he screamed them from the other side.
“I’m not eating one iota of shit Ransom!”
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The Second Choice
Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x mermaid!Reader (A Spin on The Little Mermaid #3)
Summary: As the rebellious Princess of the Mers, you wanted the best of both worlds. You chose to live your life with endless adventures on land while still being able to fulfill your duties to the crown. Ransom just happens to feature in many of your adventures.
Warnings: 18+ ONLY SMUT CONTENT. so much adult language, cocky Ransom, unprotected semi-public fucking in human form, anal, degradation, praise, squirting, overstimulation, spanking, choking, ANGST, dubcon breeding, unprotected monster fucking, FLUFF, soft boy Ransom
Word Count: 8.1k (One Shot)
A/N: I did not expect this to turn out this way. I set out to write something completely different for Ransom but here we are. Enjoy! You don't need to read the first two, but it is recommended so that you can have a more wholistic experience with the lore and how they all connect together.
No permission is granted to repost, translate, or steal my work. Tumblr is the only place I post my writing. If you see it anywhere else please report it.
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Autumn has to be your favorite season and you prefer to spend it on land. There was nothing like laying down on a beach lounger with the cool salty ocean breeze blowing wrapped in a knitted sweater and sipping on a hot drink. You sighed happily as you sank down further on your lounger, stretching your legs out and wiggling your toes. Your short skirt blew with the wind and tickled your thighs as you stared fondly at the crashing waves of your private beach property in Malibu. You mulled over your life and your Kingdom underwater as you often did on quiet nights like this.
The second choice.
Being the second child of the Queen of the Seas earned you a certain level of privilege. It came with the title of royalty, a precious princess to the kingdom. It came with the respect of your species and the protection of the warriors, but you were always the second choice. Thank the gods for that. You were more than happy to revert all of that responsibility over to your older half brother Steve.
An heir and a spare.
Crown Prince Steven was by all means the epitome of a future King, exemplary in combat and sharp in wit with a natural inclination for leadership. You were the spare. Just like your mother was for your Uncle Andy. Unlike your family, you disagreed with many Merfolk traditions and you were considered as different.
A wild card.
One important thing you disagreed with was the treatment of humans. You knew the significance and you understood that it was essential for survival, but you were always conflicted and you refused to directly participate. Still your love and loyalty for your kind was strong and you were still duty bound. So you delegated yourself to a task not many wanted but one where you found purpose in.
That was what they called this role, held by only a few since it was established. Since the Merfolk population was limited, everyone had a part to play. Yours was to be the link between land and sea. Early on your ancestors realized that your people needed a way to navigate the human world, a way to ensure safety when on land and resources to use. You held your hand out in front of you, the precious stones and luxurious metals glittering with the soft light of your backyard.
There was no shortage of riches from the sea, riches apparently that humans were willing to pay hefty amounts for. Your ancestors partnered with a poor fishing couple who were good of heart, but desperately struggling to feed their children. The agreement was that this family help the Merfolk on land and to keep their existence a secret in exchange for unlimited riches for generations to come and the protection of the Merfolk. From this partnership grew a global conglomerate that was now a household name for high end jewelry and ocean conservation.
The profit and influence from this company enabled your people to live and move comfortably on land. Your job was to maintain the relationship with your human partners and to ensure all Merfolk that came on land were well equipped and safe. They went to you first and you ensured safe passage for them.
You took a long sip from your drink, letting the warmth spread through your body with a satisfied hum. It has been a busy week for you with the launch of a new line of designs and a slew of promotional parties. There was still more work to be done so it was nice to have time to relax.
So deep in thought were you and in a comfortable cocoon that you didn’t realize a large shadow slowly drawing nearer behind you. If you were paying more attention, you would have heard the soft click as your back door opened. You would have heard the light padding of expensive loafers. You would have caught the scent of designer cologne.
It wasn’t until a hand clamped over your mouth that your body went on high alert. Your cup flew out of your hand and smashed against the wood of the deck, your screaming muffled by the hand. Your heart pounded frantically as you thrashed in an effort to be released. An amused chuckle halted your struggle and the smirking face that lowered to your view turned the fear to exasperated annoyance.
“Ransom, you fucking asshole!” you shrieked as you smacked his arm repeatedly. “You scared me!”
“You should have seen your face,” he laughed as he sat down beside you, pulling you onto his lap to kiss you breathless. “Your housekeeper let me in before she left.”
One hand was on the back of your head, keeping you in place as he continued to kiss you. You moaned as his tongue battled with yours, his forcefulness sending heat to your core immediately. His other hand was gripping your hip, moving you to press closer to his growing erection.
“You’re such a dick,” you mumbled, as he moved his mouth to your neck.
“You like this dick,” he chuckled, lifting you to properly straddle him and angling his hips to grind against you. “You miss this dick.”
He wasn’t wrong. He was a cocky dick but he gave good dick. Ever since you met him a couple of years ago at a party in Massachusetts, you couldn’t help but find his arrogant snarky personality entertaining. He was so brashly honest and uncaring of what other people thought of him that you found it oddly appealing as you traded witty comebacks back and forth. It helped that he also looked delicious and you just happened to need someone to warm your bed that night.
What was meant to be just a one night stand turned into a habitual no strings attached arrangement when three months later you saw each other again by chance at another party. You only got as far as the ballroom’s ornate bathroom that time and it took a while for your legs to be able to support you much to his smug satisfaction. From then on whenever you were in the same city, you sought each other out.
“You’re wet already, aren’t you?” he said as his hand slipped beneath your skirt, his thumb sneaking under your panties and swiping against your folds. “Dripping. I could probably just shove my cock in this pussy with no fight.”
“Ransom,” you whined, your hips moving in search of more friction.
“Impatient little brat. I’ve barely touched you and you’re already so desperate for my cock.”
“Fuck me or get the fuck out of my house, Ransom.”
He chuckled when your threats melted into sighs as he pushed his thumb inside you, shallowly fucking you in a way that was no where near enough. He loved to tease you. A big part of what turns him on about you is how you fight back, meeting his own demanding nature with your own stubborn one. Getting a win over each other was sometimes better than the orgasm that follows, but nothing compared to the image of having you an angry whimpering mess beneath him.
He pulled his thumb out and popped it in his mouth, making a show of twirling his tongue around your arousal that was coating his finger. He kept your gazes locked the whole time, noting how your breath hitched and your eyes darkened.
“Still the sweetest pussy I’ve ever tasted,” he hummed. “Quiet now, aren’t you?”
The small growl you let out amused him to no end and he wanted to keep riling you up, but the tightening in his pants was becoming urgent. He smacked your ass and dumped you back on the lounger before he stood.
“Hands and knees.”
You wanted to let out a sharp remark or roll your eyes at his commanding tone, anything to antagonize him but the sight of his big beautiful cock out made your mouth water. You maneuvered yourself around just as he asked, opening your mouth for him in anticipation.
“Good girl,” he said, running the tip of his cock lightly along your lips. “Show me how much of a whore you are for this cock.”
He slipped his cock into your mouth, easing in until his full length was hitting the back of your throat. He let out a long low groan, one hand firmly on the back of your head to keep you in place. His pace started slow until he was thrusting into your mouth with the sole purpose of using you for his pleasure.
“Fuck. That's right. Take that cock just how I taught you.”
You relaxed your throat and flattened your tongue, staring up at him to encourage him to be rougher with you. You can take it. You could always take him. Watching him lose himself in your mouth made your pussy clench, his eyes burning with lust and his jaw ticking. You rubbed your thighs together to ease the ache between your legs. You couldn’t help it. He just looked so good with that feral look in his blue eyes. Blue eyes that now flashed in anger down at you.
You felt his fingers dig into the back of your head as a resounding crack shocked you forward making you choke on his cock, your bottom stinging from two more quick slaps that followed. You yelped, the sound garbled and muffled as you were pressed close to his pelvis. His fingers forcing their way inside you with no warning.
“Greedy. Little. Brat.”
Each word was punctuated with a sharp jerk of his hips and a twist of his fingers inside you. Your slick was dripping down your thighs and soaking his hand, your pussy was pulsing and clenching. More. You needed more. Your hips began to wind and push against his hand earning you a dark chuckle from above you.
“You’re just such a desperate slut, aren’t you?” he said, his tone mocking you.
He groaned as you swallowed around him, your eyes meeting his and glinting with mischief. You knew how to press his buttons too. He pulled himself out of you suddenly and grabbed you by the neck to raise your face to his, spit shining around your mouth and chin.
“That how you wanna play today, princess?”
You smirked, the nickname carrying a certain irony given how Ransom didn’t know how accurate it actually was. You leaned your face closer and ran your hands up the soft texture of his sweater, fearlessly meeting his fury to nip on his plump bottom lip before slowly pulling back and winking devilishly at him.
The growl he let out sent a new wave of arousal through you, the electricity buzzing down your spine as he crashed his lips to yours in a messy kiss. You moaned against his mouth, gasping as he pushed you off him. He manhandled you until you were on all fours again with your ass up for him, ripping your skirt and panties off in one go. He kept your loose cable knit sweater on though, loving how soft you felt all over.
You jolted forward as you felt him spit on your cunt, spreading it around with your slick up to your puckered hole. His thumb slipped in with little resistance and your body sagged as you welcomed it.
“Ransom,” you whined.
He hummed. Toying with your back entrance as he rubbed the head of his cock against your soaking core. Your pussy wept and clenched, your whole body screaming to be stuffed. The moment the head of his cock breached you, all thoughts flew out of your mind except for the feel of his girth stretching your walls in a way no other man or merman has ever done for you.
“God, you’re tight,” he grunted as he bottomed out. “But you’re taking me so well, princess. Like you’re made to take this cock.”
“More. Harder, Ransom,” you moaned.
He tutted at you as he continued with his infuriatingly languid pace, one hand gripping your hip to keep you locked in place. The bruises will be a nice thing to wake up to tomorrow. His thumb in your ass kept pressing in, contributing to your pleasure but it still wasn’t enough.
“Come on, princess. You know what to say.”
“Fuck!” you screamed as he rolled his hips, reaching deeper inside you and building up that fire inside you just a bit more. “Just fuck me harder, you goddamn prick.”
“You know what I wanna hear,” he chuckled. Another roll of his hips and your legs were starting to quiver with the tension. “Say it.”
“Please,” you muttered under your breath.
The hand on your hip gripped tighter and his hips snapped sharply, the sound of your skin meeting drowned by your yelp. “Say it louder.”
You gritted your teeth, your stubborn head telling you to disobey. Your body was shaking now, teetering over the edge of an almost orgasm. Another sharp thrust, pushing hard into both your holes, had your resolve crumbling.
“Please, Ransom. Take me harder, please.”
You turned your head and caught the slow smirk curve on his face and the excitement of knowing rippled through you. All at once his pace changed drastically, pounding into you until you were practically falling through the lounger. You screamed your pleasure into the night, falling instantly into your first orgasm.
“Good girl,” he panted from behind you, his thrusts not slowing even as you continued convulsing beneath him. “Keep going.”
The smug bastard kept fucking you through to another rippling orgasm, his thumb joined now by another finger to prep you for what he wanted next. He bit down on his lip to stave off his own release, but your walls pulsing around him and your mewling was making it difficult. He grabbed you by the neck and pulled you up flush against him as he pulled out of you, your weakened body grateful for the support.
His cock was glistening with your cum, aiding in his entrance through your puckered hole. His hand around your throat tightened, just as tight as your walls around his cock. You felt his hot breath around your ear as he groaned in satisfaction. His other hand trailed down your overheated body to spear his fingers through your weeping core. The curses and pleading just kept spilling from your lips.
“This is how you like it. Right, princess?” he said as his fingers pushed and tapped relentlessly inside you, hitting that spongy spot that had your eyes rolling to the back of your head. “You like me stuffing both your holes where the neighbors could just look out their windows and see how much of a slut you are for me? Come on then, princess.”
His hands and cock worked in complete synchrony to deliver you to your ruin; digging, prodding, scissoring, pushing, pounding, and choking you just right. Your sweater drooped down your shoulder and his mouth took it as an invitation to latch on, biting and sucking his stamp of ownership over you. You could feel the coil impossibly tighten, already on the brink of snapping completely.
“Make a mess for me.”
You keened sharply as ecstasy consumed you, your vision exploding with fireworks and tears. Your whole body shook violently with pleasure as your release continuously drenched the once pristine white cushion beneath you, his hand rubbing and slapping now at your throbbing clit.
"Fuck. That's it," he groaned. "Goddamn, you feel good."
You could vaguely hear the string of profanities and praise he let out as he railed into your ass in time with the thundering in your ears. He pulled you back with a hard bite down on your shoulder as he emptied himself inside you with a feral roar.
For a while, no words were exchanged between you. There was only heavy panting, heartbeats that struggled to slow, and hands that roamed lazily. He turned your head to catch your lips in a slow kiss that made you shiver. It was the complete opposite of the manner he just took you, but was always welcome. He pulled out of you and drew you back to sit between his legs, his hands slipping beneath your sweater to palm at your breasts with interest.
“I didn’t know you were in town,” you said as you leaned further back against him.
“Charles Blackwood was having a birthday party in LA. Got bored.” He tweaked your nipple and your back arched. “Knew I’d have more fun here.”
“Not enough strippers for your taste?” you teased. “How long are you here for?”
“About a week,” he whispered against your ear, nibbling on your lobe and sneaking his tongue in. “Glad I caught you before your annual trip with your family. Can’t have you craving my cock for too long.”
“Just in time then. I leave in two weeks.” Your hand reached behind to card through his hair, pulling and scratching lightly at his scalp. He groaned and grinded his hips forward, his manhood starting to grow again. “Plenty of time for you to put your smart mouth to better use. I have some business meetings but I’m mostly free.”
“Oh, princess. Don’t make plans just yet.” He pulled your sweater over your head and tossed it aside, before he lifted you up into his arms and into your house. You laughed against his neck, your arms clinging to him. “I’m not even halfway done with you tonight.”
He caught sight of a few loose pearls on the lounger that he just assumed must have gotten knocked off from one of the pieces you were wearing. They hardly registered when he had your willing body pressed against his.
He didn’t leave until noon the next day, leaving you thoroughly sated and sore, but it would be a couple of days later when he came back. You were busy arranging your things for the meeting you needed to get to, checking the essentia paperwork to bring and shoving your belongings into your purse.
Ransom walked in like he owned the place and grinned at the business attire you were wearing that highlighted your body perfectly. You were beautiful in anything you wore, there was a fiery radiance to you and a presence that was captivating, but seeing you dressed like this made you look powerful and in charge. His cock was already hardening and he hasn’t even touched you yet. He couldn’t wait to rip it off you.
“Hey, princess. Busy today?” he smirked as he sauntered over to you.
He abruptly halted before he could reach you when another man came into the room, dressed similarly to you and frowning at the tie he was struggling with in his gloved hands. He was tall and wide, built like a brick wall with icy blue eyes and sharp bone structure. Ransom noted that his hair was still damp, an obvious sign that he got ready here.
He scowled when their eyes met, a sudden wave of possessiveness taking him by surprise when the other man stood far too closely to you for his liking. You were oblivious to the death stare match they were having, too busy thinking of the tasks needed to be accomplished today.
“Ransom this is Bucky. Bucky this is Ransom,” you casually introduced them, taking the tie from Bucky and fixing it for him hurriedly. The intimate yet familiar gesture made Ransom’s jaw clench. “Wait for me in the car, Buck. I’ll be with you in a minute.”
“Are you sure, princess?”
Ransom growled at the use of the term. That was his pet name for you. It infuriated him how you didn’t even react to another man calling you that. You were by no means exclusive with each other. You weren’t dating. You also made no promises that this arrangement would lead to anything else. It suited you both since you weren’t ones to be tied down, but neither of you had seen the other with someone else.
It was hypocritical of Ransom particularly since he was still upholding his reputation as a playboy and you weren’t exactly waiting around for the next time your paths crossed. That was the deal, but Ransom never did do well with sharing. You weren’t his, but for the first time since he met you he thought that maybe he wanted you to be.
As soon as Bucky was out the door, Ransom’s furious expression was on you and his low snarl froze you on the spot. “Who the fuck was that?”
“What the hell is your problem? I told you that was Bucky.”
“Who the hell is Bucky?” he growled in your face. “Who is he to you, princess?”
You were surprised by this unexpected outburst and the venom in his use of the pet name made you flinch, but you weren’t one to back down. This princess bows to no one. You lifted your chin and met his gaze unflinchingly as the realization began to dawn on you.
Ransom was jealous.
Bucky was a Queen's Guard who regularly would check up on you and the other Merfolk onshore. This time around he also escorted a few of your people to you and helped send them on their way. This afternoon he was accompanying you to meet with the human family you were bonded with. He was also your older brother’s closest friend, a mainstay in your life since childhood. Ransom had no reason to be jealous of him, but you were in no mood to pander to his childish behaviour.
“He’s a family friend.”
“I can see just how friendly you two are,” he scoffed.
“What if we are?” you challenged him. “That’s none of your business.”
“Like hell it isn’t! Are you really that much of a cock hungry whore that you can’t even go two days without looking for something to fill your cunt?”
The crack of your hand as it met his cheek threw the room into a tense silence. Your chest rose and fell heavily as you struggled to control your indignation, hot tears stinging your eyes. Never had anyone spoken to you this way. Never had Ransom used those words on you with malice and you hated to admit to yourself that it hurt you more than you expected.
“You don’t get to talk to me like that. You don’t get to make me feel bad when you’re not exactly discreet about your conquests,” you shot back, mirroring the rage that was evident on his face. “You don’t get to judge me when your bullshit is splashed across gossip blogs on a regular basis. You even went viral for your dick pic on Instagram. Good for you.”
“You. Vicious. Little. Bitch.”
You sneered at how the veins on his neck were popping with each punctuated word. He was shaking with barely restrained fury, his fists clenched at his sides and a small bleeding cut on his cheek from the ring you wore on your hand that struck him. Good. If you weren’t so furious, you would have thought that anger just made him more attractive.
“You do not own me,” you spat, taking a confident step toward him. “Now if you’re quite done with your temper tantrum, I have a meeting to get to. You can wait here for me to come back in a few hours and we can talk when you’ve calmed down. ”
“You must be insane to think I’d wait here for you like some puppy.”
“Fine. Then don’t.” You threw your hands in the air in dismissal. “Don’t let the door hit you on the ass on your way out.”
You grabbed your things and marched toward the door. You looked at him one last time, your face turning oddly sad before you fixed it to one of icy indifference.
The door slammed behind you with a finality that echoed in the now empty room where he still stood. He wasn’t sure which was more bruised, his cheek or his pride.
You expected Ransom to not be there when you got back, but it still stung when you came home to an empty house. Out of all the many properties your kind owned on land this mansion was your favorite which was why you chose this as your permanent residence. Built and decorated with the thought that it was an extension of the sea, with its open spacious interiors in a coastal design and a backyard with a large pool that led to the private beach. It always felt comfortable and welcoming to you. It felt like home.
Now as your heels clicked on the wood floors, you feel for the first time how empty it was. Even as you opened more lights and drew back curtains, the large house still felt cold and you felt it seep into your chest. Your free spirited lifestyle ensured endless parties, countless interactions with humans, a freedom to travel as you wished, work that was a passion for you, and a string of lovers. You had the best of both worlds and the privilege to enjoy it to the fullest. You could hardly say that you were alone, but now somehow you felt lonely. Your chosen independence, just earlier filled with gratification, now left you feeling unfulfilled.
Was it really all because of Ransom?
The answer came almost two weeks later. Two weeks of constantly checking your phone for any calls or messages only to be disappointed because both of you were too prideful to reach out first. You suspected that he would have already gone home when a week went by and there was still no sign of him. The internet gossip blog you stumbled on confirmed it. You would deny to anyone who asked that you were looking for news about him. He was back in Massachusetts with a new girl on his arm at another party. It hurt. That you couldn't deny.
Yes. It was all because of Ransom.
A life of fun and endless possibilities, but with no one to share it with. It never bothered you before, but Ransom's absence from your life had more of an impact than you anticipated. He made you laugh with his ranting about his insufferable family. He complimented you on your new designs, always sending a quick congratulatory message on each new launch. He even challenged your decisions in business matters you had shared. He wasn't romantic but he had a habit of bringing you his favorite biscuits when he came to visit. He would say it was because you had subpar taste in after sex snacks, but he always ended up feeding you most of it and licking the crumbs from your lips. The sex itself was not just mind blowing, but he had opened you up to more exploration.
Despite how little time you actually spent together, you realize now how comfortable you were with him. You realize just how much you enjoyed his company, that you actually looked forward to it. You realize now that you surprisingly trusted that spoiled overgrown child of a man.
And you realize now that you were in love with him.
You groaned and cussed at yourself. It was absurd. You knew how stupid it was. It was also equally idiotic to have postponed your trip back to your kingdom in the disillusioned hope that he might still call you. Your spirit was waning and your body was terribly weakened, your magic struggling to maintain your human form.
You stripped off your clothes and elegantly dove into the pool, reaching deep before you twirled and a soft glow enveloped you. You sighed in relief as your legs morphed into your tail, the pain you had been feeling the last few days lifting temporarily and yet your chest still felt heavy with the last conversation you had with Ransom. You took your time circling the depths of your expansive swimming pool, allowing yourself to recover as much as it could but at this point you had no choice now but to leave tonight.
Merfolk power came from the sea and prolonged separation weakened you. Your annual trips back to your kingdom were born out of necessity, a way to recharge your magic and strength where Mer magic was the strongest for you to be able to return to shore again. If you don’t go tonight, your magic will dissolve and your body will waste away.
You will die.
However, this time you were as reluctant to leave as you were to come back. What would be the point of coming back? There was suddenly no more joy in your life here and truthfully you don’t think you can take seeing more news of Ransom or risk running into him. Perhaps it was time to talk to your mother. Perhaps it was time to find a different purpose for you.
Your head popped up out of the surface, sighing heavily and staring forlornly at the night sky. You would miss the sky. It was one of your favorite things about the shore. You could spend hours just watching the colors change from the dusky sunrise to the clear blue to the stormy grays to the fiery sunsets. Your favorite was the bright blue of morning, filled with the choice of a day of adventures ahead or lazy musings. The possibilities were endless with the morning sky. It would now remind you painfully of Ransom, but you were decided. You’ve had a good run on shore. You’ve lived your life as you pleased without the burden of your title holding you back.
It was time to be a proper princess for your kingdom.
“So this is your secret.”
Your eyes widened as you turned toward the voice, your tail automatically carrying you to the edge to hide yourself. It was no use though. He had already seen everything and as you stared up at him, you couldn’t help the thrill of seeing him again or the wistful smile that curved your lips that you were quick to tamp down.
“You’re a mermaid.”
Your face dropped and your eyes turned downcast, trying hard to avoid his gaze as if it could hide your secret from him. As if it were shameful. When Ransom stepped out onto your backyard, he could hardly make sense of what he was seeing. He must be high, but as he watched you swim so gracefully beneath the surface he became more and more mesmerized by your movements. He was hypnotized by how the color of your tail shone with the subtle lights of your home and the gentle silver of the moon. It made the flaming hues of your lower half stand out more, like a bursting sunset of red and gold. He was caught by your beauty the moment he first saw you, but this was different.
You were enchanting.
You had enchanted him from the start and he now knew why. It explained how he was so magnetically drawn to you. How you had kept his attention where all else had failed. How you kept creeping into his mind when you were apart. How he craved you. It told him that it was never a choice, he would never have been able to resist you even if he wanted to.
He really never wanted to.
He almost thought it unfair. You were magical and he was human. He was a lost cause from the start, but while it explained much it didn’t cover everything. It didn’t explain why he relished your laughter or admired your work ethic. It didn’t explain why he genuinely liked to hear your stories. It didn’t explain how he could be comfortable enough to be honest with you. It didn’t explain the possessive surge he felt that day you fought or what made him say those words that were meant to hurt you.
In a move that was wholly out of character for him, he bent down to capture your chin in his hand and turn your gaze back to him. His other hand traced the elaborate gold band that circled your head with countless rare pearls and precious gems that dripped down to your hair.
“You’re an actual princess too, aren’t you? That’s why that brooding asshole called you that last time,” he chuckled, the sound fraying your nerves. You weren’t sure whether he was mocking you or he was genuinely amused, but you couldn’t seem to look away. Not when for two weeks you wanted nothing more than to see him.
“You know there are rumors that the secret silent partner in your company is actually a Mafia clan,” he laughed loudly this time. “I guess swimming with the fishes has a different meaning to you.”
Your lips twitched in a barely contained smile before your head tilted to the side in confusion. “You don’t seem too surprised.”
“It makes sense,” he shrugged dismissively.
You barked your laughter, the nerves you were feeling earlier suddenly expelled with each breath and the lingering anger from your last interaction pushed aside for the time being. You shook your head, but leaned over the edge and craned your neck upwards to keep his eyes. His gorgeous aqua eyes that you now realized didn’t hold what you normally would expect from someone faced with what was known only as myth. There was no ill intent, fear, or disgust. They were cocky and playful just like Ransom always was with you. What was new was what was unexpectedly lining it.
“I fail to see what part of this makes any type of fucking sense, Ransom,” you smiled as you flicked your fins up to the surface to emphasize your point.
For a moment he was transfixed with how your tail was lazily swishing before he looked back at you and there was that affection again that was making your face heat up. “The secrecy. How you don’t keep a public profile despite making the big decisions in the company. You actually own the damn company, don’t you?”
You nodded sheepishly and he chuckled again. His fingers travelled lightly along one string of pearls that decorated your head. “That also explains why you happen to be the only ones able to sell these kinds of pearls. They’re so rare. You can’t tell me how they’re made right?”
“Maybe. Someday. It’s a secret of the Mers,” you grinned cheekily. His smile grew at the thought that there was a someday, that he hadn’t already completely ruined things with you. “Still doesn’t explain how easily you’re accepting all of this though.”
“You forget that Harlan is a novelist and I grew up around his incessant rambling about literature,” he scoffed and rolled his eyes at the thought of his family. “Every design you put out has a little story about Merfolk. I thought it was a cool gimmick at first, but something about it always struck me as intimate. Like it was personal. You wrote them yourself, didn’t you?”
“I did,” you admitted quietly. You bit your lip nervously as you braced yourself to ask a more difficult question. “You honestly don’t find all this too strange?”
“Are you kidding me?” he laughed loudly. “My girlfriend’s a fucking mermaid!”
You felt your face heat up again at the sudden declaration. He’s called you many things, but he’s never called you that. Neither of you have ever acknowledged whatever you had as anything more than convenient fucking.
Still, why did it make your heart flutter?
“Wow. Got you speechless for once and I didn’t even need to choke you with my cock this time,” he snickered, enjoying the flustered look on your face and bringing his face closer to yours. So close that your noses were brushing and you could feel his long lashes on your wet cheeks.
“What? You don’t like being called my girlfriend, princess?”
“Ransom, I -”
You were stunned speechless and your instinct told you to recoil. It told you to run, but Ransom caught your wrist before you could retreat from him.
“You can’t be serious, Ransom,” you shook your head.
“Oh I’m completely serious, princess.”
“You’re fucking insane! You can’t possibly think that’s a good idea.”
He leaned away from you, dropping your hand as he stood to his full height. Your eyes widened when you saw him slowly strip his clothes. He threw them unceremoniously on the day beds, keeping eye contact with you and smirking at how your expression was somewhere between confused and aroused at the sight of him completely naked.
“Let me show you how good of an idea it is.”
It must be the fatigue of your power fading that you didn’t react fast enough when he dove into the water and dragged you under. The next thing you know, Ransom had you caged in his arms and his lips were on yours. You yelped against his mouth when you felt him pull at one nipple until it went hard beneath his touch. He flashed you another smug look before he stole another kiss and propelled you both up to the surface.
“Marry me,” he said the moment you broke air, crowding you against the edge of the pool. His hands roaming all across your body, exploring the new texture of your skin. “God, you’re so hot like this.”
“Ransom,” you gasped as his mouth moved to suck and nip along your throat, your neck instinctively dropping back to give him more access. “You don’t know what you’re asking for.”
He groaned as he felt your hands card through his hair and pull at the strands, unable to resist the attraction that was always so strong between you. He held you in place by your ass and pressed his throbbing erection against you. He bit hard into the sensitive juncture at the base of your neck and smiled against the newly forming bruise when he felt your fins curl around his leg to bring him closer. You could take any form and he would still know how to make your body sing for him.
“I don’t know about that. I think I like the idea of being a prince,” he laughed, his breath tickling your ear and sending shivers across your skin. “Marry me.”
His hands travelled lower, trailing fire all over your body as he groped at your breasts and gripped at your curves. His fingers soon reached below your pelvis and you would think that he had experience with mermaid anatomy by how fast he found your veiled entrance. It was your sharp inhale though and the way your fingers dug into his back that gave you away when he brushed against your core. He slipped his fingers past the pliant part of your tail and straight into your pulsating core.
“Fuck,” he growled. It was so different, somehow even more wet and tighter than you usually were. “I can’t wait to stick my cock in there, princess. Marry me.”
You moaned his name and shook your head even as his fingers were making your hips move in search of more. “We can’t.”
You keened when he found that spot inside you that had your resolve hanging by a thread. You tried to hang on to your reasoning. You tried to remind yourself that neither of you were the marrying type. Neither of you were the commitment type. You were both selfish and self-indulgent.
His free hand came around your throat, forcing you to look at him as he unraveled you with his fingers. You saw the determined set of his jaw and the burning desire in his eyes. He wanted you.
Every version of you.
“That’s it. Don’t you want me as your prince?” he teased as his pace quickened until he felt you were on the brink of climax. “Marry me, princess. Let go for me now.”
You came hard, your voice carrying like a melody through your freefall. Ransom was dead set on your ruin and convincing you to be with him. He needed to show you how good you were together. His painfully hard cock swiftly replaced his fingers and he felt like he was going to cum on the spot by just how you felt. It was out of this world. You were still mid orgasm and it was driving him into a frenzy how your walls were pulsing around him.
“I didn’t think your cunt could get any better. Goddamn.”
“Ransom,” you panted, nearing delirium now from pleasure. “Fuck me please. I need it. Please, I need it.”
The growl he let out was animalistic as he hammered into you, your mouths fusing and your tongues battled in between incoherent chanting of each other’s names. You were absolutely lost in each other, the water violently splashing from your crude movements. It wasn’t long before you were teetering over the edge again, one sharp snap of his hips sending you spiralling into bliss.
“You feel fucking amazing,” he grunted, his pace starting to falter as he neared his own end. “I’m gonna fill you up, princess. If you don’t wanna be my wife right now then you can be the mother of my brats first.”
You clenched around him at the thought and his hips stuttered. A small voice in the back of your mind warned you. If he came inside you right now in this form and in your vulnerable state, he would surely succeed in his task.
“Ransom, you can’t,” you protested weakly, still reeling from your climax and already building toward another.
“I can, princess,” he chuckled darkly as he continued to rail hard into you. “And I will. You want this too. I’m making you mine.”
The authority in his voice threw you into your next release, your walls milking him for all he would offer and pulling him into his own finish. He kissed you hard as he continued to pump his seed inside you, making sure every drop was pushed deep.
His lips slowly parted from yours, but he didn’t go far. He rested his forehead against yours, his twitching cock still nestled inside you, and his hands cupping your face with an unexpected tenderness that was mirrored in his eyes.
Through the jumbled mess of your thoughts, you scrambled again for your reasoning. You both were spoiled and wanted it all. You both valued your independence and freedom to have fun as you wished. You both walked away from each other during that fight. You both hurt each other. As if reading your mind, he rubbed his thumbs over your cheeks to calm your protests before he spoke.
“After the fight, I spent a lot of time thinking. I was ready to just bury myself in the next pussy I see and forget all about you,” he started gently. “Then I found out we were all getting cut off from my grandfather’s will. All I am is my money and without that who am I? I went into a dark place, princess.”
You saw him struggle with his words and your heart softened at this rare show of vulnerability. He’s never shown this side of him to you. Whatever he shared with you was always with his brand of humor and sarcasm. You suspected that he never showed it to anyone. You appreciated how difficult this was for him to open up to you. Your hands ran soothingly along his arms, a silent encouragement for him to continue.
“I was going to do something that I would have regretted. I was going to do something that would have destroyed me completely. All for money. All for the pride of a Thrombey,” he swallowed, pausing for a moment to steady himself. He would never be able to fully put into words what you pulled him back from doing. What you stopped him from becoming. “But one thing kept holding me back from going through with it.”
“Me?” you asked quietly.
“Yes, princess,” he gave you a small smile and kissed the tip of your nose. “I’m sorry I said those things to you. I regret them. I didn’t mean a single word. You were the first person I wanted to talk to after I found out about the will. You were the only person I wanted to see. You still are. That’s when I knew.”
“That I love you, you fucking idiot,” he chuckled. “I was fully willing to say to hell with my family and the money. None of what I thought was important before is anymore. Not after you.”
Your hands slid to loop around his neck and tangle themselves in his wet hair, smiling at the thought that just before he came you had the exact same epiphany that he had. What mattered then didn’t matter anymore. Not if you weren’t together. You had changed each other and neither of you even knew it was happening.
“So, Ransom Drysdale, the trust fund playboy.” You laughed as he rolled his eyes at your teasing. “You love me?”
“I just said that!”
“Well I wanna hear it again!”
“God, you’re so high maintenance,” he groaned in mock exhaustion though there was no venom in his tone, only an indulgent smirk on his lips.
“That’s rich coming from you,” you snorted.
“We’re not even married yet and you’re already nagging at me.”
He crashed his lips to yours, laughing as he kissed you breathless and his stomach fluttering in amusement at how you were smacking his chest in annoyance. Exactly this. He wanted exactly this for the rest of his life.
“We’re getting married next week. I don’t want any of my family to come. They can all eat shit. We’re eloping.”
“I didn’t say yes, you asshole.”
He scoffed and pinned you with a raised eyebrow. “You’re really an idiot if you think it was ever a choice.”
The laugh faded from your lips as you remembered the journey you needed to make and by the look on his face, he seemed to realize the same thing. He also realized now that the truth of your nature was revealed that it must mean more than just a yearly family trip.
“You have to leave,” he said sadly, suddenly deflated. “When?”
“Tonight. I’m too weak to stay on land for much longer. I need to go back.”
“Then marry me right fucking now. I want to know you’re going to come back,” he swallowed, vulnerability again flashing in his eyes but now coupled with his stubborn firmness. “I need to know you’re coming back to me.”
“I don’t give a shit how,” he smirked as he fiddled with his hand, slipping off the signet ring that he always wore on his pinky.
You couldn’t help giggling as he struggled to somehow fasten it on your crown, carefully making sure that his ring was secure and prominent among the many adornments. It was just so ridiculous and yet it made your heart swell with joy and your eyes fill with tears.
“There. We’re married now.”
You beamed at him and from the opposite side of his ring, you broke off a winding piece of gold and fastened it around his pinky. You lifted his hand up to your face, closing your eyes as tears streaked down your cheek to land on the makeshift ring. You closed your hands over it for a moment and when again revealed, Ransom was shocked to see a pearl now attached to it.
“We’re married now. I love you too.”
He crashed his lips to yours, overwhelmed by the love and awe that he was feeling for you. You were his now. It didn’t matter to him if it was real or made up. It just mattered that you were his and he was yours. You would return and when you did, he was going to marry you in every conceivable ceremony there was in this world and yours.
This unity once wished
A joining of land and sea
Not a choice of one or the other
But of both to prosper
You both smiled as you parted, the blessing of the ancients anchoring you in permanence with each other. You knew for sure now that you would return and his parting words made you all the more eager to do so.
“I’ll be here waiting.”
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Requested by @cevansrogerss
(RANSOMs LINES ARE ITALICIZED)
Pairing- Ransom Drysdale x Reader
"I just cant see myself ever living without you."
"I don't care what others say, I want to be with you and that's all that matters to me."
"Ran...I...I have to go...I can't stay here with you forever, I love you. I always will, but it hurts me to see you being hated by your family so much...I feel...I feel it's because of m-" "No, baby, they...they hate me...but not because of you...okay? They're just...envious and money minded, baby...we can't let them and their shit thoughts and opinions between us. You're my everything, Y/N. I love you so so much, but please don't go. I...I'll always love you and take care of you, sweetheart, just...please don't...go" Ransom said cutting you off as both you and him started tearing up
The tension in the room was dense, you were breaking not only your own heart but your lover's heart too. Breaking up with the man you thought would be the love of your life.
A few moments later you cupped his face in your hands and wiped his tears with your thumbs. Both of you looked into each other eyes for a bit, in his, you saw nothing but pleading and pain and honesty, in yours he saw suffering, guilt and melancholy. "I...I think...I should sleep at my old apartment tonight, Ransom. I think sleeping here, would just...make it harder for the both of us." You said trying to end the conversation, eventhough you didn't want to, you still did say it, you were being so cruel to both him and yourself, you couldn't handle it anymore.
Ransom felt like his heart was just ripped out, and you were the one to do it. "Baby, please...please don't go, don't shut me out...I...I can't...hmph, I just can't see myself ever living without you. I..I won't be able to live with myself, I love you, but please don't leave. I need you, I want you to be my wife someday, I want you to have a family with me someday. You're...hm...you're my-, you're the love of my life. I can't let you go, not without fighting for us. I don't care what others say, I want to be with you and that's all that matters to me. I want to be able to wake up next to you and admire your beautiful face every morning, I want to love you and be by your side every day till the very end, so don't go, I can't let you go, don't ask me to let you go."
Tears falling down both of your faces. 10:47 pm, on a Thursday in the month of September. The biggest heartbreak you've ever given anyone, the worst heartache you've ever caused anyone, you caused your own heart to break and your lover's too.
Oops, I went a little too long there and didn't know when to stop? Forgive me-
Anyways, I hope you enjoyed reading this!
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The fics are in no particular order and the list is not complete. I just wanted to make a post to appreciate all the authors.
My other Fic Lists
Updated in September 2021
[18+] Some of the fics may include explicit content. I’m not responsible for your online media consumption.
* indicates implied smut
*** indicates smut
If I have forgotten to mark any of the fics please let me know
Marriage Counsellor*** by @sweeterthanthis
Drunk by @drysdale-barnes
Saturday Morning by @whiskey-cokenfanfic
Yes, Mrs Barber*** by @jurassicbarnes
Boys in Bed with Books***: Andy Barber by @/jobean12-blog
Taste of paradise*** by @sunshinebuckybarnes
Misty blue by @saintbvcky
Don't hang up by @worksby-d
Access denied* by @stargazingfangirl18
Scars* by @nano--raptor
Forgotten Birthdays by @goaskbarnes
Boys in Bed with Books***: Charles Blackwood, Chris Beck, Jefferson by @jobean12-blog
Soft!Loki headcanon 2
Chilling by @tokoyamisstuff
the flower crown by @bonky-n-steeb
You heart's desire by @writingsoftheloser
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ways writers can be inclusive 101
“my cheeks turned pink in embarrassment” → “my cheeks heated in embarrassment”
“his hand ran through my hair” → “his hand ran over my head/hair”
“her bright pink pussy” → literally anything else
stop using mood boards of only white couples/children (heavy on this one)
using children names like eveleigh ann (do i need to explain..)
her hair was put in a messy bun/her long silky hair...
Respectfully, I know it’s just fanfiction, but if you’re going to write reader insert fics then do the bare minimum of making sure it’s actually inclusive and not white coded. Many of us shouldn’t read an x reader fic and imagine a white woman every single time. Stop taking criticism from bipocs, saying your writing is not inclusive, as hate. Let go of the mindset that having a bipoc in your writing means they have to go through some racial struggle or you must talk about their culture (a lot of bipocs don’t know their culture/where they came from). It shouldn’t make you uncomfortable to write them in your stories, we’re normal people too. If it does maybe a reflection is meant to be had. Like i said, it’s just fanfiction and it’s supposed to be fun, but some of y’all are purposefully exclusive and still tag your writing wrong.
And if you can’t handle it, tag ur fic as an oc or white!reader. Because it’s not right for writers to attack people asking for inclusivity and playing victim bc they know they can.
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Pairing: Andy Barber x Female!Reader x Ransom Drysdale x Steve Rogers
Word Count: 22,871 (oh my god, I’m SO SORRY)
Summary: Three of the most violent and notorious inmates at Steelridge Correctional Center escape, and they take you--the sweet, compassionate prison doctor--with them.
Warnings: Explicit language. Explicit sexual content. Unprofessional doctor/patient feels. Violence. Death/murder. Reference to murder. Threats of non con and murder. Kidnapping. Gun, knife, and law enforcement baton/nightstick use. Non con. Dub con. Vaginal fingering. Gang bang. Unprotected sex. Rough/painful sex. Oral sex (f & m receiving). Cum eating. Hand job. Exhibitionism. Voyeurism. Degradation. Spitting (just once for lube). Anal sex. DP. Overstimulation. Pussy slapping. Squirting. Beating/whipping with a belt. Sooo much angst. Suicidal thoughts & themes. Physical, emotional/mental, & sexual abuse. Gaslighting. Prison AU. Doctor!Reader. General AU for most of the fictional babes. Mean!Steve Rogers (I mean it, he’s awful). 18+ only!
A/N: Whew, okay omg I am SO EXCITED for this story aka my fic o’ ruin. It’s my super late final entry into my soft!dark challenge, and I’ve been chipping away at it for a while. It took me some time to figure out a scenario/AU that made sense for these characters to come together and cum together 😏but I think I pulled it off. Also, please take all of my medical, prison, criminal, and law stuff with a grain of salt, I’m not an expert lol. Enjoy! ❤️
🚨P.S. Please note this is a DARK FIC that contains lots of dark elements. Like. If you didn’t read all of the warnings above, please go back and do so right now. And do not proceed if you are not okay with any of these elements. Your media consumption is YOUR responsibility. Also please note that I do not in any way condone any of the dark actions or elements found in this story, this is a work of FICTION. Thank you! (Also please let me know if I missed any warnings.) 🚨
Prompts: This ask + There was only one bed + “Come on, just a little taste.” + Overstimulation/Squirting
You were updating the newest batch of patient records from this week’s annual inmate physical exams when you heard the quiet, distressed murmurs.
Pushing away from your desk, you made your way across the infirmary to the only patient you currently had under your care.
You knew that when you took this job as the physician at Steelridge Correctional Center, you were expected to maintain a certain level of disassociation from your patients--the inmates--to maintain protocol and keep yourself safe.
But bedside manner and compassion had always been two of your strongest traits--even before you were practicing medicine--and it was situations like Andy’s that pulled on your heart strings and made you truly sad.
Made you more willing to bend some of the rules so that you could show even the incarcerated kindness and dignity.
Because if anyone deserved kindness, it was Andy Barber.
His story was a tragic one, having lost both his wife and teenage son in a car accident caused by a drunk driver. And when the man got away with his crime scott free, Andy had killed him.
Murdered him with his bare hands in a fit of grief driven rage.
That should have made you terrified of him, but you weren’t, because Andy wasn’t like the other inmates in this prison.
He had been a good man, a respectable man, an ADA fighting the good fight before tragedy and grief had driven him to his breaking point.
You saw the soft kindness and respect in his gaze every time you interacted with him. You also saw the cloud of despair and loneliness. And you saw the genuine gratitude any time you bent the rules just a little and offered him what small acts of kindness and reprieve from his harsh circumstances that you could.
A lingering soft touch, a longer stay in the infirmary to keep him out of the cell block, sneaking him a homemade baked good when the attending guard wasn’t looking, loaning him your own books once he had read through the pathetic collection housed in the prison library.
Another quiet noise of distress pulled you from your musings, and you stepped behind the privacy curtain pulled around Andy’s bed to check on him.
He was two days into his stay in the infirmary for treatment for the flu, the sickness having hit him so hard that he had to be wheeled to the infirmary on a stretcher because he had been too dehydrated and weak to walk.
He was still asleep, his handsome face paler than usual and covered in a sheen of sweat as he tossed and turned as much as he could with his right wrist handcuffed to the bed rail.
You made a soft noise of comfort as you brushed some of the dark messy hair from his forehead, reaching for the washcloth and bowl of water at his bedside. You wet the cloth and wrung it out before gently mopping Andy’s face and seeing the furrow between his brows slightly ease.
And then he was jolting awake with a sharp inhale, his eyes shooting open, bleary and blinking rapidly, as you set the washcloth aside.
“Doc?” Andy’s voice was raspy from sleep as he blinked you into focus, sagging back against the bed once he realized where he was.
“Are you okay?” you asked, eyes shining with worry. “Looked like you were having a nightmare.”
“Wanna talk about it?” you whispered, reaching for the plastic cup of water with a straw sticking out of it before bringing it to Andy’s lips.
He drank slowly, his plump lips chapped but still occupying your gaze longer than they should have once he was finished and you set the drink aside.
Andy shook his head. “I can’t.” His eyes were haunted and had your heart aching for him before he dropped his gaze.
Your touch was gentle as you pressed the back of your hand to Andy’s forehead, testing for fever and feeling his skin still burning up.
“It was probably a fever dream,” you said, your hand having a mind of its own as your knuckles drew a gentle caress down Andy’s cheek.
His eyes jumped back to yours, sparkling with a mixture of confusion and desperation. The pain and grief was so pronounced in his gaze that it had you swallowing around a lump in your throat.
Glancing up to make sure the curtain was pulled as far as you thought it was and blocking you from the view of the attending guard out in the hallway, you gently cupped Andy’s face as your gaze returned to him.
He swallowed as he watched you, his eyes fluttering shut as he leaned into your cool, soft touch. His breath caught at the maintained contact, and there was no question in your mind that he was painfully touch starved, like so many others in this godforsaken place.
You allowed your touch to linger, trying to give Andy some small modicum of relief, just a bit of genuine human connection as your thumb grazed against the apple of his cheek, mapping the faint freckles on his skin.
You stood that way for a long moment, granting Andy a kind touch and some comfort on the other side of whatever horror show his subconscious had worked up for him, and you knew his mind had plenty of material to pull from.
“I’m going to let your guard know I’m keeping you for another day or two since your fever still hasn’t broken,” you told him, slowly pulling your hand from his face.
You turned to go but froze as Andy’s free hand caught yours.
You’d been grabbed by other inmates before, and usually it was terror that had your heart skipping a beat in your chest in response…
But right now? Here with Andy? Under his touch?
It wasn’t terror that had your face warming and your breath catching as he turned his palm against yours, until he could lace your fingers together and give your hand a soft squeeze.
It was something else entirely.
When Andy’s gaze lifted to yours, his blue eyes were filled with so much yearning you felt your own eyes burn with tears.
“Thank you,” he whispered, gently pulling his fingers from yours and giving your knuckles a final, lingering brush of his thumb before releasing your hand.
Trying to ignore the way your tummy was fluttering, you nodded, mustering up a small smile for Andy before leaving him to rest as you made your way to the guard outside of the infirmary.
The only time you really resisted your natural inclination of caring and nurturing others was when you had to wear that mask of aloof professionalism while treating the inmates that scared you.
Inmates like Steve Rogers.
A former army captain, Steve was a hulking mountain of a man who had violently killed three men outside of a bar after they had jumped his best friend and fellow army vet.
He looked like some kind of intimidating lumberjack with his long, dark blonde hair and the well trimmed beard that shadowed the perfect angles of his face as he lounged back on the treatment table and watched you stitch up the stab wound at the side of his toned abdomen.
Steve didn’t talk much, at least he hadn’t the few times you had treated him during your short tenure at Steelridge, but he didn’t need to speak to make you want to rush through your time with him.
Just the unblinking, dark stare of his eyes--always fixed on you any time your gaze flickered to his--was enough to have your skin crawling in apprehensive awareness.
Unlike many of the other inmates, Steve had never said or done anything lewd to you, but you just knew he was undressing you with his eyes every time he was in your presence.
When you glanced up from the latest perfect stitch you had carefully mended into his skin to find his teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he eyed the gap forming at the top of your blouse as you leaned over to tend to his wound, you couldn’t help but shiver.
You jumped as Steve’s eyes snapped up to yours without warning, freezing like a deer in headlights--feeling like you really were in danger--as you fell into the deep, dark well of lust shadowing his gaze.
He licked his lips slowly as you watched him, and at the nearly imperceptible sound of your breath hitching in your chest, he did something you had never seen him do before.
The curl of his plush pink lips was slow to unravel, until wicked amusement colored his features as his dark eyes bored into yours.
It wasn’t until a quiet, gravelly chuckle shook through his chest that you jerked back into action, feeling your face flood with warmth, your fingers trembling as you hurried to finish Steve’s stitches, uncomfortably aware of his heavy, insistent stare fixed on you the entire time.
For as quiet as Steve Rogers was, Ransom Drysdale was the complete opposite.
And for a guy who was serving a life-time sentence for murdering his grandfather and his grandfather’s housekeeper, Ransom was always in a good mood whenever you saw him.
Even now, as you treated his bruised ribs from getting into another fight in the commissary.
Not that you blamed his fellow inmates, as you often found yourself wanting to do bodily harm to Ransom Drysdale, too.
Slap that smug smirk right off of his annoyingly handsome face.
Especially when it was the type of encounter with him where he did nothing but drop one disgusting innuendo or sexual advance after another.
You leaned closer than you would have preferred as you pressed the stethoscope to Ransom’s broad, naked chest, trying to hear if his airway was compromised in any way due to his injured ribs.
“You’ve got pretty hands, doc,” Ransom slithered, touching his tongue to his teeth as he gazed down at your hands. “Small and soft. Can’t help but imagine how good they’d look wrapped around my cock.”
Despite the warmth of humiliation heating your cheeks, you kept your features neutral as you moved the stethoscope slightly and focused on listening to Ransom’s breath.
“Breathe in slow and deep for me, please,” you told him, completely ignoring his prior comment.
“Please,” Ransom mimicked. “So polite. Bet you’d thank me for pounding that uptight pussy until you were crying for me.”
You sighed your irritation, your hand retreating from Ransom’s bare chest, but then his free hand--the one not handcuffed to the bed rail--was grabbing your wrist and yanking you close.
Gasping as you stumbled against Ransom, the soft musk of him filling your nose, you stared into his glittering eyes in trepidation. “Let go of me.”
“You know how long it’s been since I’ve buried myself in a tight, wet cunt?” he murmured, touching his nose to yours and humming at your choked gasp. “I know you’d make the prettiest sounds for me, kitten.”
He shifted closer, holding you tighter so you couldn’t move away, his fingers pressing into your delicate wrist so hard you couldn’t stifle a quiet whimper of pain.
“Come on, just a little taste,” Ransom murmured, his lips nearly brushing against yours and causing you to jerk away.
You tried to yank your hand from his grip, but when he wouldn’t let go, you dug your fingers into his bruised ribs.
“Fuck!” Ransom hissed in pain, finally releasing you as he hunched over, protectively curling his free arm around his torso.
You scrambled away from him, pressing a hand to your chest like it would quell the frantic beating of your heart. Your eyes were wide and frightened as Ransom slowly lifted his head, his face curled into a sneer as he glared daggers at you.
“You little bitch, you’ll pay for that.”
“Guard!” you called, your voice trembling as you got one last look at Ransom’s lethal stare before you turned your back on him.
You asked the guard to take him away, overtly aware of Ransom’s gaze on you the entire time. You didn’t wait for his departure to push out into the hallway and fumble with your employee badge, hurrying through all of the security checkpoints in the hallway.
Using your badge to buzz through the closest exit, you darted outside, sagging against the brick building as you held a hand to your chest. You shakily inhaled the cool, fresh air of Northwest Massachusetts as you willed your heart rate to return to normal and your trembling to subside.
“And how did this happen?” you asked Andy as you finished stitching up the small cut over his eye.
His lips quirked. “Wouldn’t give up my pudding cup at lunch. It’s the little things, you know?”
“Jesus, Andy,” you laughed quietly, shaking your head as you pushed away the cart of medical instruments and tugged off your rubber gloves.
Andy’s voice was so quiet you almost didn’t hear him when he said, “Love the sound of my name on your lips.”
You froze, wide gaze shooting to him to find Andy watching you with a soft smile and an even softer look in his eyes.
Sometimes you really wished you had never met Andy Barber.
At least not here, of all places.
Because the more you got to know him, the more you liked him.
More than liked him.
He was quietly funny and wickedly smart. He was so kind and gentle with you. And he was honestly one of the most beautiful people you had ever seen up close.
But he was also a convicted killer serving a lifetime sentence for brutally murdering another person.
The devastation must have shown on your face, because Andy’s smile fell as he ducked his head and muttered, “Sorry.”
“No!” You hurried to assure him, your gaze flickering to check the curtain was pulled around the bed before you reached for his hand. “It’s fine.”
“I’m not trying to be a creep or anything,” Andy told you, eyes hesitantly lifting to yours. “I just...like you so much. You make me remember what life was like before all this.” His voice faltered for a moment, his sad eyes shining as he watched you. “You make me happy.”
It was instant, the way your vision blurred with tears, your grip on Andy’s hand tightening as you felt emotions rising in you quickly. “Andy, I--”
Your words were cut off by the sudden, piercing wail of a siren, and you jumped, wide eyes meeting Andy’s briefly before you were moving to yank the curtain open.
Out in the hallway, you could see the insistent flash of red from the emergency light set over the security checkpoint just down the hall. The guard who had brought Andy to the infirmary was nowhere in sight, and you took a step toward the door, intending to go find him to see what was going on, but Andy grabbed your wrist and tugged you back toward him.
“Don’t go out there, doc.”
You turned to him with furrowed brows. “But what if they need me?”
“It’s a lockdown,” Andy shook his head. “Probably a riot again, you never know how those will shake out. You’re safer in here.”
Your words were cut off as Andy’s attending guard burst through the infirmary door, one hand clutching his stomach, blood coating his fingers, as he fumbled with the lock on the door before turning to you.
“They’re...in the hallway,” he wheezed, eyes glittering with terror before he was reaching for you.
You hurried to cushion his fall, grunting under the guard’s weight as you tried to ease him to the floor as gently as possible.
Everything was happening so quickly--the deafening alarm making it hard to think--and the guard bled out so fast you didn’t even have time to grab the proper medical equipment to try and help him. Your fingers shook as you checked the pulse in his neck for a final time before you were sagging back on your heels, tears blurring your vision.
Andy murmured your name, and it was his use of your given name for the first time ever that had you jerking to awareness and glancing at him over your shoulder.
But Andy wasn’t looking at you, he was staring at the plate glass windows of the infirmary and out into the hallway.
Where a few wild, raucous inmates were beginning to gather.
Some of the most violent and infamous killers in the world.
“Doctor, doctor!” Robert Pronge hooted, banging his big fists on the infirmary windows and making you jump. “Need some of your one on one treatment, kitty cat. Got a case of the blues that only a hot, wet cunt can cure.”
Andy said your name again, more urgently this time.
Your terrified gaze flew back to him.
“Get the keyring on his belt,” Andy told you, gesturing to the dead guard. “I need you to get this off of me” He held up his cuffed hand, his gaze flickering to the locked door of the infirmary as the other prisoners twisted the knob and threw themselves against the door. “Hurry!”
Your fingers reached for the key ring at the tone of urgency in Andy’s voice, but then you paused, fingers shaking as you glanced back at him. “But...I shouldn’t.”
Andy’s smile was sad. “I just want to protect you, honey, and I can’t do that if I’m locked up like this.”
You realized you were crying as you watched him, torn, but then the sound of shattering glass had you shrieking as the inmates in the hall busted through one of the windows, their big, meaty arms reaching through the metal bars that still kept them outside as their irritation grew louder.
Their threats more violent and horrific.
“Gonna tear up that ass of yours, doc,” Bryce Langley jeered, his eyes so dark they looked black--possessed--as he rubbed at the growing tent in the front of his orange jumpsuit. “Stuff you full of my cum and drink it out of your asshole myself.”
Shuddering hard as disgust rippled through you, you yanked the keyring from the guard’s belt and staggered to your feet. You gave Andy a brief look of uncertainty before you were unlocking the handcuff from around his wrist and setting him free.
“Thank you,” he murmured, big hands giving your arms a brief squeeze before he was rushing across the infirmary and shoving the bookshelf and file cabinets in front of the door to buy you more time.
“Aw, come on, Barber, don’t play keepaway,” Robert snarled at him. “There’s plenty of her to go around. We’ll even let you have the first go at her.”
“Fuck off,” Andy snapped.
It was the first time you had ever seen his face twisted with anger, and you took a step back as he turned to you, his body tense and his chest heaving as he quickly glanced around the infirmary. He looked up, his eyes lingering, and then he was pulling your heavy metal desk away from the wall.
Turning toward you, he held out a hand, but you took a startled step away from him at the lingering fury furrowing his brow.
At your terrified look, Andy’s face immediately softened and he gave you a small smile. “Come on, doc.” He waved you closer before climbing up onto your desk and prying open the grate leading to the air duct above and tossing it aside with a loud clatter. “Gonna get you out of here, keep you safe.”
As Andy extended a hand to you, you hesitated. “Why?” you asked, startling as the inmates in the hallway broke through another window.
Andy stared at you, his eyes determined as he crouched atop the desk to bring himself closer to your level. “You know why.”
His quiet murmur--his veiled confession--along with the whirlwind of emotions swirling in his gaze as he watched you had your breath catching as you stared at him.
It also had the last of your faulty rule follower armor crumbling away as you felt all of the feelings that you knew you shouldn't have for Andy flood through you, to the surface, and with them came a deep, unearned sense of trust that had you sliding your hand into his and allowing Andy to pull you up onto the desk beside him.
Range of motion was a challenge in your fitted skirt, blouse, and heels, but Andy easily lifted you up until you could heft yourself the rest of the way into the air vent. You scrambled to make room for him, unable to stop yourself from staring at the way his arm muscles popped and flexed as he effortlessly pulled himself up into the small space beside you.
It was close quarters in the vent, and despite the urgency to get away from the violent offenders closing in on you below, you were frozen. All too aware and mesmerized by the way Andy’s big body was pressed up right against yours in the small space, his eyes flickering down to your parted lips as you breathed in the same air.
It was the sound of the third and final window shattering below that had you both startling back to reality.
“Come on, let’s see if we can find an empty hallway and get you to an exit,” Andy said, leading the way as you hurriedly crawled further and further away from the infirmary.
“How long do you think this will last?” you panted, your body already screaming it’s protest and prickling with sweat as you army crawled in the small space.
“No idea,” Andy replied. “Depends on how bad it is, but if they’re making it through the hallways and past security checkpoints…”
His words faded away but lingered heavily.
It was no secret Steelridge was severely overpopulated, and with some of the most violent, malevolent criminals in the world.
“And this far out, it’ll take the prison a while to get any kind of reinforcements here,” Andy muttered ahead of you.
You fought against the terror crawling it’s way up your chest and tried to focus on the present moment and the solitary task of getting to safety.
After a while, Andy paused and you could just make out light up ahead as he glanced down through the steel slats of another metal grate.
“This hall looks clear,” he whispered to you. “And we should be right around the north side exit. You know that backs up to that old guard tower they’re gonna demolish soon to expand the prison?”
Andy worked at the grate until he was pulling it up into the vent and setting it aside. “I’ll go first. Don’t show yourself unless I tell you it’s safe, and if it’s not, keep going and hide until the sirens stop.”
And then he was dropping himself through the opening before you could respond. You heard the quiet impact of his feet hitting the linoleum floor below.
Your heart was slamming against your rib cage as you waited for what felt like forever but was probably just a few seconds, and then Andy’s voice was calling out to you from below.
“Come on, doc. Hurry!”
You crawled to the opening, until your face was peeking over the edge. You swallowed nervously at the distance to drop. You were smaller than Andy and it was a longer descent for you.
“Come on,” he urged, hands extended to you. “Feet out first, ease yourself down, and I’ll catch you.”
You opened your mouth, a mortifying chirp of fear falling from your lips before you trembled, “But--”
Andy startled, glancing over his shoulder and listening intently. “I think they’re coming, we don’t have time.” His gaze was frantic as it returned to you. He said your name softly, reaching for you. “Trust me.”
“I do,” you whispered without thinking, and then you were hustling into motion and shimmying yourself out of the air duct. You cried out as your grip slipped and you fell, but it was a short drop before Andy was catching you.
You oofed quietly as his strong arms held you against him--chest to chest--before he was slowly sliding you down his body until your feet touched the floor.
Your heart was jackhammering again, but this time it wasn’t from fear.
It was from the way Andy was looking at you--like you were his everything--and the way his arms felt like home as he held you close.
And then the sweet little bubble you two were in burst as Robert Pronge’s voice sounded from the other end of the hallway.
“I always did like the chase, kitty cat,” he called to you, no longer surrounded by his companions. He was sporting a black baton that you usually only saw the prison guards carrying, tossing it from hand to hand as he slowly sauntered closer.
“Go,” Andy murmured, stepping in front of you and ushering you behind him, toward the exit that lay a few yards away. “Run.”
You didn’t need to be told twice, rushing toward the door and yanking the retractable employee badge from the clip hanging from the band of your skirt. You hesitated to use it, sweat beading on your brow as you glanced up at Andy’s broad back, the way his arms were spread like he was trying to shield you.
Your gaze flickered beyond the small window of the door and out into the barren and long forgotten backyard of the prison that no one ever used, and beyond that to the dilapidated guard tower sitting on the very edge of the property.
It was one thing to grant Andy gentle touches and preferential treatment.
It was another to take him outside, unsupervised.
This wasn’t just bending the rules or against protocol, it was illegal.
And as the alarm blared loud and unyielding, and the red light flashed overhead of the door, you struggled to make a decision, to know what was right in this moment.
Because you thought Andy Barber was a good man but you knew that he was a murderer.
You felt the rise of conflicting feelings and frenzied logic overwhelm you, the foundation of terror still thick and present and making more tears fill your eyes as Andy turned to you.
His face was twisted in confusion as you just stared at him, unmoving, and then you saw him go rigid before your eyes, slowly looking over his shoulder as the noise down the hall intensified.
You peeked around him, blood freezing in your veins as you watched a few more inmates join Pronge. There were over half a dozen of them now, bodies big and broad and easily filling the hallway as they purposefully took their time closing in on you.
Like it was a game.
Like they were having fun.
And you knew that they were, your eyes big and wide with fear as you struggled to swallow around the sudden dryness in your throat.
Andy filled your vision, his hands grabbing you and propelling you toward the exit. “Go!”
You gripped your employee badge for dear life as he pressed you against the heavy metal door. “I-I can’t let you out, Andy.” You realized quite suddenly that you were crying again, tears streaming down your face as you stared up at him in devastation. “I can’t.”
“Hey, listen to me,” he murmured, ducking close and gently framing your face with his hands. “It’s okay, honey. Go, and I’ll make sure no one follows you.”
Another hoot and threat of violence from Pronge had you curling your fingers into Andy’s bare forearms, feeling the warm skin and muscles flex beneath your touch.
“They’ll kill you,” you trembled, clutching him tighter. “For helping me. For letting me get away.”
Andy’s smile was a beautiful, tragic thing as he gently swept his thumb along the apple of your cheek. “As long as you’re safe, that’s all that matters to me.”
And then he was grunting as he was attacked from behind.
You screamed as Andy twisted in Pronge’s hold, grappling with the other man as fellow inmates lounged and watched from a few yards away.
Like it was a show for their entertainment.
You realized it was as you watched in horror as Pronge fit the black nightstick beneath Andy’s chin and started strangling him with it.
“No!” you screamed, swaying closer, eyes darting around frantically to try and find a makeshift weapon.
“Don’t worry, doc, just working up an appetite first,” Pronge drawled, making a lewd gesture at you with his tongue that had your stomach churning with disgust. “Then I’m gonna tear apart that sweet pussy of yours until you’re begging me for death.”
Andy snarled at Pronge’s words, twisting and moving so quickly--so violently--that you almost couldn’t process what you were seeing as he wrenched the baton from Pronge’s hands, took a mighty swing, and cracked the other man in the side of the head.
The sound of impact was sickening, and you felt the burn of bile at the back of your throat as Pronge’s blood splattered against the white wall before his body dropped to the floor, unmoving.
For a moment, everything was quiet and still, save Andy’s heavy breathing.
And then all hell broke loose, the other inmates roaring their ire and hurtling toward you, all at once.
This time you didn’t hesitate as you swiped your badge against the locking mechanism of the exit, grabbed Andy’s wrist, and yanked him outside with you.
You both frantically pushed the heavy door closed, and you heaved a shaky sigh of relief when it clicked shut--and locked--the little light on the outside card swipe mechanism flickering green.
You jumped as Bryce Langley slammed his fists against the door, his face twisted in rage and spittle flying from his mouth as he screamed awful threats at you.
“Come on,” Andy said, tossing the nightstick aside in the overgrown grass before grabbing your hand and tugging you away from the exit and the eyes of the incensed inmates on the other side of the door.
Your head felt like it was filled with cotton, the world around you fuzzy and surreal, as Andy jogged you across the backyard and toward the abandoned guard’s tower.
It was almost like you blacked out, because one minute you were standing outside of the old building with him and the next you were inside it, surrounded by shadows and small spills of sunlight streaming in from outside between the poorly boarded up windows. The fall chill in the air made you shiver as Andy finally pulled you to a standstill.
“Hey, you okay?” he asked, hands gripping your arms. He frowned. “You’re shaking.” Andy caught your chin between his fingers, ducking his gaze to yours.
It was the warm, soft drag of his palm against your cheek that brought you back to awareness, and you blinked at him, unleashing more tears down your cheeks as you sagged against him, fingers desperately curling into the stiff orange fabric of his jumpsuit as you sobbed.
“That was s-so scary,” you cried, burying your face against Andy’s chest. “I thought we were going to die.”
“Hey, it’s okay,” Andy murmured quietly. There was no hesitation from him as he wrapped his arms around you and held you tight, his hands smoothing up and down your back. “You’re okay, honey.”
You shuddered as Andy’s hand cradled your head, gathering yourself and sniffling quietly as you finally straightened against him and shyly met his gaze. “I’m sorry.”
His smile was a sweet curl of his lips, his gaze tender as he cupped your cheek. “You don’t need to be sorry.”
Sliding your hand atop his, you leaned further into Andy’s touch, feeling the pit of dread in your stomach that had been there since those sires first sounded slowly starting to fade.
“Thank you for protecting me,” you whispered.
Andy’s smile dimmed a little, and he remained quiet, instead caressing your face with his fingers, his eyes glinting with a sudden desperate kind of need as he swayed closer to you.
“I would do anything for you,” Andy hummed, his words quiet but intense and making your belly flutter even as your hair stood on end.
It was hypnotic, the soft darkness in his gaze as he slowly dipped his face closer to yours. You knew his destination in the way his eyes flickered down to your lips, and still you didn’t stop him--didn’t object--as Andy closed the distance between you and pressed his lips to yours.
His kiss was electrifying, the first touch of his mouth to yours rocking your body with a shiver of awareness that propelled you flush against his chest. Andy groaned as he swept you closer in the circle of his arms, his head tilting and tongue questing until he was deepening the kiss and exploring the hot cavern of your mouth for the first time.
A desperate little whine escaped you as Andy’s tongue swirled with yours, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips as he moaned at the taste of you, the way you were arching against him and finally, finally pressing your sweet, tempting body where it belonged.
“Well you don’t waste any time, do you, Barber?”
You went still at the sound of Ransom Drysdale’s voice, tearing your lips from Andy’s to look over and find not one, but two additional inmates watching you with dark intent.
This time it wasn’t awareness that zipped up your spine, but stone cold dread as you glanced between Ransom and Steve Rogers.
You couldn’t help but take a frightened step back, retreating but keeping your movements slow as your mind struggled to comprehend what was happening.
Soon Steve and Ransom joined Andy, stepping up on either side of him as all three men watched you with varying looks of want.
“W-what is happening?” your voice was a quiet, trembling thing, your tearful gaze finally landing on Andy.
But he wouldn’t meet your eyes, his gaze firmly fixed on the floor as his fists curled at his sides.
“Hotshot lawyer here offered you up as a bargaining chip,” Ransom smirked, slapping a hand on Andy’s shoulder. “So he could get in on our little prison break.”
The shake of your head was immediate, the disbelief rippling through you as you pressed trembling fingers to your lips to stifle your sob. “He wouldn’t.”
“He did,” Steve hummed, licking his lips as his eyes wandered over you. “I strategized everything, Drysdale has the money and resources keeping us afloat on the outside as we lay low for a while, and Barber brought the entertainment.” You startled as his dark gaze shot to yours, a wicked smile curling his lips as he said, “You.”
“He wouldn’t do that,” you quavered, desperately wanting to believe your own words, but the longer Andy purposefully avoided your gaze, the harder it was to do so.
“Not only did he do it, but it was his idea,” Ransom said, a gleeful tone to his voice as you couldn’t quite stifle the small sound of devastation that spilled from the back of your throat. “Why do you think he was the one in the infirmary with you when we started the riot? He knew you’d never go with one of us, even if we protected you once shit went down, but you would go with him. And you did, just like he said you would.”
You actually felt it, your heart breaking as you stared at Andy in despair, your chest feeling suddenly hollow as the weight of his betrayal sank in, settled dark and heavy in the pit of your stomach.
And then Steve took a slow step forward--toward you--and you had enough self-preservation instincts, despite your head-spinning shock, to dart backward and away from him. Your back hit the wall and punched the air from your lungs as you whimpered Andy’s name, eyes desperate as you looked to him to help you despite his treachery.
His eyes met yours and they were miserable and shadowed with guilt. “I’m so sorry,” he said, wincing at the look of betrayal on your face.
Steve stepped into your eyeline, filling your vision as he crowded you against the wall and smirked at the muffled squeak of distress that fell from your lips as his massive hand curled around your throat.
“You’re lucky that we need to get moving, doc,” he murmured. His fingers twitched against your delicate neck, his heated gaze watching the quiver of your bottom lip. “Gotta get far away from here while everyone’s still distracted by the riot.”
But he didn’t move away, instead Steve dropped his forehead to yours, his hand wandering down your front, making a detour to grope your breast. His lips curled at your pained cry, his touch falling lower until he was bunching up your skirt and shoving his hand between your thighs.
“No, please!” You gasped as his hand cupped your heat, his fingers pressing hard and rough against your panties, until he could feel your warm folds against his fingers through the thin fabric.
“Fuck, it’s been so long,” Steve grunted, nuzzling along your cheek, his fingers rubbing harder against your cunt, until he could feel your panties growing damp without your permission. “There you go, look at you, you like it already.”
“No,” you sobbed, shaking your head, fingers trembling as you tried to push him away from you.
It was like shoving at a brick wall.
Steve’s touch didn’t relent until his fingers were wet with your slick, and only then did he pull his hand from between your legs, tipping your face up to his with his free hand and making you watch as he brought his shining fingers to his mouth and sucked your juices from his skin with an obscene groan.
“Fuck, we’re gonna have fun with you,” he rumbled.
“Not if we get caught, so let’s fucking go,” Ransom huffed, but his eyes were just as dark as Steve’s as he gazed at you with a type of violent yearning that had you hurrying to tug your skirt back into place.
Sighing, Steve grabbed you by the arm, dragging you away from the wall and roughly shoving you into Andy. “Your bargaining chip, your responsibility,” he told the other man before striding deeper into the dark, rundown building. “The entrance to the underground tunnels is this way, let’s move.”
Still shaking, your mind a mess of fear and disbelief--of hurt and betrayal--you could only stumble along beside Andy as he took your hand and led you further into the building, and further away from your life as you knew it.
You weren’t sure how long you walked the dark, dank underground tunnels with the three convicts, but it was long enough that your feet were aching in your heels as the darkness before you began to recede, distant light chasing the shadows from your surroundings.
Before long you were trailing Steve and Ransom out of what looked like a large drainage shallow, Andy attentively helping you onto more solid ground before leading you up and away from the trickling creek and onto higher land.
You shivered as you found yourself in the middle of dense woods, vaguely remembering how the prison was fairly close to a national forest, and feeling your stomach sink at the realization that it was unlikely you would be found anytime soon.
Especially if the riot was still in progress back at the jail.
“Let’s go,” Steve commanded, digging what looked like an old compass from his pocket and leading the way through the trees and undergrowth.
You hugged yourself tightly, painfully cold out here in the middle of the New England forest in autumn without any sort of coat or layers to keep you warm. You stiffened as Andy wrapped an arm around you and tugged you close, hand rubbing along your arm to try and warm you up.
Shoving away from him roughly, you avoided his gaze as you muttered, “I’d rather freeze to death.”
“Someone’s in the dog house,” Ransom snickered at Andy, giving your ass a harsh smack and squeeze that had you yipping as he stepped around you to follow behind Steve.
Andy murmured your name as he stepped up beside you, easily keeping pace with the way you stumbled through the leaves and tree roots in your impractical heels. “I’m so sorry, honey--”
“Don’t call me that,” you tried to snap at him, but your voice broke, tears brimming as you tried like hell to blink them back. “You promised to keep me safe.” Your breath caught, a sob rising up and you shook your head, hurrying away from Andy and keeping some distance between you as you trailed after the others.
Just as the sun began to dip, you followed Steve into a clearing, eyes going wide at the sight of an old, dusty Dodge Charger sitting in the middle of the barely there road that split the trees surrounding you.
Ransom whooped his delight, jogging over to the car and feeling around beneath the driver side tire well before pulling free a key. “I’ve never been so grateful to know such awful people who are so easy to buy off.”
His smile was shit-eating as he rounded the back of the car and popped the trunk, Steve and Andy moving closer to gaze into the depths as you lingered behind them.
Steve pulled forward a large duffle bag and you watched as he unzipped it to reveal a mess of men’s clothing and boots as well as some personal hygiene items. He was already unbuttoning his prison jumpsuit as your eyes landed on the various guns and knives piled in the corner of the trunk.
You froze at the sight, alarm bells ringing in your head, an inner voice hissing at you to make a run for it while they were all distracted with changing into normal clothes.
Taking a hesitant step back, you dropped your arms from around your torso, your fingers twitching nervously at your sides as you got an eyeful of three broad, muscled bodies that--in any other circumstance--would have had you wanting nothing more than to stay.
But then that urgent voice was yelling in your brain again, and you were watching as Ransom tugged a worn cable knit sweater over his head before reaching for a broad-handled hunting knife from the stash of weapons.
And you ran.
Twisting on your heel, you darted back into the woods, your footfalls loud and crashing as you heard the men shouting behind you. Keeping your arms raised to shield your face as much as possible, you weaved and dodged the trees and rocks littering the forest floor.
You didn’t make it far before a heavy weight was crashing into your back and you went down hard.
Screaming as you were roughly rolled onto your back, you slapped and clawed at Steve’s face as he wrestled with you, feeling both satisfied and nauseated as your nails caught on his cheek and drew down, carving three bloodied lines into his perfect face.
He growled as he caught your wrists and gathered them in one of his massive hands, the other circling your throat and squeezing hard until you stopped struggling once you realized you couldn’t breathe, your pathetic fight dying just as quickly as it had started.
Your eyes were big and frantic—pleading—as you went still and pliant beneath him, more tears wetting your cheeks as Steve snarled at you.
“Oh you just got yourself in a world of trouble, doc.”
Your vision was starting to go dark as his fingers crushed your windpipe, the frantic thrum of your heart beating loudly in your ears.
“I could have been nice,” Steve gritted, dipping close and avidly watching the way the light in your eyes was starting to dim. “I could have made it good for you.”
His mouth opened but whatever he was about to say next was replaced by a pained grunt as he was tackled to the ground beside you.
You gasped and coughed violently, your lungs burning as you heaved for air, and breathed in too much, choking as you curled into a ball and sobbed.
A few feet away, Steve and Andy wrestled, the latter straddling the former captain, cocking his fist back, and throwing a punch.
“You could have fucking killed her,” Andy growled, shoving away from Steve and standing over him, broad chest heaving. “You said you wouldn’t hurt her.”
“And you said you’d keep her under control,” Steve spat, swiping the blood from his split lip as he rolled to his feet and stood toe to toe with Andy. “You can try and play the role of savior all you want, Barber, but you’re not. Far from it. And now she knows the truth about you, and she fucking hates you for it.”
Another wordless snarl from Steve, and then you felt the weight of his furious gaze lingering on you before he was gone, stomping back the way you came as Andy turned to you.
“Come here, you’re okay,” he said quietly, dropping to his knees beside you and smoothing a hand over the side of your face.
“Please,” you croaked, your throat feeling like it was on fire after Steve’s assault. “Please just leave me behind,” you whispered, desperate gaze meeting Andy’s. “Please don’t make me go with them. They’ll kill me.”
“No they won’t, I won’t let them,” Andy promised.
“And what will you let them do to me?” You wailed. “Please, Andy. Don’t do this. You said that you would do anything for me, so let me go. Please.”
There was a flash of shame in his eyes but then it was like the shutters were being drawn as his jaw ticked and he watched you quietly.
“I would do anything for you, anything except let you go. This is the only way we can be together, and it won’t be like this forever. Just for a little while and then we’ll go our own way. Just you and me.”
Andy shushed you as you began to weep, his hands gentle as he gathered you close and pulled you to your feet alongside him.
“Just, be good, please,” he whispered as he led you back to the car. “Don’t make them angry. The more you cooperate, the easier it’ll be, for all of us.”
You didn’t reply, you just cried harder as you rejoined the others and avoided Steve’s violent glare as Andy ushered you to the car and settled in the back seat with you pulled close to his side.
Despite your predicament, you felt yourself falling asleep, all of the stress, anxiety, and overwhelm forming a cocktail of exhaustion that had you curled up against the car door. You sat as far away from Andy as you could get in the backseat as Steve drove and Ransom filled the passenger seat beside him.
You were jostled awake as the car pulled into a gravel lot, and you blinked your bleary gaze back into focus until you could read the bright red glowing letters of the motel sign before you.
Glancing around frantically, you realized it was dark now, and there were only a couple of other cars filling the lot of this motel seemingly in the middle of nowhere.
A soft, warm touch to your shoulder had you startling as you glanced over at Andy.
“We’re just stopping for the night,” he murmured. “Then we’ll be back on the road first thing in the morning.”
Up front, Steve rifled through the car’s glove box before pulling out a wad of cash and a worn trucker hat.
“I’ll go check in, don’t leave the car until I get back,” he said gruffly, pulling the hat low on his head before climbing from the car.
He stalked across the parking lot, to the far end of the motel building where the little corner check in office was located. He was only gone for a few minutes before returning and gesturing at you all as he rounded the car and grabbed the duffle bag from the trunk.
“Room 40,” he said, nodding at the very last door on the end of the building, on the total opposite side of where the check in office and other guest cars were located. He started to move that way but stopped at the sound of your frightened voice.
“Wait, we’re all sharing one room?”
Steve pivoted on his heel, his smile mean as he moved toward you, until you were pressed up against the side of the car and he was pressed up against you. Something dark and wicked--eager, too--glittered in his gaze, making all of your hair stand on end as he spoke.
“Oh, doc, we’re gonna share so much more than that.”
At your stricken look and the way your eyes shined with tears, Steve chuckled before stepping away and sauntering toward your motel room.
“He’s not wrong,” Ransom smirked, blowing you a kiss before trailing after Steve.
Andy took a step toward you but stilled as you warded him off with a shaking hand.
“Just, don’t,” you whispered, sniffling back a few tears as you hugged yourself tightly and slowly made your way to room 40.
Your stomach flipped unpleasantly once you stood in the doorway and found the tight, outdated space almost completely filled by one lone king sized bed.
The shower was already thundering on the other side of the closed bathroom door, and Ransom was lounging on the bed as his amused gaze lifted from the menu of TV channels he was reading to survey your look of horror.
“Oh, come on, kitten, don’t look so put out. We’re gonna fuck you so good, you’ll be begging us to take you with us when we leave here.”
Revulsion shook through you and you hugged yourself tighter, keeping as far away from the bed as you could before curling up in one of the two chairs that framed the small table adjacent to the door.
The door that Andy was closing behind him and locking with a soft click as his eyes quickly surveyed the room.
His gaze lingered on you, watching as you stubbornly stared at the floor to avoid his eyes, and kicked off your ruined heels before hugging your knees to your chest. He got a peek at the lacy black top of your thigh high as your skirt bunched up around your legs before he was forcing his gaze away.
When the shower suddenly cut out, Ransom quickly called, “Dibs!” Sliding from the bed, he rifled through the duffle bag before tugging free a pair of boxer briefs and flannel pants.
“Not that we’ll be dressed for long anyway,” he snickered.
You shuddered, closing your eyes against more tears as you rocked in your seat, anxiety and dread swirling in your belly as you barely held it together.
Steve, clad in only a towel slung low on his hips, was barely clearing the bathroom doorway before Ransom was darting inside and shutting the door behind him.
You glanced up at Steve’s towering form, unable to help it as your eyes danced along his tall, muscular body, lingering on the perfect slope of his broad shoulders before dropping to the adonis belt leading down into the top of his towel.
After a beat, your wide gaze flickered up, locking with Steve’s and you felt your face heat as he smirked at you before suddenly dropping his towel. You quickly glanced away, pressing your warm cheek to your knee as you stared at the closed blinds covering the window beside you.
Steve laughed. “Oh come on, doc, considering your profession and how pretty you are, I’m sure you’ve seen your fair share of naked men, no?”
You didn’t respond, you didn’t move a muscle, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing you react.
Steve must have known exactly what you were doing, because his voice was callous as he said, “Don’t worry, after tonight you’ll have a PHD in taking cock and being a dirty little whore.”
You flinched at his words, vision blurring with fresh tears as you held yourself tighter, sniffling quietly.
“Leave her alone,” Andy snapped at Steve, watching as the former captain pulled a pair of grey sweat pants from the duffle bag and tugged them on.
Steve laughed, but he didn’t say anything else as he stretched out on the bed, tucked his hands behind his head and closed his eyes.
Andy pulled the duffle bag across the bed and rifled through it, pulling free his own change of clean clothes for after his shower before digging deeper, until he found some clothes and items for you, just as he had requested of Ransom’s contact.
He unearthed a pair of panties and an oversized t-shirt for you to sleep in, as well as the small pink toiletries bag that he knew housed a variety of feminine hygiene products.
“Here,” he murmured, turning toward you and holding out the items like some kind of peace offering.
You ignored him, trying like hell to hold on to that anger and betrayal you felt for Andy, because it was better than drowning in the fear and anxiety that was just waiting to eat you alive.
But with that anger and betrayal came an overwhelming sense of sadness. A feeling of being utterly gutted and beyond devastated at Andy’s betrayal.
You couldn’t believe he would do something like this to you.
It was like your brain honest to God couldn’t even process such a concept.
And yet, here you were.
Sighing, Andy finally set your things on the table beside you before turning to glance up as Ransom emerged from the bathroom, clean and dressed in his pajamas before collapsing on the bed.
“I’m starving. I’m sure there’s some take out menus in here or something,” he muttered, pulling open the bedside drawer on the outdated nightstand. He made a sound of victory as he discovered a stack of menus. “What are we in the mood for? Chinese? Pizza? Burgers?”
You zoned out, allowing blissful static to fill your mind as the three male voices grew more distant as you stared at the wall beside you, unseeing.
You weren’t sure how much time had passed, but suddenly Andy was shaking you back to awareness. His hair was wet from his shower, the t-shirt he was wearing clinging to his broad frame as he crouched in front of you.
“Why don’t you go wash up? There should be plenty of hot water left.” His hand lifted, hesitant, and you watched as his fingers gently circled your ankle, his eyes watching as he touched your bare skin before lifting to your tearful gaze. “It’ll make you feel better.”
“The only thing that would make me feel better is if you let me go.”
“Well that’s not gonna happen,” Steve rumbled as he reclined against the headboard as Ransom spoke softly on the room phone. His dark gaze met yours--unwavering--as he leaned over, toward you, until you were recoiling from him. He continued, “So either you go enjoy a shower, or you come over here and ride my cock until dinner gets here.”
You were on your feet so quickly that you made yourself dizzy, holding a hand to your head as both Steve and Ransom laughed. You darted past Andy and toward the bathroom, but he grabbed your wrist, stilling your escape.
“Don’t--” you started.
But Andy only released his grip on you and held up the clothes and toiletries bag you’d left behind on the table.
You grabbed the items from him before scurrying into the bathroom, locking the door shut behind you, and catching yourself on the edge of the old, cracked counter as you met your frightened gaze in the mirror above the sink.
You stared at yourself for a long moment, mesmerized by the evident terror in your own gaze--something you had never seen before--making it feel like you were staring at the reflection of a complete and total stranger.
And then your vision was blurring with more tears as you held your hand over your mouth to muffle your sobs, unwilling to entertain the men on the other side of the door anymore than you would be forced to soon enough.
You’d barely been able to nibble at the food you’d been given after your shower, your appetite gone and your heart shattering just a little bit more when you saw that Andy had Ransom order your favorite sandwich, one he’d only seen you eat a couple of times when he had stayed in the infirmary, but a small detail he’d noticed and remembered all the same.
Curled up in the same chair as earlier, your eyes were starting to grow heavy, lingering shut for longer and longer between blinks as the minutes wore on.
You didn’t hear the men finish their meal, locked away in your own little world, but then a heavy hand was falling on your shoulder and jerking you awake.
You blinked up at Steve, feeling your stomach flip at the look of dark desire he was giving you.
“It’s playtime, doc”
“W-what?” You yelped as he grabbed your arm and yanked you to your feet, tugging you close until you were stumbling into his chest.
“No, please! Don’t do this,” you pleaded, your voice breaking as you stared up at Steve with frightened eyes.
“Begging looks good on you,” he hummed, dropping his head close enough that his nose brushed yours and you gasped. “Gonna have you crying for me soon enough, especially after that stunt you pulled earlier.”
“No--” you shook your head, struggling in his hold.
“But Barber gets you first since you’re his bargaining chip,” Steve sighed his disappointment, turning and roughly throwing you onto the bed.
You pushed yourself up to sit in the middle of the mattress, your cheeks wet with tears as your eyes frantically darted around, looking for an escape.
But there was none.
Ransom lounged to your right, Steve was sitting to your left, and Andy was perched at the foot of the bed, his face shadowed with a strange mixture of remorse and desire as his eyes slowly trailed over you.
Andy’s gaze lingered on your bare legs and the way your t-shirt had ridden up indecently high on your thighs. He licked his lips before his eyes flickered up to yours.
“I promise, I’m gonna make you feel so good, honey.” He reached for you, but you scrambled away.
You didn’t get far before Ransom and Steve were each gripping one of your arms and yanking you back to the center of the bed, back to Andy.
He gently touched your ankles, then your calves, his palms cradling your warm, soft skin like you were something delicate.
Something he cherished.
It made a sob hitch in your chest, because how many times had you secretly fantasized about being on the receiving end of that kind of look--that kind of intimate touch--from Andy Barber?
Only the reality was nothing like you had ever imagined.
Not with both Ransom and Steve gripping you tighter, leaning in and trapping you between their bodies as Andy spread your legs open and shifted closer. Until he was kneeling between your splayed thighs and gazing down at you like you were his own personal salvation.
As Andy’s hands smoothed up your inner thighs, you knew he could feel you trembling, but that didn’t stop his wandering touch. His hands cupped your hips, giving you an exploratory squeeze that had a grunt lodging in his throat as Andy’s gaze blew dark with lust before your eyes.
His touch grew bolder then, his fingers tucking beneath the hem of your t-shirt and slowly pushing it up your body. He smoothed his palms along every new inch of revealed skin until you were squirming and your hand was shooting out to stop the ascent of your shirt just beneath the swell of your chest.
Andy stared at the soft underside of your breast, his thumb gently tracing you there, his gaze snapping up to yours at the sound of the quiet gasp falling from your lips.
You stared at him, your eyes shining and pleading as your bottom lip quivered. Your body thrummed with awareness and anticipation despite the sick pit in your stomach as you felt the burning stares of Ransom and Steve, felt the former’s hot breath on the side of your neck as the latter trailed his fingers along the outside of your bare thigh.
“Please don’t do this,” you whispered to Andy.
“I know you want me just as much as I want you,” Andy murmured, tongue sneaking out to wet his bottom lip as his gaze dropped to your exposed tummy.
His thumbs gently caressed your skin, eyes glittering with a hint of smugness as you shivered in response, trembling for him harder as his gaze met yours.
“No more lines to toe, no more rules to follow,” Andy sighed, his hands cupping your sides and gliding up, until his touch was moving beneath your t-shirt and his thumbs were circling the hard peaks of your nipples. “Now it’s just you and me.”
“And them,” you cried, biting your lip against a moan as Andy palmed your breasts.
It was as if your acknowledgment of them spurred them into action, and both Ransom and Steve yanked you backwards, until you were flat on the bed. They settled on their sides on either side of you as Andy stretched his body over yours.
“Don’t mind us,” Ransom murmured against your ear, giving it a gentle nibble. “We’re just spectators at the moment. The deal was that we each get some one on one time with you tonight to break you in.”
“Emphasis on ‘break you,’” Steve taunted.
You shook your head, crying as all three men worked together to undress you. Ransom and Steve tugged your shirt up and over your head before tossing it aside, and Andy rid you of your panties before shifting down the bed with a gravelly hum, his dark gaze intently fixed on your bare cunt.
“Gonna make you feel so good,” he breathed, settling between your thighs and licking his lips.
“No!” you cried, fruitlessly squirming in Ransom and Steve’s hold as you tried to snap your legs closed, but Andy easily pressed a palm to each of your thighs and pushed them back open again.
You gasped as he parted your folds with his thumbs, going rigid as he dragged one of them up the cut of you before gently circling your clit.
Andy’s eyes looked up the length of your quivering body, watching your reactions as he touched you.
Choking on a sob as you felt yourself growing wet, you squeezed your eyes shut as you sagged back against the bed, panting.
It burned at the back of your throat like bile, the hatred you felt for yourself in that moment.
Although you knew your physical response was purely biological, it was a certain kind of torture—a mind fuck—to have someone you cared for, to have Andy, making you feel this way, against your will, with others so eagerly watching.
This is my punishment, you thought fleetingly as a fresh wave of tears wet your lashes. This is what I get for feeling this way for someone like him.
“Yeah, that’s it, just give in,” Ransom cooed, jarring you from your thoughts. “You wasted all those years and money on med school, when this is what you were really made for.”
You were still processing Ransom’s awful words when you felt the heavy, hot drag of Andy’s tongue along your cunt. Your back bowed, a loud keen spilling from your lips as he tugged the hood of your clit back and lashed the sensitive bundle of nerves with his tongue.
“Fuck, listen to those pretty sounds she’s making,” Steve groaned, massive hand reaching out to squeeze your breast.
“She tastes incredible,” Andy panted as he pulled away from you. “Fuck, she’s so wet.” He spread open the petals of your sex with his fingers, his thumb strumming your clit and watching the way your pussy weeped for him. “Christ.”
“Bet she’s a squirter,” Ransom smirked, dipping low to nip along the hinge of your jaw. “Isn’t that right, kitten? It’s always the quiet ones.”
You shook your head, your face burning from humiliation--and something else, something that had shame blooming to life deep in the core of you--as Steve and Ransom laughed.
“We’re gonna find out,” Ransom promised. “Once it’s my turn.”
You didn’t have long to dwell on that before Andy was back to eating your cunt so enthusiastically that you had no chance at stifling the cries and moans he was pulling from you.
His nose bumped against your swollen clit, his sharp jaw flexing relentlessly as he touched and teased and tasted you with his tongue. You could feel the prickle of his beard on your most sensitive flesh, and then his tongue was teasing along your quivering entrance before catching and pressing inside.
Your cry was sharp as you arched up, mindlessly rutting your hips against Andy’s face as Steve and Ransom’s hands eagerly mapped the trembling terrain of your body.
“Fucking look at her lose it,” Steve rumbled. “I knew she’d fucking love this, the little slut.”
“God, I can’t wait to feel her around my cock,” Ransom groaned, fingers twisting your nipple hard, lips curling against your jaw as he pulled a ragged keen from you with another harsh pinch.
From between your legs--and against your cunt--Andy moaned, at the flavor of you coating his tongue, at the way you were ardently fucking his face, at the sweet sounds of ruin falling from your lips.
His tongue gave a few more firm strokes along your channel before he was retreating and kissing your clit before sucking it into his mouth. He pressed two thick fingers inside of you, groaning at the smooth, velvety feel of your tight walls constricting around him, and then he was zeroing in on that spongy spot and--
You came suddenly, and hard, your body going taut as your muscles seized, a high pitched cry ringing around the room as you clenched and pulsed around Andy’s still questing fingers.
“God, you’re gorgeous,” he hummed, fingers still languidly moving inside of you as you went pliant beneath him, sweat dotting your brow and eyes fluttering.
“I’m so fucking hard right now,” Ransom bemoaned, trying to mouth at your neck before Andy shot him a look.
“Wait your fucking turn,” he grunted, yanking his shirt over his head and flinging it aside before removing the rest of his clothes.
Huffing, Ransom shifted away, sharing an annoyed look with Steve as they both settled back against the headboard to give you and Andy some space.
Your brain was scrambled already, a distant part of you recalling how sensitive you were, how responsive your body was when it came to sex, and how you had almost forgotten because it had been so long since you’d had it.
Since before your job at the prison.
Since before your crush on Andy Barber.
Your body was already well on its way to being wrung out, and you knew you were just getting started.
These were just a few of the many rampant thoughts filling your foggy brain when Andy moved back over you. His bare body was thick with muscles and decorated with a number of tattoos that you didn’t expect, making your wide eyes linger as a different kind of warmth pooled at your center.
As Andy settled his weight over you, you felt the heavy, hot press of him against your stomach and gasped.
“See what you do to me,” he whispered, something soft in his gaze as he touched your cheek with his knuckles.
He moaned as he rocked against you, granting himself a little bit of friction as his hard cock dug into your belly. Andy dipped his head to kiss you, and you didn’t resist the eager press of his lips, still dazed by everything that was happening and your earlier orgasm.
And yet, deep down, your heart ached as the sting of his deception lingered, even as a part of you yearned for this very thing from Andy. A few tears leaked from your closed eyes and rained down your temples as he gently cupped your face and kissed you breathless.
You tried your best to focus on how good he was making you feel, wanting desperately to get lost in the physical sensations and escape the two unwanted and heavy gazes of Ransom and Steve from just a few feet away.
When Andy pulled away, he didn’t go far, leaning his forehead against yours as his hand moved between your bodies. You felt the tip of him dragging along your folds and gasped, shaking fingers clutching at Andy’s arms.
“Wanted to really work you over, honey,” he murmured, breath hitching as the head of his cock dipped against your entrance. “But fuck, I can’t wait any longer. Need to feel you.”
That was all the warning you got before he was spearing into you slowly, his cock thick and hot and the biggest you’d ever had as he stretched you open and groaned at the wild pulse and flutter of your cunt around him.
“Oh fuck,” Andy moaned, giving a few more rocks of his hips before he was bottoming out and you were mewling at the invasion.
The feeling of being completely and utterly full was too much--overwhelming--and you found yourself clinging to Andy desperately. You wrapped your arms around him, your hands pressing into the firm muscles of his back and tugging him closer, seeking comfort as your leg curled over his hip and Andy slid into you even deeper, grunting low in your ear.
“You feel so good,” he whispered against your lips, giving you a slow, sweet kiss as he sank even further against you. His hand was a warm press against your cheek, gently cradling your face as he kissed you deeply, his hips slowly starting to rock against you.
And you lost yourself to him, everything else falling away as Andy kissed you, worshipped you with his lips and tongue, as the rhythm of his hips began to pick up.
The next quick retreat of his cock had you nearly feeling empty before Andy was driving into you hard and punching a wrecked moan from between your swollen lips. You were mindless as you framed his rosy face with your hands and canted your hips for a better angle.
Another brutal snap of his hips, and Andy was grinding against you, making your clit sing as a shiver of ecstasy raced up your spine and you arched beneath him with a broken cry.
“That’s it, you’re doing so good for me, honey,” Andy panted, grunting as he pounded into you harder, the surge and retreat of his cock going faster.
He moaned as you clenched around him hard in response to his words, and then he was dropping his sweaty forehead to yours, his hand skimming down your belly as he fucked you with abandon, chasing his own release while his thumb rubbed circles on your clit until you were finding yours.
Bliss crashed into you like a tsunami, pleasure rippling over every inch of your overwrought body as you keened and mewled as your body rocked and quaked in visceral delight.
“Yeah, fuck,” Andy gasped as your tight heat squeezed him so hard it almost hurt. He rutted into you frantically, right on the edge of his own sweet relief. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m gonna--”
You felt the twitch of Andy’s cock as he thrust into you hard and lingered, a hot rush flooding your insides as he moaned and gasped against your lips. The next few ruts of his hips were forceful and deep, making you whimper as each final plunge had another warm spurt of cum coating your fluttering walls.
With one final drive of his hips, Andy sagged against you with a quiet moan, tucking his face against the crook of your neck as he held you tight and trembled on top of you.
Your head was filled with static as you came down from your high, your body still twitching with aftershocks as you felt Andy breathe in deep. And then he was pushing himself up over you and gently cupping your face.
He kissed you slowly, softly, his lips lingering against yours as he whispered, “I’m so sorry, please forgive me. I don’t have a choice.”
Your brows had barely begun to furrow in confusion before he was pulling away from you and suddenly Steve was taking his place.
He was naked and slowly fisting his cock as he knelt at your feet, smirking as the look of confusion on your face slowly morphed to terror.
Swallowing, your eyes slowly left Steve and landed on Andy, but he was avoiding your pleading gaze as he quickly pulled on his clothes.
“A-andy, please,” you whispered.
He ignored you, didn’t even look at you, as he said, “I’ll be in the car. Turn on the light outside of the room to let me know when you’re both done.”
And then he was gone, the door shutting behind him with a quiet click of finality as he left you alone and at the mercy of Steve and Ransom.
You whimpered, swallowing a sob as you tried to move away from Steve with a quiet, “no, please,” but he just caught you by your knees and yanked you closer.
“Hope you didn’t think we’d all be worshipping you like Barber,” Steve mocked.
His big hand settled on your quivering stomach and slowly slid up your body as he stretched out over you, until your faces were aligned and his hand was circling your throat.
“I still owe you for earlier, for trying to run and then scratching up my face.”
You shook your head, tears springing to your eyes. “No, I’m sorry--”
“Oh,” Steve chuckled lowly, his fingers flexing around your throat. “You will be.”
You shrieked as he suddenly pulled away, grabbed your hips, and flipped you onto your stomach. He yanked you up onto your knees, and you were just getting your hands underneath you when Steve tsked and gripped the back of your neck, shoving your face into the rumpled blankets of the bed.
“Don’t fucking move,” he snarled. He gave your neck a warning squeeze that had you chirping in pain, and then he slapped your ass hard and shoved your legs apart as far as they would go.
Your words morphed into a scream as Steve roughly drove into you, his cock bigger than Andy’s, and thicker too, as it stretched you painfully and burned with every single inch that was forced into your trembling body.
There was no moment to adjust, no teasing your clit to make it feel good for you or help you to your own release, just raw, primal fucking as Steve set a brutal pace that had you crying into the sheets with every harsh snap of his hips.
“Fuck,” he grunted, massive hands framing your waist and digging into your skin hard enough to bruise as he viciously yanked you back onto his cock and into every forward thrust of his hips. “I knew this uptight pussy would fit like a fucking glove.”
His words fell away, replaced by groans and grunts, as he fucked you, his hands pulling your ass cheeks apart and watching the way your swollen pussy swallowed his cock over and over again.
You buried your tear-stained face against the blankets, biting your lip against the pained noises bubbling up from the back of your throat. And then you were going rigid as Steve’s thumb brushed over your puckered hole.
“N-no, please, don’t!”
“Bet you’ve never let anyone fuck this ass before, huh?” Steve panted, the drive and drag of his hips never faltering.
You whined, in fear and at the indignity of it, sobbing as you felt Steve spit on your asshole, crudely lubing you up before pressing his thumb against your tight ring.
It took a beat, but then your body surrendered to his wicked touch, his thumb sinking into your virgin hole and making you go stiff at the unfamiliar and painful intrusion.
“Shit, she’s squeezing my cock so fucking hard,” Steve gritted, the quest of his thumb pushing harder, going deeper, working in tandem with the relentless drive of his cock until your body was locking up with an unexpected orgasm.
Steve laughed as you spasmed beneath him with a pathetic moan, your hands fisting the blankets as you shook, your body feeling both wrecked and like it didn’t even belong to you as you clenched and fluttered around Steve’s unrelenting cock.
“That’s it, doc, milk my cock like the dirty little slut that we all know you are,” Steve hissed.
He railed into you harder, relishing in every pained chirp and quiet plea, until he was hurtling toward his own release and filling you up with a guttural moan. A few more hard, deep thrusts shoved his spend deeper before his hips met your ass for the final time.
Steve sighed in satisfaction, his hand smoothing along your trembling ass as his thumb gave your puckered hole a final stroke that had you gasping for him. He smirked, pulling his thumb from your ass, humming at the quiet squelch and the way your pretty hole slowly winked closed before his eyes.
He wasn’t gentle as he pulled out of you, laughing as you whined your misery before collapsing on the bed and curling into a ball.
You hugged yourself tightly, your body sore and exhausted, your pussy overstimulated and tender and leaking cum as you tried to catch your breath, a quiet, distant part of you beyond thankful for your birth control implant.
The room was quiet around you, and then you felt the bed shift as a soft, warm hand gently smoothed up your back. The touch was much softer than Steve’s and you knew it was Ransom who loomed over you now, eager for his turn.
You began to cry, covering your face with your hands at the thought of being used again, feeling so dirty to the depths of your very soul that you didn’t think you’d ever feel clean again.
“Shhh, it’s okay, kitten, I can be nice,” Ransom crooned, pressing a chain of soft kisses along your shoulder and then up the side of your throat. “You just do what I say, and I’ll take care of you.”
You flinched as his free hand slid between your legs to cup your core. “No! Please, it hurts, I hurt.”
“I’m gonna make it hurt so good, you’ll be begging for it,” Ransom hummed, rolling you onto your back and shoving his way between your splayed legs. “Fuck, look at that pretty pussy. Gonna make her fucking weep for me.”
You jerked as he drew his fingers up your slit, whining at the overstimulation. “I can’t.” You clawed at Ransom’s hand, trying to yank his touch away. “Don’t!”
Sighing, he gathered your wrists, glaring at you before his eyes were flickering up to Steve. “Hold her down for me, will ya? I’ll need both my hands to ruin this cunt properly.”
They both ignored your whimper, Steve grinning as he propped himself up on his side above your head, still naked and easily pinning both of your wrists to the bed with one hand.
And then Ransom was shifting lower, until his face was level with your puffy folds and he was kissing along your messy core and moaning at your sweet little noises of distress and mortification. He cleaned you with his mouth, his tongue dragging along your heat and shoving into your quivering hole, making you keen.
He slung a heavy arm over your hips to hold you down, working his way back up to your clit, tongue torturing your little pleasure pearl with kitten licks before he was tugging back the hood of it to give him better access.
“Is she, or isn’t she?” he drawled, his thumb working your sensitive bundle of nerves, gaze glittering as he watched the trickle of fluid from between your folds. “Mmmm, I think she may be.”
And then he was strumming your clit relentlessly, his thumb insistent and brutal in it’s torture as you cried out and your back bowed.
White noise buzzed in your head, growing louder and louder as catching your breath became more difficult, then impossible.
You were toeing the line of pleasure and pain, begging Ransom to stop and shrieking as he gave your pussy a harsh slap. Your gasp was sharp, your body trilling at the new sensation—overwrought—and you couldn’t suppress the moan that slipped out as Ransom gave your cunt another hard spank.
“Yeah, go on, kitten, let go for me. You’re almost there, I know it.” One more painful slap between your legs, and then Ransom’s thumb was back at your clit, rubbing hard, and then harder, circling and circling until you finally, blessedly snapped.
Your body bowed with the force of your release, and you could actually hear it gushing out of you, the rush of fluid squirting from your pussy as you writhed and trembled and sobbed because it felt so fucking good.
“Fuck, that’s it, make a mess for me,” Ransom groaned, incessantly tapping your clit with his fingers, the contact ringing loud and wet as a second orgasm rippled through you.
You were senseless as another wave of wetness gushed from your cunt, a distant part of you amazed because you had no idea you could do this, and it was like you had no choice but to surrender to the overwhelming pleasure washing through you.
Being ripped from you against your will.
“Christ,” Steve grunted, his grip on your wrists tightening reflexively as he stared down the length of you. “For all her crying and fussing, she’s ruining the fucking mattress because she likes it so much, the slut.”
Ransom snickered as you collapsed back against the bed.
You were incoherent and completely spent, your body trembling and covered in sweat. All you could do was moan weakly as Ransom shoved two fingers inside of you and gave your pussy a few experimental pumps as he settled on top of you.
“Feels good, doesn’t it?” he murmured, knocking his nose against yours as he curled his fingers and smirked as you gasped and spasmed beneath him.
Ransom’s head dipped closer, his dark eyes dancing between yours, and then he was kissing you. His lips worked against yours eagerly, a groan sounding from the back of his throat before he was gripping your face and deepening the kiss.
You didn’t resist, even as the flavor of your own ruin coated your tongue, your body well beyond fucked out and on autopilot as your lips unconsciously tried to meet his press for press.
Ransom’s lips were still teasing against yours when he guided his cock to your entrance and sank into you with one powerful stroke.
You mewled against his mouth, eyes filling with tears at the burn of him filling you up, another unwanted invasion despite the way your cunt was gripping and pulsing around his cock, hungry for more.
“Mmm, I always thought you’d be a good lay,” Ransom said, sliding his cock almost all the way out before surging back into you and groaning his delight. “Fuck, I love being right.”
He railed into you half a dozen times before he was suddenly pushing away from you and you were blinking up at him in a haze of confusion. And then you were groaning as your sore body protested the way Ransom was jostling and rearranging you, nearly folding you in half as he perched your ankles on his shoulders, tilted your hips, and shoved his cock back into you with a quiet snarl.
“Ah fuck,” he gritted, smirking at your pathetic whines and whimpers as he settled into a frenzied pace and stroked into you so deep, you swore you could feel him in your belly. “Not gonna last long, not with this tight pussy being so greedy for me.”
You jerked as his thumb dropped to your swollen clit and began to trace light circles. “No, I can’t,” your wail was quiet as you struggled against Steve’s hold on your wrists to no avail.
“You fucking will,” Ransom panted, slamming into you harder, lingering for a beat as he circled his hips and moaned. “Fuck. Wanna feel you cum around my cock. You know how long it’s been since I had a cunt squeeze me like this?”
With every stroke of his cock, Ransom had you crying out, unable to catch your breath as that coil wound tighter and tighter in your belly one last time.
He was relentless and determined, pistoning into you over and over again, his thumb pressing harder against your clit until you were cumming with a strangled cry of complete and utter ruin.
“Ah fuck, that’s it,” Ransom moaned, stilling for a beat and basking in the feel of your cunt pulsing and gripping and sucking him in deeper. As you went limp beneath him, your eyes fluttering shut and staying that way, Ransom finally let go.
Husky grunts and groans spilled from his lips as he fucked you. The sound of skin slapping and your wet, messy cunt squelching rose up around him until he was driving into you hard and shouting his release, head thrown back and the tendons in his neck popping as he emptied himself into your overworked cunt.
“Shit,” Ransom panted, giving a few more pumps of his hips before bottoming out one last time as your pussy spasmed around him. He sagged against you, taking a moment to catch his breath.
“I’m pretty sure she passed out.”
At the sound of Steve’s voice, Ransom glanced up at him, watching in amusement as he released your wrists before picking up one of your hands and dropping it back to the bed.
It flopped there, and you remained still, your face lax and shining with sweat as Ransom gently tapped your cheek with his knuckles. “Kitten?”
When you didn’t respond in the least, didn’t even move, Ransom laughed. “Well, wouldn’t be the first time I fucked a girl unconscious.”
“Pretty sure you had a little help getting her there,” Steve said dryly.
Grinning, Ransom pulled away from you, humming as he eased his softening cock from your pussy and sat back on his heels, watching cum trickle down your messy folds.
“After that filthy workout, I need another shower,” he smirked, giving your naked body a lingering look before rising to his feet. “You want me to give Barber the green light to come back in?”
Steve watched your unconscious form, big hand trailing along your naked chest, fingers plucking at your hard nipples. It took a moment for him to pull his gaze from you, so mesmerized was he by all that bare and dewy skin.
Finally, his eyes lifted to Ransom, a smirk curling his lips as he replied, “Nah, let’s leave him out there to stew in his misery for a little while longer, the prick.”
You woke with a jolt, the slight movement enough to make your body scream in protest.
You slapped a hand over your mouth to stifle your whimper of pain, going very still as you remembered where you were--what had happened--as you tried to focus on the dark and quiet motel room around you.
You weren’t sure what time it was or how long you had been out. The last thing you remembered was Ransom taking his turn with you and then…blissful nothing.
You could feel that you were still in bed and surrounded by them, your eyes slowly adjusting to the dark. You could just make out Andy on your right, Steve on your left, and Ransom sprawled at the foot of the bed.
All three men were sleeping, their breathing deep and even as you felt the familiar sting of tears at the back of your eyes at the sheer force of relief you felt to be the only one awake right now.
To not be consumed by them, filled by them, fucked by them, hurt by them in this moment.
You suppressed a shudder as flashes of the night replayed in your mind, the way they had violated your body, used you for their own pleasure, all three of them, one after another.
You were here, enduring this, because of Andy.
Another feeling swiftly rose up within you, and you carefully crawled from the bed, around the big, sleeping bodies of your captors, and fled to the bathroom.
You didn’t even check to make sure the door was shut all the way before you were darting toward the toilet, dropping to your knees, and retching.
It felt like you threw up everything you had eaten in the past month, your body rebelling the earlier abuse the only way it knew how, until you were weak and shaking and curled up on the cold tile floor.
That’s how Andy found you a short while later, shivering as you dozed, your face still covered in a sheen of sweat and sick staining your bottom lip.
Sighing, he closed the door, locking it with a quiet click, before wetting a wash cloth at the sink and grabbing the bottle of mouthwash on the counter.
Kneeling beside you, Andy murmured your name, hand smoothing over your clammy cheek as he gently cleaned your mouth.
You whined as he tugged you up to a sit, making you rinse your mouth before using the wash cloth to mop some of the sweat from your forehead.
“How long have you been in here?” He asked, rubbing your back gently.
“I dunno. Not long.”
“Do you feel like you’re gonna be sick again?”
You shook your head. “I don’t think I have anything left in me to be sick.”
You realized it in that moment, as you tried to discern how you felt, that you felt like your body no longer belonged to you, no longer existed the way that it always had before.
And it didn’t.
You were forever changed now.
Dirty in a way that would never come clean, because it wasn’t just your body that was marred with a kind of unspeakable filth you couldn’t even comprehend let alone begin to undo…
It was like all that you were, the deepest most sacred part of you--your very soul--was irrevocably tainted and forever tarnished.
Ruined in a way that could never be repaired.
“I feel so dirty,” you whispered, your voice breaking as your vision swam with tears. You dropped your face into your trembling hands, riddled with a strange combination of feeling too much and feeling hollow to your core.
“We can get you cleaned up, honey,” Andy whispered. “Come on.”
You didn’t fight him as he pulled you to your feet, wrapping an arm around your back as he used his free hand to start the shower.
It was then, as you watched him undress, that you realized you were naked, and it hadn’t even occurred to you until that moment. You hadn’t felt vulnerable by it. All you felt was a jarring sense of unending horror, loss, and grief.
Because you had died out there in that motel room tonight.
Who you woke up as this morning, the kind, caring, compassionate doctor at Steelridge Correctional Center, had ceased to exist.
She was gone now, lost forever.
And all that was left was a fragile, nearly broken shell of a person.
You must have spaced out, lost in your dark, mournful thoughts, because it was the pounding of the hot water on your back that brought you into awareness again.
You turned into the spray of water, closing your eyes and tilting your head back as you let it wash over you, pretending that it really was cleansing you in the way you so desperately wanted.
Blinking your eyes open, you used your fingers to gently clean away the mess between your legs, wincing as your abused core burned and ached, despite your delicate touch.
Suddenly there was a heat at your back even hotter than the water, and you went still as Andy pressed flush against you.
His beard scraped your shoulder as he pressed soft kisses to your skin. His chest hair tickled your back as his hands mapped the flare of your waist as he pulled you against him and rutted his growing hardness against your ass.
The hollowness you had been feeling was slowly being replaced by a deep seated anguish and a red hot fury.
It only grew as Andy turned you toward him and pressed you against the cold tile wall.
His hand dipped to your thighs and you caught his wrist. “Don’t. I can’t. It hurts too much.”
Andy pressed a kiss to the crown of your head, shaking free of your grip. “S’okay, honey, you can still make me feel good.”
You felt your stomach churn as he curled your hand around his cock.
Andy moaned quietly as he made your fingers squeeze the velvety steel of his length. He pressed his forehead to yours, staring down between your bodies as he guided your touch, directed the drag of your thumb along the vein at the underside of his cock until he was groaning.
You tried to recoil, to pull your hand away, but Andy’s hold only grew tighter as he rutted his hardness into your forced grip. His free hand found your hip, holding you in place as you tried to squirm away.
Thankfully he didn’t last long, giving a throaty grunt as he came a few minutes later, the white ropes of his cum hitting your stomach and dribbling over your hand.
As you listened to Andy’s panting breaths, and stared at the way his hand still held yours captive around his softening cock, you realized he was the worst of your three captors.
That despite the brutality Steve had shown you earlier, you’d take that over Andy’s deceptively soft touches and empty promises any day of the week.
How had he fooled you?
Emotion bubbled up your throat as you finally tore your hand away from him.
“I was so stupid!” You cried, glaring up at him as he watched you with a stunned look on his face. “I thought you cared about me! I thought you were a good man, but I was wrong.”
“Honey—“ Andy lifted his hand to your face, trying to placate you.
“No!” You slapped it away. “Don’t touch me.”
You shoved him away, yanking the shower curtain open and stumbling out of the small space. You pulled a clean towel from the cabinet and dried yourself off before wrapping the towel around your body and pressing yourself into the furthest corner of the tiny bathroom.
Andy turned off the water, reaching for his own towel before stepping out from the shower. Sighing, he just stared at you for a moment, guilt and indifference going to war across his handsome features before he finally murmured your name.
You shook your head. “Please just, bring me some clean clothes and leave me alone.”
“You need to come back to bed,” Andy said.
“You don’t have a choice!” he snapped, his voice harsh despite how quiet it was, his eyes burning at you as you flinched but maintained his stare. “This isn’t up for debate. I told you I can’t keep you safe if you’re being difficult.”
You laughed, but it was a sharp, mirthless thing. “Is that what you think you’ve done so far? Kept me safe? Are you really that goddamn delusional?”
“If I didn’t protect you back at the prison, you’d be dead right now.”
“I would rather be dead than have endured what I did tonight because of you.”
Andy’s stance deflated as his face went soft, his gaze filled with despair. “You don’t mean that.”
Your lower lip trembled as you spoke your realization aloud, “It scares me how much I do.”
And suddenly you were weeping as you sank back against the wall, smothering the inhuman and distraught wails spilling from your lips so you didn’t wake the others.
Andy was on you in a heartbeat, pulling you into his arms and hugging you tightly as he rubbed your back and whispered words of comfort you couldn’t comprehend because you were lost in the deep abyss of your pain.
Rocked at the realization that, for the first time ever, you truly did welcome death if it meant you would escape another night locked away with the three sick and twisted men who had your life—and your body—in the palm of their hands.
You stood there for a long time, until you were all cried out and feeling even more numb than you did before. Your eyes were swollen and heavy with exhaustion, and you didn’t even resist as Andy dressed you in the clean t-shirt he had grabbed from the duffle bag just outside the bathroom door.
You didn’t argue as he led you back to bed and waited for you to curl up in the middle, between him and Steve.
You were too exhausted to object when he curled around you, spooning you and hugging you to his chest.
“I promise it will get better,” Andy whispered against your ear, holding you tighter as you closed your eyes.
One last thought whispered through your mind as you finally surrendered to sleep.
I know that it will only get worse.
The next time you woke up, it was your own pained mewl that pulled you back to consciousness.
Your eyes fluttered open and after a few sleepy blinks, Steve’s face came into focus just inches from your own. Your gaze went wide--terrified--and then your body tensed as you felt his big, rough hand sneaking between your legs.
“No, please,” you whispered the familiar—and steadfastly ignored—plea, voice trembling and tears catching on your lashes as you clutched his wrist.
“Don’t do that,” Steve murmured, pulling his hand from your center and catching yours. His touch was surprisingly gentle as he lifted your palm to his face and pressed a kiss to the center.
He smirked as your breath caught in shock at the soft gesture, but the curl of his lips wasn’t as mean as usual. “Gonna show you how nice I can be. If you’re good for me, I can be real good to you, doc.”
You couldn’t keep your face indifferent, features twisting with disbelief as you watched him.
Steve laughed quietly. “Guess I woke up on the right side of the bed this morning. Freedom and some good pussy will do that to a guy.”
His fingers danced down your side, skipping over your hip, taking their time to skim and grope along the dips and valleys of your body.
“You know how many times I’ve imagined fucking you? You must have known what I was thinking every time I saw you, the way you were always so nervous around me, so sweet and jumpy anytime I came to the infirmary.”
His hand finally dipped back toward your center, and you couldn’t help but press your thighs together, petrified at the thought of Steve taking you the way he had last night.
“Please, I’m still sore,” you whimpered, resisting the urge to claw at his face as he easily shoved his hand between your legs.
“Aw, I’ll make it feel better,” he cooed.
You stiffened as Steve’s fingers delicately brushed over your folds, a tiny part of you grateful that it didn’t hurt as much as you feared it would, especially after last night.
But it didn’t feel good either.
You wouldn’t let it.
There had to be something you could control in this situation.
When Steve circled your clit, you jerked at the throb, gasping as your eyes watered even more. “Steve, I can’t—“
He surged forward, kissing away your objections, his mouth moving against yours as fiercely as his body had pressed against yours last night.
Steve groaned when his tongue touched yours, his free hand sliding against the curve of your cheek and tugging you closer as he explored the inside of your mouth with his tongue.
His kiss distracted you enough that you didn’t realize how insistently his fingers were working your cunt until you were already wet.
When two of his fingers slid into you and began to stroke and scissor, Steve trapped your whimper between your mouths before reluctantly retreating from your lips.
“There you go, just take what I give you. Let it feel good.”
You shook your head, biting your bottom lip against a moan when Steve curled his fingers.
“You’re cute,” he smirked. “But I know you like it. As much as you wanna pretend like you don’t, you’re cunt’s creaming all over my hand, it’s fucking crying for me.”
He nipped at your kiss swollen bottom lip, humming as you clenched around him hard when he discovered that spongy sweet spot inside of you.
You couldn’t stifle your moan as Steve began to aim for that spot over and over, until you were writhing against his hand, your hips frantically rocking as you choked out a pathetic, “Please!”
“How can I say no when you’re being such a sweet little slut for me?” Steve murmured, his thumb rubbing your clit as his fingers drove deeper and faster.
Until your body was bowing and a wordless cry was falling from your lips as pleasure rushed through you like a tidal wave.
“Yeah, that’s it,” Steve panted, his voice excited as he nipped at the hinge of your jaw. “So pretty when you’re cumming for me, doc.”
He shifted closer as your trembling subsided, your breathing ragged and your stomach twisting with self-disgust as Steve pulled you flush against him. His hand retreated from your center so he could lift your leg, curving it over his hip and opening you up for him as his other hand guided his cock to your center.
“Steve, please don’t,” you were crying now, desperate for a reprieve from this endless desecration as your fingers dug into his chest as he dragged his length along your slit. “Please—“
“Shhh, don’t make me hurt you,” he warned, voice still soft but his eyes flashing with enough steel--and that familiar, wild ferocity--that you felt a wave of terror shake through you before sagging against him in submission.
“Good girl,” Steve whispered, hips tilting and cock nudging at your opening before he was slowly sliding into you.
It felt like he was impaling you with fire, your channel stretching to capacity and burning something fierce with every inch that sank inside of you.
Choking on a sob, you closed your eyes, feeling hot tears spill down your cheeks as your fingers dug into Steve’s chest and you whined at the feel of him finally bottoming out.
“Mmmm, you’re doing so good for me,” Steve murmured, smoothing a hand over the curve of your ass before tilting your face up to his and slotting his lips over yours for a languid kiss.
“Look at us, getting along,” Steve purred. His fingers gripped your ass harder to hold you in place as his hips retreated before driving into you again, quicker than before.
He swallowed your pained sounds as he did it again, and again, until he was fucking you with deep, steady strokes.
You couldn’t tell if it was starting to feel good or if you had just gone numb, but you felt in a daze as Steve picked up his pace.
And then you felt the bed shift behind you, and a kiss against your shoulder, the prick of a beard against your skin.
Before you could process what was happening, Andy’s chest was pressing against your back, his big hands pushing your shirt up and tugging it over your head until you were naked between both men.
“Not a bad way to wake up,” he said, his voice gruff from sleep as he chained kisses along the slope of your neck.
“You’re telling me,” Steve groaned, giving a harsh rut of his hips that had you keening in pleasure-pain.
You’d barely caught your breath from Steve’s increased pace when you felt Andy’s fingers teasing along your cunt, swirling around your clit and making you gasp.
When those same slick-soaked fingers were suddenly rubbing at your puckered hole, you wailed a quiet “no!” as you tried to jerk away.
It only drove you closer to Steve, and suddenly he was rolling onto his back and pulling you with him, settling you on top, his hands like steel manacles against your hips as he fucked up into you.
Your head was spinning from all the different sensations and emotions running rampant through your body and mind, and your struggles were weak and pathetic compared to the strength of Steve and Andy.
Especially now that they were working together, using you in tandem.
Andy’s hand slid against your back, pushing you down until your chest was flush to Steve’s. And then he was moving behind you, hands gripping your ass and spreading you open.
You cried harder, unable to move as Steve hugged you against his chest, the drive of his hips never relenting as he groaned and snarled beneath you, lost in his pleasure as he held you captive so Andy could prep you for his own.
Andy’s finger at your asshole was gentler than Steve’s had been last night, but it still hurt, especially with how rigid you were, and no amount of soft praise and gentle cooing could ease the tension from your body.
That didn’t stop Andy from working you open though, until your tight channel could take two of his fingers at once and you were tucking your face against the crook of Steve’s neck, hiding as you drowned in humiliation and shame.
At the prod of Andy’s cock at your back entrance, you went completely still. Completely quiet. Even your breathing stopped.
It was almost like you were shutting down completely, unable to accept what was happening.
And who was doing it to you.
Against your will.
Andy eased into you slowly, and despite how gentle he was, it hurt. It hurt so much, but you were too far gone to react. To cry anymore. To beg him to stop even though you knew he wouldn’t.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Andy grunted as his hips finally met your ass. “She’s so fucking tight.”
“Mmm,” Steve hummed, his thrusts stopping as he felt you constrict around him. “Her cunt feels tighter now too. Squeezing me so hard. I could stay in this perfect pussy all day.”
Andy fucked into you a few times, Steve joining in from beneath you as they settled into a rhythm that worked for them both. The room slowly filled with groans and hisses of pleasure, skin slapping loudly as the headboard knocked against the wall in a steady rhythm and the mattress squeaked at the strain of your romp.
You ignored it all, shuttering yourself away in your mind as you closed your eyes and pretended like your body wasn’t yours.
This wasn’t you.
You weren’t here.
You were far away. Back at the California beach cottage where you had vacationed last summer. Waking up every morning to the sound of the waves crashing below and watching the most incredible sunsets at the end of each day.
As your fingers curled against Steve’s chest in response to the way they were working you, you tried to ignore how your traitorous body was weeping with arousal, easing the push and pull of the two cocks effectively taking you apart.
You tried so hard to disassociate from all the feelings and sensations driving your body to the very brink of overwhelm and devastating ruin.
You blinked back the tears that sprung forward as you recognized the desperate, needy bloom that started warming deep down in your center, burning hotter and stronger with every unwanted rut and wicked touch.
In your mind, you returned to the path you had walked along the private beach each morning on your vacation last year. You were counting all the different colors on the ocean horizon when you felt a soft touch against your cheek and your eyes fluttered open to find Ransom kneeling beside you and Steve.
He was naked, his eyes dark and shining with a sinful desire as he tugged your face his way and pressed the head of his hard, weeping cock against your lips.
Some deeply buried part of you that was holding out hope for whatever could possibly come on the other side of this nightmare died as you gagged around Ransom’s cock.
His groans joined the carnal symphony filling the room as he fucked your mouth, then deeper, ramming into your throat, uncaring as you choked and convulsed--unable to breathe--as tears streamed down your face.
You felt fingers at your clit as your body--the biggest betrayer of all--was filled and fucked and ravaged by three different cocks.
And suddenly you were choking on Ransom’s salty, bitter cum a split second before your body was going taut with an orgasm that brought you more devastation and despair than pleasure.
“Oh fuck!” Steve snarled as you clenched around him, and then he was fucking up into you desperately, giving a wordless shout as he came, his hips jerking against you as he filled you with his seed.
Behind you Andy moaned at the flutter and pulsing of your body, his hips moving more frantically as he chased his own end. A few more hard thrusts and he was groaning his release, giving one final stroke that was so forceful it had you whimpering as you jerked against Steve, feeling a warm rush of cum fill your ass and burn you up from the inside out.
You weren’t sure how long you laid there among the tangle of panting, sated men--your captors and defilers--but after a while they all began to move away, heedless of the way you curled up in the center of the bed, silently crying as they took turns cleaning up and getting dressed.
You drifted in and out of consciousness, shoving Andy away with a pathetic whine when he tried to make you drink some water, and again when he brought you some fresh clothes to change into.
It was all too much, and everything hurt, your body riddled with the kind of pain and exhaustion that you had never felt before. You had nothing left to give--completely spent and despondent--so you just laid there, trembling and covered in sweat and cum and your own shameful juices, closing your eyes and hoping they would never open again.
But all too soon bright sunlight was peeking in around the edges of the drawn blinds as Steve began packing up the group’s meager belongings.
After another failed attempt by Andy to get you up and dressed, Steve growled his irritation, tossing the packed duffle bag aside before moving toward you with violence in his eyes.
“This is the last time we ask nicely, doc,” he gritted, hands on his hips as he stood over the edge of the bed, glaring down at you. “So get that cum filled ass up and at ‘em and get dressed so we can move out.”
You ignored him, silent as you stiffly rolled onto your other side to escape his presence as much as you could, wincing at the pain that flared through your body at the movement.
And then a different kind of pain, the blinding kind, was piercing through you as Steve grabbed you by the back of the neck and wrenched you out of bed.
Your scream was a quiet, quavering thing, your throat raw from crying and shrieking and moaning over the past god knows how many hours of torture and debasement.
Steve threw you at his feet, giving you a swift kick to the stomach that has you choking on air and curling in on yourself with an agonized wheeze.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Andy snarled, lunging for Steve and growling as Ransom held him back. “You’re gonna fucking kill her.”
Steve sneered at him, opening his mouth to respond but your broken voice beat him to it.
“Do it, please,” you trembled. You gingerly pushed yourself up to sit as you stared up at the three convicts, tears streaming down your face, eyes pleading and shadowed with exhaustion. “Please just get it over with, just kill me.”
“Kill you?” Steve’s laugh was malicious as he crouched down before you and balanced on the balls of his feet. He took your chin between his fingers. “Doc, you're ours now. We’ll need to lay low together for a while and we’ll need some entertainment for the long haul.”
“Got a sweet little cabin off the grid where we’re gonna be fucking all those pretty holes of yours every single day, kitten,” Ransom chimed in as Andy shrugged out of his hold. “Just another two days or so on the road and we’ll be home sweet home, where no one will ever find us.”
The thought of enduring further torture and violation at the hands of these men, let alone living with it for good, had you sobbing as you shook your head. “I c-can’t do this. P-please.”
Your next sob was cut off as Steve grabbed you by the throat and gave you a harsh shake. “You’re gonna do it. You’re gonna get your ass up and get dressed or I’m really gonna give you something to cry about.”
He let you go and you shook your head, a desperate chant of, “No, no, no,” falling from your lips between your frantic sobs and hiccups. When you tried to curl in on yourself, your defiance born from sheer panic versus stubbornness, Steve lost it.
He snarled like an animal as he grabbed you by the throat, rose with you in his grip, and threw you on the bed. “That’s it, I tried being nice and patient with you, you little bitch. I showed you how it could be if you just played nice, but I’ve fucking had it. Now I’m gonna show you what happens when you keep fucking disobeying me.”
It was the metal clink of Steve’s belt unbuckling that has you weakly rolling onto your stomach and trying to crawl away from him. The sound of the leather sliding from the belt loops of his jeans made you whimper.
You couldn’t take him again. You couldn’t take any of them again.
The thought had you hyperventilating and then all the noise in your head cut out at once as you felt the violent crack of Steve’s belt against your bare ass.
Your shriek of pain was a broken, pitiful thing as your body spasmed with agony.
“What are you doing?” Andy shouted, lunging for Steve again, but going perfectly still as the former captain swiped up the handgun from the bedside table, clicked the safety off, and pointed it at Andy's chest.
“Don’t fucking move,” Steve spat. “This is your fault for being so fucking soft with her. She needs to know who’s in charge and what happens when she keeps acting like a little cunt.”
He brought the belt down again, this time whipping across your back, and you sobbed as you felt the welt it left behind, searing into your skin.
“Fucking stop, she gets it,” Andy said, his voice shaking with suppressed fury as he curled his his trembling hands into fists at his sides.
Steve’s lips quirked into a mean smirk as he wound his arm back and brought the belt down across your back again, chuckling at the sound of your strangled cry of pain.
Andy dove forward but stopped as Steve turned on him and shoved the barrel of the gun against the center of his forehead. He stalked forward, pushing Andy against the wall, white teeth bared as he muttered, “Just give me a fucking reason. Think of what I’ll do to her when you’re not around to play protector.”
Andy’s jaw clenched, his furious eyes glittering with a quiet rage and the shadow of fear as he silently met Steve’s stare head on, but didn’t reply, didn’t move a muscle in challenge.
“Yeah, that’s what I fucking thought,” Steve hummed. He turned, handing the gun off to Ransom and nodding toward the other side of the bed. “You’re gonna hold her down and point that gun at her head, and if he moves,” he jerked his thumb over his shoulder at Andy. “You put a bullet in her fucking head.”
Ransom huffed, glare dancing between Steve and Andy before his grip on the gun tightened and he rounded the bed until he was standing over you.
“Surrounded by fucking drama no matter where I go and who I’m with,” he muttered, gathering your wrists in his free hand and holding them tight. He gave you a little shake. “You just couldn’t do what you’re told and make things easy, could you?”
“Please,” you whispered, your attempts to pull away from Ransom as feeble as they were useless.
And then another scream was being wrenched from your raw throat as Steve hit you with his belt again, and again, and again.
He didn’t stop until your cries went quiet, your voice giving out as you violently trembled against the mattress. Your breathing was quick and shallow, adding to your mindless, disorientated state, and your back and ass were a mess of welts and cuts, already forming bruises and blood.
Chest heaving with exertion, Steve’s wild eyes slowly trailed over you. His free hand dropped to the tent growing at the front of his jeans and he groaned as he gave himself a squeeze through the thick denim.
“She’s got me so fucking hard, breaking her in like this,” he rasped, dropping the belt at his feet before he was crawling over you, knees framing yours as he rubbed a hand up the arch of your spine.
Your muted sound of agony was an insult to the staggering amount of pain you felt as Steve rubbed the open cuts and weeping wounds marring your back. When you felt him stretch out over you, drop his weight against your quaking body, and nuzzle his nose against your sweaty cheek, you closed your eyes against a new onslaught of tears and pressed your face into the scratchy blankets.
A sob caught in your throat as Steve guided his hard length between your legs, and then he was shoving into you forcefully, his groan of pleasure a hot puff of air against the curve of your jaw.
He was brutal as he fucked you, powerful hips slamming into your tender ass and lighting you up with a new wave of agony every time he drove his cock as deep as it could go. Steve reveled in your quiet little chirps and whimpers of pain, moaning as he buried his nose against the nape of your neck and gave your soft skin a hard bite.
“You’re gonna fucking feel me for days, doc. Inside and out.” Another sharp snap of his hips and he lingered, his cock twitching inside of you as Steve panted his pleasure. “Remember this, because this is what happens when you tell us no.”
He retreated briefly before pounding back into you, punching an agonized moan from between your lips as he hit your cervix.
“And it’ll get worse every time.” Another push and pull and a dirty grind and Steve was cumming with a groan, dropping his sweaty forehead to your shoulder as he pumped you full of his release. His hips didn’t stop moving until you could feel his spend oozing out around his softening cock and dripping down to pool beneath you on the bed.
It was quiet for a long moment, a buzzing in your head as you tried to ignore Steve’s hot pants against your skin as he regained his breath.
In addition to the sound of Steve recovering from his pleasure--from so violently using you--you heard something else, something you couldn’t quite place. At first, you chalked it up to just another symptom of the pain overtaking your body and the distress overriding your mind.
But as it grew louder, closer, you felt Steve go rigid against you, and that’s when you realized that it wasn’t just in your head, because he could hear it too.
A second later, it clicked, what it was that you were hearing.
The distant sound of sirens, quickly growing closer.
And then the crunch of multiple sets of tires over gravel sounded from the parking lot just outside, and Steve shoved away from you. Quickly doing up the front of his pants, he snatched the gun from Ransom, his own eyes as wide as the other man’s.
“Is that…” Ransom trailed off, his throat bobbing on an anxious swallow as his gaze moved past Steve, toward the covered windows. “How--”
“You fucking bitch,” Steve barked, lunging for you and dragging you up from the bed and against his chest with a violent yank. “You called the cops!”
“I-I didn’t,” you whispered.
And then you were crying out as Steve backhanded you hard, sending you crumpling to the floor as you held your face and felt the sting of a split lip and the sharp copper tang of blood on your tongue.
You heard the quiet click of the safety on a gun, and then Andy was darting in front of you, crowding you back against the wall and shielding you with his own body as he stared up at Steve.
“She fucking ratted us out,” Steve sneered.
“When?” Andy asked, shaking his head. “How?”
“She probably snuck using the motel phone when we were sleeping.”
“The only time she was awake without you and Drysdale, I was up with her. She was sick in the bathroom and then I cleaned her up and brought her back to bed. I was holding her the entire night, she didn’t move.”
Suddenly a new voice rang out, echoing over what sounded like a loudspeaker from outside, and making you all go quiet and still.
“This is the U.S. Marshal, we have the motel surrounded. You have one minute to surrender peacefully, or we’re coming in to get you.”
Steve hissed a string of curses, his face flushed red with anger as he raked his free hand through his hair, and in his distraction, he didn’t notice Andy slowly rising to his feet and then pouncing.
You watched them grapple with each other--for the gun--with a muted kind of horror, pushing yourself into the corner of the room and painfully pulling your knees into your chest to make yourself smaller as Ransom gazed between his fighting fellow convicts with wide eyes.
You jumped when the gun went off with a loud pop, watching as Andy stumbled back with a grunt, pressing his hands to his stomach as blood flowed over his fingers, quickly staining his hands and clothes red as he sank to the floor with a quiet, “Fuck.”
As Steve slowly turned your way, Andy sank back against the foot of the bed across from you, his frantic blue gaze finding yours as Steve raised his arm and pointed the gun at your head.
“I’m so sorry,” Andy whispered, one lone tear streaking down his cheek as he watched you with a sorrowful gaze.
You didn’t reply, didn’t even notice your own fresh flow of tears as you blinked up at Steve before closing your eyes and letting them stay that way, your body tense and waiting and ready for the end.
The soft metallic click of the gun chamber cocking had you inhaling a final, shaky breath, wishing for it to be quick and painless and desperately hoping your final plea, at least, would be honored by some greater power.
And then the motel room door burst open, splintered wood flying everywhere as bright, heavenly sunlight spilled in along with the flood of a tactical unit armed to the teeth.
The big, broad man leading the charge wasn’t dressed like the others. His blue jeans were worn, his motorcycle boots scuffed, and the combination of his denim shirt, bullet proof vest, and U.S. Marshal coat made him look even bigger up close as he expertly raised his gun at Steve and shot twice before the other man went sailing backward with the impact of it.
The rest of the agents made quick work of subduing Ransom, who didn’t even put up a fight, and Andy, who was weakly raising his bloody hands in a show of surrender.
You watched him as he was rolled onto his stomach, despite his gunshot wound, and handcuffed.
His eyes flickered up to you, desperate but also glimmering with relief. He murmured your name quietly, pleadingly. “I’m so sorry, please forgive me. I never meant for this to happen. I just wanted to be with you.”
You blinked at him before turning away without a word, curling in on yourself and burying your face against your knees as you tried your best to ignore the flare of pain that rattled through you at the movement.
“You missed the fucking kill shot,” you heard Steve growl, the clink of metal sounding as he was handcuffed.
The same new voice from the loud speaker responded, but in person it was quieter and smooth as it rang with confidence and authority. “I wasn’t going for a kill shot. You’re not getting the easy way out. You’re going back to jail and you’re gonna rot there for the rest of your miserable life, like you deserve, you piece of shit.”
There was a wordless growl from Steve, and then that same quiet voice, this time tinged with disgust, spoke again.
“Get him out of my sight. All of them. Put them in separate vehicles, even the injured ones. They can get treated back at Steelridge.” There was a pause, and then the voice was softer than before. “But call a bus for her.”
Another loud flurry of movement, your hazy mind trying to slowly identify the sounds because it was all that it could handle at the moment.
Because the thought of this horrific, unspeakable ordeal really being over, of you being saved, was something you literally couldn’t comprehend.
Not after everything.
And the confusion of it, the distrust of it--the utter disbelief--had a thin, shaky whine rattling in your chest as you began to rock bath and forth, eyes burning as doing so made your eviscerated back and ass throb.
It went so quiet you thought that maybe you had passed out, and then you heard the quiet rustle of clothing, and felt a sudden soft, warmth envelope you, a pleasant musky scent--and the hint of cinnamon and sandalwood--filling your nose.
You jerked with a frightened whimper, hugging yourself tighter as you recoiled further against the wall, petrified.
“Shhh, you’re okay, sweetheart.”
For some reason the gentle reassurance in his voice only spurred on more tears, but it also had you hesitantly lifting your head, peeking up at this stranger--your savior--as you gave a quiet sniffle.
He was painfully handsome, his brown hair longer than most men wore it and curling around the collar of his shirt. From beneath a thick beard, his smile was soft and encouraging, and the kindness in his dark blue gaze made your vision blur with further evidence of your overwhelm.
Of your complete and utter relief.
He tugged his coat further up your body, until it was tucked up under your chin and covering your nakedness--your vulnerability--from his soft, unwandering gaze.
There was another beat of silence, and then he was saying your full name, with your doctor title prefacing it, but still framing it as a question to confirm your identity.
You nodded, fingers curling into the collar of his coat as you held onto it for dear life, like it could somehow protect you from whatever came next.
Because you had no idea what that would be.
You hadn’t expected a next.
“I’m Ari Levinson,” he introduced himself, dipping his head to draw level with your watery gaze. “You’re safe now. An ambulance is on its way and we’re gonna get you taken care of, okay? It’s over now.”
The sound that spilled from your lips in response to his words was inhuman - a hitched, shaky wail of hysteria as you pressed your trembling fingers to your lips, screwed your eyes shut, and broke down.
“Shh, you’re okay,” Ari murmured, and you heard the hesitancy in his voice as he asked, “Can I touch you?”
You were too distraught to reply, but when you felt the tentative weight of Ari’s big hand on your shoulder, the way his touch was so soft it was almost imperceptible as it rubbed up and down your arm, you whimpered, shifting closer to him and desperately seeking comfort.
Seeking a gentle, innocent touch--real consolation and solace--from someone who didn’t want to use you or hurt you.
“You’re safe now,” Ari reaffirmed on a quiet rumble as you pressed your face to his firm chest and sank into his strong hold.
You gasped sharply as his hand went to smooth between your shoulder blades, and he stilled, shifting until he could see your back. He quietly hissed at the sight of the contusions and blood criss-crossing your flesh.
You whined in humiliation, trying to push away from him, but Ari hushed you quietly, touching your arms and giving them a comforting squeeze.
“I’m so sorry they did this to you. I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner. I’m so sorry,” he whispered again against the top of your head as you sagged against him.
“How did you find us?” you asked softly, sniffling as you straightened into a sit. You were grateful as his hands remained on your arms, helping to hold you up as your drained body trembled from weakness.
“Your employee ID badge from Steelridge. They install trackers in all of them for security purposes.”
You blinked at Ari, your mind going quiet as you thought back to what felt like an eternity ago, when you were trapped in that prison hallway with Andy and a group of violent criminals slowly closing in on you.
You remembered the internal battle you had waged, agonizing over whether or not to use your badge to get both you and Andy to safety. Even in a moment like that, some distant part of you was terrified and resistant to breaking the rules.
But you had.
Just like he knew you would.
And that was the beginning of the end of your life as you knew it.
So in this moment, as Ari quietly murmured your name with concern lacing his words, you realized that it was because of you that they had gotten caught.
It was because of you, Andy’s bargaining chip and the prized little plaything they had all been so greedy for, that all three of those monsters were on their way back to the place they had wanted to escape most.
And, despite everything, maybe even because of it, you laughed.
It was a garbled, quaking thing, your laugh, but you couldn’t stop it, just like you couldn’t stop the way it slowly morphed into a body shaking sob, and then another. You covered your mouth with your hands, frantically trying to keep your noises at bay, but then Ari was pulling you against his chest and speaking quiet words of comfort against your ear, somehow making the frenzy in your mind and the lump of emotion in your throat slowly begin to recede.
You stopped crying by the time the paramedics arrived, and although Ari was reluctant to move away so they could treat you, he gave them space but lingered close the entire time.
A few minutes later, when they gave you a shot of morphine to help with the pain, you felt a different kind of numbness than you were used to--a pleasant and promising one--slowly trickle through you.
Once your initial treatment was finished, the paramedics helped you onto a stretcher, instructing you to lay on your side as they covered you with a blanket and carefully wheeled you outside.
You winced at the brightness of the sun, but relished in the warmth of it beating down on you after the last however many hours of darkness.
You got a glimpse of the three no longer escaped cons on your way to the waiting ambulance.
Ransom secured in the back of one U.S. Marshal SUV, pouting and then scowling as he caught sight of you.
Steve was next, his lips curling into a sneer as he watched you go by from his own temporary prison.
And finally Andy, slumped in the back of another SUV, his gaze unblinking and mournful as he watched you get further and further away from him.
You shuddered, feeling sleepy as the drugs began to take effect, your eyes growing heavy as you were loaded into the back of the ambulance.
You blinked your tired gaze open to find Ari hovering over you. His hand found yours and gave it a gentle squeeze as his lips split into a small, warm smile beneath his beard. “You take care of yourself, okay? I’ll be by to check on you later, once I wrap up everything at the prison.”
He went to step away, but you held his hand as tight as you could in your weakened state as you whispered, “No! Wait, please don’t leave me.”
Because something about Ari, despite the fact that he was a complete stranger, despite everything you had been through in the past day--including Andy’s brutal betrayal--made you feel safe.
And the thought of losing that feeling of safety right now had panic swelling within you.
Ari stilled at your distressed plea. His features went soft at the frightened look on your face as he glanced up at the paramedic a few feet away in question.
She shrugged. “Up to you, but we need to leave, so make a decision.”
Eyes finding their way back to your pleading gaze, Ari smiled at you reassuringly, reaching for the two-way radio clipped to his belt and raising it to his mouth to speak.
“Hey Jensen, I’m gonna do a ride along to the hospital. I want you to oversee the delivery of perpetrators back to Steelridge, and don’t leave until they’ve all been processed. And have my vehicle waiting for me at the hospital for later, okay?”
“You got it, boss,” a different voice responded lightly. “I’ll text you updates as I have them.”
With Ari’s decision made and orders given, the paramedic hustled to close the back doors of the ambulance before moving toward the front of the bus. She signaled to her partner that they were ready to go, and then the vehicle was lurching into motion, crunching over gravel as the overhead siren began to wail and you cleared the motel parking lot before settling into a smooth ride on the open road.
Sleep called to you more strongly now, your body finally numb in a blissful kind of way--at long last--and your mind just as pleasantly hazy.
Ari leaned over from his seat along the wall and lifted his free hand to join the other, gently cupping your hand in his warm, strong grip. “Go on, rest now, sweetheart.”
“You won’t leave me?” you murmured softly, your words slurred with the impending promise of sleep.
You got a final glimpse of Ari’s soft smile before your eyes were closing and staying that way, your mind still aware enough to feel the careful squeeze he gave your hand as he replied.
“I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”
And as Ari’s warm voice washed over you, you felt a familiar feeling, distant and buried so deep within you that it took you a moment to place what it was.
It was hope.
And it was just a small flicker, a fragile, tentative glimmer.
But it was there.
And it was yours.
Hoooooe’kay. Omg. Wow. This one, y’all. First, I really had no intention for it to be THIS dark and angsty. My initial idea was for more of a soft!dark but eventual consensual gang bang with a few bad but fine AF men. But then this happened, and our sweet Reader was traumatized way more than I anticipated. And, well, after all that, she deserved the hope and a hint of a happy ending with the kind of person who would treat her right. 🥺
So yes, we will have a follow up to this story so we can check in with Reader to see how her healing journey is going and if Ari is a part of it. (Spoiler: He so fucking is. 😘)
Also sooooo many thanks and much love to my hoemate @drabblewithfrannybarnes for giving me the brilliant idea for the ending with U.S. Marshal!Ari, even if she thinks she didn’t lol. And lots of love and gratitude to @river-soul and @navybrat817 for letting me pterodactyl screech in their DMs about this story lol. I love all of you so much, thank you! ❤️❤️❤️
Finally, please leave a hoe your thoughts, feedback, and feeeeels, okay?! It gives me more life than you know and motivates me to keep spinning stories so we can be ruined--and geek out--together. Thank you for reading this. ilu ❤️🙏🏻
I no longer do tag lists, but if you'd like to be notified when I post new writing, follow my side blog @sirisshamelesshoelibrary and turn on notifications to get pinged when I drop some new hoe fuel 😘
Please note that I do not give permission for my work to be translated, reposted, or published anywhere other than my Tumblr. Reblogs are most welcome though! ❤️
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Desperate Affairs, Pt. 12
Summary: How does Ransom feel. Meeting with the brothers and Mary only causes more secrets
Pairings: Andy Barber X Reader (separated)
Warnings: Explicit language, therapy, mentions of sex, mentions of dub con sex, mentions, Freezy, mentions of threatening murder, manipulation, mentions of sharing without the person’s knowledge, 18+ ONLY
Word Count: 5.3k
“So, what is it that you want to talk about,” Dr. Barnes asks after taking a quick sip of his coffee. He pulls his notepad onto his lap staring at the couch in front of him.
Dr. Barnes scraps his tongue over his teeth narrowing his eyes, “You asked for this appointment. Actually, demanded to have an appoint, and you have nothing you want to talk about?”
Ransom readjusts his posture, taking a deep, he puts his hand up to his temple. He’s unsure of what to say. He’s got so many mixed emotions, and he honestly just wants to scream.
“Is this about what happened at the Barber’s?” Dr. Barnes clearly sees the care that you and Ransom have for one another, even if he might not approve of that relationship right now.
“Yeah, and after,” he chokes out, trying to hold his tears in.
“Let’s start when you went there. What were you thinking?” Dr. Barnes calms his voice, seeing the inner turmoil that Ransom is dealing with.
“That he was going to hurt her. I know she felt the need to talk to him, she’s married to him, but it scared me. It was just them in that house, and I didn’t know what she was walking into. And then when that door opened a bit...they were talking about me, she defended me...” he tries to pretend that retelling the events that happened just a few short days ago isn’t affecting him, but a tear breaks through. “Even with me and Everett there, he was trying to hurt her. He doesn’t care, he just wants to keep her, like she’s a possession.”
“Do you treat her that way?” Dr. Barnes writes a few notes, before looking up at Ransom.
“No, I was there for her when she needed me. A-and... you think I treat her like a possession?” looking at the floor Ransom contemplates that notion. Thinking of all the ways that he’s treated you.
“Doesn’t matter what I think.”
“I’d like for you to tell me.”
“How did your relationship with Y/N end? You didn’t even know she was pregnant until much later. How did you two get away from each other?”
Now this is what Ransom had been trying to avoid. Wanting to put the worst thing he’s ever done in the past. Even sometimes when he looks at you, he sees your scared face when Robert walks in. Felt how you shuffled your body back into his, even if you were angry, you were willing to let him protect you, and he failed miserably.
“Ransom?” Dr. Barnes asks, but Ransom is so far gone in that memory, he can hardly think straight. “It usually helps to talk about it.”
“I hurt her just like he did. I couldn’t stand the thought of her leaving me. Didn’t want to admit how much I cared about her, and just the thought of her ending our affair, like it was nothing, to be with him. I made her promise me one last time, and I would leave her alone.”
“Would you have left her alone?” Ransom bites his lip before looking straight at Dr. Barnes shaking his head no. “How were you able to?”
“I was ashamed of what I did.”
“And what was that?”
“Have you heard of cockwarming?” Dr. Barnes nods his head. “I asked her to do that while I took a call to Andy. Made her make noises so he could hear her. He did, and called her. I knew that if she got off of me, she was choosing him, and I had built up in my mind that the reason she kept coming back was because in a twisted way she was choosing me...” he has to pause, because vocalizing everything he’s allowed fester in him, is almost too much to bear. “And that wasn’t even the worst of it. She did answer her phone, and I – I...”
“What did you do?”
“I wanted her to hurt the way I did. It’s sick, but I wanted her to remember our last time, so I brought my brother in, Andy was the DA when he was found guilty and sent off, so he always had a vendetta against Andy. He threatened to out our relationship to Andy, and end their lives, if she didn’t...”
Dr. Barnes’ tongue rolls around in his mouth, keeping his eyes closed because at the moment he can’t look at Ransom. Can’t fathom how someone he claims to care about could do that. And then it’s also blatantly obvious that you both care for the other, but unable to move forward, and it’s no wonder. Yours and Ransom’s relationship was doomed from the start. “If she didn’t do what?”
“Let him watch while I had sex with her, and then he would get his turn,” bringing his head to his hands, his fingers fiercely wipe away a waterfall of never-ending tears.
Dr. Barnes contemplates the best way to react. Seeing the usual pompous Ransom break down in front of him, leads him to believe he does feel remorse. “Have you two ever talked about this?” he shakes his head no.
“I feel like, she’s afraid to fully let herself go with me because of that.”
“That’s a pretty traumatic experience. Do you understand how that must have made her feel?” Ransom gives him a nod. “Are you so caring with her now because of that incident?” he shakes his head no. “Then why?”
“I love her.”
“And you want to be with her?” another nod. “I mean, for the long haul?” again another nod. “If she’s willing, I’d like to do something very unlike me, and that’s a couple’s session. I know...she called me and said at this point she doesn’t want to work out anything with Andy, but she has a slot available this week, where they were supposed to be. I still stand behind what I said, both of you need to step back from a relationship with the other, and no sex, no kissing, nothing intimate. Sounds like you both have a lot of self-healing. And you two have a past, you care for one another, it’s easy to go back to those habits, but you need that time.”
“What if...I think she’s...”
“What?” Dr. Barnes asks, looking up at Ransom over his glasses.
“The other morning, she didn’t know I had stayed the night. I couldn’t leave her. She just walked right to her bedroom. I woke up to Iris crying, but she wasn’t waking up, so I thought – thought something was wrong so I ran into the bedroom, and she wasn’t there. I started to panic, and then when Aster woke up crying...she came out of Jake’s bedroom,” at this Ransom slumps down on the couch.
“Did you ask her about it?”
“She gave me some lame excuse of how she doesn’t like sleeping alone, and she went in his room. I just – I don’t believe that nothing happened like she said,” Dr. Barnes cocks his head to the side, raising an eyebrow at him. “I mean, when we’re in the bed together, we always have sex.”
“Would she have any reason to lie to you?”
“No, but...do you think she needs to be just snuggling with Jake Jensen? That man clearly has a hard on for her, and you said she didn’t need a relationship.”
Dr. Barnes actually chuckles. “You sound jealous.”
“I don’t get jealous.”
“She doesn’t need a relationship. I shouldn’t even be talking about her to you, but that’s something I said out of this office, so I feel it’s fair game. Maybe, she gravitates towards Jake because he’s funny, and she hasn’t seen his penis. He isn’t someone who’s hurt her.”
Scowling up his face he shakes his head no, “You think he’s a better option than me?”
“I didn’t say that. You did. I’m just pointing out attributes that she may like,” Dr. Barnes actually found him to be quite annoying, but he’s not the one living with him. “You want to talk about her coming into her couple’s session with you?”
“We’re not a couple.”
“No, but you’re co-parenting. Your friends. You might not be a couple, but you two have developed a relationship. Both of you need that.”
Ransom nods his head, pretending he’s finished and disinterested. “You think if she knew I was on the couch that she would have come and slept with me?”
“Do you?” squinting his eyes to look at Dr. Barnes, Ransom purses his lips and mulls over the question. “Just sleep.”
“I do. I saw her when she left Andy’s, I’ve never seen that broken. He’s made her believe the last however many years they’ve been together has been a lie. He took her car away from her because it’s in his name. Surprised he didn’t take her phone too. I just, I don’t like Andy, never did, but she’s, his wife. I guess I didn’t realize how cruel he could be.”
He can’t focus. Can’t fucking focus on anything. Andy paces his office, planning a way he can fix this. He had never seen you more hurt or angered, and yet, that’s not what pissed him off the most. What pissed him off the most was you clinging to him. Clearly comfortable, and regardless of what you say, he knows you’re sleeping with him again.
Andy’s thoughts run rampant of when this whole thing turned to shit. He knows he shouldn’t have been so pushy. He had you, but then he came back in the picture, and you were pulling away. Again. He's taken out of his thoughts, by the shrill sound of his phone. “Andy Barber.”
“Andy, glad I got you. It’s Mike Weiss.”
He’s really not in the mood to deal with anything concerning Ransom today. “What’s he need now? Hasn’t he done enough?”
“I’m not calling on behalf of Ransom, if that’s who you’re referring to.”
“So, who are you calling about? I’ve got a headache, and I’m ready to head to the house.”
“New client, I’m sure you’ve heard of her, since you’re married to her.”
The fury that’s been building up inside of Andy, is present again. He snarls, and is happy that no one is here to see how tight his fist is. “How is she able to afford you?”
“You know I can’t answer that.”
“She filing?” Andy should have seen this coming, but he never thought you would ever take it this far, believing you’re only having a temper tantrum.
“I haven’t filed anything. Actually, she wanted to discuss a supervised visitation for Iris, but she’s requesting you attend anger management, and that the visitation isn’t at your home. It can either be at a center, or a public space.”
“Are you serious? She...that’s my child,” Andy seethes at this. Trying to remain calm, and prove he doesn’t need anger management, or a public space to see you and his daughter.
“You’re proving her point. Calm your breathing,” Mike laughs.
“Fine. If she agrees to meet my family. With Iris. All of them. Frank, Ari, and Mary.”
“I’ll relay this to her.”
“Is she going to file?” Andy forces out through his teeth.
“If she does, you’ll know. I told you I haven’t filed anything yet. Be on your best behavior though.”
Growling Andy slams the phone down. Flexing his fists, because he knows exactly how you’re able to afford Mike Weiss, Ransom fucking Drysdale.
You look into the mirror and take a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves. You were told he did great at his first anger management session, as he should, Andy Barber is one of the best liars. You’ve even started making a list of all the lies that Andy has told you, and you feel like an idiot for never even realizing it. Not even realizing that the man you were having sex with wasn’t even your husband, and now you’re going to meet him, Ari, and Mary.
“You ready?” Jake asks you holding a giggling Iris. You look at him, knowing you’re not really ready, but there is the tiniest part of you that clings to the fact that Andy was a good dad. “Hey, I’m not going anywhere, just standing back. Sam requested that Officer Mace was there as well.”
“I just don’t know if I’m ready.”
He walks closer to you, softly putting his hand on your cheek, “If it gets overwhelming, I want you to tuck your thumb on your palm, and make a fist around it. I’ll come up with something, and we’ll leave, and go pick up Aster. Or he can come over here, I know he will. We’ll order loads of pizza and get candy, and watch Disney movies, and sing at the top of our lungs.”
“I like that,” you smile at him, finally peppering Iris's face with kisses. “Alright sweet girl, let’s go see daddy, okay?” she lets out a squeal and begins jabbering.
“She said that if you’re going to make her, she’ll go.”
Jake spends the car ride singing 80s rock songs awfully, even getting Iris to do her own form of blabbering singing. “See, even she likes it. I think Iris has better taste than you,” his voice gets quieter as he turns down the music, but Iris still screams out her version of the song.
“You’re turning her into you,” you giggle.
“Don’t act like that’s such a bad thing. Listen at her. She sounds amazing. She’s feeling the soul of the music,” Iris grunts and then ends her singing with a giggle. “And what a powerful ending she had. Thatta girl.”
The happier car ride ends way too soon when you see the small rented out restaurant come into view. Jake’s hand slaps on your thigh, squeezing it, and you giggle again. “I’m okay.”
“Don’t forget our signal,” he reminds you when he pulls in. An officer walks over to Jake’s car when you get out to grab Iris, Jake grabbing her bag.
“He’s already in there. The other’s will be coming later, if Ari even shows. Him and Andy got in an argument earlier,” you looked at him confused when he lets that slip. “Ari’s a good friend of mine.”
“Oh...um, well – I...” you don’t want anyone connected to the family being the one that’s supposed to be keeping the peace, even Jake’s posture stiffens.
“Just call me Mace. Don’t worry, I’m not a fan of his. Bodecker and a few of us have gotten a funny feeling about him and Frank for some time. Ari never even wants to talk about him, so I wouldn’t know about him on a personal note. You ready?” you nod your head and follow him in the dining area, already spotting Andy, and you take slow breaths with every step.
“Hey honey,” he says speaking to you, but his bright blue eyes look at Iris, who lays her head on your chest. He puts his hands out, reaching for her, and she only offers a smile. “Come one, sweetie, come see daddy,” finally her hands reach towards her dad, and he scoops her up giving her a big hug. She lays her head on his shoulder, while he pets along her hair. “Thank you,” he says looking at you, and the only thing you can do is offer him a smile. “Come on, sit down. I went ahead and ordered some water for you, didn’t know if you were hungry. Sorry, Jake, didn’t realize you were coming.”
“Figured she needed a bit support,” Andy takes a deep breath. He doesn’t want to shorten this moment by upsetting you, so he calms himself, still clinging to Iris. No one says anything, and you can’t help but look down at the table, it’s hard to look at him.
“You been good?” you nod your head. “You could look at me,” you finally look up at him. “There she is. Things don’t have to be so awkward.”
“I don’t know what to say to you,” his head turns to the side, and the opening of the door, makes you stiffen in your seat. A chill runs up your spine, gaze back down at the table. Jake scoots even closer to you at the table, his chair giving out an audible squeak, and Andy clenches his jaw at how close he sits to you.
“Well, come on. They’re waiting.”
“I’m coming. You didn’t give me enough time to get ready. And I don’t like this dress. I don’t like the color, I don’t like the way it feels, it doesn’t match my shoes, and I look like a Disney character.”
“You’re meeting your aunt and cousin; you need to look nice.”
“What about Fred? Why couldn’t he meet them? And how come I haven’t come up here before?” a small blonde girl stands in front of you, she first looks at Iris, and then at you. Your eyes feel with tears the moment you see her, “Hey. I’m Mary, that’s Frank. We’re related. I guess. You’re my aunt. That’s my cousin, and Andy and Frank are my uncles,” taking a deep breath she continues talking. “You’re supposed to introduce yourself.”
“Mary, she only just met you, be nice,” finally you look at Frank, and he gives you a wink and a crooked smirk, and you want your body to collapse in on itself. Not realizing how hard this was going to be. “Sorry, she’s an excitable kid. Hey, sweetheart,” you recoil at that nickname. Another thing that took you way to long to catch on to.
Looking between Andy and Frank, you should have known. They most definitely look like one another, but there’s the smallest differences. You remember the times you made a comment about his beard, “I had the wrong guard on.” Or when you mentioned he was styling his hair different. “Don’t you like it? Wanted to try something different.”
And when he leans in for a hug, even the slight differences in his eye color, his smell, the way he carries himself. Were you that blinded by Andy, well and Frank, that you never noticed those differences. “Mary, this is Y/N, and that over there is Iris.”
“How come I never got to come up here with you? Why am I just now meeting them? You used to bring me with you?” even this child knew about Frank and Andy. “Can I see her?” Andy smiles, motioning her over there. “Who’s he?” she asks, sitting in the chair beside Andy, and pointing at Jake.
“That’s your aunt’s friend, Jake,” Andy tells her. He shuffles Iris around so Mary can see, and she gives her a big front toothless grin.
“She’s cute. Kinda looks like you, Andy. Kinda doesn’t. I guess that means she also looks like you too, huh, Frank?” she is quite the talkative kid, and she’s interested in Iris, but more so interested in you. “Frank?” he gives her a nod. “What were you doing up here when Andy was down there?”
He clears his throat, “We should change the subject,” he says sitting one seat away from you.
“I’m sorry, I – I'll be right back,” Jake goes to stand with you, but you hold out a hand, running to the bathroom. It’s too much right now, and you struggle to breathe. Taking deep breaths, and attempting to slow your breathing while looking in the sink, the door slings open.
“Are you okay? You seem upset,” Mary asks you. Every time you look at her, it’s hard to turn away from her face. Her eyes bore holes into you, turning her head to the side as she tries to figure you out. She’s young, no wonder she has questions. You’re an adult and even have questions, “Your baby is cute.”
“Did Frank stay with you when he came up here?”
The tears come back, “I, um, I don’t know...” you start.
“How do you not know? He either was here or not? How come you never came down to see me? We have a beach.”
“Hey, Mary, why don’t you go back out there with Andy, I need a moment with your aunt,” Frank says peaking his head in the door, and when you go to walk out with her, he holds you back. Seeing that the door is still open, you look towards Jake, and start to make the sign he taught you. “Don’t do that,” he tells you, pushing your hand down. “I’m not going to hurt you. Just wanted to talk to you away from Andy.”
“I’ve never got to talk to you as Frank,” you look over towards Jake, and he stares harshly at Frank’s back. “Don’t look at him. I’m sorry.”
“No, you’re not.”
“It was wrong, but it was the only way...”
“Stop. I don’t need anymore lies.”
“I did care about you.”
“No, you didn’t. You wouldn’t have lied about who you were. Pretending to be my husband just so you could...”
“You think what we did was just fucking? You think that’s all I wanted? I enjoyed times with you, watching movies, making dinner,” unable to even fathom what to say you look down at the floor, but he lifts your chin up. “Remember when I convinced you to get a babysitter and I took you on a date to that bar? We got so drunk we had to call a cab? And when we got home...that wasn’t fucking.”
“I didn’t even know that was you. You’re being unfair to me. I didn’t know you existed, and you want me to recall a date that I had sex with you, and it was supposed to be Andy.”
Frank looks at you, his hand still resting on your chin, he slowly moves it from left to right. “You told me that was the best you’d ever had,” he chuckles before continuing, “You can’t say you don’t look at me, and see the differences between us. Maybe, just maybe, there’s a small part of you that knew. I didn’t even want Andy to be your husband. I don’t live in Boston though.”
“You started our conversation with a lie. You could have told me your name was Frank.”
“Didn’t want to lead you on.”
“No, you would rather lie to me from the beginning. I actually...I mean, I did, I liked you. Noticed you when you first walked in. The second day you came in, you waited on me to serve you. I remember each random conversation we would have, you talking about the weather, trying anything to talk to me. And then you lie about your name. You told me you were Andy, you kissed me, and I had never been kissed like that, but it was a lie. I got married to a lie. I had a child to a lie.”
“I wasn’t the one who gave you sugar pills.”
“No, you just kept me occupied,” you push his arm off your chin.
“That’s what he told you? Dammit, that’s not what it was to me. He didn’t trust you.”
“Then he should have told me about you and Mary. I could’ve gone down there with him. Why? Why does he keep you a secret?” Frank’s face saddens. “Answer me, or this conversation is done.”
“I’m smart. Explain it to me,” he shakes his head. “You have a bit of green in your eyes, Andy doesn’t. I should have paid attention to that before now. Might have realized you weren’t him,” he huffs out a laugh, giving you a pained grin. “She has his eyes,” Frank looks away from you shaking his head, and you want to be angry. “Am I right on the money?”
“That’s what I thought,” his body relaxes, and he allows you to walk past him. Standing next to Jake you’re able to choke out, “I’m ready to leave.”
“No, you haven’t ordered,” Andy scowls back at Frank. “I get two hours. Ari isn’t here. Please, just...I want to spend time with my daughter. What did he say to you?”
“Nothing,” Andy doesn’t believe you. He’s just unsure exactly what Frank told you. The many times Frank begged for him to just tell you about him and Mary. Ari and him very rarely get along, so it made more sense, but not Frank. Frank was Andy’s twin, but he knew bringing Frank and Mary into your lives would make you ask more questions that he wasn’t willing to answer, putting it out of sight and out of mind.
“Please,” he begs one more time, and for some reason you oblige him that, sitting even closer to Jake, and then Mary comes and sits beside you. Her blonde hair smelling of strawberries would be sweet normally, but now it makes you sick.
“Well, look who finally decided to show up,” Frank says walking back to the table. You don’t have to worry about him sitting next to you since you’re surrounded by Jake and Mary.
You hear his heavy footfalls before you see him, refusing to turn around, because you’re just in shock. “That Iris?” hearing his voice you turn around, shocked to see the man from the store. Holding three bags of toys you helped him pick out. “I brought something for her, Mary, and Aster, too.”
Mary runs over to Ari, “Ari! It’s been so long since I’ve seen you,” you turn to look at Andy, shaking your head. She knew him too. You were the only one who didn’t.
“Here ya go,” he speaks softly to you, handing you a gift. “I met a nice woman in the toy aisle, she helped me. You’ll give this to Aster, right?” leaning into you he gives you a quick whisper, “I need to talk to you away from them, when we’re done here,” speaking loudly he looks over at Mace and gives him a quick wave.
“Ari, I love this!” Mary exclaims opening up her new toy. “Can I help open Iris’s, I don’t think can do it,” you give a smile and nod yes. Watching the girl open Iris’s gift, pushing buttons on the toy for her. Smiling when she gives a giggle.
You give a sarcastic laugh, “We could have had this all the time,” your eyes look up at your husband. There was no reason for him to keep all these people from you. No reason to keep his “niece” a secret. “Mary would have been a good big sister,” the silence between the brothers tells you you’re on to something. “I mean, like a big sister.”
“Yeah, well Frank said it got too cold up here. Where’s the other one? I thought there was two babies.”
“There is but...” you begin.
“She’s sick, we didn’t want her to be around you,” Andy stops your speaking. Again, with the lies. He never stops.
“Will I ever get to meet her? Does she look like Iris? Who does she look like? Iris looks like you, but she’s kinda got Frank’s eyes. See that bit of green?” she points at Iris’s eyes, punctuating her words.
Listening to her rambles, you’ve had enough. “We’ve got to go. I’ve got to check on Aster,” you reach for Iris, but he doesn’t want to give her to you. “Andy, give me my daughter.”
“I get two hours. Sit down.”
“Don’t talk to her that way,” Jake shouts.
“Everyone just calm down,” Frank adds putting his hands up.
“Andy, give her the baby,” Ari walks closer to Andy.
“I get two hours. Don’t let something a little girl said upset you. Do you not know how genetics work?”
“Give her the baby, now,” Ari stands beside Andy, gripping tightly to his shoulder.
“Mrs. Barber?” Mace asks, “Is everything okay?”
“No, I need to leave. Hand me my daughter, Andy.”
“What’s happening?” Mary’s eyes go between everyone in the room, ending on Frank.
“Andy, just give her the baby. We’re here for a week. Sweetheart, can you try again since he didn’t get his full two hours?”
“Andy!” Ari squeezes a bit tighter, and Andy finally hands Iris up to you.
“Don’t do this, honey. I know this has got to be overwhelming, but we agreed to this,” he stands up only for Ari to push him back down.
“I just can’t right now. I’ll text to schedule another visit this week.”
“Why are you taking the baby? Are you not going home with Andy?” you shake your head no, pulling up Jake to go with you. He follows along, his hand resting on the small of your back. Andy glares at you three leaving, but remains in his spot.
“Andy, you can’t do that. You need to realize what this feels like for her. And now you’re holding her daughter hostage. You of all people should know, you don’t do that. You don’t push them too far. She’s clearly distraught. It’s overwhelming for her. She won’t even look at you. What all did you do to her?”
“Why don’t you ask Ransom what he did to her. He’s still in her life.”
“My God, are you still hung up on him? Give it a fucking rest. Your hatred for him is what caused this. I’ve got to go. You two idiots...I don’t even know. If it wasn’t for that baby and Mary, I wouldn’t have come. Quit the games and be honest. They all deserve that,” Ari leaves, to get to you really quick. Ignoring the questions being fired at him by Mary.
Thankfully, you’ve only just finished strapping Iris in. Her pitiful little cries heard outside the door. You hate having to take her from Andy to a point, seeing the way she clung to him, but you also don’t want her anywhere near him. “Hey, please. I need...can we meet somewhere and talk?”
“We did. In the toy aisle. You knew who I was, didn’t you?” before he speaks, you’re just done. Opening up your door, only for his large hand to grip it.
“I know, that was kinda creepy. I just had never met you, or the girls. And I knew that...well Aster, I knew she wouldn’t be here. They both got to meet her, and... look, if you want to hate me, I get it. If you don’t ever want to speak to me, I understand, but I want to help you,” he looks over at Jake, actually acknowledges him without trying to look more superior before letting go of your door. “Here’s my number. I want to give you the honesty that they’re not. But if you don’t want to hear it, it’s fine. Mace can be there, the IT guy, Ransom, whoever you want. I promise, just talking. I’ve not pretended to be Andy.”
You grab the card out of his hand. “No pressure. Thank you for being so nice the other day, too. Take care,” without another word he just walks to his truck, before departing.
“That was weird. You gonna call him?”
“I think so. I owe it to myself.”
“Don’t you have that couple’s thing with Ransom tomorrow?” Jake asks, squinting his eyes before the two of you get in the car.
“I thought about asking a friend over to play video games. I won’t if you’re going to be at the apartment,” you look over at him, realizing all the kindness he’s giving you, and he still thinks he needs to change his life, only to accommodate you.
“Is that a normal occurrence?”
You look at him, even though he’s driving. Like a good driver he keeps his eyes on the road, “Jake Jensen. You have been nothing but kind to me. Tell your friend to come over and play video games with you. Whenever you want him over, I don’t care. I’ll make you guys some snacks.”
“Don’t do that. He’ll never leave. I can only take small doses of that cocky asshole.”
@thedarkplume @jamalflanagan @geminixevans @donutloverxo @kthynes @myywritingspot @alexakeyloveloki @unabashedfoxcheesecake @sweater-daddiesdumbdork @nadyaya7 @thesterlingstudy @arithegemini @sunsetfreedom05 @meandcevans @cheeseburgersstuff @helenasmirkedno @bemysugarbean @shookyscrumbs @dyinglikenarcissus @sumtimesitbelikedat @rosalynshields @sstan-hoe @lou-lou26 @la-cey @mansaaay @flowerjewels @fluffy-bb-107 @duuhrayliegh @chris-butt @flawlessglamazon @densi4evr @mercurial-make-em-ups @grymrayven @jsfics @chcblndnrd75 @evanspascalslutt @noturningbacknow @bostonsshield @ccmarvelxx @yourroyalthickness @headrushxreeta @crispysublimecupcake @punishmepunisher @autumnrose40 @patzammit @liecastillo @charmed-asylum
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Take It All Off
Summary: Chris does not want you wearing another team’s jersey in his house. In fact, he doesn’t want you wearing anything in his house.
Pairing Chris Evans x Reader
Word count: 2K
Warnings: Smut, 18+, Minors DNI, Chris (he’s a warning. No plot lives here on Sinday
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A/N: Little drabble for a nonnie. Hope you like it
Do not copy, rewrite, translate or post my work anywhere. No permission given to copy, translate, rewrite or post my work.
Music booms through the lower level of the house, the waning scent of pizza and mozzarella sticks from the earlier hour-long break wafting through the living room. Boxes stacked neatly in the hall, you’re standing in front of a small tower, searching for one in particular. Turning the stack around with your foot, the black writing on the side comes into view.
You scan down until you find the one with your t-shirts and sweats; you wiggle the box out and head upstairs. “Chris, I’m going to get changed, I’ll be right back.”
“Darlin’ we don’t wear clothes in this house,” he yells from the couch, sorting through your books.
You scoff, jogging up the stairs, dodging more boxes on the landing. That man is incorrigible, he’s already tried to tell you he has a “must wake Chris up with sex” rule and a “must sit on Chris’s lap during the game” rule. He already talked you into taking your pants off when the movers left.
In fact, if he could keep his hands to himself for more than five minutes, half your stuff would have already been unpacked. And your shirt would not be covered in marinara sauce.
Who finds eating mozzarella sticks sexy?
Christopher Evans, that’s who.
He kept trying to kiss you while you ate, causing you to spill the sauce down your shirt. Which led to him licking it off your exposed chest while you playfully fought him off. You smile softly thinking about how he offered to let you lick some off of his chest.
Three hours into your first day officially living with him and you love him even more.
You push the bedroom door open with the corner of the box, setting it on the end of the bed. Ruffling through it, you find one of your favorite old worn t-shirts, setting it on the top of the pile, you pull your stained shirt over your head.
“Damn,” Chris groans from the doorway, “take it all off, baby”. He openly ogles you, biting his lip. He can feel himself getting hard seeing your soft half-naked body in his room.
You roll your eyes, tossing the shirt in the wicker hamper by the door, you grab your t-shirt shaking out the wrinkles before pulling it over your head, “down Chris,” you joke.
Chris pouts, pushing his plump bottom lip out, his bright blue eyes despondently watching your chest disappear under the fabric, “aw c’mon, baby we got an hour before the game, we can finish getting your--,” he cuts himself off when he spots the offensive logo on your perfect body.
You look over at him, brows furrowed at the sight of his narrowed eyes. Chris places his hands on his hips, his black shorts clinging to his ass, his muscles popping out of the dark shirt with the patriots' logo painted on. He walks to you slowly, his nostrils flaring, a faint flush on his cheeks.
He pokes you in the middle of your chest with his long index finger, “what the fuck is this?”, he asks, his voice deepening.
You glance down, confused by his sudden mood change until you see the logo under his finger.
Your eyes flicker up to his face, you can feel the resentment and indignation rolling off him in waves.
And you like it.
Since you started dating, you learned what buttons to push to get Chris to do what you want, but there’s nothing like discovering a brand new one.
You flutter your lashes innocently, keeping your eyes on him, and shrug, “they’re my favorite team,” you bite your lip, pushing his finger away to touch the logo reverently, “I thought you knew that”
Chris glares at you, holding your chin between his warm rough fingers, “since when?”
“Since that time they kicked your team’s ass,” you smirk. You don’t know if or when they played against the Patriots, but when the flush on his cheeks deepens, you know you made a good guess.
“Take it off,” he spits out, leaning so close you could count his long eyelashes, his plump lips almost touching yours.
You grab the waistband of his shorts and retort, “Make me Christopher,” mocking his tone.
God, his eyes burn with passionate fury. That look blazing through you, making you wet and throb so much it almost hurts when you see the veins in his neck pop up.
He pushes you back into the wall, his hand curving around the back of your head, softening the blow. Chris places his other hand beside your arm, leaning his large body down until you’re trapped between the wall and him. He’s so hard, you can feel his erection pressing into you.
“You’re my girl,” he fumes, “and my girl wears my jersey, now take it off,”
You giggle loving that he’s so close to losing control, you place your arms around his neck, “you’re my man and my man wears my jersey so you take that cheater-Chris,” you yelp when you’re spun around, your hands bracing yourself when he pushes your head down, your back arching up.
His large hand landing on your ass, “I said take it off,” he repeats, punctuating his words with soft smacks. These are a warning, he could go much harder, the memory of your last spanking makes you even wetter, your panties soaked.
You look over your shoulder and mouth make me.
Chris chuckles darkly, “alright then, you wanna do this the hard way then,” he grouses under his breath
You pointedly look at his bulge, “I like it hard, Chris,” you tease, pushing your ass back, grinding over him until he grunts, “but I’m not taking it off”
Chris pulls your head back until your noses meet and scoffs his warm breath on your skin. You can barely see the thin rim of blue in hislust blown pupils. He releases you, tearing off your panties, the loud rip echoing in the room, the elastic pinching your skin until it breaks away.
Chris runs his hands up your thighs, sliding around your soft skin until his fingers find your curl covered mound, delving between your slick folds with practiced ease,
“Take it off,” he repeats, tapping your aching clit.
You freeze, turning to beam at the wall. This is a battle of the wills and you don’t like to lose. You reach behind you grabbing his large cock through his shorts and squeeze, “I said no, Christopher”
His breathing becomes heavier, labored when you massage him through the thin fabric. “Fuck,”
Chris can’t see your face, your head dropped on your outstretched arm, the arm behind you jerking him off, but he sees your cheek move and he knows you’re smiling. He’s going to make you take that shirt off. He could easily get it off you, but he wants the pleasure of seeing you remove it.
Chris pushes your hand away, turning you around. He stares you down, admiring the bratty resistance in your pretty eyes. He places his fingers between your legs, cocking his eyebrow, “you’ll give in, why fight me, Darlin,” he coos mockingly.
The pad of his finger tracing firm intricate designs over your clit, your slick seeping down your thighs. You bite your lower lip, holding back your moans, huffs of air forced through your nose. Damn him and his talented fingers, you resist the urge to rock your hips, instead scraping your nails down his tattooed chest, making him sneer.
He dips his head down, swiping his lips on yours, “you’re going to be screaming my name when I’m done with you, “he promises, “gonna cream over my cock, begging me for more,” he continues rubbing your bud faster.
Oh, he feels good, his finger touching right there, but you have your pride, so you kiss him back, murmuring, “you wish you could make me beg”
He laughs, the sound making your stomach drop, giving you the feeling of missing a step. He nudges your legs apart, dropping his shorts, his cock falling out. You look down at the thick swollen cock bobbing on you, your mouth watering at the sight of the red tip, wanting to feel his heavy weight on your tongue.
“I know you want it, baby,” he taunts, gripping his shaft, slapping your stomach with the head, smearing beads of precum on your skin.
You drag your eyes away, poking him in his firm pec “you don’t know shit, Evans.”
Whatever else you were going to say is forgotten when he lifts you up, the wall sliding on your back, forcing that t-shirt up to your breast, your legs instinctively going around his narrow waist. You feel the wide head pushing into your entrance, your hands grab his shoulders.
Waiting for burn, the stretch.
Nothing. You gape at him, confused. He’s never denied you, not when he’s this close to being inside you.
But he doesn’t move.
He stays like that, the tip resting in you, his hands on your waist holding you in place. He won’t move.You need him to move so badly, your core clenching down, demanding him to fill you up.
“Take it off,” he smugly says, seeing the desperation on your face.
Son of a bitch.
You take his bottom lip between your teeth and drop your weight, impaling yourself on his cock until he bottoms out. His knees buckle for a second, adding to the rush of sensations coursing through you. He straightens with a curse, his grip tightening on your hips. Your head drops back, breath faltering as he stretches you the way you love, so deep, you can feel every hard veiny inch of him.
Chris pulls out with a muttered groan, then eases back in, over and over his hips drifting in and out so damn slow. The pace making you want to scream, you can’t take this. You need more, the coil in your belly spiraling a little more with each teasing stroke.
When he makes his demand again, you wait until he’s seated back in your body and you clench down hard. He may know your body, but you know his too. The sudden movement making his hip falter, you loop your arms around his neck and ride him. Clamping down on his cock as you circle your hips, your hips crashing into his as you take your pleasure.
“fuck baby, damn it”, his low moans in your ear driving you wild, “fuck so tight”
Chris steps away from the wall, his hands dropping to your hips, guiding you over him, the loud slapping of skin overtaken by your growing cries of pleasure. He stumbles to the bed, falling backward, keeping you firmly seated on his cock, not wanting to let go. Your hot velvety walls feeling too good around him to let you go. He bounces on the sheets, thrusting so deep in you, hitting that spot in you so hard, the coil in your belly springs loose, making you sob his name as pleasure wracks your body.
Chris watches you cum apart on his cock. You look absolutely destroyed, fucking gorgeous with your hand fisted in that stupid shirt, the other grabbing your tit while your greedy cunt milks his cock. He holds back, fucking you through your orgasm, his fingers spreading your folds, mesmerized by how pretty your pussy looks wrapped around him.
He can feel himself about to cum, but he’s even greedier than you are, “give me another baby” he pleads, “you can give me one more” he insists when you shake your head, the aftershocks of your first orgasm combined with his expert strokes starting another one that leaves you whimpering.
Your body is his to play with now, he gets one more out of you, dragging it out until you collapse, quivering on his sweaty chest, your shirt sticking to your body. He pushes you down one last time, roaring your name as he spills his hot seed into your body.
You slide off his softening dick with a wince, laying flat on your back. Breathing through your mouth, wiping your forehead off with the bottom of your shirt. Chris turns his head, glowering at you. When you see him staring at that logo, you burst into laughter.
“Aw, what's a matter Evans,” you pant, a smirk forming on your lips, “I thought you’d be using to losing just like your team,”
Chris stares at the ceiling for a second, nodding. He swiftly sits up, climbing down the bed, pulling you with him until your pussy is in front of his face, “you’re not going to win Darlin,”
His devious smile making your face fall. You may have pushed him too far.
When he latches on to your clit, your entire body spasms. After he forces the sixth orgasm out of you, you tear the shirt off. When he doesn’t stop moving over your sensitive flesh, having settled in for a long session, you wish you had picked up the Captain America shirt instead.
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𝙈𝙮 𝘽𝙖𝙗𝙮 𝙈𝙖𝙢𝙖 | 𝘾.𝙀
𝙋𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 — Chris Evans x Fem!wife!reader
𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 — reader being pregnant and chris just being so in love with reader‘s body and the fact that she‘s carrying their little one?
𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 — Pregnancy if that is a warning, emotions
𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙙 — This is short and sweet, follow @sstan-library if you don't want to be tagged. The owner of the request I excluded the smut because I for one am not a fan if sex while the reader is pregnant hope you understand! Feeling Like making a part two!
𝙇𝙞𝙣𝙠𝙨 — Masterlist | Taglist
“Chris?” You whispered into the dark as you felt a hand caress your belly and prepping it with little kisses.
“Yes babe?” His voice sounded innocent.
“What are you doing?”
“Worshiping your body with our little one.” If it wasn’t for your tiredness, you would have melted away on the spot.
“Baby it’s two o’clock in the morning.” Chris lifted his head propping it on your belly with puppy eyes. “Go to bed.” You told him as you caressed his cheek gently.
“But babe….” He whined.
“Nope, sleep.” Chris grumbled something that sounded like ‘yes mama’ before he got of your belly and laid his head on your chest but not without putting his hand on your baby belly.
You really loved being pregnant but not being able to do the simplest things and there were those awfully annoying hormones.
You sat on the floor trying to put on your socks – your favourite pair of socks – but you couldn’t reach your feet.
“No!” A cry left your lips as you gave up, Chris who was in the living room heard you through the house and promptly stood up to check on you.
He climbed the stairs already hearing muffled cries through the bedroom door.
“Everything okay sweetheart?” He asked once opening the door, you sat there on the floor with Captain America socks in your hands while your eyes were filled with tears. “I’m fat and can’t even put on socks! Socks fucking socks! And they were my favourite, I was so excited to wear them.”
Chris eyes softened and he sat down next to you taking the socks from you he put the over your feet.
“There now you can wear them.” You sniffled as your husband spoke.
“And you are not fat, you are beautiful and glowing. You are going to bring life into this world, our little baby.” He stroked your tears away.
Your tears stopped and you tried to give Chris a hug, but your belly stopped you. Chris saw tears well up in your eyes again. “No, no, no I can hug you.” He proposed and didn’t waste any time in scooping closer to you and wrapping his arms around you.
“I’m so sensitive.” You began complaining Chris however shook his head. “No you’re lovely and I love every bit of it.” He promised.
A head cocked into the room that belonged to Dodger, he had heard you crying only that Chris told him to stay put, but now he had to look himself given that Chris didn’t came back. Dodger strutted into the room and sat down infront of you and Chris.
“Hey bubba.” Chris greeted him as he scratched his ears, Dodgers nudged your belly before putting his paw on the side of you stomache, suddenly he pulled his paw back you could see his confusen, knowing what caused it you giggled. “What?” Chris questioned you when Dodger put his paw down.
“Dodger just felt our baby kick.” You smiled at him with pure happiness, Chris eyes lit up at your statement. He put his hand on the exact same spot as Dodger and again the baby kicked.
Chris looked at your belly with adoration, you put your hand on his gripping it tightly. “That’s our baby Chris and your little sibling Dodger.”
Chris himself teared up now out of happiness, that was what he always wanted his own family.
“Babe?” You called through the house in search for your beloved husband.
You had been cooking lunch when he suddenly vanished in fin air telling you he be back any minute.
Sighing you went looking for him and where did you find him? In the nursing room searching for something. “Babe watcha looking for?” You rised an eyebrow at him.
Chris seeming to have found what he was looking for turned around with a little white boy in his hands with a red bow on the top, Chris gave you a cute smile before handing you the gift.
“Thank you.” You said amazed and took the gift from his hands. It was a white romper with a font printed on it: ‘I have the best Mama’ and to that there was a photo of a little child and his mother, your mouth fell open at the clothing it was the cutest thing you have ever seen.
“Aww Chris that is so cute.” You told him while walking up to him, you grasped his neck to pull him into kiss.
“I can’t wait for our little baby and you’re gonna be the best mama.” He mumbled against your lips.
He kissed you again when you felt something wet in your sweat pants. “Uh Chris?” “Yeah babe?” He whispered kissing down your neck.
“I think my water just broke…” Chris teared his eyes open. “Oh my god!”
𝙏𝙖𝙜𝙨 — [reminder the Kinktober taglist morphs with my normal one, there is a question at the top of the form, if you want off and only kinktober tell me!]
@adventurer1789 @slut-for-bucky-barnes @thehuntresswolf @wandalosthervision @til-my-feet-are-wet @tomhoelland01 @starbuckycoffee @sebastianstanonedirectionchris @tommyboyxxxx @kaiparker-avengerssmut @cyeh1123 @evans-cavill @doihavetoidontwanna @emmygrey21 @tanyam93 @hrryflvoured @disappointmentofthefam @excellentbecca @learning-howto-be-myselfx3 @ambinxe @buckyxxrogers @anythingandeverything97 @wydtrina @buckysbabydolldude @poetic-heart @taysiasworld @iambeeee @browneyedgirl365 @satzukim @innocent-ones @xealia @patzammit @jeeperky @shmaptian-ashmerica @marvelfan2300 @h-evans @hq6667754 @anonymousswritings @liz-owl @honeyyxashes @maybe-a-bi-witch @bluemoonyumi @cevans-wife @slutforchrisjamalevans @buckysbae @sunflowerfive @lewisjada03 @keendinosaurballoon @cottoncandycoyo
Sorry to the people I can't tag, hope it gets fixed
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Can I get a headcannon for CE characters kinks or favorite positions?
of course you can dove!! i’m gonna include chris himself only to make up for the fact that i don’t know many of his characters!! still gotta watch defending jacob :// as always, gifs not mine!
favorite position : doggy
look, chris is an ass man, we all know this. what better way to get a view of it than fucking you from behind? a close runner up is reverse cowgirl
chris definitely has a breeding kink, he wants kids so bad, so it works perfectly
thigh riding, yes this is self indulgent but tell me his thighs don’t look so inviting?? he’d love the fact that he can get you off without doing any work
degradation & praise. in the same breath, “fuck babe, you’re so desperate for me huh? my pretty little cumslut.”
i feel like chris has a housewife kink too??? coming home to you, wearing nothing but his shirt and making him dinner or cookies would have him going feral.
favorite position: missionary or doggy
now i think this depends on ari’s mood. when he’s showing you how much he loves you, it’s nice and sweet, he loves to look into your eyes while he makes love to you. when he just wants to be close to you, missionary is his favorite, although he loves to see you ride him
when he’s had a bit more of a rougher day, that’s when your face first in his bed, and he’s relentless. his grip on your hips is so tight it’s bruising, or he’ll push your head into the mattress, making all your pretty sounds muffled
ari most definitely loves to tie you up, but not like normal bondage, i’m thinking shibari. those beautiful elaborate ties that he can just stare at for hours on you
this man can 1. eat pussy like a god, and 2. enjoys it. you’ve been woken up many times with him in between your thighs.
hair pulling absolutely loves when you pull his hair. i feel like this kink was accidentally discovered one day, and y’all haven’t been the same since
not so much a kink, but needs to be mentioned, ari is a huge tease and it’s so unfair. he loves hearing you beg for him. “you can do better than that love, c’mon. beg for me. beg for my cock.”
favorite position: n/a
ransom honestly doesn’t have a preference, he’ll take you when and where he wants. as long as there’s surface you can be bent over, laid on, or pushed up against, he’s a happy man
getting caught or public sex. i feel like ransom would absolutely not care where you guys were, as long as you were okay with it, hes fucking you. his favorite spot so far is outside his mother’s house in the beamer.
knife play? i feel like he’d bring up the idea of it but maybe not actually do anything with it. idk that scene of him with the fake knife did something to me 👀
look me in the eyes and tell me hugh ransom drysdale doesn’t like to be called daddy. you literally can’t.
dacryphilia, he loves to see your eyes tear up from choking on his cock or when you get so overstimulated you can’t help but cry. bonus points for ruining your makeup. he absolutely will mock you for it too “d’awww did i ruin your makeup bunny? too bad. i think you look better like this anyways, all teary eyed from my cock.”
favorite position: missionary or cowgirl
ok hear me out, missionary is a classic and as someone who is/ was very romantic, steve would love it. he gets to look deep into your eyes, tell you how much he loves you, how you’re his girl.
but, when you’re a brat or we’re talking about nomad! steve and pretty much anytime after he comes back, it’s cowgirl. he loves to see your face as you fall apart on his cock. he can easily hold you up and just thrust up into you.
okay, shocking fuckin nobody, he likes being called captain or cap in bed. he has a total authority kink.
would die if you wore one of the old showgirl outfits or something similar to it. maybe even if you wore a slutty captain america costume
steve also has a housewife kink, he can’t wait for the craziness to end so you to can settle down. yes, he makes you wear cute dresses from the 40s and 50s without underwear for him.
i feel steve would constantly praise you, because he’s just so happy he’s found you. sometimes he’ll throw some degrading comments your way, but overall he can’t say anything bad about you. “sweetheart, you look so beautiful, such a good girl for me. can you cum one more time for your captain huh?”
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Drysdale Twins x Waitress!Reader AU
Run-through: Fresh out of uni, you wander around aimlessly. Turns out getting a university degree doesn’t always guarantee you a job as soon as you graduate, and you refuse to move back with your parents so now you find yourself on your own in a big, bad city. You somehow stumble upon the website of a high end club, and find out that they were hiring. And that’s when two sexy devils enter your life; owners of the club, Steve and Ransom. Polar opposite twins who are just as rich, powerful and irresistible as each other, and are both now determined to make you entirely theirs. You manage to resist your drop dead gorgeous bosses for a little while, but not for too long. Not when they are so sinfully, seductively persuasive…
Themes: smut, fluff, cocktail waitress!reader, threesome, fluff
“Any other questions?”
Steve asked. And Ransom, sitting right next to him, just gave you a flirty smirk - like he had been the whole time you were here.
Good lord, you were feeling even more nervous under their stare.
You had applied for this job last night, and you woke up this morning to an email asking you to show up at the tower owned by the Drysdale twins - owners of the club itself, for an interview. You were glad they chose the club as a venue for the interview as it helped in getting you acclimated to the environment. And given that you were to start working tonight itself, this would certainly help with the nervousness to come later.
The club was incredible. Sophisticated, all red and black interior and spacious. You noticed the stage where all the dancers would be later tonight, the poles, the booths and the multiple hallways which led to what Ransom earlier referred to as ‘champagne rooms’ which is just a fancy way of saying ‘private rooms’ you figured.
You cleared your throat before speaking up, “Will I work in those, um, champagne rooms?” You asked.
They both shook their heads.
“No, you will not do champagne rooms. That’s not part of your job. Nor dances, although you will be offered to by some customers but that’s not part of your job either. You’ll be a cocktail waitress - serve, chat, take your tips and keep them company and that’s about it.” Steve explained.
You nodded. “And the ad mentioned something about accommodation.”
Steve nodded, smiling. “Yes, you’ll find the rest of the details in the contract but basically there are a number of apartments in the tower,” he pointed to the ceiling with his finger, where the remaining of the floors were, “which we rent out to all the girls who work here. You will be given one too.”
Ransom added right after, “It’s just our way of ensuring that the girls are always safe, even if they are not at work. You see, the city is not exactly the safest. And although almost all of our customers are well-behaved, you will find the occasional pig who thinks that our girls are simply here for their enjoyment. Or they feel they’re entitled to do whatever they please just because they’re paying.” He sent a look towards his brother, “And we wouldn’t want the girls to get into any sort of trouble while on their way home or on their way to work. So here at the tower, they’re safer.”
You nodded, and Steve added again, “Even while at work, remember that no one has the right to even hold your hand without your consent. So if anyone does anything you find remotely uncomfortable, simply call any of our security guys and they will handle the rest.”
Ransom scoffed at the sound of that. Steve rolled his eyes and added, “Or rather, Ransom will handle them.”
That made you smile, for some reason. You studied the two brothers, your future bosses, just a little bit longer. Steve was dressed in a well-tailored suit, perfect beard, perfect hair - he had to be the brains. The one who handled the money and their businesses. Ransom looked the exact opposite; soft sweater, slightly messy hair and a clean face. You noticed the slight bruises on his wrist - boxing, maybe or perhaps he beat someone up. He was definitely the muscle. And the flirt.
You couldn’t believe that THE Drysdale brothers - multi-millionaires who practically owned this city were about to be your bosses. And the most surprising part, you could already feel the tension between you and them. There has been this pull and this thick tension in the air ever since you walked in and sat opposite to them in one of the booths. The lights were not too bright, nor too dim. But the unspoken attraction as they stared at you was too obvious to ignore. Like an entity, it took up the rest of the space between you and the gorgeous men.
Steve managed to contain himself, but Ransom was a shameless flirt. And they were both staring right at you, and you were not used to having this much attention all at once so you fidgeted just a little. Your skin felt hot and tingly. Steve cleared his throat as though the tension was affecting him just as much as it was affecting you.
“Any other queries?” He asked again, Ransom just leaned back in his chair and watched you quietly.
You looked around for a moment. “What time do I start tonight?”
You stared at yourself in the mirror in the bathroom. You looked great; expensive lingerie, red silk slip with lace details and surprisingly comfortable heels. You giggled quietly to yourself as you fixed your hair and reapplied your dark red lipstick.
That life-changing interview happened about a month ago. And since then, so much has changed already. You had earned more than you expected to, you made friends with all the girls, you had settled into your new place - several floors above the club, and you were enjoying your job. Correction, you adored your job. From the paycheck, to the tips you made, to the friends you had at work; all of it was amazing.
Not to mention your very flirty interactions with your bosses. Steve and Ransom were always around. You found out a couple of days into the job that they lived in the penthouse of the tower, so they were almost always down here at night - keeping an eye over the club. There was no way you could ignore the way they looked at you, or how they somehow were always in the same room as you. At the club, of course. But also at the gym found in the tower; where you’d notice Ransom would always find himself whenever you were in there. Or how Steve always walked in so casually whenever you were in the mini library on your days off.
The tension was just as prominent between you and both of them as it was on the day you first met them. But there were days when reality hit you and you told yourself there was no way you’d indulge in anything more than some flirty comments or lingering stares with them because at the end of the day, they were your employers.
You sighed at the thought, fixing your hair once more before you walked out of the bathroom. You walked down the glowing, neon red lights which filled the hallway and reached the main area where as soon as you stepped out in the open, you felt goosebumps on your skin. You didn’t even have to look, you knew they were watching you from somewhere. Both of them.
You smirked to yourself, straightened your back and walked over to the open bar where some of your girlfriends were gathered. Some nights were busier, but on a chill night like tonight, you girls enjoyed yourself. Good music, free drinks and each other’s company - perfect.
You were sipping on some champagne when one of your girlfriends giggled to herself before leaning in to whisper to you, “Steve’s eyeing you like he could eat you up.”
You almost choked on your drink. While it was hard to ignore the tension between you and the twins, it was equally hard to hide it from those around. By now, everyone knew that the twins and you had something going on. The girls even had a bet going on - who would make the first move, you, Steve or Ransom? Most money was on Ransom because of his reputation.
The rest of the girls giggled along and someone said, “Oh here he comes.” Before they all dispersed and walked away, pretending to be busy; leaving you all alone with whichever of the twins were walking towards you.
You turned around with a polite smile on your face and in front of you stood Ransom. Looking as delicious as ever. His signature soft sweaters and clean face - just as gorgeous as the day you first met him.
“Hi,” You gave him a proper smile.
He shamelessly gave you a look over, making you feel all hot and bothered, as he leaned against the counter effortlessly. “Hello, angel. Did you get my flowers?” he asked, sending a quick look around the main floor.
There weren’t many customers tonight, but judging by the amount of cash thrown around - which would get picked up later by those who came to clean up each night - you could tell that they made just as much money as any other busy night.
Getting back to his question, his flowers. Ah yes, Ransom sent flowers to your floor each week. Not just any random bouquet but gigantic boxes of red roses which screamed pricey. And he sent them this morning as well.
“I did.” You smiled at him. “They’re beautiful, as always. Thank you.”
He smiled back, “You’re welcome.” He said, reaching out so casually to twirl a lock of your hair around his fingers. It took everything in you not to lean closer as he spoke, “Steve sent me to tell you that he would like to see you in his office tomorrow morning, up at the penthouse.”
Oh? You shifted your gaze from Ransom to where Steve sat on the other side of the room, on one of the couches; manspreading and on the phone - probably barking orders at someone. Always so busy.
You couldn’t help but ask, “Am I in trouble?”
Ransom smirked, tugging on your lock of hair just the tiniest bit. “No angel,” he added almost seductively, “Not yet.” He chuckled. “He just wants to talk and make sure everything is going smoothly with you. It’s something he likes to do with all our staff.”
You nodded. “Alright then. I’ll be there.” Your voice sounded just a little bit shaky at the thought of being inside a closed room with Steve. It wasn’t nervousness. Tt was pure, burning desire.
Ransom caught the look on your face and decided to tease you further. “You sound nervous. Does he intimidate you? I mean I know he can be a little scary.” Ransom leaned in just a little closer, lowering his voice even though there was no one around to eavesdrop, “If he scares you tomorrow, you can always run to my room. I’ll protect you.”
You let out a little laugh. “Thank you, Ransom. You’re too kind.” For a moment or two, you got lost in his pretty eyes but then you dragged yourself back to reality before you started leaning in, unable to resist his charms. “I should go…” you turned to look over at your girlfriends who were making all sorts of inappropriate hand gestures.
Ransom chuckled. “You’re always running from me.” He pointed out, out of nowhere. And you froze for a moment. He leaned in again, discreetly pressing a soft kiss to your exposed shoulder, “Not for long, angel.” He pulled away and winked, “Good night.”
Oh… You remained there, standing at the counter which you had to lean against just so you don’t drop on the floor. You could still feel his soft lips on your skin and your face got really hot as you watched him walk away. Oh God… and everyone saw that. They would never let you forget it.
Ransom walked away, feeling all proud of himself. He knew, from the moment you walked into their club that day, that you were theirs. It was an unspoken promise made between him and his brother - you would eventually become theirs, completely.
He walked up to Steve, looking all smug. The latter rolled his eyes at him, “Go on, boast all you want. I’m listening.”
Ransom chuckled as he took a seat next to Steve. “I kissed her first, just so you know.”
Steve sighed, refusing to argue with him that shoulder kisses don’t count, because he knew it would eventually end up being a fist fight. It always did. Instead he just leaned back into his seat and watched you.
They both always watched you while you went around, they noticed how quickly you became the customers’ favorite waitress over the past month. Steve always felt a lick of jealousy, and he knew Ransom felt it too, whenever someone would bring you gifts; jewelry or things like that, but you always took them discreetly - never showing off to the girls who were quickly becoming your friends.
You were such an angel, and yet you fit perfectly into their personal slice of hell.
You found yourself being a complete nervous wreck as you took the elevator up to the penthouse. You had had one on ones with each of the twins, but it was always in an open room with at least one or two people around. Like at the club, or the gym or the library. But the thought of being alone in Steve’s office was… weirdly arousing.
You stepped out into their foyer and quickly glanced at your appearance in the mirrors nearby and fixed your hair nervously as you pressed the bell. One of the housekeepers answered the door and asked you to follow her to Steve’s office.
You did, and the moment the lady left you alone just outside Steve’s office, your hands started shaking just a little - mostly in excitement. As gorgeous Steve was, he was also a little intimidating. Not a little, quite a lot. He was the broody kind of handsome, the kind of man who was almost always on his phone ordering his people around. Always dressed in sharp suits, and silk ties which made you want to-
Your thoughts were cut short when the door flew open before you even knocked. And on the other side stood Steve.
“Hello,” he greeted you. “I’ve been waiting for you. Come on in.” He opened the door wider and shut it again once you walked into his office.
His work area was exactly as you expected it to be. Classy, sleek and airy. Void of any colours other than black, grey and white. The view from up here was to die for, as expected. You looked around and noticed minimal furniture. Black leather couches, a large desk, and a few books shelves and that was it.
You felt him behind you before he even spoke up. His body merely inches from yours. You felt his warm breath against your skin as he leaned in to whisper in your ear, “Have a seat.”
You realized you were still standing in the middle of the room so you started walking over to his desk, but he stopped you by gently grabbing your elbow.
“No.” He said gently, “Over there, doll.” He pointed towards the couches.
You noticed he didn’t let go of your arm as you walked towards the leather couches instead. You took a seat and he walked over and took a seat across from you. Your heart raced with excitement.
He took his time in giving you a look over and you tried your hardest not to pounce on the man. You cleared your throat and spoke up first instead, “Ransom said you wanted to talk.”
He nodded. “Yes, every once in a while I like to speak to the girls individually to see if everything is going swimmingly. See if they have any complaints, or anything at all. I’m all ears.”
Oh. For some reason, as much as you liked all the other girls, the thought of them up here alone with Steve in his office made you feel some type of way. Angry? No, just jealous. You were jealous.
Steve caught the look on your face. He was good at reading people and he knew just what was going on in your head. Part of him liked the thought of you feeling a little jealous, and part of him wanted to tease you further.
He spoke up again, just to mess with you. “You know, normally the girls are very thorough. So, there’s no need to rush, I’m here to listen to you.”
Ugh. He had to make it worse, and you were sure by now he could see the faint frown on your face. “I don’t have much to say, I guess.” You said as you kept your eyes lowered to your lap. “Everything's fine.”
Steve smirked at the vague answer. He was having too much fun with this. “Sure?”
You nodded. God, he was so confusing. You had been anxious and almost excited to see him all morning, all for what? To be told that he and the other girls have been ‘thorough’? Perhaps you should run to Ransom after all.
“Look at me.” He ordered, and a chill danced down your spine and you lifted your head up to look at him. He was smirking as he held his hand out, “Come here, doll.”
You kept the slight frown on as you stood up and took his hand. He patted his lap and you felt a sudden warmth wash over you. He wanted you to… well, you’d be happy to oblige but-
Your thoughts were yet again cut short as he tugged on your arm abruptly, causing you to land so perfectly on his lap. Your legs folded on either side of his thighs, straddling him as your little sundress bunched up at your upper thighs. And your body was so close to his, so close that you could feel heartbeats.
He loosely wrapped his arms around you and gave you that same smug look Ransom often did whenever he was really proud of the cheesy pick up lines he often used on you.
When you finally broke free from the spell of his blue eyes, you said, “You were just messing me, weren’t you?”
He chuckled. “I’m allowed to mess with my girl, aren’t I?”
You raised an eyebrow. This was moving so fast it almost gave you a whiplash, but his arms around your waist anchored you well. “Your girl? Is this what you tell all of the girls?”
He laughed. “No, because as amazing as they all are, they’re not quite like you.” He kept staring into your eyes and he had you so strongly under his spell that you didn’t realize he was leaning into you until you felt his lips pressed against yours.
You shut your eyes and placed your arms around his neck, kissing him back. The feeling of his beard against your skin was foreign but you welcomed it. His large hands lazily roamed your body; up and down your sides before settling right on top of your butt as he pulled you closer. He bit down on your lip as he gripped your hips and ground you against his crotch. The gasp which escaped your lips made him chuckle.
He was hard, and big under you. His erection pressing against you so perfectly that you almost moaned.
Steve pressed his mouth to yours again, slipping his tongue past your lips; making you moan as he took his time and tasted you. You barely paid any attention to his wandering hands which found their way to the front of your thong. He gently pulled the waistband of your underwear down as he pressed his thumb to your throbbing clit.
You let out a soft moan as he gently circled your clit with his thumb. He hummed in satisfaction as he dipped his finger into your folds to gather your wetness before spreading it around your clit. Your hips moved on their own, riding his fingers and his crotch all at once. He grunted, and ended with a chuckle as he pulled away from your mouth.
“Do you have any idea how hard it is, to hold back from you,” he leaned in to kiss along your cheek till he reached your ear, “To hold back from wanting to bend you over and doing bad, bad things to you?” He earned a moan out of you as he quickened the pace at which his thumb teased your clit. “Hmm? Do you?”
Fuck. Your body felt like it was on fire. You tried your hardest to control your moans as he toyed with your sensitive clit, but you also wanted more. “Then what’s stopping you?” You asked, breathlessly as he nibbled on your earlobe.
He sped up as he answered, “I believe it would make Ransom a little upset if he were to find out that you and I had that kind of fun without including him. Don’t you think so?”
You moaned at the sound of that, your hips moving faster against his fingers as you felt the pressure building in between your hips. He was purposely drawing this out as much as he could, because he had been craving the sight of you moaning wantonly while on his lap since the day he first met you.
You pushed your face into the crook of his neck, whining as he sped up again. “And what kind of fun is this then?” You asked, referring back to what he said previously. He groaned as you nibbled on his skin, gently teasing him and urging him to make you come already.
“This,” he growled quietly as you licked along his throat, “is just a little bit of selfish pleasure for me exclusively because I can’t seem to think about anything else other than how much I want to make you come for me whenever I look at you.”
His words were your undoing. You gasped and moaned as he sped up, his thumb rubbing your clit furiously. Your wetness coated his fingers as you came for him, the waves of pleasure washing over you. A while later, when you caught your breath and calmed your racing heart finally, you pulled away to look at him.
Steve had a bit of colour in his cheeks, and you giggled as you pressed your lips to his again. He grabbed you by the butt and pressed you tighter against him. “You’re so perfect, doll.” He mumbled.
And that was the only thing you could think about for the rest of the day. Just Steve, his filthy words and his fingers.
Until Ransom showed up. At around ten at night, which is when you usually get ready to go to work downstairs. You had just finished your hair and makeup when you heard a knock at your door, you answered it in just your robe. And there stood Ransom, with a black box in his hand.
“Hi Ransom.” You hadn’t seen him when you went up at the penthouse to meet Steve earlier, so your heart did its stupid little happy dance when you saw him at your door.
He looked so good you felt weak in your knees. Cream coloured cable knit sweater, dark pants, and his usual slightly messy hair.
“Hi angel. May I come in?”
The playfulness in his voice didn’t go unnoticed. “Sure, come on.” You led him in and before you could say anything, he grabbed your hand and led you into your bedroom as soon as you shut the door behind you. Okay then.
Once inside your bedroom, he handed you the box he’d brought. “I would love it if you wear this tonight.”
You took it, lifted your head to look at him and you found him staring at you with a flirty smirk. You looked down at the box in your hands. “Any particular reason why?” You couldn’t help the smirk forming on your own face.
Ransom chuckled. “I mean, if you’re secretly gonna let Steve be the first one to make you come, the least you can do is wear what I’d like to see on you while you strut around tonight.”
His crude words fueled the fire inside you. You didn’t know what made your face burn hotter; the fact that Ransom bought you lingerie of his liking for you to wear for him tonight, or the fact that the twins talked about you so explicitly when you weren’t there.
Holy fuck. This was so immoral but you would be lying if you said it didn’t make you want them even more. You held his stare as you lifted the lid of the box off and in it was, as you expected already, red lingerie. And yet another red, silk slip which you could add to your growing collection. You noticed the black details on the set and you looked back at Ransom.
“It’s lovely.” You said, then as a sudden boost of confidence hit you, you pushed the box towards him. “Since you bought it for me, how about you help me put it on?”
The way his smirk disappeared for a moment before reappearing again gave away that he was not expecting this. But he took the box from you in a heartbeat. And by the time he took the contents out and dropped them on your bed, you had discarded your robe and now stood in front of him, naked.
He smirked and grabbed the red thong first, kneeling in front of you and allowing you to step into them. You held on to his shoulder for support as you put your legs through and waited for him to pull it up. But instead, he leaned in and kissed your front. A gasp of surprise left your mouth as he kissed further down, along your folds. You felt all warm and tingly as he craned his neck up to look at you.
“Steve said you make all these adorable noises when you come. I wanna hear them for myself,” he whispered before pressing his mouth to your core and shoving his tongue past your lips. He hummed as he tasted you, gripping your hips and he pushed you further into his mouth, the red thong long forgotten around your ankles.
Ransom’s tongue slipped past your folds and teased your entrance; occasionally flicking your throbbing clit mercilessly. Your hands immediately gripped his hair and tugged gently at his roots. You were sure that the sight of him kneeling in front of you, pleasuring you with all his might would replay in your head the whole night while you were at work.
“Ransom…” You gasped quietly, unable to form coherent words; not when he parted your folds and fucked you with his tongue.
He smirked, even with half his face buried between your legs. “Did it feel this good when he touched you earlier? Hmm?” he asked, thrusting his tongue deeper into you.
You moaned and whimpered, your body getting warmer and warmer with each touch of his tongue. “Please…” You whined.
Ransom just growled. “I don’t remember him telling me you have the habit of begging for it.” He teased and kept licking deeper into you.
You whimpered, feeling your walls tighten around nothing. You knew you were close. And judging by how loud and frequent your moans were, he could tell as well. “Are you gonna cum for me, angel?” He whispered against your skin before biting down on your inner thigh as you whined above him. You must’ve nodded pathetically given that he growled, “Go on, cum for me.”
You let go, and let that pressure explode inside of you. Ransom kept tongue-fucking you as you came undone all over his lips, moaning and whimpering. And only after licking you clean did he stand back up, smirking in triumph as he dragged the thong up your legs. He was shameless enough to lean in and whisper, “You taste so good, angel.”
Ransom dressed you up carefully, taking his time and kissing your skin as much as he could until you felt like you’d come undone again under his soft touches. When he was done, he slowly circled you as he admired you. You giggled when he finally pulled you into his arms and gave you a loud smooch on your cheek.
You had hoped he would give you a proper kiss on the lips. And at the sight of your questioning look, he simply said, “Can’t mess with your lipstick.”
You figured he must’ve heard you tell one of the girls how much you hated it when your lipstick gets smudged. How thoughtful. “But I can.” You leaned in and pressed an open mouth kiss right on his neck, under his jaw where it would be the most visible. Leaving behind a rather prominent red lipstick stain on him; which stood out against the cream sweater and his fair skin.
After that steamy interaction, Ransom held your hand the whole way downstairs. And you should’ve known he would make a big deal of the imprint of your lips on his skin. Tonight was a somewhat busy night, and yet you managed to catch him walking around with it, proudly parading around the club as he showed off your lipstick stain on his neck like it was a work of art. You even caught him showing it off to Steve, and you turned to look away before the latter could react to it.
You were distracted enough by their burning stares, you couldn’t let them have that much control over you otherwise you wouldn’t be able to work. Luckily you were able to drown the thoughts of them out as you mingled and interacted with some of the customers.
But even as you laid in bed at night, or rather the early hours of the morning, you couldn’t get rid of the thoughts of them. They’d teased you enough to make you want them even more than before, which isn’t something you thought was possible. The thought of Steve’s fingers and Ransom’s tongue lulled you into sleep but you woke up feeling even hungrier for their touch than ever before.
You should’ve known this would be pure torture. Of course they would draw out this little game for long enough to make you beg, to make you crawl to them. You should’ve known.
For the next two nights in a row, the twins barely gave you any special attention other than lingering stares and soft touches here and there which only ignited the flames of desire in you. You were on the verge of losing it. Each smirk, each brush of their fingers as they accepted drinks from you, each flirty comment; it all only made you even more hungry for their touch. Both of them.
On the third night however, you noticed something. The twins were nowhere to be found. You hadn’t seen them at the club for the whole time you’d been working tonight. But then it all made sense when one of the security guards approached you with a polite smile and said, “They’re waiting for you in room number two.” And left without any further explanation.
So this was the whole point of their little game, to get you to come to one of the champagne rooms. You waited until no one was watching before you disappeared into one of the hallways which would lead to room number two. Given that it wasn’t part of your job, you had never been inside one of those.
While you were expecting some sort of neon light filled sex dungeon, the champagne room was actually the exact opposite. Dim red lights, velvet interior along with padded walls, multiple couches and of course, two hotties waiting for you.
“Hi angel.” Ransom got up from one of the couches and walked over to you. “You look absolutely breathtaking.” He spoke, bringing your hand up to his lips to kiss your knuckles.
You’d agree, you did look great. Your signature red ensemble; red lipstick, red lingerie, red silky slip and strappy ‘fuck-me’ heels. And as much as you liked his praises, and the look on Steve’s face - which gave away that he was just as starved as you were, you were done with their little games. They had left you hanging for two days straight and now they were trying to win you with compliments and lingering stares?
So instead of immediately dropping to your knees, you asked, “What am I doing here? I thought I didn’t do champagne rooms.” You tried your hardest to sound as calm and as serious as possible, but the hunger was evident in your sultry tone.
Steve fought back a chuckle and spoke up gently, “Come here.” He held his hand out for you.
You couldn’t resist him even if you tried. Not with him looking so inviting; standing by the largest, velvet square pouffe you had ever seen. It could’ve been easily mistaken for a large, button upholstered bed.
He caught the way you were trying to fight the visible hunger in your eyes as you slowly advanced towards him. Ransom followed, not too far behind.
You went over and stood in front of him, not placing your hand in his just to show him that you weren’t entirely pleased with their behavior these past two days. And just when you were about to open your mouth and say something sarcastic at him, both of them actually, Ransom wrapped his arms around you from behind and placed his chin on your shoulder.
“Are you upset, angel? Are you mad at us?” He nuzzled your neck and kissed your skin. “We’re so sorry to keep you waiting, baby. We were just playing.”
Your brows furrowed as you looked up as Steve, now sandwiched between the two men. “You’re both so mean.”
Steve tilted his head to the side and reached up to gently brush the pad of his thumb to your lips, tracing your mouth softly. And that simple gesture brought back memories of the time spent in his office, and where his fingers had been that day instead.
He spoke up, “Apologies, doll.” He smirked. “We were just having way too much fun watching you walk around, knowing you were oh so desperate for our attention.” Ransom let out a little laugh at his words. Steve continued, leaning in to whisper in your ear, while Ransom nibbled on your other earlobe, “We even thought that you’d find your way up to the penthouse one of these days, but you were trying so hard to act like you weren’t on the verge of crawling to us and begging for it. Weren’t you, doll?”
Your body shivered. Thank God for Ransom’s strong grip, otherwise you weren’t sure how long your weak knees could hold you up. Not long, not when Steve’s words had that kind of an effect on you.
“So cruel.” You mumbled, and they both laughed quietly and the sound of their deep voices only made your heart race faster.
“You know,” Ransom spoke, pulling away from you just a little to kiss your shoulder, reminding you of the other day when you and him had some alone time, “We would be more than happy to make up for it.”
You bit your lip, looking up at him, then at Steve. The dimmed, soft red lights made them look devilish, and you craved them even more. Their hands were on you, one gripping your hip and caressing your exposed butt, the other rubbing up and down your arm just enough to make you tremble. It was overwhelming, oh but you wanted it so bad. Wanted them.
“I’d say you have a lot to make up for.”
That was all they needed to hear. One moment you were standing in front of them, and the next they were stripping as fast as they could, kissing you and touching you as much as they could as they led you to the large, bed-sized pouffe cornered against the wall.
You found yourself right in between them not even a minute after; now naked, Steve was behind you while Ransom was in front. All three of you trapped in a passionate, steamy bubble, they were both unable to keep their hands off you. Your flimsy lingerie was long forgotten on the floor by the time Ransom gripped your hips and settled your body right in between him and Steve.
You could tell by the look in their eyes that they couldn’t wait to fuck you either. You had been with more than one partner at once in the past, so you knew what to expect, but something about the twins still made you nervous - the good kind of nervous.
Steve grabbed the lube and as he lathered his cock with it, pressing his mouth to your ear, he whispered, “You’re gonna get all that you’ve been craving for, doll.” He teased, biting down on your shoulder. “And you’re gonna like it.” he added.
You whimpered, your core throbbing but ready for them at the same time. Your heart raced like crazy; in anticipation as you waited for one of them to finally fill you up. You couldn’t take their teasing any longer. You were desperate. Steve went first; he kissed along your neck and toyed with your hole for a bit with his tip before he pushed his thick cock slowly into your puckered hole. He had you whimpering and moaning in no time.
Your moans were shameless and obscene. And it triggered Steve’s own animalistic growls as he filled you up. You whimpered in pleasure and you leaned forward, bracing for Steve’s thrust and rested your forehead on Ransom’s shoulder to steady yourself, but before you could catch your breath and adjust to Steve’s size, Ransom parted your legs further and guided his cock over to your folds and pushed himself into you as well.
You moaned, your walls gripping them so hard that they both groaned at how tight you were and slowly started moving in and out of you. Taking their sweet time, teasing you even more with the slow, deliberate strokes.
“You okay, angel?” Ransom asked, once he was fully inside of you.
You felt your holes stretching with both of their cocks inside of you and you felt so full that you could barely talk. You gripped his arm tightly, and nodded. Trying to accommodate both of them inside you was exciting and your ability to think straight was long gone.
“So fucking tight…” Steve whispered against the back of your neck, holding back his loud moans. They both had their arms around you, holding you up.
The two moved gently, paying attention to your voice and facial expression, or if you showed any sign of pain or discomfort. Their burning stare and their full attention was too much to handle on its own. When they were fully convinced that you could in fact handle both of them, they moved in and out of you with a comfortable pace; creating a perfect momentum – granting all of you the pleasure you desperately needed. Especially you, given they had teased you for days.
You moaned wantonly as your walls clenched tightly around each of them. Your eyes rolling to the back of your head as the wet sounds your bodies made resonated around the room; sinful enough to make you almost lose your mind.
“You feel so good, doll…” Steve bit down on your shoulder, while his arm tightened around you, pulling you closer if that was possible. “So fucking good…” he nuzzled your neck, moaning and gasping just as you were.
Ransom fucked deeper into you, grasping your attention as he firmly placed his palm against your abdomen, right above your core. He could feel each one of his thrust and the bulge which formed each time his thick cock filled you up. So did you; moaning at how full you felt. “This is what you wanted, wasn’t it, angel? Take it, take all of it…” he whispered, breathlessly against your mouth as he thrust deeper into you; your wet warmth driving him insane with pleasure.
You were all theirs at that moment. And that was how they wanted it to be, always. All you could focus on was their voices, their moans and their body heat as it wrapped around you; they knew just what you needed, and they gave you just that. And more.
They both moved perfectly against you, your heart beats and breaths in sync. You felt the pressure growing in between your legs again, and you could no longer hold it back anymore. You were sensitive and full. You felt your walls clenching around both of them, and moments later, your eyes rolled to the back of your head while you came violently around both of them.
You cried out; with actual tears streaming down your face and you whimpered as they kept going even after you came; pounding into you from both sides and chasing their own release. The sounds of the moans and grunts coming from them made your body tingle. The sounds of their moans overlapping each others’ just made you shake even more.
Ransom came right after you with a loud moan, which you could swear was the hottest thing you ever heard. Steve came after both of you, panting as he carefully slipped out of you, letting his cum drip down your skin again. You whimpered when Ransom pulled out of you, you felt his cum oozing out of your folds and dripping down your thighs.
Your body felt heavy and limp, so you just leaned back against Steve’s warm and flushed body while Ransom kissed your lips roughly. You were sure you would be sore for days to come.
Steve wrapped his arms tightly around you and kissed your temple. “You’ve been such a good girl for us, doll. You’re absolutely perfect.” he whispered against your skin and kissed the side of your face.
You woke up on a comfortable bed, wrapped in silk sheets. You felt warm bodies on either side of you and a sleepy smile formed on your face.
“Good morning, angel.” You felt a warm breath against your skin and a strong arm circled your waist and pulled you back against a warm, muscular and bare chest. Ransom.
You sighed, you had an amazing night of sleep and waking up to Ransom made your morning even better. “Hi, where’s-,”
Before you could finish your sentence, you felt another pair of lips against your cheek. “Right here.” Steve mumbled, scooting closer to you and trapping you between him and Ransom again.
You turned to face his pretty face and you could cry at how perfect they both were. You just smiled up at him instead, “What time is it?”
“It’s… early. We can stay in bed a little longer.” Ransom replied, kissing your shoulder as you leaned against him.
Your eyes began closing again, when you heard Steve speak up, “You know, you can stay here for as long as you’d like, doll.” His lips brushed against the shell of your ear as he spoke.
You giggled because it tickled. “Uh huh. Yes, that’s what I intend on doing. Your bed is really comfy.”
Behind you, Ransom laughed as he playfully bit your shoulder, “He meant here, angel. In the penthouse with us.”
Oh? You forced your eyes open. You considered it for a quick minute. Then as your quick minute grew longer, Steve’s hand found itself around one of your breasts while Ransom’s hand dipped in between your legs.
Well fuck. You spoke up, fighting back the urge to moan under their touch. “Is it wise though, to mix business with pleasure like this?” Your tone was much more sultry than you expected it to be.
“We promise to behave, and be less…” Steve leaned in to playfully nip at your ear, “Cruel. Unless of course, you’d want us to be.”
Hmm. Well then…
“Alright then, I’ll stay.”
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Chris Evans x reader
Word count: 1k
"So what's the plan for this week?" Chris asked as he tidied up the breakfast dishes. Being home for a week off was a lovely surprise for the both of you. A co-star had an injury on set, meaning production had to stop. Everyone was ok, thankfully but it was still lovely to have him home for the week.
"I have stuff written on the calendar, check that and we can work around it" you replied as you fed Dodger. Chris picked up his coffee cup. Drinking it as he read through the week, everything was normal enough. Groomers for Dodger, food shop. He stopped his scanning as he read 'doctor'.
"Doctor, babe?" he wondered, looking over at you. Mild concern in his voice. "Yeah, need to refill my script for the pill" you replied as you washed your hands. Chuckling as you saw his face.
"Unless you'd like to start using condoms instead" you teased a bit, coming over and hugging his waist. Knowing your husband hated using them and avoided them if he could.
The clogs in his brain were working overtime. You could see that clearly, as you rested your chin against his chest. "What's going on in that head of yours?" you asked softly after a few minutes of him staring off distantly.
"Nothing" he mumbled after a moment. Flashing a smile before suggesting bringing Dodger to the dog park. You agreed with the idea and took his coffee cup from him so he could go and get the lead. Humming a bit to yourself as you sipped on the remaining coffee in the cup.
Something was definitely going on in that head of his. But if he was unwilling to share, you'd have to wait until he was ready.
You left him to stew for a few days. He didn't say anything else on the subject and life continued as normal. Though at times, you kept catching him staring at the calendar. Whether he was cooking in the kitchen and caught a glimpse at it. Or was just leaning against the counter and thinking.
Each time you brought it up, he shrugged and walked away. Not until three days later, was the subject brought up again. When you were out shopping in the mall did the subject come up again.
You had both decided to browse through the clothes. Not that you needed anything, in particular, just a look as the Boston weather had turned nasty outside and looking at clothes in the mall seemed like a good option.
You had found a nice top and was searching for the right size when your husband appeared beside you.
"So I've been thinking" Chris's voice rang out, breaking your attention from the clothes. "A dangerous concept, my dear" you teased a bit. Feeling his eyes rolling, you chuckled and asked, "what is it?"
He sighed, taking a deep breath before saying, "cancel the doctor's appointment." This caught your attention. Forgetting the top in front of you, you looked up. "Why?" you asked
Slowly, he held up a white baby grow. A tiny little thing, you felt like joking that he won't fit in that but felt it wasn't appropriate. Eyes moving from the grow to his eyes, you saw them wide and pleading. Puppy dog eyes.
"A baby?" you asked, laughing a bit. "is that why you have been moody?" you wondered, earning a shrug from him. He didn't consider himself moody. Just thoughtful. Slowly putting the baby clothes back, he turned back to you.
"Think how good you'd look, how sexy" he mumbled, coming close to you and hugging your body. Whispering in your ear, "what a good mom you'd be."
You sighed, kids had always been a part of the plan. You had married 6 months ago, and the plan was the wait for a while. Apparently, Chris wanted the plan sped up.
You agreed with a nod, "you'd be a fantastic father" you whispered. Thinking to all the times he had proven that exact point. When kids were on set with him or working with him.
"I'll take a career break too, finish up on this movie and then when you're 6 months, stop working. Not go back till your ok with it" he promised, smiling down at you. "So you and I can both do the first few months together. Or year. Years, however long."
You hummed. Thinking, as you looked at the baby grow he had placed down back in the clothes rack. You sighed and pulled back from the hug. Taking out your phone you scrolled through the contacts until you found the doctor and hit 'call'.
Chris watched you closely, keeping eye contact with you as you spoke to the doctor. "Yes, can I cancel the script for my pill" you confirmed with her. "But if you can order me some prenatal vitamins to start taking" you hummed. "Yes, everything I need to make sure a baby can be as healthy as possible. Yes, I'll see you Friday" you agreed happily and hung up the phone.
Throughout the phone call, Chris's breathing became a little deeper. Listening to you ordering the medicine to care for your child before they are even born.
"I think we should get home" Chris suggested in a hushed voice. Eyes darkening as he licked his lips. "I like that idea" you whispered, as he took your hand. Holding you close as you left the store to drive back home.
He wasn't leaving for another three days. Plenty of time to get started on making a baby.
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Can I request an x reader with Chris Evans?
One where you and him are costars filming a sex scene and you guys have always had a flirty relationship but the kissing and heat of the sex scene pushes you both to actually have sex either on set or in a trailer ?
behind the scenes; c.e
Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, fingering, oral (f receiving), praise kink, filming a sex scene, pining, a small amount of angst, happy ending, small mention of handjob, cum eating, 18+ only
A/N: i love this trope of actors that turn into something more, hope y'all enjoy!
You shouldn’t be this nervous.
This wasn’t the first sex scene that you had filmed in your acting career. Far from it. But hadn’t be this nervous since the first time you had ever filmed one, and it had nothing to do with the scene itself, rather, the person you were filming it with.
You’d known him through mutual friends for years, but your careers had really stopped you from getting to know each other better. Both of you were always crazy busy, and so it had been nice to have this time to work with him and actually get to spend time with him behind the scenes.
From the moment you’d met him, you’d known that you wanted him. But you had never acted on your feelings. Your life had gotten in the way of your feelings for him more times than you could count, but even then, you highly doubted that he would feel the same way about you. You’re an actress half his age. In your mind there was no way that he would date you for that reason alone, and so you decided to accept your place in the friend-zone and enjoy just being in his company for the time you had together during this project.
Still, you had been a little excited and terrified when you had received your contract and found out you would be filming a sex scene with him in this movie. Considering your crush, you were sure that this not a good step to moving past your feelings for him. But this role was exactly what you were looking for, and so you signed the contract and didn’t allow yourself to think about it anymore until you absolutely had to.
You could be professional… right?
It hadn’t surprised you in the slightest when you saw that the intimate scene was scheduled as one of the first to be filmed for the project. Directors usually liked to get this kind of stuff out of the way, get past the scenes that would make the cast feel a little awkward so you could enjoy the rest of the filming. But you still found yourself cursing the position you’d put yourself in, knowing that you’d have to be so close to him, so intimate, and then walk away like you felt nothing. Like it meant nothing.
Still, you pushed your feelings to the back of your mind as you prepared for the scene. You felt as your whole body was shaking with nerves with every step you took. A fluffy robe was the only thing covering your body from the rest of the people tirelessly working to get the set ready for shooting as you entered the stage. Chris was already there, wearing the exact same thing as you, and your heart lept into your throat at the sight.
You weren’t sure whether you should approach him or not before the scene. What would you even say? But that choice was made for you when he spotted you across the room and made his way to you.
“Hey darlin’,” he greets you with a warm smile, the nickname he’d given you when you’d first met never failing to send a warmth flooding through your veins, “What’s wrong? You look so nervous.”
“It’s nothing… it’s just…” you trail off, not knowing exactly what to say, but he seems to pick up your train of thought just from the look in your eyes.
“The scene?” he finishes your sentence, taking your hand in his when you nod, his sweet gesture not doing anything to calm the feelings bubbling deep inside you, “I don’t think anyone likes these scenes. But it’s just gonna be you and me and two people behind the camera. If you feel uncomfortable I can always go talk to the director for you?”
“No-no it’s nothing like that,” you assure him, squeezing his hand in your own subconsciously, “It’s just that I’ve never filmed a scene like this with a friend.”
He opens his mouth to speak, but the director calls for you to take your places. People filter out of the room until it’s just two people and the two of you, just like Chris promised. The director and the cameraman turn their backs for the two of you to undress and take your places in the bed. You’ve done this dozens of times in the past. You have the exact choreography of this scene completely memorised in your mind, so you try to focus on that as you let the robe fall to the ground and climb under the thin sheet that will cover the lower half of your bodies in the scene.
Any chance you had of distracting yourself from how much you wanted to be this close to him was completely ripped from you when his robe falls to the floor. Chris’ muscles are strong and defined, bulging with every movement he makes. He’s completely bare before you, save for the piece of material that was covering his obviously sizeable member.
He slowly takes his place besides you in the bed, his eyes scanning your face to make sure you’re comfortable. The way you’re looking at him drives him mad, and part of him wonders if you’re just getting into character, or if there is something real behind the fire in your eyes.
“Remember, it’s just me darlin’, I’m gonna be right here with you the whole time,” he whispers softly so that only the two of you can hear his words, “You okay if we get ready to start?”
“Yes,” your voice fails you, coming out a lot more breathy and needy that you intended it to be. You swear you see his lip twitch into a small smirk at your flustered state, but you know that it could just be your mind tricking you. What you’re positive you hear though, is a soft moan falling from his lips, just barely loud enough for you to hear it, when he pulls the blankets away from your body and takes in the sight of your bare breasts.
Neither of you speak from then as he moves to hover over you, pressing his chest against yours, his lips dangerously close to your own. Nothing needs to be said. It’s like in this moment, years on longing and need have all been disclosed wordlessly. It feels like the world around you has disappeared and it’s just you and him. You’re not on a set with small excuses of cloth covering your most intimate parts. There aren’t two people waiting impatiently for you to be ready to film this moment. It’s just him and you and a love so palpable you can hear it in the comfortable silence that fills the space between you. But then the director is asking if you’re ready for them to begin and you’re saying yes and you’re brought back to the reality of where you are and what you’re doing.
The director calls action, and you fall into the motion that’s required of the scene. Chris’ hand reaches up gently to stroke your face, your cheeks burning under his intense stare and when you let out a soft whimper, he pulls you in for a gentle kiss. It’s tentative, testing the waters before he grows more feverish in his actions. It feels so natural to be under him like this, to have his weight pressing you into the mattress as he holds you in such an intimate way. It feels like you were always meant to be with him like this, and you let that passion drive you as you slide a hand between your two bodies, pretending to free his cock from his non-existent boxers before acting out the motion of guiding him inside you, gasping softly as he pretends to slip inside with a low groan.
You can’t help the way that the thought of him being inside you makes you feel, heat beginning to pool in your core as you grasp at his muscles, urging him to move. When he curls his hips against you, groaning as if he were balls deep inside you, you feel the distinct prod of his rock hard cock straining against your thigh. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you bring him closer to you, his cock resting over your soaked core as you look at him with a gaze that communicates everything you can’t say right now.
Your entirely lost again, spinning in the haze that is being the centre of Chris’ attention, and this time when the director speaks you barely even acknowledge them. You reluctantly separate from Chris, watching as the other two people leave the room to allow you privacy to redress. You turn to him as soon as the two of you are alone, still in the bed covered by the thin sheet, Chris immediately reaches for you, drawing you into a bruising kiss that leaves you breathless and needy for more. His kiss is completely different from how he kissed you on camera. Its needy and passionate and filthy as his tongue slips into your mouth and he pulls you flush against him. You feel his hard cock rubbing up against you again, and this time when you hook your thighs around his, you grind against him purposefully, desperate to feel him as close to your body as possible.
“Fuck, you’re gonna kill me darlin’,” he chuckles, a low moan leaving his lips as you continue to grind down against him, “Could feel how wet you are when we were filming. Absolutely soaked my cock.”
You try to avert his gaze as embarrassment washes over you at the realisation that maybe you hadn’t been discreet with your needs and feelings as you’d thought you were. But Chris is quick to hook his fingers under your chin, gently coaxing your eyes back to meet his and pulling you in for a soft kiss.
“No need to get embarrassed, I like knowin’ that I make you feel good,” he voice is low as he kisses his way along your jaw, slowly trailing kisses down your neck until he finds your sweet spot, pulling away from you as soon as you let out a gasp at the feeling, “Do you want this, darlin’?”
“Fuck yes, want you so bad,” you beg, trying to pull him back down to you, whining when he instead moves to hop out of the bed, reaching for his robe and handing you yours.
“Can’t do this here baby, need to make sure we don’t get caught,” he smirks, winking at you as he slips the robe on, adjusting it so that his bulge isn’t visible through the fabric before heading for the door, “Meet me in my trailer in 10 minutes.”
You knock on his trailer door softly, not wanting to just walk right into his trailer in case he’d had someone come to see him in the last 10 minutes. It was very common for makeup and hair to pop in for touch-ups randomly throughout the day, and the last thing you wanted was to explain to your makeup artist why you were in your co-star’s trailer wearing a robe and nothing underneath.
Chris is quick to open the door. He’s been waiting eagerly for the last 10 minutes, a little worried that maybe you regretted saying you’d meet him and you had changed your mind. He couldn’t describe the way that seeing you in the doorway of his trailer made his heart beat out of his chest. He had wanted this for so long, had wanted you to be his for so long, and now you were here with him, and he could hold you and kiss you just like he had always dreamed of.
Neither of you speak as he opens the door and steps aside for you to enter his trailer. It’s a small trailer compared to some of the others he’s had for other projects, but it’s just big enough to fit a couch and a little kitchen and a bed at the far end through a small curtain which he left drawn open. He could see the way that your eyes lingered on the mattress at the end of the trailer and he immediately breaks the silence between you.
“Darlin’ you know you don’t have to do anything you don’t want t-“ he hasn’t even finished his sentence before your lips are on his, kissing him with a fiery passion that has him melting in your touch in seconds.
“Fuck me,” you gasp, your words soft and you giggle as Chris looks at you with wide eyes, almost like he can’t believe that this is happening, “Please, Chris, need you to fuck me.”
That’s all it takes for him to let his desire take over. His hands hook under your thighs, prompting you to jump into his arms and when you do he carries you down the small hallway to the bedroom. You can’t help the small yelp of surprise that escapes you when your back collides with the soft bed, watching with bated breath as Chris crawls onto the bed until he’s hovering over you for the second time today. But this time is how you’ve always imagined it. No acting, no characters to play or script to follow. Just you and him and a small bedroom for the two of you to explore each other’s bodies for the first time.
His touch is soft as his fingers explore your curves, mapping out each inch of your skin as if he were trying to commit it to memory. Questioning eyes meet yours as his fingers dance along the line of your very thin panties you had been wearing during your scene together, already soaked with your arousal. At your permission, they’re ripped from your body almost instantaneously, disappearing to some corner of the room where you’ll have to search for them later. But right now you couldn’t care less about their whereabouts. Your robes long discarded, his boxers now sliding down his legs, all you could think about was the burning need in your core to have him inside you.
You can’t help the gasp that leaves your lips at the sight of his cock. You had known from earlier than he was big, but seeing him rock hard in front of you had you questioning whether he’d fit inside of you. He was significantly bigger than anyone else you’ve ever been with, and your nerves must have shown on your face as he uses his thumb and forefinger to draw your chin up until your gazes meet.
“No need to worry baby, we’ll go nice and slow,” he coos, his hands gently rubbing soothing circles on your hips to relax you, “Can I have a taste of this pretty little pussy, darlin’?”
You were sure your brain short circuited for a short second at his question, and he chuckles as you whimper out a needy, ‘yes please’, too overwhelmed to say much more.
His lips begin to descend down your body, kissing every inch of skin in his path from your lips to your core. He stops whenever you let out a particularly high pitched moan or whimper, paying extra attention to those places that make you weak for him. You’ve never felt like this before. So wanted and cared for, and you’ve certainly never known pleasure this strong without him even touching you where you need him most yet.
He takes his time teasing you, kissing along the inside of each of your thighs, stopping to let his breath fan over your soaked core. Pressing kisses dangerously close to the top of your mound, all the while never breaking eye contact with you, desperate to see you needy for his touch.
“Please,” you beg, trying to grind your hips upwards in search of some friction but his hands are quick to pin you to the bed.
He doesn’t deny you for much longer, growing impatient himself with the need to taste you. He’s dreamed of this moment more times that he could count, but nothing could prepare him for the sweet taste that overwhelms his senses as he drags his tongue along the cut of you. You’re not sure who groans louder at the first touch, both of you absolutely delirious with pleasure as something snaps in him. He’s been waiting for this moment for so long, and now that he has you in his bed, his head between your gorgeous thighs, your mouth hung open in pleasure as your head falls back against his pillow, he wants to make you cum until the only word you remember is his name.
He eats you out like a man starved, dipping his tongue into your entrance before using your wetness to glide his tongue around your clit. When he sucks your swollen bud into his mouth, you feel as though your soul could leave your body as your back bows off the bed in an attempt to escape some of the intense pleasure he’s giving you, but there is no relief. His mouth is like heaven, taking you apart in the most sinful of ways as a deep burning begins to grow in your belly.
“Chris,” you moan out to warn him, thighs shaking against his shoulders as your hand finds its way into his hair, tugging at his brunette locks and eliciting a deep growl of pleasure that curls through your body and sends you hurtling towards the edge, “Gonna cum!”
“You gonna cum for me baby?” he looks up at the sight of you in his bed, writhing and lost in your pleasure as one of his hands leaves your hips to find new purchase between your thighs. The moan you let out as he pushes a single digit inside of you is nothing short of pornographic, and he wishes for nothing more than to be able to draw that beautiful sound from you again and again, “Cum all over my fingers, darlin’. I’ve got you.”
He introduces a second finger inside you without warning, curling them up to brush his fingertips against that sweet spot inside you that has you crying out for more, and when his thumb reaches up to brush over your clit, you’re a goner. His fingers ride you through your high, his hand on your hip loosening its grip to allow you to grind on his fingers to prolong your orgasm as you soak his hand in your release. He doesn’t pull away until he’s sure you’ve had enough, slowly withdrawing his fingers from your sensitive pussy and bringing them to his lips.
“Fuck,” he moans around his own fingers, the sight making you clench around nothing as you watch him clean your release from his soaked digits, “You taste so fucking good, darlin’.”
“Can I have a taste?” you ask teasingly, a grin rising to your lips as he growls at your question, crushing his lips to yours in a bruising kiss as you taste yourself on his lips.
You reach between the two of you, much like you had in the scene you had filmed earlier, except it was so much more exciting now for the fact that you actually got to wrap your fingers around Chris’ aching hard cock. He was so hard that it looked almost painful, the tip an angry red and leaking precum, desperate for your touch. You swiped your thumb over the tip of him, watching the way his eyes close in pleasure before taking your hand away from his aching member.
He whines at the loss, his eyes opening to see why you stopped and he’s greeted by the sight of you taking your own fingers into your mouth, tasting the precum you had collected on your fingers as you look up at him with innocent eyes. You knew exactly what you were doing, riling him up until he couldn’t take anymore. But that was exactly what you wanted, and he thought your teasing was fucking gorgeous.
He reaches down and grasps at his cock, hissing softly at the contact as he brings himself to your entrance. Forehead resting against yours, his gaze locks with your own as he slowly pushes forward.
The feeling of him slowly pushing into you is unlike anything you’ve ever known before. The stretch of him is on the pleasurable side of unbearable, your walls barely able to accommodate him. His movements are slow, softly rocking his hips into yours until he bottoms out, stilling once he’s seated deep inside you to wait for you to adjust to his size.
It takes a moment, but once the discomfort begins to subside and pleasure begins to take control, you slowly grind your hips against his, moaning softly as his cock shifts inside you, your silent plea for him to move.
The first grind of his hips is soft, gentle as he barely pulls out of your tight heat before plunging back into your warmth and grinding his hips to stay deep. You feel like heaven wrapped around his cock, squeezing him so deliciously as the tip of his cock reaches places inside of you that you had never been able to reach on your own.
“Fuck baby, you’re so fucking tight,” his voice is strained as he tries to refrain from cumming, wanting to send you over the edge before he cares about his own pleasure, “Takin’ my cock so good, it’s like this little pussy was just made for me.”
“Oh god!” you moan, your head tilting back against the pillows as he begins to move a little faster, plunging into you with slow, deep strokes that caress your most intimate spots in every way that drove you crazy with pleasure, “Please don’t stop, feels so fucking good.”
“Yeah? Does my big cock feel good in your tiny little pussy?” he teases, smirking when you clench down hard around him at your question, “This is my little pussy now, isn’t it? Tell me you’re mine.”
“S’yours, I’m all yours,” you moan a little too loudly, probably loud enough for anyone walking past Chris’ trailer to know exactly what was going on inside, but you were both too lost in your pleasure to care much about that little fact as the coil in your core begins to wound itself tight once more.
“Fuck, want you to cum for me darlin’, want you to fuckin’ soak my cock,” he begs, his hips losing their rhythm as his own high builds. His hips are curling into you just right and when he rocks into you nice and deep, grinding deliciously against your clit with his pelvis, you shatter with a loud sob of his name.
Chris’ high follows yours only moments later, the intensity of your orgasm milking his cock as he thrusts in deep and spills rope after rope of his warm release inside you. The air is filled with the sound of both of you trying to catch your breath, the scent of sex hanging heavily all around you as he pulls you into a soft kiss. His lips are gentle against yours, sweet as he smiles into the kiss, in absolute awe of the fact that after all this time you’re finally in his arms, in his bed.
There are a million thoughts running through your mind as you come down from your high, your post-orgasmic bliss leaving you in a dreamy haze as you try and think of the words to say to him. He seems to know exactly what you’re thinking. He always does. He’s so in touch with your mind and your body that it makes butterflies form in your tummy when he cups your cheek in his hand, gently stroking your soft skin.
“We can talk later,” he promises, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead in reassurance before rolling the two of you on your sides, wrapping you tightly in his embrace as you snuggle into his toned chest, beginning to feel the effects of sleep take over your consciousness, “Just rest for now, I’ll be right here when you wake up.”
Chris listens to the sound of your breathing evening out as sleep approaches him too. Curled up in your arms, he falls asleep easily, dreaming of what you might say when he asks you to dinner after the two of you wake up.
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shame and fortune
It’s done! An idea that would not leave my head for days and it’s a one-shot and not a series. It’s... a ride. I’ll say that much.
Ransom Drysdale x Female Reader and Soft Dark! Ari Levinson x Female Reader
Word Count: 12K
Warnings: 18+ ONLY. This is a dark fic. Language, gaslighting, assault, cheating (both potential and actual), dub-con oral sex (m receiving), unprotected sex, mentions of drug use, stalking, anal play, non-con to dub-con sex, referenced murder, white collar crime, voyeurism, sex tapes.
Please read the warnings and proceed with caution.
Summary | Against your better judgement, you embark on a secret relationship with businessman Ari Levinson after attempts to leave your long suffering relationship with Ransom Drysdale falls flat, giving you little options until your worlds collide.
“You gotta stop looking at your phone.”
A pair of brown eyes move from the phone in your hands and down to the table, another silent urge to get you to loosen up.
“He doesn’t like when I don’t answer him right away.” Your voice is slightly mumbled by the way your hand is propped up against your mouth, your cashmere sweater hanging over your fingers while you swipe over to your messages. There’s nothing for now but that doesn’t mean he won’t send you something to check in.
It could be laughable if you didn’t know where he was. He’s at a bachelor party halfway across town, your nerves slightly jostled at who the party is thrown for. His best friend isn’t known for his loyalty and you’re almost certain that he’ll come home smelling like some exotic dancer, even if he told you to relax, that you were overreacting before he even got out of the house. The texting was a way to check in, to ease your mind that had no off button when it came to him.
But dating Ransom Drysdale was another situation altogether. He came from money – you didn’t. Dating someone like him meant always being on the cusp of nervousness. You over analyzed how he would stare during your first few dates, looking at the material of your clothes with a curious eye. And why wouldn’t he? Someone like him who was accustomed to the finer things in life since he was born knew the difference between cotton and rayon. Thankfully he never said a word but you could feel it, somewhere in his stare when his eyes would wash over you that maybe he thought he could do better, even if he never said a word. That is what you made you take his calls, replying to every text because you wanted to be worthy, even if you knew that maybe he wasn’t.
A soft hand pulls your phone down, your best friend giving you a gentle smile.
“He’s having fun. So should you.”
“Rochelle,” your tone sheepish while you sip your drink. “I am. I’m having fun.”
“Oh, I’m sure. A blast,” she replies sarcastically with a laugh. “I don’t get to see you anymore. Not like we used to. I was thinking that maybe in a few weeks or so, you could come to New York, stay with me for a bit.”
Nibbling on your lip, you already know Ransom won’t like it. As much as he enjoys his personal time, he usually prefers to have you close. He told you it was a comfort thing. Most people annoyed him and you were one of the few that didn’t, as he told you time and time again when you would try to make an excuse to leave when he’d return from Harlan’s compound, ranting about his family and how much he loathed them.
“Yeah. That sounds good.”
She tosses her napkin at you, hitting you in the chest.
“Liar. You said you’d come and visit two months ago.”
To prove your hopeful point, you hold out your hand, pinky extended. Her own hooks it around it to seal the deal, her smile wide in approval.
“Alright, alright,” she relents. “Pinky promises are serious business. We’ll start planning in a bit.”
Ransom is pouring himself a drink when you finally reach the bottom of the stairs. It’s still dark, not a single light on while you search for the light switch. You should be happy to see him, his usual tamed hair slightly tousled.
“Thought you’d be asleep. Leave the lights off, I have a migraine.” He orders it tersely, taking a long sip. The glass clinks against the counter, Ransom shrugging off his coat that he tosses over the couch. He’s drunk. You can smell on his breath. Along with the cologne and the soft scent of perfume that makes you reel back.
“Did you have a good time?”
He scoffs at your question, finishing the rest of his drink before he clicks his tongue.
Your heart slightly races when you get closer, an accusation on your tongue. You know you shouldn’t. It’s not the right time, not with Ransom in this state but your fears take hold and you can’t stop yourself.
“You smell like a woman.”
Ransom laughs darkly, his body turning in your direction. His glare sends a slight shiver down your back.
“Why don’t you say what you really want to say?”
“I don’t want to fight.”
Knowing you’ve already started on that course, your mouth closes, rubbing your forearms when you glance back up the stairs. You can sleep this off. Tell him your feelings and go to bed. At least it would be off your mind.
“A little too late for that, don’t you think? Say it.”
He’s taunting you, taking a step toward you as you back up.
“I already said it.”
“No, you implied it. You think I cheated on you?”
Ransom’s jaw tightens at the shake of your head, your socks sliding against the hardwood to turn away from him. He grabs your arm, pulling you toward him roughly. You squeak in surprise when your body makes contact with his.
“I asked you a question.”
He smirks, looking away from you for a moment as he inhales, his grip still on you.
There’s nothing to unpack in his statement. It’s a quick denial with a curious inquiry, his eyebrow arching while he waits for your reply. The closer you get, the stronger the smell. Your mind flips and flops with the possibilities and you know that you don’t want to have this conversation or even entertain it. You feel it, knowing that you can’t do this anymore.
“Let me go.”
“Answer me first. You want to come down here, accuse me of something and then you don’t want to answer? That’s not how this works and you know it.”
“No.” You try to pull away but his fingers sink down into your skin even harder. “We’re over.”
Perfect, white teeth flash before you as he laughs again, the dark sound echoing slightly.
“Where are you going to go? Back home with your parents? In that shoebox of an apartment they can barely pay for? You can’t even afford the plane ticket home. No.” Ransom shakes his head slowly, as if you’re stupid for even trying to suggest that you could break up with him. “You aren’t leaving me.”
He lets you go, placing his hands on his hips while his teeth drag on his lower lip before he inhales sharply.
“Not another word about it. You’re going to go upstairs, get to bed and not ask me that question ever again.”
There isn’t a threat attached to his order but it sparks that same fear that you had before, sitting at the bar with Rochelle that makes you fall silent. You end up complying, reaching for the banister when he calls your name. You stop, the warmth of his body at your back.
“You’re my world. Start acting like it.”
The idea is born at the dinner table, Linda’s piercing gaze on your chipped nail polish when you reach for your wine glass.
“There’s this new nail salon that just opened up. Brand new machines, I hear.”
Downing a gulp of red wine, your fingers retract into your cardigan, Ransom giving his mother a death glare before that stare, that one of disapproval when he looks at your clothes, returns for just a moment before it disappears. But you feel it just the same before Meg rolls her eyes. She’s used to the comments, the little barbs that Linda hurls in her own direction. But Meg is family.
When dinner is finished and the table cleared, you help Fran with the dishes even after she tries to shoo you away from the kitchen. You like Fran. She’s funny and sweet, personable when the rest of them aren’t, providing some assurance that Ransom, as horrible as he can be, seems to be calmer when you’re around and you like that, knowing you have that effect on him.
“I’m sorry about Linda.” A water gently sloshes as she scrubs an expensive plate with thick yellow gloves that go up to her elbows. “She’s a piece of work. I can’t say don’t let her get to you because sometimes she even gets to me. She knows the right places to hit you where it hurts. Rich people.”
There’s a shake of her head, a wry smile that appears and disappears quickly before she clears her throat.
“We’re almost done. Which, thank God because I have a date and I need to get out of this goddamn house.”
Your eyes flutter up to Fran at her news.
“Oh, yeah. This new app. I don’t want anyone knowing who I work for. Easy target, you know? But yeah, a date. We’ve been talking a little. It’s been nice.”
Drying a plate, you busy yourself with opening the cabinet, placing it inside before you pause.
“New app? What’s the name?”
Fran rattles off the name as she keeps talking about her date while you nod along, drying more plates until you hear Ransom’s footsteps.
“Ready when you are.”
Sliding the last plate on top of the others, you feel his eyes on your back when you close the cabinet.
The only goodbye you issue with a hint of warmth is to Harlan, who takes your hands in his and gives him a squeeze, like he always does. It’s a comfort, something that you look forward to. A tradition of sorts before you finally leave.
Ransom’s hand holds yours tight, your footsteps quickening to keep up with him as he inhales a deep breath of the cool summer air when he gets outside. Weeks have passed since you tried to break up with him and he’s been careful to not let you out of his sight, except when you go to work and even then, he’s checking up on you, playing the role of doting boyfriend. Tonight is no different, stopping at his car before his large warm hands cup your cheeks, tilting your head so that you look at him.
“A little quiet at dinner. You still thinkin’ of leaving me?”
His thumb brushes against the top of your cheeks, blue eyes piercing into yours.
He leans in to kiss you, hard and demanding, pulling back before tapping your cheeks. Like you’ve pleased him with your answer. But he already knows the truth. You can tell by the smirk on his lips.
It’s late when you pull your phone from the nightstand, Ransom’s light snores indicating he’s in a deep sleep. Hiding it under the heavy blanket to shield the light, you download the app that Fran went on about. Even though you know you shouldn’t, the curiosity gets the better of you while you silently submit your email and create an account, using a fake name that you used to use when you hated your real one. The picture you upload is one of nothing but your back looking out at the Hudson River sunset, taken by Rochelle on an impromptu trip to NYC where she was scouting out places to live. With the idea that no one will ever see it, you’re far wittier than you would ever be, poking fun at yourself in your bio and saving it. There’s no way you expect anyone to slide into your messages, not with the lack of your face in the photo and self-depreciating profile.
You aren’t prepared the next morning when you wake, your alarm chirping and vibrating underneath you. With a yawn, silencing the phone also brings up five notifications from the app you downloaded, blinking rapidly to make sure you can read it right. Ransom is long gone, up for his early run and you’re free to read through the messages while your heart slows down.
The first three are what you suspected, asking for a local hookup and nudes, which you promptly block with a roll of your eyes. The fourth is a welcome bot and under that, is one that simply says ‘Good Morning’. No fancy discourse but simple enough to make you click on the profile.
The man in the picture has long brown hair, eyes hidden under a pair of dark aviators, his muscles all but bulging out of his button down shirt.
“Ari Levinson.” His name sounds nice on your lips.
He’s handsome, mysterious in a way that makes you scroll through more of his photos. He’s an outdoorsman, something you don’t do in your spare time but he also likes to travel, judging by his various photos in different locales. He definitely seems interesting but you know better, that nagging voice in the back your head telling you that you’d had your fun and that you need to leave it alone. You’re still with Ransom and you aren’t the cheating type.
Tossing the phone on the bed, you pad into the bathroom, washing away any thoughts of replying to his message. You can’t do that, even if you’re certain that one upon a time, Ransom had kept up his own dating profile before he’d decidedly deleted it the moment you’d gone ‘official’, when you’d thought you’d been officially his girlfriend for over three months.
By the time you’re finished in the bathroom, pulling on your work pants when you hear the door slam downstairs, Ransom’s heavy steps approaching while you finish buttoning up your shirt.
“You work today?”
He shouldn’t be surprised. With an event looming ever closer, you’ve had to work double time, which means an extra Saturday two times a month. You’ve told him, even texting him as a reminder but he’s still shocked all the same, wiping the sweat from his forehead with his shirt.
“Yeah. I told you, remember?”
Ransom isn’t pleased with your reminder. Even if he knew about it, you know that it doesn’t matter. He’s used to getting what he wants.
“I know. It’s the second Saturday that I work.”
“We had plans.”
Ransom places his hands on his hips at your confused stare.
“Harlan’s having a barbeque, remember? You can’t go in.”
You reach for your purse, not wanting to risk another argument that you can tell is looming over the horizon.
“I have to, Ransom. It’s only for a little. I can head over there as soon as I’m done. I promise.”
His silence only urges you to get away from him quickly, moving toward the door until he blocks it.
There’s nowhere you can go, his large frame filling out the doorway.
“Do you want to make me repeat myself? I need you there.”
“And I said I would be there once I get off work.”
His tongue rolls over his teeth, nodding in response while he eyes your purse.
“Call your boss. Tell her you can’t go in.”
“Ransom, I can’t. We’ve all been putting in extra hours -”
“Like I give a shit about that. I’ll pay you for the day you miss. Call her and tell her you aren’t coming in.”
Gripping the strap of your purse, your head bows when you clear your throat, trying your best to sound assertive.
His eyebrow arches at your denial.
“No? What do you mean, no?”
“I-I have to.”
Ransom’s stare lingers longer than it should before he gives you a slight nod of his head.
“Fine. Suit yourself.”
He moves away from the door, giving you enough room to pass. Once you pass him, you hear him inhale.
“Once you walk out that door, you’ll regret it.”
Stopping in your tracks, you turn your head to look back at him. It would be a chance that you had to take.
“I said I’d be at the barbeque after. I promise, Ransom.”
He doesn’t answer you as you continue down the stairs and toward the door.
The sigh of relief you give when you’re away from him only fuels your willingness to answer Ari’s message, sending him a greeting in reply before you shove your phone into your purse and head toward your car.
Ransom doesn’t answer your calls or your texts throughout the day. Which is to be expected, you know he’s throwing a proverbial tantrum that you ignored his command for you to stay home. As much as his silence unnerves you, an unexpected conversation with Ari brightens your day, even if it’s brief and still professionally casual to a point. You kept it polite, not revealing yourself while you chatted about his job and yours. He’s a businessman but doesn’t reveal much else, except to tell you that the job he does is more executive level. He seems interested in what you have to say, more so than Ransom does and you found yourself trailing off when you realize that anything else you could say would delve into your personal life. It isn’t fair to compare the two and you still feel the guilt of talking to someone who isn’t him.
By the time you park at Harlan’s compound, you realize you don’t see Ransom’s car. Meg is outside, smoking a fat blunt when she sees you exiting, the acrid smell of an open flame burning in your nose.
“Hey. You came without Ransom.” Meg is just as surprised as you are that he isn’t there, your eyes blinking in surprise.
“He’s not here?”
“No, he said he wasn’t feeling well. At least, that’s what he told Grandad.”
Your phone still has no messages from Ransom, worriedness washing over you as you call him. He picks up on the fourth ring, waiting for you to say something.
“Ransom? Are you okay?”
“Depends on who’s asking. Where are you?”
“Harlan’s. Like I said I would.” Your eyes look up at Harlan’s foreboding estate, Meg blowing out a line of smoke between her parted ruby red lips.
Meg eyes you curiously when you let out a soft sigh. You know you were headed that way but it feels like an extra layer of control when he tells you to do it.
“Leaving so soon?” Meg looks up at an open window, Joanie frowning at the blunt in her hand while she waves to you, her mouth transforming into a kind smile.
“He said he’s still not feeling well.” You don’t have to lie for him but it’s become commonplace these days, especially to keep the peace between him and his family. The only one you know that Ransom will never lie to is Harlan, the two of them cut from the same cloth, in both mannerisms and how they handle their family, even if Harlan is kinder when he doesn’t need to be.
For what it’s worth, Meg gives you a quick hug before you leave. Not that you can tell by his voice alone but he sounds fine, another classic Ransom tantrum where he doesn’t want to be bothered by his family. Which usually, he has you to be his fallback plan, making up an excuse when he’s had enough, either storming out after a fight with Harlan or taunting Joanie and Fran before he strolls out with a smug smile on his face. Only this time he didn’t have you there.
Pulling up to his house, you sit in the car for a moment, the blinds still drawn as if he closed them on purpose when you’d left. They’d been open when you were heading down the stairs earlier in the day. You know that emotionally, you don’t have the strength for another argument, knowing that Ransom may be gearing up for finish what he tried to start, crunching the key in the lock, opening the door to an empty living room.
It’s silent, the living room and kitchen untouched as you walk through, calling his name while you continue through the house and up the stairs, hearing no sound of him. The bedroom door is closed and it’s the first indication that maybe he’s inside when a pair of strong arms yank to toward a wall of muscle, your shriek of surprise tampered down by Ransom’s hand clamping over your mouth.
“I said you’d regret it, didn’t I, gorgeous?” Ransom breathes against the shell of your ear while your heart tries to come down from the high of the shock. “Had to be stubborn.”
His hand grips your wrists behind your back in an awkward hold, his hand still over your mouth as he laughs at your struggle, small pangs of pain shooting through your arms.
“I don’t ask for much, do I?” His hand lifts from your mouth, the chance to inhale a greedy breath a luxury while you inhale, his other hand still holding onto your wrists. “I think I do a good job of taking care of you. All I asked for was one day off.”
“Ransom.” Your voice squeaks when you try to explain, the pain getting stronger when he tilts your arms up higher. “That hurts.”
“Consider it a stretching exercise. Answer my question.”
Mentally, you’re exhausted, unable to even feign anger.
“No. You don’t.”
All things considered, he’s right, in his own way.
He’s never asked you to take his car to the mechanic, pick up his dry cleaning or do anything else that requires you picking up after him. He had others to that for him but even if they weren’t around to do his bidding, you know deep down that he wouldn’t ask you to do it. There was pressure with this privilege, something that he could never understand because he’d been born into it while you were on the outside looking in. Ransom may not ever ask for much but it was implied that you did whatever he wanted. Invisible and unspoken rules that had you previously calling out for days at a time to help him nurse a hangover or pat his forehead with a cold cloth when he got a bad batch of blow that would make him ill. These moments, where you put your personal life on the shelf to take care of him, was because it was something you were ingrained to do since you’d embarked on a relationship with him.
“I thought so. I think you should make it up to me.”
He lets your wrists go, the pain dulling to a small throb when you turn your body to face him. His hand is already at his belt, unbuckling it as the clink of the buckle hits, his handsome face waiting impatiently for you to sink to your knees.
“Tired?” His question is more a taunt than an actual inquiry, getting to your knees as your purse slides down your shoulder and thuds softly onto the floor. Time seems to slow in this moment, the soft burr of the zipper of his pants provoking an almost Pavlovian response, your hands reaching for his opened pants, tugging down the Armani boxer briefs as his cock springs out, long and thick that makes your mouth water in response. You prefer the comfort and the odd safety of your shared bedroom than out in the darkened hallway. In some odd way you’d feel more protected. This feels more shameful, more debauched while you open your mouth as he sinks down onto your tongue, muffling your breath.
“Fuck.” Ransom’s head goes back slightly, his hand on top of your head that you know will find its way behind, holding you there until you’re gagging and a crying mess.
He pulls out just enough for you to lick the crown, and the underside of his cock like he taught you so long ago, eyes up and looking at him and only him as he smirks.
“The mouth on you is one my favorite things about you. Especially when it’s full of me.”
He slides back down your throat, gentle in a way that won’t last too long, your throat constricting against him as you gag, tears brimming in your eyes at the sensation before the loud, wet pop of him leaving your lips gives you a chance to breathe. You already can feel the wetness in your panties, knowing that you won’t get any relief from him tonight. Not after his promise that you would regret it.
His hand caresses your face, fingertips skimming across the wetness of your cheek.
“Good. Now finish me off.”
It’s messy, the sound of your wet lips working over his cock that dips in and out of your throat, saliva pooling down the creases of your mouth while your hands grip at his pants, swallowing him to the root when he rests you against him for a moment.
“All you had to do was just listen. Then I wouldn’t have had to ruin that pretty face. Just be good for me. That’s all I ask.”
A few moments later and his hand cups the back of your head, tilting you up just right as you can feel his balls contract against your chin, right before he cums, ropes of salty cum filling your throat and mouth, his fingers bruising your scalp as he grunts, breathing hard through his clenched teeth before he gives his command.
“Every last drop.”
He means it, pulling out enough to let you swallow, your fingers sliding against the seams of your mouth to push what dribbled down back in, licking your lips to make sure you got it all. You clean him off, swallowing what’s left before he adjusts himself back into his boxers and zips up his pants, buckling his belt and inhaling.
“That’s better. Go change and we’ll figure out dinner.”
The TV casts a light on your face when your phone vibrates. Ransom is deep into a serial killer documentary, not even looking in your direction when you pick up your phone. The banner notification appears and disappears in a few seconds, your eyes focused on the name.
You shouldn’t look at it. It’s been hours since you communicated and even then, it wasn’t anything major but your curiosity gets the better of you, typing in your password and pretending you’re checking out the weather with a calm expression on your face.
This is going to sound a little forward but I think we’ve reached the end of social media niceties. I’d like to meet you, if you’d allow. Address is below. It’s a masquerade bar so bring a mask if you like. Figured it would be easier if you ended up not liking what you saw.
The date is four days away, the address underneath his reply.
Ransom scoffs at a detective on the screen, poking inside his take out box with a pair of chopsticks.
“So off the mark.” Ransom’s voice is filled with authority, as if he already knows the ending of the documentary and it’s only fifteen minutes in.
The date Ari coincides with Ransom’s country club visit. He never misses a chance to go and he knows that it isn’t your scene. You’re on the precipice, fingers hovering over the letters when you look over at Ransom. Still engrossed in his show, chewing silently on a piece of chicken without even looking your way.
You’ve told yourself over and over that you love him. You can even pinpoint when. New Year’s Eve in this same house, on this same couch where Ransom was carefree. His parents were in Aspen and he was helping Harlan as his editorial assistant. He was also slightly drunk, lips sliding over yours as he promised to have a better relationship with you.
“Not gonna be like my asshole parents.” Ransom’s eyes were half lidded, his hands against your face as you saw the glassines, a new sense of depth, in his eyes. “You’re the only good thing in this world. In my world.”
And that’s what you had wanted to be. Until Walt had pushed his way back into Harlan’s good graces, reminding him that Ransom was and would always be a thorn in his side, still on his designer drugs and willingness to cause havoc at family gatherings – painting him once again as someone who couldn’t be trusted. Just a trust fund prick with an entitled attitude. Harlan, tired of the prodding, gave Walt his way. When his parents came back from their vacation, the dinners and social events skyrocketed again and Ransom got meaner, knowing that his only meal ticket was to play the part to continue to make sure the money never stopped flowing.
But Ransom, he loved you. Loved, as in past tense, something you would ask yourself at different times of day. Love, in the present, meant showing up to lunches and dinners on time, watching him slide his matte black credit card over the table. It materialized in expensive gifts and under that, somewhere in between sleep and awake, the gentle touches that you could feel down your back, the heavy silence where you’d wait for him to say it back. Then you remember his words from three weeks ago, when you’d asked him why he was so hesitant to say it.
“I show you all the time. I don’t need to say the words, do I?”
Your reply to Ari is quick, placing the phone back onto the arm of the couch and forcing yourself to pay attention, even as Ransom snatches a piece of beef from your carton.
The days fly by, right into the weekend when Ransom pulls on his coat, not looking back while you stand on the last step.
“Back late tonight. Don’t wait up.”
The door closes before you have a chance to say another word. If it’s his usual afternoon, he’ll hang out there until he and his friends take their outing to a bar, where Ransom will come home like you saw him a week ago, glassy eyed with a dangerous smile where you found yourself under him, begging for him to give you a reprieve as he took you apart without stopping.
But it doesn’t matter. Tonight, you’ll head over to the upscale bar that is by password only, your black cocktail dress in the closet while you wait for Ransom to leave, watching the car speed past the window.
It’s a slow walk back up the stairs, showering, shaving your legs and sliding your hands up to make sure you didn’t miss a spot. It’s a weird feeling. Knowing you want to impress someone, even if you know deep down they should try to impress you. That anticipation of the unknown, to be in a place you’ve never been, makes you nervous. It’s the reason why you fired off a text to Rochelle, making a slight joke that if you don’t return then that is the place she should look. You don’t tell her that you’re going alone – to meet someone else that isn’t Ransom.
The dress fits, almost a little too much when you finish zipping it up. Your tits look fantastic, your mouth dipping into an appreciative smile when you bounce on the tip of your toes for a moment. The mask you bought isn’t anything special, black with just enough sparkle for an allure that it doesn’t look like you bought it at an elementary school craft fair, two black feathers adorned near the top. It feels silly, knowing that your entire face still isn’t covered but enough for there to be a mysteriousness that you can appreciate, knowing the situation you are about to place yourself in.
Slipping on your heels and grabbing your bag, you give yourself a once over in the mirror, a silent pep talk to your body and mind that you have to take this chance and to not do anything stupid.
Relief floods through you at the sight of other people donning their masks and laughing while you’re perched at a high top, nursing a gin and tonic while you pretend that you belong. You aren’t used to this. You’re always with Ransom and when you aren’t, you’re home. Scrolling through your phone to keep yourself busy, you frown at the surveillance sticker the bouncer had you place on your phone for both the front and back facing camera. You knew it was exclusive, this underground bar with the crystal chandeliers, white glove service and a dress code but you bemoaned the loss of being able to share a picture with Rochelle, the place carefully designed that it made you feel like you’d stepped fully into a masquerade ball.
By the time you finish your drink, a white gloved hand comes to take it away as a man passes by.
“What were you having?” The waiter is not the same one who assisted you prior.
“Oh, a gin and tonic.”
“I’ll have the same. Put it on my tab.” The man that you thought was passing by has paused, his black mask covering his blue eyes with streaks of dark silver etched into the mask. He’s big, his white shirt hugging against his broad chest and biceps. His long brown hair is tousled, hanging over his forehead, his full beard carefully trimmed while his gaze settles on you.
You don’t want to assume that this man is Ari. It would be too much of a coincidence, being here this early and already meeting him. He isn’t the only one who has a beard and blue eyes. You counted at least six others who could be him.
There’s no chance for you to decline the drink, the waiter already gone while the man gives you a smile.
“Is it that obvious?” You already cringe at the question. “That’s what I get for getting a mask off of Amazon.”
He laughs, a deep sound that you decide you like.
“The mask is fine. No one really sits at the high tops. They usually like to linger around.”
The explanation makes sense. You were the only one sitting here.
“Do you want to have a seat?” Your question is less about being polite than having people standing up and talking to you but he seems like the type that is comfortable in his own skin, blissfully unaware of your little idiosyncrasies.
He pulls out the chair and settles in, extending his hand to yours.
“For what it’s worth with the mystery, it’s nice to meet you.”
His touch is warm, lingering just a few seconds longer than usual that has your face heating up before he lets go.
“I was supposed to meet someone.” You want to curse out your brain for volunteering that information, immediately closing your mouth after.
“Here? I guess this is a good place. But I don’t want to interrupt your potential date.”
“It’s alright.” Your denial is swift, unsure of why you don’t want him to go. It feels safe to have another stranger across from you, a comfortable conversation that you haven’t been able to carry on with anyone who isn’t Ransom in weeks. “I think he would have been here by now. I’m not worried.”
“Positive. And if he does come then I’ll excuse myself and he’ll apologize for being late and not telling me.”
The man gives an approving nod and a smile, flashing perfectly white teeth before the drinks are placed in front of you both. He lifts his drink in the air as you follow suit.
“To your date then. Wherever he is.”
Your glasses clink lightly before you take a sip, nervously checking your app before you finally place it on the table.
“So.” The man leans back in his chair, the look he gives you making you shiver. “Tell me about yourself.”
And you do. Without any details, you tell him you love your job, demanding and rewarding in its own ways, giving enough explanation of it that you can feel the passion coming off your tongue.
And he listens. Not the short nods that usually means you trail off, catching onto the hint that Ransom has stopped listening and wants you to change the subject. But there are follow up questions, interjections of an opinion that make your heart soar in response. His job is international, citing places he’s been that you could only dream of. None of them match Ari’s profile photos, the ones you’re thinking of in your head as he speaks.
This man asks about who you are as a person, your hopes and dreams and what you want to accomplish in the next two to three years. And you tell him, this stranger that you’ll never see again, that you want to travel to Ibiza, to try a new food at least once a month and finally go to that yoga class you keep saying you’ll register for but never do.
The vibration of your phone gets your attention, trying to ignore it as it does it twice more until it can’t be ignored.
“Sorry.” Your apology is muted, flipping up your phone to see Ransom’s texts. He’s heading home and he’s drunk, being driven home a friend which means you’ll have to drive him back in the morning to get his car.
“Do you need to go?”
There will be more trouble if you stay. He’ll keep messaging you, calling you until you come home. Your friends know the routine even more than you ever thought they did. This will be no different.
“I think so. Sorry, it’s…” You don’t want to say boyfriend. But that’s exactly who Ransom is and no amount of staying silent about it will help.
But you do it anyway.
“A drunk friend. I should go help them.”
“Absolutely. Did you drive here? I can walk you to your car. Sometimes the people who can’t get in here get a little mouthy when people leave.”
He helps you out of your chair, his hand extended out for you to hold onto as you step off the high chair, his fingers gripping yours for a scant second before you’re back on the ground, keys in hand while he follows behind you like a silent bodyguard.
The air is cool when you get outside, people milling around the front, arguing with the bouncer as they shout the wrong password. The exclusivity of this place is somewhere you think Ransom would go but it isn’t his scene. He likes the higher end places, where there’s a minimum to get in and appearances matter.
Once your car is in sight, you hold back a disappointed sigh at the thought of going home to a drunk Ransom. You could talk to this unnamed man forever it feels like and now it’s ended before you even had a chance.
“This is my stop.” It’s a joke that you can tell falls flat at the silence. “Thanks for walking me to my car.”
“It was my pleasure.”
Your keys clink in your hand, shifting yourself to turn. You’re stalling and you know it. It’s better to end it and be done. Say your goodbye and then delete the app.
“Will it be?”
You force a small smile as his question. It’s like he knows that you’re already going back to misery.
“It could be.”
“Anything I can do to help?”
“I don’t think so.” Not unless he knows how to handle one Ransom Drysdale. Your voice comes out sadder than you expected, trying to already hope that Ransom will just sleep it off when he gets home. “Just nerves.”
You don’t expect his hand to gently caress your face, leaning into his touch almost automatically. You aren’t even sure why you did it. Maybe it’s the fact that it’s someone different or the underlying knowledge of knowing that it feels good to have someone touch you that isn’t going to say something condescending after.
“Sorry.” It’s mumbled, the apology that spills from your lips before you find yourself leaning into him, kissing him just as much as he’s kissing you. It ends far too quickly, your hand still on his shirt before you pull it away. You don’t know who initiated it first but you don’t care. The spark of danger, the sinfulness that it isn’t Ransom on your lips, makes your face heat up in embarrassment that you know what you’ve done is wrong.
“Thanks for a wonderful date tonight.”
You blink at his appreciation, a quick wink from him that has your heart fluttering.
The slow nod puts you at ease, swallowing hard at the thought of everything you’d told him.
“Go tend to your friend, sweetheart. Drive safe. It was a pleasure to finally meet you.”
He waits for you to open the door, sliding into the driver’s seat as he closes it for you. And then he waits to make sure you finally drive away, watching him head toward a waiting car before you turn the corner.
Ransom is sitting on the couch when you enter, the lights off as his head his bowed slightly.
“Ransom? Is everything okay?”
“Harlan’s in the hospital.”
His voice is watery, barely above a whisper as you hear a sniffle. The news and how he’s acting fills you with dread. Harlan is the only family member that Ransom can stand, maybe even love.
“Do we need to go?”
“And be there with them? No. Fuck no. Fuck my family.”
“Ransom.” You try again because you can feel it, that soft sigh at the end where you know he’s hurting but he’s too proud to say it. “Is he okay?”
“It’s a fall. That shitty nurse of his didn’t even see when it happened. Sounds like he’ll be fine.”
“Okay. I’m glad he’ll be alright.”
The closer you get to the couch, the more guilty you feel, his eyes shimmering with tears when he finally looks up at you.
“Where did you go?” It’s an accusation, one that you know you have to answer.
“Out with a friend. I saw your text and I came straight home.”
It’s almost honest. He settles on your dress and your shoes, giving you a long up and down before you sink down onto the couch next to him.
“They’re probably all disappointed. Especially Walt. He’s just waiting for the day…”
His voice sounds strangled at the end and you inhale at his raw emotion. But when you do, you realize it’s a two-fold purpose, trying to temper your own emotions and also to know if you can smell perfume on him again. The latter makes you furious at yourself, knowing what you’ve done only less than an hour prior.
“Don’t think about them.”
“I can’t stop thinking about them. They’re fucking vultures. I can’t even step foot in there because Walt will open his big mouth and try to have me kicked out. My mother won’t want a scene so she’ll agree.” The sigh that leaves his lips is short, with an even shorter shake of his head. “No. Not even worth it.”
“You have a right to be there just as they do. You know that, right?”
“Fuck my family, okay?”
His jaw clenches at the sound of his name, his gaze meeting yours.
“And then there’s you. The one I thought would stick by me at all costs but no, you get one thought in your head and you’re ready to leave. After everything I’ve done for you. For us.”
“That isn’t fair and you know that.” He’s hurting but you know that now that you’re in his line of sight, this conversation won’t be about them anymore.
“You’re still my world. Even when I deal with my shitty family, you’re still the good that’s left. But you just don’t want to see it that way.”
It’s frantic, the way his hands are on you, at your face one moment, his mouth against yours and then down your neck, sucking your skin into his mouth as you know you’ll have bruises later. More than anything, there’s a desperate determination, Ransom lowering you to the couch, your dress being shoved up your hips as your panties are discarded.
“Do you love me?” His question skates against your cheek, the fading smell of alcohol still on his breath. This is the privilege that comes roaring back between your ears, to make him feel better while your mind asks you again and again: do you love him? His fingers slide inside your cunt, the wet sounds mingling with his mouth slanting against yours. You answer the only way you know how.
It’s not gentle when he curls his fingers inside you but it’s the type of pain that winds with the pleasure so well that a moan slips from your lips, almost a whine for him to not stop. When he commits, like he’s doing now, he can take you apart so easily, showing you that he knows your body than maybe you know yourself.
“I-I love you, Ransom.”
The loss of his fingers makes your cunt clench in response, the wetness sliding between your thighs before you hear the sound of his belt. When he lines up with your entrance, his hands are on your hips, eyes boring into yours as he pushes inside, your eyes closing at the stretch, your head moving to the side until he grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him.
“And you’re mine. Say it.” His order rings in your ear as the final movement of him bottoming out inside you makes your head fall back.
“I’m yours.” It’s choked up, his signet ring cool against your cheek.
His pace is rough, something you know is more primal, that dark side of Ransom unearthed when he’s inside you, your slick and swollen walls suctioning his cock as he groans, making him even more feral in his movements. It feels sinful to know he’s fucking your brains out, all of your thoughts out of the window but on Ransom and how good he’s making you feel. In this space, he isn’t the one you tried to leave prior. He’s the one you take care of, bringing him down with your hands to kiss him, to tell him you aren’t going anywhere. It’s said so fervently that you believe it, tears streaming down your face when for a moment, his gaze changes back to the Ransom you once knew, the smile on his face at how he know he’s ruining you in the best way, before he started to tarnish the rest of you.
“We’re better than them.” It’s his promise, even whispered against the shell of your ear before he cums with a hard shudder, makes you realize that you want to believe it.
The interlude of whatever softness was there goes back quickly to the way things were, Harlan back at his compound and contemplating cutting everyone off. Ransom gets an earful for not being there, something that transfers over to you on the ride home from Harlan’s, where you mentally remind yourself that he’s upset and it isn’t at you. The Ransom that you’re used to returns, his eyes washing over you when you leave for work, not returning your good morning when he heads toward the shower, pretending like you don’t exist.
But your conversations with Ari continue, keeping it light.
Until one day, it isn’t.
You stare at him over your coffee cup, steam rising from it as he raises an eyebrow.
You’re on his turf, the small coffee shop only a block away from his office. He’s been trying to meet with you for weeks. Text messages are frequent, good mornings and good nights are standard, bringing a smile to your face on the days you want to cry. The text messages graduated to phone calls, stolen moments when you’re on your break while he asks about your day.
Until now, when the phone calls stopped being enough and he wanted – needed – to see you.
“I have to tell you something.” Despite it all, you know you need to come clean. The attention on you as a person, not a thing to be kept, is more than you could ever ask for but your conscience won’t let you continue this façade.
Ari leans forward and you swallow. You want to commit how he looks to memory when you tell him you can’t do this any longer, even if it’s barely started. His eyes are focused on yours, a twitch in his lips when you place your coffee cup down while you stare at his handsome face.
“I should have been honest with you since day one and I’m sorry I haven’t. I know you’ve wanted more from me but I can’t.” The lump in your throat is filled with regret, resentment and guilt. “I have a boyfriend. I know sorry does not begin to cover it but I can’t do this to him, even if we’re not perfect. I should have told you from the get go but I was being selfish and I… I like you, I do. But I can’t continue this.”
Ari leans back in his chair, his hand sliding down his beard for a moment as he looks off to the side for a moment before his gaze goes back to you.
“Are you happy with him?”
Your eyes slightly widen at his question, staring into your coffee cup. This is where you should say yes. Even if it’s a lie because you can get up and leave. Really leave, this time, like you’ve told yourself you would hundreds of times.
“Hesitation usually isn’t a good sign, sweetheart.”
You resign yourself with a shrug at his comment, not even wanting to finish your coffee. Ari leans forward, his forearms leaning on the small table that makes the coffee in your cup slosh slightly.
“What if I told you if I didn’t care?”
“I don’t know.”
Ari reaches your hand, his thumb gliding over your fingers gently.
“What if I said that I wanted to get out of here, take you back to my place and make sure you’re well taken care of? Even if it’s just for a little bit.”
You know you shouldn’t. Stay no, pick up your purse and go. You can get to your call, call Rochelle and plan your trip. Maybe even stay with her a little longer.
The hesitation to deny him is your undoing.
Little differences color your thoughts.
Ari’s kisses are deeper, almost devouring in nature. He’s strong without being intimidating, like Ransom is when he gives you that stare, like he knows every dark little secret. Both take you apart differently and currently, Ari is buried inside you to the hilt as you sob into the sheets.
The view inside his bedroom is breathtaking, overlooking the pool and the city below. At least, when you’re paying attention and not whimpering against his expensive sheets, his hips pressed up against your ass, his deep breaths above you an affirmation you’re affecting him just as much as he does you.
“One more, sweetheart.” His voice is soothing, the knuckle of his finger sliding against your spine. It’s a gentle reprieve for the moment, allowing you to breathe and center. “Give me one more.”
Somewhere on the floor, your clothes are pooled in a heap, quickly discarded by Ari when you finally came over, waiting for Ransom to leave for his country club afternoon. It’s frantic like it has been since you’ve embarked on this relationship, secretive enough that Ari knows how to work around Ransom, keeping the conversation polite via your messages, downright dirty over the phone when he calls, usually when you’re alone at your desk at work before he asks if you want to come over and tells you in every single detail what he plans to do to you.
And he makes good on his promise.
One more turns into two, every stroke hitting that spot just right until you’re practically choking on his name, seeing stars amid the vulgar sounds of your bodies moving together. Even with the intensity, there is still a softness that comes across that acts like a balm, keeping your mind protected even when your body isn’t from his ministrations that continue to keep you a dripping mess. Your guilt still simmers underneath, keeping it silent and allowing yourself to be doted on when you come apart on his cock again, his litany of praises against your skin a security blanket that you desperately need before he cums, thankful for the implant that you check for confirmation ever so often, just to give yourself piece of mind.
You don’t want to sully these moments with Ransom but he finds his way in regardless, long after Ari’s drawn you a bath, feeding you fruit while he washes your neck and back, stealing kisses that he knows will end too quickly. His sharp remarks about working late again, when you actually go in and come back home, still sting when he’s back on his rants about his mother and father who hint that he needs to get a job, even as his father leeches off his mother. It earned you the cold shoulder when you suggested you’d help him find something.
You were a traitor, on their side. At worst, ungrateful for the life he’d been sharing with you. A week later, you were gifted with a bracelet from Tiffany’s and a lavish dinner, the docile Ransom back on display after visiting Harlan and the money deposited into his account.
“See you in a few days?” Ari asks the same question when you’re at the door, helping you pull on your coat and kissing you so that you’ll remember it long after you’re gone.
“Visiting a friend.” You made good on your promise, booked your time to see Rochelle, even as Ransom quietly seethed at you leaving for a whole three days. “It’s been in the works for a while.”
“Dinner when you get back.”
You nod, unsure of where he’ll take you this time. Ever since you said you wanted to try new things, he’d been searching for eclectic places for you to eat.
And then he kisses you again, mouth lingering on yours just enough to leave you desperate when you force yourself out the door.
When you get home from work, Ransom is in the kitchen, washing his hands, sweat dripping down his face. It isn’t from a run. He’s still in his blue sweater and pants, turning off the faucet while you toss your bag on the counter.
“Everything okay?” You don’t know how much you want to pry, his shoulders rolling slightly as he rips off a paper towel and inspects his fingernails.
“Fine. How was work?”
“Long. Glad to be home.”
It isn’t a lie. The event is finally over and for once, you get to relax, depending on the definition of the word when you see him nod.
“You’ve been working a lot of long hours these days. Makes me wonder if you’re always working or if you’re finding something else to occupy your time.”
Another barb but this time you aren’t prepared for the precision of it. A well timed bullet that makes you swallow, your eyebrows knitting together in confusion.
“What are you talking about?”
He gives you a long stare before he tosses the balled up paper towel in the trash.
He opens a drawer, rummaging through the random menus you’ve both collected, mulling over the choices that he doesn’t bother asking you about.
“Italian sounds good.”
And just like that, you’re having something you don’t want but it’s not worth it to speak up and say you want something else, even if you aren’t sure what you want. It’s a gateway to another argument that you know you won’t win and you’re on the cusp of asking what he knows before you give up, sighing in defeat.
“Sounds good to me. I’m going to shower and change.”
Each step you take, you can feel his eyes on you until you disappear, closing the bedroom door behind you as you exhale, covering your mouth to keep from making a sound. You aren’t sure how he knows but he knows and you’re scrambling to replay the memories in your head, wondering if he saw you anywhere. You’ve been careful, balancing both Ari and Ransom like an art form that you wonder if he’s gone through your messages. You’ve been careful with those too, thinking hard until realize ten minutes have gone by and you haven’t gotten into the shower.
When you’re finished with your shower, which only led you to more possibilities that Ransom could end this and potentially ruin you, your hands shake when you apply your lotion, knowing that you have to do something.
You text Ari before you head downstairs, asking to meet him tomorrow at his place. You’ll state your case and once again, you frustrate yourself as to why you can’t just leave Ransom. The past two weeks have been good but two good weeks don’t erase your guilt or his own. Deep down, you keep hoping for a clean slate, Ransom reaching for you in his sleep to pull you against him and for a moment, you allowed the affection, secretly wishing it could be like that all the time.
Ari replies almost instantly and you relax for the moment, joining Ransom back downstairs. He’s still sifting through some papers on the coffee table, distracted at the moment when you watch him frown.
“Back to being Harlan’s research.” It’s murmured while he stares at a paper, smirking for a moment.
“That’s great. How do you feel about it?”
“I did it more to see the look on Walt’s face. Priceless.”
You aren’t surprised at the dig at his uncle but more so the fact that he’s got an actual job. You don’t want to ask anymore questions, a quiet surge of pride going through you at Ransom’s effort – or lack thereof, considering who his boss is. But it’s a start. That little hopefulness you thought was dying out is still holding on.
The doorbell rings and Ransom stands, heading to the door to accept the delivery as the smell of pasta and bread fills the air. Placing the bags on the counter, he taps his finger on his lips before he selects a bottle of wine.
“Might as well celebrate my employment, right?”
Wine glasses clink on the counter before he pours, handing on to you while he studies you for a moment.
“You okay?” His question makes you nod quickly. “Or was it something I said?”
“No. Just tired.”
“Hmm. Doesn’t feel good when the shoe is on the other foot, does it?”
“Ransom, can we not? Please?” Your nerves are shot sky high, lulled into a false sense of security when he gives you a cold smile.
“It was a joke. Maybe you can have the rest of the bottle to calm down.”
You slide off the bar stool and head to the couch, teeth dragging against your lower lip. Does he or doesn’t he swirls in your mind, his peace offering of pasta and salad sliding onto the coffee table.
“Truce?” He doesn’t sound remorseful. But he never feels he has to apologize for anything either so you’ll take it as an apology, nodding as he sits next to you.
You eat in silence, Ransom flipping through the channels to find another documentary. The sound of the TV fills the air, easing the tension as you finish your dinner and down your wine.
“This one is gonna be good.” Ransom’s eyes are glued to the screen, unmoving when you get up to pour the rest of the wine in your glass.
Even as the door opens, you aren’t prepared to say goodbye, Ari pulling you into a hug as the lump in your throat thickens. He’s still dressed in his dress slacks, his white shirt slightly unbuttoned, revealing a hint of tanned skin.
“What’s the matter? Tell me.” His voice is urgent. Insistent while he holds you tight, keeping you upright when you think of how Ransom looked at you.
He pulls back to study your face, realization dawning on him that he already knows what you’re going to say. He shakes his head before you can answer, his eyes darkening.
“I have to.” Your voice is filled with sadness, trying to keep it together. “I think he knows.”
“And? Did he say for sure?”
Ari scoffs at your denial, sighing deeply as he pulls you forward to kiss your forehead.
“No, sweetheart.” The denial is soft, gentle that makes you blink in confusion. “I’m not letting you go.”
His hands are on both sides of your face as he inhales slightly.
“I said no. I’m fine with being the other man. But I’m not letting you go because you’re worried about what he’ll think.”
“I’m not doing this anymore.” You want to sound in control but you see it in his eyes, the way his smile plays over his lips. It’s almost the same one as Ransom’s – that you were never in control in the first place. It feels like you’re drowning, the way he stares at you like you’re under the surface, a thing to be observed.
“Should we tell him together? That you make the prettiest little sounds for me when you’re on my cock? That your lunch breaks end with me between your thighs? I like you, sweetheart. I really do. I cherish you. Crave you. You’re not leaving me to go back to him. Not after what you’ve told me about him.”
His hands settle on your shoulders for a moment, his hand sliding up your neck and to your jaw, his thumb sliding over your lower lip.
“You go on your trip. I’ll even have my driver come pick you up. Have fun, see the sights. But you’re coming right back to my bed when you return. Understand?”
The lithe in his voice is downplayed by the dangerous tone, his grip just enough pressure for him to get his point across. He’s waiting for you to answer and you don’t keep him waiting, nodding slowly.
“That’s better. I’ll see you in a few days.”
“Anyone there?” Rochelle throws a piece of popcorn at you, hitting you on the shoulder when you break out of your stupor.
“Yeah, sorry. Just thinking.”
“Not about Ransom again.” She grimaces while you throw it back at her.
“No. I like New York.”
Rochelle is instantly intrigued, her eyes wide in surprise before she waggles her perfectly sculpted brows.
“Enough to move here?”
“Shut up!” A pillow launches your way that you grab, laughing as her screech fills the night air. “I’ve been asking you for how long? What changed?”
Where could you start? Ransom taking you apart in the shower, Harlan worried about the last minute notice from Marta that she was quitting. You know he disliked her from the start and to his not-so-quiet anger when Harlan fell and she was nowhere to be found. On Ari’s lap on the way to the airport, a whimpering mess as he edges you, making you promise that you’ll come back.
“Just a change of scenery.”
“What about Ransom?”
Maybe this time you’ll get the courage. You won’t even have to say anything. You can just get up and go. You’ve been toying with extending your trip and when you look in Rochelle’s hopeful eyes, you lean back on the couch.
“Doesn’t matter. He can deal.”
After the movie marathon is over, your belly full of alcohol and Sour Patch Kids, you extend your trip, adjusting your plane ticket as Rochelle starts to plan places to visit and apartments to check out. It feels like a chance to make a break and without having Ari or Ransom to answer to, you’re free to dream out loud.
The next two days fly by, including the day you were supposed to be back, sending a text to Ransom to tell him you’ll be back in a day or so and an apology to Ari. As nervous as you are to send them, a sense of relief floods through you once it’s sent.
Where Ransom texts, Ari calls. You don’t answer, sticking your phone inside your pocket while you walk into an empty apartment, Rochelle listing off all the details of the place while the rental associate chimes in with additional facts.
Ransom’s text is unsurprising, reminding you that you had broken your word and that he had to rearrange his plans to pick you up from the airport, demanding the updated information.
But it’s Ari’s voicemail that gets your attention. Your phone burns an invisible hole in your pocket until you’re back in the safety of Rochelle’s apartment, putting your phone up to your ear while she’s changing in her bedroom.
“I’m glad you’re enjoying your trip, sweetheart. Makes me happy that you get to see your friend. But as I recall, we had a deal. Not that it changes much. I’ll see you in a bit.” There isn’t a goodbye, just the click of the phone ending the call that makes you chew on your lower lip.
That was hours ago when he’d called, NYC only a short plane ride away.
When you call him, he picks up, your voice wavering with fear and anger.
“Ari, are you here?”
“Of course, I am. I told you we had a deal. Looks a little weird extending out your trip for another four days, doesn’t it? Without telling me?”
“I’d come back.” You aren’t sure if it’s a lie. You hadn’t gotten that far in your plan.
“Now you don’t have to. Meet me for dinner. Eight sharp.”
“I can’t.” Your mind is reeling, unsure of what lie you can spin to tell Rochelle that you have to leave.
“Why not? Plans?”
“Are we getting pizza or what!” Rochelle’s loud voice can be heard in the background as you hear Ari laugh.
“Tell her no. But you’ll bring her back something. See you at eight, sweetheart.”
You want to scream in frustration, your heart thumping in your chest while you try to calm down. This web of deceit you’ve spun is too thick to get out of and you need to be honest with her. No more lies, not even if she grills you.
When you see her, you try to smile but you know she can tell something is wrong.
“I… I’ve been seeing someone. Someone that isn’t Ransom. For a little while. He’s in New York tonight and he wants to take me to dinner. Is that okay?”
Rochelle nods quickly, a grin spreading across her pretty features.
“Oh my god, you finally broke up with Ransom. About time!”
You inhale a sharp breath, smiling without confirming or denying it.
“Are you okay if I go?”
“Yeah, yeah, go! A date? You need to tell me all about him when you get back. I can’t believe you were holding out on me!”
At seven fifty-two, you’re seated across from Ari, blue eyes shining in amusement while you look down at the table.
“Don’t look so glum, sweetheart. I’m glad you could make it.”
“Ari, I can’t do this anymore. I told you. I think I just need to be alone.”
“I hear you. But we’re waiting for someone.”
Ari puts his finger to his lips while you look at the additional chair, looking up at him.
“What do you want to drink?”
The waiter comes by as if on cue, Ari giving you a small, soft smile.
“Gin and tonic?” Ari asks you and you nod, your heart still heavy with guilt.
“Two gin and tonics. And a scotch.”
Ari reaches over and takes your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.
“You’ll understand in a bit. I’m just glad you’re here. Thought I’d lost you for a little bit.”
“No.” You’ll have your dinner and then go. Not even if he tries to kiss you. You need to come clean to someone, to lay your sins bare.
“Couldn’t keep your hands off of her, could you Levinson?”
The chair whines when Ransom yanks it backward, glaring at you for a moment before you pull your hand away. The stare makes you shiver before he looks away to Ari. You don’t like his expression, blank and yet cold while Ari’s face shows no emotion.
“You tell her yet?”
“No. I was waiting for you.” Ari gets quiet as the drinks are placed at the table.
“Tell me what?” Your confusion finally breaks, your nerves shot at the sight of both of them at the table.
“Ransom likes his games of chance. In his drunken cocky haze, he bet you, sweetheart. And lost.” Ari’s words roar in your ears as Ransom shifts in his chair, his jaw twitching. “And you were my prize.”
“What?” Your voice is finally found, swinging your head toward Ari. “So it wasn’t a coincidence.”
“Not at first. I toyed with the idea of leaving you alone. You creating that little dating profile behind his back was all you, sweetheart. I knew you were tired of him. That part was easy. It was supposed to be one night but I couldn’t get enough of you. Then Ransom had to come along.” He shoots a look at Ransom, who tilts his head to the side with a smirk.
“Shouldn’t make it that easy for me to find out you’re a fan of insider trading.” Ransom’s angry, you can tell by the way he shifts in his chair, rolling his eyes while you shake your head.
“What? What does that have to do with me?” Your head is still spinning with them in front of you, the tension so thick that your stomach lurches in response.
“It was supposed to be one date. Lover boy over here decided to keep it going. And you let him.” Ransom’s eyes don’t leave Ari as he takes a sip of his scotch. “So I did a little digging. Found out his hands aren’t as clean as I thought.”
“And your grandfather’s missing nurse? Why don’t you tell her what really happened to Marta?” Ari’s voice is low, your blood running cold at what he’s insinuating.
“Ransom, what did you do?”
“What I had to.”
You try to push your chair back but Ransom stops you, Ari giving you a hard look.
“This has nothing to do with me. Just let me go. I’m done.” You don’t want to see either of them, nausea rising rapidly as you try to breathe.
“You’re not done. You go when we say you do. All that talk about me cheating on you and you were doing it right under my goddamn nose. Even though I knew about it, I figured you’d come clean.” Ransom’s words eat away at you, your eyes filling with tears.
“I’m sorry. I was trying to break it off but you wouldn’t let me. He won’t let me either. Just tell me what you want.” Your words are a jumbled mess, Ari staring hard at a patron before he wipes your tears with a napkin.
“We both want you. You know our secrets now and yours are out in the open. So that’s the deal, sweetheart. We both get to keep you.”
“I don’t want that. Please.” Ransom makes no move to pull you closer at your plea, Ari sighing while he moves his mouth into a frown.
“Well, that’s gonna be a problem. See, I’m keeping his secret and he’s keeping mine. You’re the only thing that’s going to keep us from burning each other to the ground. That’s how it works. So it’s still the same arrangement but with a little perk.” Ari finishes, nodding at Ransom who smirks.
You whine against the pillow, eyes squeezed shut as Ari bottoms out inside you.
“You see that, Drysdale? Look how good she takes my cock. This pussy was made for me.”
You know he’s recording you, your cunt clenching down on him as he gives a slight groan.
“She always takes me so well, don’t you, sweetheart?”
You can only mewl in reply when his hand goes to your hip.
“Now show your stuck up boyfriend how you fuck yourself on my cock.”
Ransom ups the ante when it’s his turn. The jeweled plug is nestled into your ass, Ransom giving it a hard tap as you whimper.
“Still my world.” Ransom tells you when he pulls an orgasm from you. “And don’t you forget it.”
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