Tumgik
#the pecular club
saikokirakira · 2 years
Text
Just a Ransom Fic for now
[edit 17/09: idiot me forgot to add a plot summary. this is what happens when you thirst too much. 🤡]
summary: After being released from prison, Ransom hides away in a bar at the lesser end of town. He finds you, a pecular little thing, and wonders how much he can screw you over. Literally and figuratively.
or...
Ransom is adult-grounded and decides to cause chaos, starting with you. Luckily, you're down to fuck.
a/n: choosing to post this first because it has been collecting dust since – checks version history – march. might need feedback if the rest of my draft is worth adding parts. this is also the filthiest thing i posted (but not wrote) so far.
also... my personal author's note from february for myself was pretty funny.
[Note: The power went out while I was writing the snu-snu. It was God telling me to go do my bedtime routine, and as punishment, I am gonna have to take a fucking cold shower without the heater.]
word count: 4.9k (60 words away from 5k of pure thirst, good lawd)
Tumblr media
warning/tags: MINORS DNI, 18+ only, Ransom 'Sweater Daddy' Drysdale (walking red flag), reader is kinda dumb, p in v sex, no mentions of y/n, dumbification, size difference/size kink, oral (both receiving/giving), mentions of drug use, alcohol, language/cursing, non-canon to the film (Harlan lives), not proofread (i'm literally dozing off while doing final checks), self-indulgent fic
When Ransom first met you, you were almost a breath of fresh air. Given that he was in prison for a couple of months, being in that seedy little bar was literally fresh air to him. He almost thought that your voice was wasted on the piss-drunk people who weren’t even paying attention.
In fact, Ransom was surprised people were even listening when they booed after you mentioned that you were taking a fifteen-minute break after your first set. You seemed to take it as a compliment when you blew a kiss to the person who booed the loudest, which Ransom figured out as a plea for one more song. You hopped off the small platform and skipped over to the bar right beside to the man who couldn’t take his eyes off you.
“Enjoying the show?” you asked, your voice still holding that sweet melodic tone even when you weren’t singing.
Ransom was about to snide at your comment, until he caught himself, realising that you were asking him a genuine question about your performance. “I’ve heard better,” he said nonchalantly.
Like earlier, you didn’t take it to heart. You took the small virgin cocktail you got from the bartender, who gave Ransom a nasty look behind your back. You took a long sip before sucking on the orange wedge. “Sure, you have,” you replied, turning to the bartender and giving him a childish orange wedge smile.
Ransom narrowed his eyes before coming to the conclusion that you speak in the literal sense. Two months in prison, and he was still hyper-aware of the constant snarky and snide conversations from his family. Like he said, breath of fresh air.
“You don’t look like you’re from around these parts,” you noted, making Ransom raise a brow at you. “The clothes, the way you present yourself,” you shrugged. “Also, most of the regulars here know each other.”
“Let’s just say it’s the only bar in town where I won’t run into people who know me,” Ransom said, swallowing what’s left of his drink in one shot.
Especially those fuckers from the country club who bailed on him as soon as those cops arrested him.
You hummed in thought before going back to nursing your own drink. You didn’t look like you cared to know more or even ponder further on the mystery of his identity. Ransom liked that you minded your own business, but maybe too much. Your disinterest might not make you want to end up in his bed at the end of the night.
A man walked up to you and whispered something in your ear. You smiled and nodded before passing back your cocktail glass across the bar. “Thanks for the drink, Mel,” you said. Then you glanced to Ransom. “Back to work. Enjoy the rest of the performance, new guy.” You hopped off your stool and skipped back to the platform.
“Good luck, pal.”
Ransom turned to Mel, the elderly bartender that shot him the dirty look earlier. He immediately got on Ransom’s nerves for not being able to mind his own business and eavesdropping. “Two more beers might improve my chances then,” he ordered with a plastic smile but not an ounce of emotion behind his eyes.
Mel was not discreet in hiding his disgust as he handed Ransom two bottles. “Look, rich guy,” he began, “they’re a good kid. I can serve you all the alcohol you want, but you best find your conquest someplace else.”
This old man is really getting on his nerves. Ransom unconsciously zoned him out as his attention was pulled in by your voice. You were right how most people in the bar knew each other. You were singing a song in a foreign language that had everyone cheering and clapping along. They were entranced by you.
… and so was Ransom.
The rest of your final set went with songs that anyone else can zone out to focus on their drinks or company. At one moment, Ransom’s focus shifted to a leggy brunette that insisted he buy her two drinks. Seems like he had his company for the night sorted out.
Except that she asked too many questions.
Ransom was not unfamiliar with female company that constantly questioned him about his background. Like you said, the way he dressed, the way he presented himself, even the way he talked, displayed how high up he was in social standings. Now, it just was nothing more than an inconvenience.
With Ransom’s face plastered on every celebrity – and often, business news section for his third DUI — was it even his third? Maybe fourth? — Harlan and Linda finally cut him loose for another bad rep he caused on the family business. Well, maybe as loose as they can take without the press making more of an issue out of it. He served his couple of months since none of his shit family would pay his bail, and he didn’t even have enough on his account because Harlan insisted that Ransom pay the fines and his car repairs by himself.
To make things worse, Ransom had to earn his allowance again by working as Harlan’s research assistant for a few months. Like some fucking child. Which meant he has to stay in town and couldn’t go back to Boston.
Now, he was sitting in a seedy bar to avoid people who know him and still expected to hang around his family until his goddamn parole ended. His self-seething boiled an angry burn in the pit of his stomach, so he began ordering in the shots. If he gets another DUI, so be it. By his fifth shot, the brunette was getting upset at the lack of attention that she turned her attention to the gentleman across the bar.
Ransom didn’t care one bit.
“I know I’m no professional, but you don’t need to get wasted after hearing me sing, dude.”
Ransom turned to the source of melodic giggles and saw you back in the stool you occupied an hour ago. Wait. Did she – or they, whatever that old fart said – just call me dude?
“Definitely not interested in me,” Ransom unconsciously muttered to himself out loud before clearing his last shot glass.
“On the contrary, I find you very interesting,” you chimed, nursing another orange-y mocktail. “I don’t get new faces among my audience, and you look like you know how to have a good time.”
Ransom raised his brow, his interest now spiked. Reads people well, but shit at judging character. He took a glance at Mel, who was busy making drinks for a group of people across the bar. Eat shit, Mel. He smirked as he leaned forward to you. “Are you open to all kinds of fun?”
You tilted your head to the side, looking charming as ever. “What kind of fun are we talking about specifically?”
If Ransom wasn’t the asshole he was, he would be scared over how this person managed to be so openly trusting with that innocent aura they carried. It was almost as if they were hiding something. Then again, so was he.
~
Maybe Ransom wasn’t going to get another DUI after all. All he needed was a “your place or mine” question, and she – they, damn it – offered to drive at their apartment, mentioning that they had somewhere to be in the morning. By the time they got to their place, he was almost surprised at how the building looked.
It wasn’t a place Ransom would choose to live, but it was definitely around the upper middle-class area of the town, which was something that a bar singer could never afford. Definitely hiding something, he mused. At least he wasn’t going to regret not insisting they go to his place.
“Let’s go? Or are you too drunk? I can drive you home and call a cab from there,” you offered, worry flashing in those innocent eyes.
Ransom scoffed. He was never too drunk for sex. He was never too drunk to drive himself home either. To prove his own point, he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you in for a searing hot kiss, not caring that the gear lever was probably digging into your abdomen somewhere.
You smiled against Ransom’s lips before pulling away, tasting a mix of alcohol on your lips. You rubbed at your waist, where the lever lodged itself while Ransom took your breath away, and said, “Okay, dude, you proved your point.” After a pause, you snickered, “Well, not really.”
Ransom rolled his eyes. “Jesus, call me Ransom, enough with ‘dude,’” he said, getting off his Beamer.
You did the same and locked the doors before tossing the keys over to Ransom. His inebriated state had him fumbling over them in his fingers but catching them ultimately. You giggled at the sight, which Ransom thought sounded almost like tinkling bells as he followed you up the steps to the building entrance.
Once both of you were shut inside the elevator, Ransom caged you into a corner and bent down to capture your lips. He didn’t acknowledge how tiny you were in stature until now. The top of your head barely reached his shoulder that, after a while, Ransom decided to lift you by the waist and hook your legs around his waist.
Everything your legs felt was pure hard muscle, all concealed by his thick cable-knit sweater. You didn’t even expect how tiny his waist was until he kept your thighs firmly around it. With your thighs secured, Ransom’s hands slithered up your skirt, grabbing a good handful of your ass that had you whimpering against his lips.
You opened your eyes and glanced at the elevator screen. One floor left. You pecked Ransom’s lips one more time before hopping off the open elevator. At the end of the hall, you grabbed your keys from your purse and unlocked your apartment with Ransom following behind you.
As soon as the door clicked shut, Ransom was on you like a starved man. He lifted you on his shoulder, making you screech and giggle uncontrollably, something that only made the heat in Ransom’s belly bubble further. “Bedroom?” he grunted.
“Open door on the left,” you said, your hands sneaking up his thighs. “Wow,” was all you can muster when you stuffed your hands in the back pocket of his pants. Even his ass was pure muscle.
Without any form of gentleness or grace, Ransom dumped you on the bed and began stripping off his clothes, which prompted you to do the same. However, once you got to your stockings, Ransom wagged a finger at you to stop. As you looked at him in question, he finished pulling off his pants, leaving him in his tented boxers.
Clad with only your bra and stockings with your skirt bunched up by your ribcage, you whistled at the sight of Ransom’s sculpted body. “Can I just...?” you trailed off before reaching up to touch his pec, then his broad shoulder before feeling down the very biceps that flexed under his sweater when he manhandled you. “Dude, you’re crazy ripped.”
Ransom flashed you an unamused look from the name before pushing you on your back to the mattress. Your surprised gasp was music to his ears. The second one when he ripped your stockings right at the middle was far sweeter than the first.
“Ransom!” you finally cried out, pouting at your abused clothing.
“Don’t worry, you’ll be crying out my name for better reasons in just a second,” Ransom teased, unhooking your bra with experienced ease before tossing it to the side. He leaned back to admire what he was about to ruin and was pleased to see how you were already so worked up by him simply undressing you.
“I’m mostly crying for my stockings though.”
Ignoring you, Ransom grabbed the thin strip of your thong and dragged it to the side, exposing your slick folds to him. “All this for me? We barely even started yet,” he chuckled, running the pad of his index finger along your slit.
Your hips jumped off the mattress, and you let out a needy moan. Jesus, they should sing those moans at the bar instead, Ransom thought. More...
“Take them off,” you gasped, pulling at the elastic of your stockings. “Ransom, take them off.”
“No.” Ransom slapped your thigh as a warning. “You behave and keep these on. Maybe I’ll reward you if you stay good and keep calling me by my name.”
“Ransom,” you moaned, pushing your hips up as a means to find some sort of friction. “Ransom...”
“So needy, so obedient,” Ransom hummed, finally slipping a finger into your warmth. He appreciated how you eagerly took him in and was ready for more. His biceps were already stinging from your nails digging down as you begged for more.
Yet throughout all that desperation, those eyes looked up at Ransom with the same innocence out on the stage. It filled him with an overwhelming urge to just ruin you but also keep that innocence just for him. Only him.
And he has the entire night taking it all.
Ransom pulled you to the edge of your bed then dangled your legs over his massive shoulders. He heard your breath hitch at the first contact of his lips on the exposed skin of your inner thigh. His amusement extended when you whined out his name again as your hips strained against the firm grip he had on them.
A pinch on your thigh had you yelp when Ransom gave you another warning of behaving. Clenching your toes and fisting your sheets, you relaxed and spread your legs wider, but not before shooting him an impatient glare. That look resulted to a full bite on the opposite thigh, making you cry out.
“Please,” you moaned, panting in anticipation. “I’ve been good so far.” At this stage, you couldn’t even rub your legs together with Ransom settled between them. Your pleasure and relief all relied on him giving you what you needed.
Ransom seemed to take so much pleasure seeing you at his mercy, squirming and crying out for him. He flattened the pad of his tongue and licked a rough trail on your pulsing nub.
“Holy shit,” you hissed, wanting to run your hands all over his hair but chose to dig your nails into the mattress. You didn’t want to seem forward or too personal with the gesture. You were also pretty sure that he took his time styling it. He looks real pretty.
Annoyed that your mind was drifting someplace else, Ransom worked his mouth with an unrelenting pace that had you coming back and moaning without any regard of your neighbours. The walls weren’t paper thin at all, but the volume of the noises Ransom was pulling out of your lips from every suck and lick wasn’t something to underestimate. Heaven forbid you would start screaming by the end of the night, and damn, you were that close when he added his fingers to the mix.
You were quickly losing your breath from the overwhelming pleasure that was running through your veins. Your hyper-fixation on Ransom’s mouth working his magic didn’t even make you notice that your fingers had been pulling at his scalp, just as you wanted earlier. With his own hands busy, you managed to sit up and curl down over his head, scrambling for some sense of control, but Ransom wouldn’t have it.
“Ransom,” you gasped, feeling the coil tighten in your belly.
Ransom pulled his mouth away from your pearl and replaced it with his thumb, wanting to look at your face as you fell apart. Your hair, cropped short, was sticking to all sorts of direction. Seeing your head titled back and eyes squeezed shut, he usually didn’t care, but this time, he wanted to see this girl — fuck, person, whatever — come by his hand.
“No! Why?” you cried out, sitting up and whining as he abruptly stopped altogether. You growled, the adorable sound reminding Ransom of Harlan’s dogs when they were puppies, before they became total nightmares whenever he stopped by. He thought it was cute how you growled and thought you actually had a chance as you struggled by moving your hips with his fingers still inside you.
“That’s right,” Ransom smirked, curling his fingers inside your warmth, causing you to shudder but not enough to come. “Keep your eyes on me, pixie.”
In the midst of your lust-filled haze, you managed to raise a brow at the odd nickname. You heard babe, baby, doll, even the occasional love, but this one... you liked. You allowed it with a bite of your lip as his thumb roughly rubbed at your clit, your eyes fluttering shut again.
“Now, are you gonna be a good g– be good for me?” Ransom caught himself, and he almost hated himself for caring so much about how you identified yourself. I just don’t want to put them out of the mood now that I’m knuckles deep in their pussy, he reasoned with himself.
“Why are you being mean? I’ve been good for you the entire time,” you cried out, falling back on the bed. You could feel your orgasm slipping further and further away, frustration taking its place. You closed your thighs in a desperate attempt to move Ransom’s hand by your control.
“Hmm, let’s see,” Ransom drawled, moving his fingers at an impossibly slow pace from the confined space you created for yourself. “I gave you orders to look at me—”
“I’m looking at you now!”
Ransom glared at you before moving his index finger to pinch at your swollen nub, squeezing a surprised squeal out of you. “Forgetting your manners, pixie,” he spat out.
You opened your mouth, readying for a retort, when the haughty look on Ransom’s face made you rethink on pulling a bratty one on him. With a pout, you spread your legs and sat up, your hands gripping at Ransom’s shoulders. “I need it Ransom, please,” you sweetly begged, your tongue darting out to run against the smirk on his lips.
It must have worked because Ransom lightly pushed you back on the bed and began pumping his fingers at a satisfying pace but still controlled as a warning to keep you aware of him. This time, he also kept his free hand on your knee to keep your legs open. With the pressure building back in your core, you were almost in tears to have Ransom get you there faster. Your head began to turn into mush as you babbled out a mix of his name and pleases.
“Ransom, I’m close,” you panted, your half-lidded eyes struggling to stay open.
Aside from the flush on his neck and chest, Ransom kept his arrogant, self-assured air around him, revelling at the mess that you were right now. “Go on,” he smirked, letting go of your knee to run a trail up your torso. His hand ended up at your neck, and Ransom swore you felt your walls clench on his fingers from the slight pressure on your throat.
Next time, Ransom thought, biting his lips at the thought of an actual next time. When his hand moved down to your breast instead, you almost looked disappointed, but Ransom didn’t let you linger as he curled his fingers just at the right spot, which was all it took for you to fall apart. Ransom leaned over you to catch a perfect view as you cried out through your orgasm, grinding helplessly against his hand.
When your cries died down to tired moans and hums, Ransom slipped his fingers out, causing you to shiver. If you weren’t as flushed and breathless as you were, the embarrassment would definitely show on your face as Ransom held out his hand, wet with your slick and come. Even his signet ring on his pinky now had different kind of shine to it.
“What a mess, Pixie,” Ransom tutted. “You’re too fucked out from just my fingers.” When he began lowering back down your thighs, he hushed your protests, moaning about your sensitivity. “Shh, let me clean you up.”
Ransom managed to drag a smaller yet still thigh-quivering orgasm out of you with his tongue before he finally stripped you off all clothing. He pulled your thighs off his shoulders and climbed back up the bed after a small stop to retrieve a packet from his pants. With a firm grip on your waist, he lifted you onto his lap as he laid back against your headboard, wordlessly telling you what to do.
With your wobbly limbs, you hooked your arms around his neck and captured those soft lips, tasting remnants of yourself on his tongue. Sounds of wet kisses and the crinkling of a foil wrapper filled the room for a good minute before Ransom tapped your bottom as a signal. Reluctantly pulling away from his lips, you raised your hips to position his cockhead at your entrance before slowly sinking down. Despite coming twice, you still felt the burning intrusion of the fat head pushing through.
Ransom took great amusement at the sight of you trying your best to take him in. As small as you were, you managed to take more than half of him before your thighs began shaking. You could definitely take more of him, but damn if he wasn’t starting to feel like coming then and there.
“Tsk, do you need my help? Still?” Ransom asked. “Did you become a useless dumb baby from coming twice?” He tutted as he pulled your face to his, biting at your bottom lip that settled into a pout from his condescending tone.
“Your fi-fingers please,” you gasped, nails digging into his shoulder.
Though he would’ve liked to keep you on your toes a little while more, Ransom started to feel the pressure building as well. With a twinge of impatience, which has always been one of his defining qualities, he reached in between you to give you what you needed. Taking him in another inch deep in your tight walls, he finally let out a groan, which turned into a hiss when your walls clenched on him again.
“You like hearing how good you make me feel?” Ransom’s voice was rough and raspy against your ear. “You’re doing so well, Pixie. Just a little bit more.”
You shivered at Ransom’s hot heavy breathing against your ear, combining with the slow circles he was rubbing on your swollen pearl. You did want to take more, but damn, you felt so full that you swore that you can feel every vein lining his dick against your walls. The very thought made you clamp around him again, making you shudder at his breathy moan. You wanted to hear more, just as he pried moan after moan from you earlier.
Now on a mission, you steadied your knees, gripping his broad shoulders for support as you rose up until only the tip of his cock was left inside you. Arrogantly, Ransom remained seated back, both amused and turned on over how committed you were to take all of him in. Not many of his conquests were that bold to take all of him if they didn’t do so in one go. Maybe the truly kinky ones, he mused.
You carefully looked down, and Ransom, definitely knowing what he was doing, pulled his hand away from your clit, to give you an open view of you and him connected. Even though your hole was plugged by Ransom’s cock, it didn’t stop you from leaking down his shaft. You whimpered at the sight, squirming in your place until Ransom grabbed a good handful of your ass, squeezing tight.
“Don’t you dare lose me from that sweet cunt, Pixie. Or else.”
You shuddered at the thought. Would he grab your neck again? Put you over his knee? All terribly bad yet so good ideas, but you focused on the task at hand instead. You hooked your hands around the back of Ransom’s neck, keeping his gaze level to yours. Then… you sank down to his full length.
Holy shitballs. The pleasure that washed over his face and that delicious long groan was enough to make you come. And you did.
“Fuck,” Ransom panted, feeling you pulse around him. He so desperately wanted to follow you over the edge, but this was his first pussy since he got out. He was not ending this night that quickly, not with an unusual find like you. “That’s it,” he grunted, grabbing your hips to pull you underneath him on the mattress. Without giving you a moment to catch your breath, Ransom did not even hesitate to start pounding into your abused hole.
“Wait,” you gasped, feeling the line between pain and pleasure blur. “Ransom, wait!”
Ransom grunted, annoyed but slowed down regardless. “Hurts?”
You shook your head, yet not being able to help your hips jerking up to meet his thrusts. “’m sensitive,” you squeaked.
Ransom let out a noise between a scoff and a chuckle before going back to his unforgiving pace. “You will give me one more,” he declared. “You’ll be good for me, right?”
Not trusting yourself to speak, you nodded frantically.
“What was that? Use your words, Pixie,” Ransom said, his hand reaching down to place a warning thumb on your clit. Still, his pace caused his finger to move and stroke at the bundle of nerves, sending electricity down to your toes.
You cried and tried to pull his hand away. “No more,” you begged. “Can’t. No more.”
He easily moved your hand away and shoved it back to your side. “One more, one more,” Ransom panted, his release quickly approaching. “Fuck, you feel so good.” His rhythm was starting to falter as he chased his peak while you were reduced into a mess of babbles and cries.
“Your pussy is fucking choking me,” Ransom growled. “You’re going to make me come. Yeah? Are you gonna let me come on that pretty mouth of yours?”
“Yes, yes, yes, Ransom!” you babbled almost noncoherently.
“Fuck!” Ransom shouted as you squirted around him, the wetness spraying on his thighs. He quickly pulled out and crawled up to you, ripping off the condom and tossing it to the side. He tapped the head of his cock against your waiting tongue.
Your eyes locked into Ransom’s towering figure as he knelt over the side of your head, roughly stroking himself to finish. Then there it was. The man’s O-face was so deliciously sinful that your core traitorously throbbed just from the sight of it.
Spray after spray of his come filled your mouth. Ransom carefully held the back of your head but not pulling you deep enough to reach the back of your throat, and you knew exactly why. When Ransom started to calm down, you pulled away but not before giving his tip one last suckle to catch the remaining drops.
You leaned up on your elbows, not trusting your legs to sit down. You looked up at Ransom who was staring down at you, panting and eyes dark. You flashed him a close-lipped smile before sticking out your tongue, showing him most of his spend, thick and heavy. You giggled when you swirled your tongue around your lips, dribbling all over your chin.
Ransom’s cock twitched at the sight, making him growl at you in warning. As much as he wanted to keep you up until it was bright outside, he was starting to feel the downside effects of all the alcohol he consumed at the base of his skull. Maybe if he had a bump he could definitely go on, but the drugs he carried that night was confiscated when he got arrested.
Instead, Ransom cupped your jaw, tilting your head higher. His thumb scooped back his come and pushed it back into your mouth. He then pressed his thumb against your lips, keeping them shut. Much to his approval, he saw the slight movement of your throat. Not a quitter, he mused.
“Did I do good?” you looked up at him hopefully.
Ransom smirked. “You were a very good g— you were good, Pixie,” he said, dropping down on the bed beside you to catch his breath.
You giggled. “I don’t know what Mel told you, but you can still call me girl, you know. I don’t mind either way.”
Ransom scoffed, caught red-handed. “I didn’t want to assume.”
“Nice to know you actually care, dude,” you said, finally deciding to sit up. You absolutely needed to go use the bathroom now. Maybe brush your teeth.
Swinging your legs at the edge of the bed to test them, you carefully stood up and made your way into the bathroom, aware of Ransom’s eyes on your backside. Once inside the bathroom, you grabbed your toothbrush, loaded it with toothpaste, then took a seat on the toilet. After relieving yourself, you finished brushing your teeth before going back to your bedroom.
Much to your surprise, Ransom was still on your bed, now passed out. Even though he seemed to be the type to leave right after a hook-up, you figured all that alcohol he had at Mel’s finally caught up to him. You didn’t mind. It wasn’t the first time a one-night stand actually stayed the night on your bed.
Though you may have underestimated his size because your double-sized bed made it seem like a single from all the space he took.
270 notes · View notes
abc-aggie · 3 years
Photo
Tumblr media
Fan art of @cristichaat from the pecular club
2 notes · View notes