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#dark ransom drysdale
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Three for One 1
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Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, cheating, customer service abuse, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: As a customer service associate, you're used to work with a wide variety of characters. Your efforts to go above and beyond draw the attention of a certain set of customers who want more than what's on the shelf.
Character: Andy Barber, Lloyd Hansen, Ransom Drysdale
Note: Right, this was supposed to be a drabble series but it morphed and not I'm fucked.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)
Love you all. Take care. 💖
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It's the most special time of year! Mistletoe, jingle bells, and holiday cheer! Oh, and hot chocolate. Lots of that.
You hide your thermos under the desk and grab the crystal bottle again, giving a test spritz to the air. Your job isn't very complicated. All you do is say hi and chat about the perfume. Your manager says the job is selling but you don't like to see it that way.
You smile at a family of five as they veer towards the toy section. You don't think the six year old would be into an eau de parfum. It's understandable.
While you spend your hours wandering around expensive makeups and scents, you're filled with a certain hint of longing. For what you're paid to push the merchandise, you can't afford any of it yourself. Well, you've never been very materialistic.
You spin around and see a gentlemen approaching, though he doesn't seem to see you. He looks past you, almost through you. You stop in place and put on your best smile, fixing the red band around your head.
"Hello, sir, would you like to try some Gucci?" You offer and spray the nozzle at him.
He skids to a stop and recoils as if he's been slapped. He holds out his arm as he looks down at his coat, little droplets seeping into the fabric. He takes a whiff, his short mustache wiggling under his nose, and he scoffs as he tries to shake off the cologne.
"What the fuck are you doing?" He snips.
"Sorry, sir, I didn't mean to scare you."
"You just go around spray people with that horseshit?"
"Well, sir, with respect, I don't like that sort of language.
"And I don't like being drenched in dog piss," he blusters, "point me to the goddamn trimmers."
"Um, what kind? Nail trimmers? Pet trimmers? Garden trimmers?"
"What the fuck do you think?" He points to his own face.
You hold your smile. There's always that one customer who's having a bad day. Whatever's got him so upset must be worse than dealing with him.
"Personal care," you point to the far corner, "right over there, sir."
"Ugh," he stomps and storms off.
"I hope your day gets better," you call after him, "oh, did you want a store coupon--"
He ignores you as he waves you off over his shoulder. You watch him turn towards men's grooming and you shrug, rocking slightly. You try not to let them get to you. As jolly as you find this time of year, a lot of people don't feel the same.
You shrug off the encounter. You still have a few hours ahead of you and it's starting to bustle with customers. You help a couple find the home wares while keeping the boundary of cosmetics firm. Lucille, the manager, doesn't like you leaving your zone.
You approach a woman looking at the Prada selection and get her checked out with a new fragrance, specially gift-wrapped by yours truly. She leaves happy, a small victory for the day. You celebrate but not too much.
You come around the counter just as you see that man strutting back up. He has an item in his hand and ignores you as he passes. Still you smile at him.
"Annoying," he mutters under his breath.
"Need help finding anything else, sir?" You ask his heels.
He stops and you see the way his spine stiffens. Oh no, you shouldn't have said anything. He slowly turns to face you.
"You can shut up," he marches up to you and grabs the bottle from your hands, "shut." He sprays you in the face, "up." He squirts you several more times before shoving the vial against your chest, "stupid little girl."
You take the bottle, blinking as you use your cuff to wipe the perfume away from your eyes. He continues on his path as you stand dumbfounded, drenched in Gucci cologne. It's hard to breathe through the heavy scent and you can't help but cough.
What a jerk. Just because he's having a bad day, doesn't mean everyone needs to.
Slowly you grow accustomed to the smell of yourself. It’s not too unusual. You go nose blind about halfway through your shift once you spray a few too many samples. You keep your distance from customers, offering them a spritz but trying not to crowd them with the vapors of cologne rippling off of you.
You yawn as the afterwork rush floods in and you make another round, smiling at Sofia as she peeks over at you. She’s with another customer at the counter, ringing them up as she gabs. You spin at the display at the center of the crossway that runs through the beauty department and stagger back before another can run you over.
You apologise to the tall man as he skids to a stop on his soles. You can tell he’s in a hurry by the way he grips his briefcase and squares his jaw. He wears a long dark wool coat as flecks of snow melt into his thick beard.
“Oh, sorry, I er, wasn’t–” He clears his throat, collecting himself, “I… didn’t see you.”
“That’s okay, sir,” you assure him, “would you like to try the new scent?”
You hold up the onyx bottle but don’t spray him. You don’t need another dousing. He looks at the silver letters on the side then at you. The furrow in his brow lightens as his blue eyes swim.
“No thanks, but er, you think you could help me find something?”
“Of course,” you chime and lower the bottle, “are you looking for a gift for someone special?”
He nods, “my mother-in-law is on her way into town, I need a present. Maybe perfume?”
His tone is tinted with frustration as he reaches up to rub the back of his neck. He lets out a long sigh. He’s one of those shoppers; the last minute scrambler. You grasp the vial in one hand and tug at the front of your thick red sweater, you’re starting to get a bit toasty in the crowded store.
“How old is she?” You ask.
“Um,” he clamps his lips together and thinks, “hmmm, probably seventy-something? I’m sorry, I guess I should know that.”
“That’s okay, I… I would suggest some Liz Taylor,” you turn on your heel and wave him after you as you head off, “it’s a classic. Not so much a me scent but the older crowd likes it. Oh, and it’s on special so your wallet won’t hate it, either.”
You stop by the Diamonds display as you face him again. He follows at a pace and stops before the shelf, perusing the gold caps and crystal caps. He considers the rack in deep thought.
“Here,” you set down your bottle on a nearby table of seasonal decorations and take one from the display. You slip out a strip of cardstock and spray it with the sampler, “this one is gardenia. That was her favourite scent. It’s probably the least pungent.”
You offer him the sample and he eyes it. He slowly bends and sniffs the end of the paper. He wiggles his nose. It makes you sneeze too. As much as you’re a fan of the classic actress, her scents are dated.
“Smells like her,” he grumbles under his breath, “sure, I’ll take that.”
“Great,” you declare and trade the sampler for a boxed bottle, then retrieve your disposed Gucci vial, “would you like me to check you out, sir?”
“Is it faster?” 
“I can be fast,” you promise him, “this way.”
You go around the sparkling counters and he meets you across the till. You type in your log in, taking several tries to get your passcode right. The man places his briefcase on the counter,a hand resting on the edge.
“You know a lot about this stuff?” He prompts.
“Yeah, I guess,” you smile as you scan the perfume and tap the special offer on the screen, “kinda part of the job.”
“Hmm” he hums again, in that thoughtful manner. You look at him but he’s not looking at your face, “that’s a nice sweater.”
You look down at the red wool speckled with pearls. It’s new and one of your favourites already. You can’t help a little wiggle of your shoulders, “thanks!”
“Very… cheerful,” he muses as he takes out his wallet, “wish I could say the same of what awaits me.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, sir, it’s that time of year, I guess,” you push the debit machine towards him and he taps his credit card, “I’m sure your mother-in-law will love the perfume.” The transaction approves and the receipt prompts, “would you like an email?”
“Nah, that’s fine,” he tucks his credit card away.
“Would you like it gift-wrapped?” You offer, “it’s free?”
He hovers his hand over his briefcase as he considers it. His eyes meet yours and his cheek dimples, “alright, yeah, that’s… that’s perfect. Thank you.”
“No problem,” you beam back at him, “let me just get some tissue paper…”
You murmur to yourself as you grab some gold tissue paper and a white gift bag with a Christmas tree embossed into the side. You carefully line up the small box on the paper and begin your intensive work. You're a master wrapper, you used to work at the wrapping station in the mall.
“What about you?” He asks before the silence can stretch too far, “you seeing family for the holidays? When you’re not working?”
“Um,” you smile as you look up, “I’m just hanging out with my dog. I bought him a bone.”
“A dog,” he nods, “your family live out of town?”
Usually, you ask the questions. It’s easier that way. It deflects the attention from you. It’s why you like the job; you can hear all about others and not have to think about yourself.
“Yeah, something like that,” you slip the wrapped box into the bag and fluff the tissue paper.
“Eh!” The loud exclamation makes you jump as the man merely turns his head, a tic in his jaw. His eyes narrow as another customer approaches, strutting with hands in his jacket pocket as he calls out, “Barber, what the hell?”
Your customer shifts towards the man, heels squeaking on the floor, “Hugh.”
“Don’t Hugh me, asshole,” the other man retorts, “you said you were busy? What’s the matter, you lose too much money last time?”
“Suzette is in town. Family dinner,” the man, Barber, drones dully.
“Ah, ditched for the old crone, I get it.”
“What are you doing here?”
“Well, wouldn’t you know it, poker night was canceled, something about not enough seats,” the man counters sharply.
“Next week,” the first man growls.
“Hey, you,” the man in the russet coat snaps his fingers in your direction, “you got some of that Acqua di Gio. That dumb girl over there said you’re sold out.”
Your brows pop up and you swallow tightly. He’s another type. The arrogant demander. He doesn’t hear no. He’ll ask everyone the same question in hope of getting a different answer.
“We are out of stock, sir, but I could order it in for you,” you suggest.
“Order in? I can just go on Amazon, thanks for nothing,” he chops his hand at you dismissively.
“Hey,” the other man nudges his chest, “be nice. She’s working.”
“What? I’m here to spend money and they got shit all–”
“It’s December,” the other man reproaches before he turns back to you, “sorry, my friend is a jerk.” He accepts the gift bag as you hold it out, “thank you. You saved me.”
“No problem, but er, I was gonna say,” you turn to the other man, “sir, I have some samples of the Armani. I could give you those while you wait for the order.”
“Samples?” He echoes, “how many?”
“Let me have a look,” you back up and go to the drawer at the back of the checkout.
“I gotta get going, miss,” the first man waves his hand as you peek over your shoulder, “have a happy holiday.”
“You too,” you chirp back and find the last few tubes of Armani. You claim them and prance back to meet the new customer at the counter, “I have five.” You lay out your wares, “if I order in a bottle it’ll be in just before Christmas.”
“Two weeks?” He puffs.
“I’m sorry, sir, that’s the earliest I can do. It’s the last day I can guarantee delivery before Christmas.”
“Talk, talk, talk, order it,” he snaps.
“Right, let me just…” you open the shop and search up the scent. You add it to the cart and proceed. “Alright, got that, did you want it shipped for pick up here or to your address.”
“Here, they can never fucking find my house,” he sniffs.
“Great, so when it arrives, we’ll give you a call. You’ll also get an email to confirm.”
“What’s going on here?” He points at you suddenly. You look down again at your sweater but don’t see anything amiss. You flinch as he reaches to pinch one of the pearls, “what is this?”
“Oh, I… my sweater,” you raise your head, swallowing down the insult. It’s cute!
“Huh, Walmart clearance, huh,” he scoffs, “alright, how much are you robbing me for?”
He reaches into his coat as you hit total. You read out the final amount but he doesn’t pull out a card; he hands you cash. You count the bills, twice over, then give him his change. He looms with impatient huffs.
“Here’s your receipt,” you hand him the strip of paper. “Have a good day, sir.”
“Mmm,” he pokes his tongue into his cheek as he shoves the receipt into his pocket, “actually, while I’m here, I’d like a new sweater. You can help me and I’ll show you what real quality is.”
You almost laugh. Not spitefully, it’s just a bit silly. He’s competing with you, a perfume pusher.
“Well, sir, I can point you towards men’s fashion but I’m not able to leave this department, I’m sorry,” you give a sheepish smile.
“Oh no, good girl wouldn’t want to break the rules,” he rolls his eyes, “goody goody and her precious little smile.” He hooks his thumbs in his pockets, “my shit better be in by Christmas.”
He twists and strides away. You watch him go but not for long as you’re quickly distracted by a customer looking at the Britney Spears collection. Those are easy sellers.
712 notes · View notes
krirebr · 6 months
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We Are Vain & We Are Blind
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Pairing: Dark!Ransom Drysdale x f!Reader
Word Count: ~9.7k
Summary: When you move back in with your parents after a broken engagement, a drunken dare to visit the scary house on the edge of town changes everything for you. Forever.
Warnings: Please note, these warnings are broad to avoid spoilers. Proceed with caution. Horror, psychological horror (including but not limited to: general mind fuckery, memory loss, nightmares) noncon/dubcon, gore, death (see prompt), violence (mostly offscreen), explicit language, oral sex (f!receiving), me wildly picking and choosing from hundreds of years of {redacted} mythology, All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI
Dividers by @saradika
Masterlist
A/N: This is my entry for @the-slumberparty All Hallow’s Tropes challenge. My tropes were The house from all the scary stories; Caught trespassing on private property; and A string of unexplained deaths. I had so much fun writing this one. Thanks so much for hosting Navy and Roo!
I tried out a lot of new things here. Horror! Smut! A ridiculous length! I’d really appreciate hearing what you think, so please drop a comment or reblog if you read it. Or come screech at me about this or anything else in my asks! Thank you for reading lovelies!
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Driving through your hometown, you were surrounded by fall colors. It was comforting, in its own way. Just as the seasons changed, so could you. You liked the sound of that, of this being a good change. You needed it. You were ready for it.
You pulled off of the main street and drove the few short blocks to your parents' house, parking on the side of the road. The house was something that hadn’t changed, everything exactly as it always had been. Your eyes drifted to the neighbor’s house, a piece of police tape hanging off the front door. Your brow furrowed in concern. You hoped everything was alright.
You grabbed your duffle from the backseat, deciding that you could wait to bring in everything else. Your entire life fit into your small sedan. You tried not to let that make you sad. This was good. Change was good.
You let yourself in with the key you'd had since you were a child. “Mom? Dad? I’m here,” you called into the house. 
Your mom met you in the entryway with a big hug. “We’re so happy you’re here, honey.” She took a step back to look at you, concern all over your face. “I could kill Andy for what he did to you.”
You sighed, “I’m fine, Mom, really.”
“You didn’t deserve to be treated that way.”
“I know, Mom,” you said, softly, both touched by her concern and a little annoyed that she was making you talk about it. You shrugged, “It’s over now.” Trying to change the subject, you asked, “What happened next door?”
Her face fell, “Oh, our poor neighbor died. They found him in the alley behind the American Legion. There was a whole investigation, but the coroner finally concluded that it was anemia.”
“I didn’t know you could die of that,” you said. Wasn’t it fairly controllable?
“I guess you can,” she shrugged, “if it’s bad enough and goes untreated.”
“Oh. Well, he must have been really sick then.”
She shrugged again, “Not that I ever saw, but how much can you ever know about someone you just say hello to at the mailbox? He was a nice young man, though.” She gave you another scrutinizing look, then gently patted your cheek. “Andy never deserved you,” she said and then made her way back down the hall towards the kitchen. “Your dad’s in his den,” she called over her shoulder.
You put your duffle down next to the stairs that led up to the bedrooms and moved through the house to find your dad. You found him in his den, sitting on the worn leather couch they’d had your entire life, baseball on the TV. You sat down next to him and he put his arm around you in a half hug. “It’s nice to have you home, sweetheart,” he said, not taking his eyes off the game.
“Thanks, Dad,” you said, appreciating the distance he was allowing you. The past month had been so hard. All the concern in everyone’s eyes, since it had all blown up with Andy, had become really difficult to take. You were happy to just sit here and watch baseball with your dad in silence.
At the next commercial break, he asked, “We have you for the whole night, or are you already making plans?”
You smiled. “I’m getting drinks with Tineka and David after dinner.”
“That’ll be nice,” he said. “Make sure you say hi for us.”
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You got to the bar a little late. Your mom hadn’t wanted to give you up so easily, even though you’d be living with them and working from their house for the foreseeable future. You’d been to this bar a few times before, the nights before Thanksgiving when you were home from college, and drinking legally was still so novel. But not in ages, maybe a decade. You made your way through the Saturday night crowd, searching for Tineka before you found her set up in a booth in the back with her husband David, and someone you hadn’t seen in a very long time.
Tineka climbed over David to tackle you with a hug. “Oh my god! It’s been so long. I can’t believe you’re here!”
You returned the hug a little harder than she probably expected. Longer, too. She pulled back and examined you carefully, concern in her eyes. You just shook your head and smiled. “I’m really happy to see you,” you said.
She beamed back at you and then gestured to the last person at the table. “Look who we ran into!”
“Robbie, hey,” you said with a little wave. Gosh, you hadn’t seen him since graduation. You’d been decent friends your senior year and had even gone to Prom together when neither of you had been able to get another date. You’d lost touch when you’d gone away to school, and he’d stayed home to learn the family business.
“We mentioned that we were on our way to see you, and he wanted to tag along!” Tineka enthused, raising her eyebrows at you significantly. You struggled not to roll your eyes at her; it had been the tiniest crush, and that was so many years ago.
“Welcome home,” he said, sliding over to let you onto the bench seat.
You poured yourself a beer from the pitcher on the table, and you all quickly got into all the customary ‘nice to see you again’ questions. Was it weird to be back in town? Did you miss Boston? Did you know this teacher had retired? Or that that store had closed?
The pitchers multiplied, and when you’d lost track of whose turn it was to cover the next one, Tineka leaned forward excitedly, “Oh, here’s some good town gossip! Someone’s moved into the old Thrombey house!”
“What??” you yelled, louder than you meant to. “No way! I don’t believe it.”
“Wait, what’s the Thrombey House?” David asked. He didn’t grow up here with you, only moving here after he and Tineka got engaged, and she decided this was where she wanted to raise a family.
“It’s this old, abandoned house on the edge of town,” she told him. “There used to be this big, rich family that lived there. This was back in, like, the 70s. It was this old, super-rich guy and all his kids and in-laws and everybody. One night, one of his kids–”
“Grandkid,” you interrupted. 
“Yeah, one of his grandkids, he just loses it and sets fire to the house, with everyone inside. They all die, and Hugh Drysdale, the grandkid, just disappears. No one ever sees him again.”
You nod seriously across from her. “And weird shit starts happening on the property. Like animal carcasses thrown onto what’s left of the porch. Or that psychic that went there when we were kids. She said all she felt was pain, and whatever spirits were there had a desperate warning, but she couldn’t get anything beyond that. And then our senior year, that freshman that disappeared around there. And no one’s ever been able to do anything with it. It just stands there, a burnt-out husk. There’s absolutely no way someone’s moved into it.”
Tineka was nodding furiously, but Robbie leaned forward and butted in. “Here’s what actually happened,” he told David. “There was an electrical fire. Everyone died, probably including Hugh.” Tineka took a breath, and Robbie put up his finger to stop her. “They never found his remains because he was burned to a crisp, and there wasn’t enough to identify.” He raised another finger, “It was abandoned long enough that animals moved in and left their prey lying around.” A third finger went up, “All these stupid stories and rumors have made it a beacon for the unwell and scam artists.” Another finger, “That kid disappeared because it’s where all you dumbasses would go to party, and he was drunk and wandered into the woods and got lost or fell or something.” He raised the last finger on his hand, “And whoever’s owned the property over the years probably doesn’t want to be responsible for the cost of demolition, so they’ve just done the bare minimum to keep the city off their backs.”
You turned to look at him, mildly annoyed, “I don’t remember you being this boring in high school.” He just rolled his eyes at you. “Whatever,” you said and turned back toward Tineka. “I still can’t believe someone’s moved in there. They’d have to gut the whole building!”
“All I know,” she said, slurring a bit, “is that someone’s been coming and going, and sometimes there’s a car parked there.”
“What? Have you been staking it out? Says who?”
“People!” she shouted, throwing her hands up in exasperation. Then her face lit up dangerously. “I know! We should go out there right now so I can prove it to you!”
You shook your head. “I walked here from my parents’ house, and I,” you placed both hands on the table to steady yourself, “definitely can’t drive.”
“Robbie can!” You could tell, now that Tineka had the idea in her head, she wasn’t going to let it go. “Right? Please, Robbie!” she whined. 
Robbie, who’d switched to water after his second beer, who knows how long ago, looked to David, who shrugged, and then to you. All you could do was grin at him and nod. You hadn’t done something stupid like this in such a long time. The feeling was a little thrilling.
“This is such a bad idea,” Robbie said. “It’s so dark out. You won’t be able to see anything anyway.” He looked around the table again and then slumped in defeat. “Fine,” he gritted. “Let’s go. I don’t want to be out there too long.”
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Robbie pulled up to the entrance of the lane leading up to the old Thrombey house and parked the car. Tineka leaned forward from her place in the back seat and lightly slapped your arm. “Alright!” she said, “this is where you get out! Good luck.”
“Wait,” you turned to face her, “I’m going on my own?”
“Yup! That’s how dares work.”
“When did this become a dare?” you asked, starting to get an uneasy feeling in your gut. “What if I get shot for trespassing?!”
“I thought no one could possibly live there,” she taunted. 
You tried to look to David for help, but he’d fallen asleep next to his wife. Robbie just gave you a shrug. “Fine,” you said, somewhat angrily. “But if I’m not back in 10 minutes, you better come find my body.” You got out of the car, slammed the door closed, and started your walk down the path.
The lane was surrounded by dense trees, and it wasn’t long before you couldn’t see the car behind you. The wind had picked up, blowing leaves in front of you, and you wrapped your cardigan around you as tightly as you could. A few minutes later, the house appeared before you. 
The outside had remained mostly intact, but you knew that it was basically a husk now. Still, it was large and foreboding. Most of the glass in the windows was cracked, and ivy had overtaken much of the siding. As you got closer, you could see that there was, in fact, a vintage beamer tucked against the side of the house. Damn it, Tineka was right. You were about to admit your defeat and go back to your friends when the front door opened. You froze as a man carefully walked out onto the decaying porch.
You could have sworn that a moonbeam suddenly appeared where there wasn’t one before to light him directly. He was dressed in a sweater and slacks underneath a long camel overcoat with a colorful scarf. He looked right at you even though you were sure that the area you were in was too dark to be spotted. “This is private property. You’re trespassing,” he said. Something about his deep voice and insistent stare had you pinned to your spot.
“Um,” you said, trying to look away, but there was something about him that had you transfixed. “Uh, sorry, I just– um, I didn’t think anyone lived here. How– how do you live here?”
He didn’t say anything, just raised an eyebrow at you. Everything had gone completely quiet. In the moonlight, his skin glowed, looked so pale it was almost translucent, and you felt completely hypnotized. He might have been the most beautiful person you’d ever seen.
“Sorry,” you said again, or maybe just breathed it. “We were just– we were drunk and–” You didn’t know how to finish that sentence. Why were you here?
He looked you up and down. “Hmm,” he hummed. “Not tonight then.”
“What?” you asked, even though you were pretty sure he was talking to himself more than to you.
“Not tonight,” he repeated, grinning a little meanly. “I don’t have much of a taste for cheap booze.”
What a strange thing to say. It’s not like you were inviting him for a drink. What did he mean?
His focus shifted to somewhere behind you, and it was like you suddenly found yourself back on earth. The sounds of the forest filtered back in, and you didn’t feel held in place anymore. As you tried to adjust to the sudden onslaught of your senses, you slowly processed that you could hear Tineka calling for you, and the sounds of Robbie’s car quickly approaching.
“Better run, little rabbit,” the man said. “You don’t want to keep them waiting.”   
You turned around to see the car pull up, and Tineka hopped out without waiting for it to stop fully. “Holy shit, you scared the shit out of us! You didn’t come back! This was so dumb, I’m so sorry.”
You turned back to the house, to say what, you weren’t sure. But the man was gone. Maybe he’d never even been there? Maybe you were even drunker than you thought. “I’m not sure what happened,” you said, in a daze, as you let Tineka and Robbie herd you back into the car.
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You were awoken the next morning by a knock on your bedroom door. Your mom let herself in without waiting for a response. She was carrying a large vase filled with roses so deep red, they were practically black. 
“What are those?” you mumbled, barely awake.
“How am I supposed to know?” she asked as she placed them on your dresser. “Someone left them for you.”
“Wha?” It was too early for this. You rolled over to look at the digital clock on the bedside table. Oh. It was 11 AM. Fuck. You didn’t think you’d had that much to drink the night before, but you felt incredibly hungover. This was drinking in your thirties, you guessed. “Is there a card?” You finally mustered the awareness to say. 
“Not that I saw.”
“Then how do you know they’re for me?”
She looked around theatrically. “Who else could they be for? Your father?”
You rolled your eyes. “Thanks for bringing them in, Mom. I’ll be down in a bit.”
She nodded and left. 
You got up and examined the bouquet. They were beautiful, but… dark. There was something about them that made you feel a little unsettled. The vase looked old. Vintage. Expensive. No card. No sign of where they came from. 
You opened your phone and pulled up the contact you’d made for Robbie the night before. You wrote out the text and hit send before you could think better of it.
Hey, weird question. And please know that I’m embarrassed to even ask it, especially if you say no, but. Did you send me flowers?
His response was immediate.
Nope, not me. Aren’t you popular
You cringed and tossed the phone on the bed to create some distance. You hadn’t even been back 24 hours yet. Who could they possibly be from?
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Late that night, you were wandering through the grocery store aisles, making your way towards the freezer section. Your mom didn’t keep snacks in the house, and you’d had a sudden craving for ice cream. Just as you were coming up on your prey, someone stepped right in front of you and turned around to face you.
“Well, if it isn’t the little trespasser,” the man from the Thrombey house said. It was startling to see him in the middle of the grocery store. He seemed so out of place, wearing his same overcoat and scarf, which from this distance you could now see was silk. Everything about him seemed expensive, even his smirk, and here you were in yoga pants and a too-large sweatshirt. How did he even recognize you? It’d been so dark that night.
“Uh, yeah,” you said, somewhat bashfully, “sorry again.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he said, with a cold smirk that you were starting to think was just the permanent state of his face. “I kind of liked the novelty of it. It’s not very often that your kind comes right to me, instead of the other way around.”
What the fuck did that mean? Did he mean not wealthy people? Well, you weren’t the one living in a house that was about to fall down. This man was so strange. “Well, anyway,” you said, “I’ll let you get back to your evening.” You tried to step around him to get to the ice cream case, but he followed you there. 
“What’s your poison?” he asked. You grabbed a carton of Moose Tracks and showed him, before trying to walk away again. 
He kept pace with you. “What’s your name?” he asked.  He stepped in front of you again and looked you right in the eye. “C’mon, tell me your name.”
It fell past your lips without you ever making the conscious decision to tell him. He smiled. All of his smiles were a little mean. “You can call me Ransom,” he said. 
You’d arrived at the self-checkout. You were so ready to get out of there. “Well, okay, Ransom. It was nice meeting you, but I’m gonna check out now. And let you get back to your shopping.” You noticed for the first time that he didn’t have a cart or basket with him. And he wasn’t holding any items in his hands. He could have just gotten there, not started shopping yet, but something in your gut told you it wasn’t right. 
He paused at the opening of the aisle opposite you. “Yeah, I think I’ve found what I was looking for,” he winked, and then turned around and finally walked away.
You tried to suppress the shiver that coursed through you. There was something not right about him. It didn’t matter. He was gone. You paid for your ice cream and walked out the automatic doors–
You were sitting in your car. Something niggled at your brain. You couldn’t remember the walk through the parking lot. That was strange, but you were probably just on autopilot. Plus, you were tired. Exhausted, really. You hadn’t realized just how exhausted you were. There was a twinge in your neck. You tried to stretch it out but the skin pulled a little painfully. You looked at the clock. It was later than you realized. You needed to get home, eat this ice cream, and go to bed.
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That night, you dreamt of a river of blood and you were drowning in it. You woke up choking on nothing.
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In the morning, you still felt tired, but you could hear your parents moving around downstairs, so you got up and got dressed. You put on a T-shirt and jeans, a cardigan, and then found an old scarf that you looped around your neck a few times. 
When you got downstairs, your mom was scrambling eggs at the stove, while your dad read the paper at the kitchen table. He smiled and wished you a good morning, then nodded at your chest. “Is that your passive-aggressive way of telling me to turn the heat up?” He laughed at himself.
“Huh?” you asked and looked down. Oh. The scarf. Was it odd? Now that you thought about it, you weren’t even sure why you’d put it on. It had just felt… important. You didn’t know why. But you also couldn’t take it off. You curled in on yourself, a bit defensively. “I just liked it with this outfit.” 
Your mom came over to the table. “Leave her alone, you,” she said to your dad as she set a plate of breakfast in front of each of you. “I think it looks nice, honey,” she said to you as she sat down with her own plate. “Although, maybe a little warm. It’s cooling down, but it’s not winter yet.”
You fingered the fringe of the scarf self-consciously. “I just like it,” you said, quietly. It was just a scarf. You didn’t know why everyone cared so much.
Your dad was the one to finally change the subject. He shook out his paper as he asked you, “Didn't you go to school with Shannon McCready?”
“Uh, yeah,” you said around a bite of eggs, “She was a real bitch. What? She get arrested or something?” 
Your mom grumbled unhappily next to you about your language, but you barely even noticed because the next thing your dad said was “No, she died a few days ago.”
You couldn’t say what or why, but something inside of you reacted to that. A frisson of fear crawled up your spine. "What?"
"Mhmm, the obituary doesn't say exactly, but it seems like it was sudden."
"Does it say how?"
He shrugs, "Just says natural causes."
"Natural causes? She was thirty-two!" 
He shrugged again and went back to his paper. Your mom blithely ate her breakfast beside you. You couldn't explain why you were so unnerved by this, but something deep inside of you was screaming that it wasn't right. You took a deep breath and tried to ignore it. You barely even knew her. You needed to get logged into work. Focus on something else.
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The workday was long and hard. Your exhaustion only built as the day went on and your mind was all over the place. But you finally made it to the end and triumphantly logged off.
You met Tineka for dinner, just the two of you, at a little place right off Main Street. After you’d gotten settled and your drinks had arrived, she’d looked at you carefully. “I didn’t want to bring it up the other night with David and Robbie there, but how are you doing with everything? Really?”
You sighed. “Uh,” you said, “better than I thought I’d be? I mean, everything feels kind of strange, because I was living this whole life, and I just don’t really have any of it anymore? I mean, I was living in Boston with Andy. We had an apartment, a community. We were gonna get married. And now none of those things are true anymore. None of that is mine. That’s strange. But, maybe not bad. I’m realizing that I was kind of unhappy there. More than kind of. But I couldn’t see it until I was outside of it. And, like, moving back in with my parents, it isn’t ideal, but it doesn’t feel bad right now. If feels OK. If that makes sense.”
Tineka nodded. “I think that makes a lot of sense. And for what it’s worth, Andy was a piece of shit and I’m glad you’re rid of him.” She reached forward, cocktail in hand, to clink your glasses together. All you could do was smile. You really had missed her.
Your seat faced the window, and as you chatted, you watched the sun set over the colorful trees outside. It really was pretty here. This wasn’t a bad place to spend the season. 
As you were finishing your entrees, you frowned when you saw Ransom walk in. He noticed you too, and, waving the hostess away, made a beeline for your table. 
“We just keep running into each other,” he said, once he got to you, that perma-smirk firmly in place. 
"It's a small town," you said, nervously. You couldn't explain why this man triggered your fight-or-flight instincts so terribly. You were being ridiculous. He hadn’t done anything. “Oh, uh, sorry. Ransom, this is my friend Tineka. Tineka, Ransom.” 
Tineka looked between the two of you, open curiosity on her face. “How do you know each other?” she asked.
 “New friends,” Ransom supplied. “We just can’t help bumping into each other.”
He didn’t seem to want to talk about where you’d met. That was his business, so you just nodded along.
He stood there for a moment, in a way that was too confident to be awkward, but still had you feeling a little uncomfortable. Tineka, bless her, had the social skills you just couldn’t pull together at that moment. “It’s packed tonight,” she said. “You’re welcome to sit down with us, although we’re probably leaving soon,” she gestured to your nearly empty plates.  
“Thank you,” he said, “I think I’ll take you up on that.” He winked at you as he took the empty chair next to you. Something about it, about him, made you have to look away, focusing on your plate.
“So,” Tineka started, and oh no, that was her casual interrogation tone, “are you from around here? This town is small enough that I’m always surprised when I don’t already know someone.”
Ransom chuckled. “Sort of. I used to have family here, but I haven’t been back in ages. Just in town to collect some things and then I’ll probably be on my way again.”
You could feel him looking at you. His attention was always so much.
“Well, that’s too bad,” Tineka said, giving you a sideways glance you knew meant trouble. “We’re only just getting to know you.”
He laughed. “Well, I’ll admit, I’ve found more here than I expected.” He stretched his arm out and briefly rested it against your chair back. His fingers brushed you between your shoulder blades and you couldn’t help the way you shivered. He dropped his arm back into his lap. When you turned to him, he was looking at Tineka, but you could feel his attention still on you. 
“You said your family’s no longer in the area?” Tineka kept probing.
“No, they all passed a while ago.”
“I’m sorry,” you said softly. 
“Don’t be,” he said. “It was no great loss, trust me.” There was a darkness in his eyes when he said that that had you swallowing nervously.
“I guess it’s the season for homecomings,” Tineka said, then pointed at you, “she just moved back too.”
He grinned knowingly at you. “Is that so?”
“Mhmm,” she said, pointedly. “Recovering from a shitty ex.”
“Tineka!” you hissed, but all she did was laugh. 
“Well,” he said, working his jaw, and you would swear it almost came out as a growl, “I bet he’ll live to regret that.” You couldn’t explain it, but at that moment, it felt like a threat. Which didn’t make any sense. He didn’t know Andy. He barely knew you. But the most disturbing thing was the little thrill that rushed through you at the thought. 
While you were having your mini-crisis, he stood up abruptly. “You know,” he said, “it really is busy in here. I’m probably better off getting dinner somewhere else. And I’ve intruded on girls’ night enough.” He then looked right at you and said, “I’ll be seeing you.” That, too, felt like a threat.
As he left, Tineka looked at you excitedly. “He’s hot!” she said, too loudly considering he hadn’t actually exited the restaurant yet. You hissed at her, but she batted it away. “And he’s clearly into you. Seems like the perfect opportunity to fuck Andy out of your system.”
“Oh my god!” you exclaimed and looked to the front to make sure he’d left. “You don’t think there’s something kind of unsettling about him?” 
“What do you mean?”
You paused to figure out how to put it into words. “I don’t know, sometimes, just the way he looks at me, I get this chill down my spine.”
She laughed, delightedly. “Yeah, that’s called ‘he wants to fuck you!’ Seriously, this is good. Great, even!”
“I don’t know,” you said. You couldn’t shake the feeling that something was going on that you just didn’t understand. 
She sobered and looked at you seriously. “Listen, you deserve this. After all that shit Andy put you through – the women. It’s time for you to get yours. I don’t care if it’s Ransom, or Robbie, or whoever, but you deserve this.”
You rolled your eyes. “It’s definitely not going to be Robbie.” You couldn’t even imagine that.
“Ok, fine!” she said, throwing her hands up. “Then it should be Ransom!”
You laughed. “Ok, Tineka. Sure.”
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A little while later, you left the restaurant together. On the sidewalk, Tineka asked, “Did you walk here?” You nodded. “Do you want a ride home?”
You shook your head. “No, it’s not far. I’m good.”
“Are you sure? It’s just so dark.”
“Unless this town really changed while I was gone, I’m pretty sure I’ll be fine. Thanks, but I want to walk.”
“Ok,” she said, but she seemed hesitant. 
You rolled your eyes and she backed down. “Hey,” you said, pulling her into a hug. “This was really fun. I love you.”
“Love you too,” she said and pulled away, starting to head back to her car. “Think about what I said about Ransom!” she threw over her shoulder.
You laughed and started walking in the opposite direction, back to your parents' house. 
A few blocks later, when you were off the main street, you stopped when you heard a noise behind you–
You were half a block further down now. You looked around, confused. What just happened? How– The pain in your neck was back. It was on the other side now, and worse. You were so tired. A little dizzy. You walked as quickly as you could the rest of the way home.
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You dreamt again that night. In this one, you sat in the middle of a large field. The sun shone down on you but you were sobbing uncontrollably. Your tears were made of blood.
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You slept through your alarm the next morning, only waking when your mom came in and shook you. You were exhausted still, even though you’d slept a solid nine hours. Maybe you were coming down with something. Even though you had no other symptoms.
You went through your dresser three times until you found your one turtleneck. It seemed important.
Work felt impossible. Your focus was non-existent. You just wanted to lie down. 
Late that afternoon, when Robbie texted to see if you wanted to grab a coffee, you logged out early. You weren’t going to get anything else done anyway. Caffeine sounded helpful.
When you met outside the coffee shop, he asked, “Is coffee still ok? I know it’s getting kind of late in the day. We could do beer instead.”
You shook your head. “No, coffee’s good. I’m trying to cut down on how much I drink.” You stopped. You were? When did you decide that? Why? You shoved down the not-right feeling that was crawling up your throat. It was fine. It was good. Healthy. It was fine.
Robbie raised his eyebrows when you ordered a triple espresso, but didn’t say anything. It helped some, but you still felt sluggish. And you struggled to focus on the conversation. 
“Are you doing okay?” he asked after about half an hour.
“Yeah, sorry,” you said, trying to shake your head clear. “I’ve just been a little off the past few days. Probably just everything that’s happened catching up with me.”
He nodded. “I heard about all that. I’m so sorry. I’m here to listen if you ever need it.”
You gave him a genuine smile. “I’m fine, really,” you said, “but I appreciate it.”
A few minutes later, as you were trying to decide if you’d been there long enough to politely make your excuses and go home, he said, “Oh, do you remember Alex Higgins?”
“Uh, I don’t think so?” The name didn’t ring a bell, but you weren’t sure if that was because you didn’t know them or whatever was going on with you.
“He was a few years ahead of us? Friends with my brother?” 
You shrugged and shook your head.
“Well, this won’t mean much to you, then,” he said, “but he died a few days ago.”
Not right not right not right, your gut said. “How… how did he die?” you asked, terrified of the answer without knowing why.
“They don’t know yet. They haven’t been able to find anything wrong with him. They just found him collapsed outside, I guess.”
You white-knuckled it through the rest of your coffee.
Afterward, you lost over half of your walk home. When you arrived, there was another bouquet of almost black roses on your front porch.
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Things began to disintegrate quickly from there.
Over the next week, you kept losing time. Ten, fifteen, twenty minutes, sometimes even more. Once you started paying attention, you realized it was only after the sun went down. But knowing that didn’t seem to help.
There were more nightmares too. There was the one where you were being chased through the woods by something unseen, under a blood-red moon and the trees came alive to trap you. Or the one where you were back at the Thrombey house and it was on fire. The skies opened up, but instead of rain, the clouds poured down blood. The strangest one had Ransom in it. Blood flowed from his mouth as he choked you with his scarf. They all started to blend together after that. Blood. Pain. Terror. 
Even with the nightmares, you slept like the dead. But that didn’t stop you from waking up exhausted every morning. You called in sick to work multiple days. You stopped seeing Tineka or Robbie. What would have been the point? You couldn’t concentrate on anything. You could barely stay awake. And every time you went for a walk in the evening, to try to get some exercise and clear your head, you lost time. Something was very wrong and you didn’t know what to do.
The one person you did see was Ransom. He often seemed to be out and about at the same time you were. The fear you felt for him was still there, but you couldn’t deny that you were drawn to him, too. When he was near. you could feel the chaos that had taken you over the last week finally quiet down. You still lost time with him, but it didn't seem to matter as much. Nothing seemed to matter as much when you were with him. Even if you still felt the instinctual urge to turn around and run away whenever you saw him.
Compounding your troubles, the roses just kept coming. Every few days, another bouquet appeared on your porch. You still had no idea who was sending them. It had occurred to you that maybe it was Andy, trying to fuck with you. As much as you hated him now, that just didn’t seem like him. But you couldn’t think of anyone else who would do it either. You barely even knew anyone in town anymore.
For a reason you couldn’t articulate, you didn’t say anything about any of this to your parents. You couldn’t hide it from them though. They may not have known exactly what was going on, but they knew there was something. You overheard them one night as you came down the stairs to get a glass of water, their low tones coming from the living room.
“She is not okay,” your dad was saying, “and we need to stop acting like she is.”
“She’s been through a lot,” your mom said. “If she wants space–”
“Look at her!” your dad said, trying to keep his voice quiet, but the emotion still came through. “The time for space is over. I think we need to start talking about professional help.”
As quietly as you could, you ran back up the stairs. You weren’t that thirsty.
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You spent the next two days in bed. When your mom came in to check on you, you told her you had the flu.
On the third day, you woke up feeling clear-headed for the first time in ages. You were rested. You hadn’t had any nightmares. The fog seemed to have cleared from your brain. When you bounced downstairs and greeted your parents, the relief on their faces made you want to cry. Your work day was the most productive you’d had since you’d arrived at your parents’ house. You finally felt like things were going to be ok.
That night after dinner, you decided to celebrate your good mood with snacks. You got in your car and started driving to the grocery store.
When you parked, you looked up. You weren’t at the grocery store. You were in front of the Thrombey house. You burst into tears. No no no. How had you gotten here? Why was this happening to you? As you were about to put the car in reverse and go back home, the front door opened and Ransom came out. So instead, you got out of the car.
“Trespassing again?” he asked, that smirk always on his lips. Like there was a joke that only he knew about.
   “I’m sorry,” you cried. “I’m sorry. I don’t know how I got here, I don’t know what’s happening!”
He came down off the porch and walked over to you. He gently brushed a tear off your cheek and looked you in the eye. “Poor little rabb–
You were sitting in your car, parked in front of your parents’ house. The sun was coming up. How? The last thing you remembered, it was evening. It’d been hours. So many hours. The entire night. You let out a frustrated, guttural cry. You checked your phone, certain there must be so many panicked calls and texts from your parents, but there was nothing. Looking further, you found a text from yourself to your mom, telling her that you were spending the night with Tineka. Had you? Was that where you’d been? You thought about calling Tineka to check but one of two things would happen. She’d be confused as to why you couldn’t remember that you’d just left her house. Or, she’d tell you that she hadn’t seen you in days. Both options seemed equally awful and impossible to deal with. You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself, and looked up at the front door. In front of it, was an ornate, vintage vase, filled with roses, so deep red they were practically black. No. Absolutely not. You started your car again and pulled back out onto the road in a flurry. This was one mystery you might actually be able to solve and you were going to do it.
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The only dedicated floral shop in town didn’t open for another two hours. That was fine. You could wait. You sat in your car as long as you could stand it, and then when you grew too antsy to bear, you got out and paced in front of the storefront.
As soon as the door was unlocked, you were inside the shop, frantically looking through all of the roses.
“Can I help you?” an employee cautiously asked from behind you. 
You spun around. “I’m looking for black roses.”
“Oh, uh, so, roses don’t actually come in true black. The closest is a really dark red that looks almo–”
“Yes, I know that!” You interrupted. “That’s what I’m looking for!”
“Well,” they said, a professional curtness in their tone now, “we don’t carry them. You’d have to do a special order.”
That was actually good news. It’d narrow down possibilities considerably. “Can you tell me who’s been ordering them?”
They looked confused. “Like, ever?”
“No! Just in the past two weeks!”
They took a step back. “We haven’t had anyone order them recently.”
You shook your head wildly, desperation taking over. “No, that’s not true! You’ve been delivering them to my house! I just want to know who’s sending them.”
Another employee came out from the back and eyed you carefully.
“Please,” you said, sounding pathetic even to your own ears. “You have to tell me who it is. I have to know.”
“We haven’t had any orders like that,” the first employee said firmly.
“No!” you shouted. “Please just tell me. You have to tell me!”
“Ma’am,” the second employee finally spoke up. “I think it’s time for you to go.”
You stopped and looked around yourself. Another customer had come in. They stood by the door and stared at you. Everyone stared at you.
“Oh my god,” you whispered. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
The first employee looked deeply uncomfortable, but the second just folded their arms and gave you a hard look.
“You’re sure?” you asked. “You really haven’t had any special orders?” You felt a few tears fall down your cheeks.
“Ma’am, if you don’t leave, we’ll have to call the cops.”
You took a deep breath and nodded. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” You left as quickly as you could, trying not to look anyone in the eye.
Once outside and away from the floral shop, you found a bench and sunk down on it, trying to pull yourself together. What was happening? What was wrong with you? 
You heard someone across the street call your name and you looked up to see Robbie rushing toward you. He dodged a few cars and then stepped up onto the sidewalk. “What’s wrong? Are you ok?” You started sobbing at that, unable to hold anything in any longer. He sat down on the bench next to you and tentatively put his hand on your back. He said your name again, softly. “Can you tell me what’s wrong?”
You shook your head. “I think I’m losing my mind,” you choked out. “I don’t know what’s happening. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
He was rubbing gentle circles now. “Tell me what’s happening. Maybe I can help.”
So you did. You told him about losing time and saying things you didn’t understand, being so tired all the time you could barely get out of bed, the nightmares. He listened quietly to everything and when you were done he just nodded for a moment, then said, “First thing, I think, is that you need to see a doctor.”
You shook your head. “No, I can’t.”
“Listen, I know it’s scary, but I don’t think this is going to go away on its own. This could be a brain tumor or something. You really need to get it checked out.”
“You’re not listening to me,” you growled out, surprised by how upset you were, and how quickly your mood had changed. “I can’t.”
“Ok,” he said, putting his hands up in front of him. “I’m sorry. I’m listening. Why can’t you?”
“I just can’t!” you said, standing up. You were jittery. You needed to move.
Robbie reached out a hand, and quietly said your name again, clearly trying to calm you down.
You couldn’t stop shaking your head. “I just can’t, okay? I just can’t. I can’t. I’m not allowed!”
You both froze. “What–” Robbie stopped then tried again, shock clear on his face. “What do you mean you’re not allowed?”
You didn’t know, exactly. You just knew it was true. No doctors. Absolutely not. “I have to go,” you said and turned abruptly to race back to where you’d parked your car. Robbie called after you the whole way.
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Your phone buzzed at you the whole drive home. Robbie. He wouldn’t stop. It continued all day. He was worried about you, his texts and voicemails told you. What you said had really freaked him out. Was someone hurting you? He just wanted to help. You hid in your bedroom and buried your phone in your laundry hamper. You could still hear it buzzing away, but it made it easier to pretend that you couldn’t. Finally, sometime after dark, it stopped.
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It started ringing again in the morning, just as insistent as before. You dug it out of your dirty clothes, ready to tell Robbie to just forget what happened and leave you alone when you saw that it was Tineka, and she was calling for the third time.
When you answered, at first you just heard her crying. “Tineka?” you asked. “Are you there? What’s going on?”
“Robbie,” she sobbed, and for a moment you thought maybe he’d talked to her, told her who knows what, but then she continued. “Oh god, Robbie. Robbie’s dead.”
A chill whipped through your entire body. “What?” you breathed. Just yesterday– No. Your mind went to all the people you’d heard about since you’d gotten here. The vague reasons, the shrugs given as cause of death. A pattern you’d refused to see until this moment. You had to know if he was part of it. “Tineka, how did he die?”
“Oh god,” she sobbed, “It’s so awful. I can’t– His throat. It was ripped out.”
You felt time stop. Distantly, you could hear Tineka still talking. Going on about animal attacks, coyotes and bobcats, maybe something escaped from a sanctuary or private owner. You couldn’t explain it, you didn’t know why – you obviously didn’t know anything – but you knew deep down in your being that this was because of you. Something was happening.
Without saying anything, you ended the call and left your phone on your bed. You didn’t get dressed, still in the leggings and oversized t-shirt you always slept in. You moved through the house as quickly and quietly as you could, not bothering to stop to look for your parents. The only things you grabbed on your way out were your coat and your car keys. 
As you started driving away, you didn't really have a destination in mind, but once you were about halfway there, you realized that you did in fact know where you were going now. Of course, you did. There was only one place to go. One person to see.
As you pulled up in front of the Thrombey house, it struck you that you’d never seen it in daylight before. The way the sun shone down on it almost made it more eerie. It should not be here, in this daylight world. It was a relic of the night. You shook your head at yourself. Your thoughts had become so strange lately.
You waited in your car. He always heard you and came out, but this time, nothing. You looked to the little driveway at the side. The beamer was there. So where was Ransom? After several minutes of waiting, you got out. You went up to the house, ready to pound on the door until he came out, but stopped at the porch. You could clearly see now how the wood was rotting, the holes that were already there. You couldn’t risk taking a single step onto it. You didn’t know how he came in and out this way.
You looked around, there must be another way in, maybe on the side of the house. As you walked around the corner, you came up short. Lining this side of the house, hidden from the front, was a beautiful, neat row of rose bushes, in such a deep red they were practically black. No. No no no. It couldn’t be. But of course, it was. You were so stupid. So blind. You fell to your knees beside them. It had all started here, at this house. You could clearly see that now, finally. Whatever end came, that would be here too, so you laid down, and you waited. There was nothing else to do.
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You didn’t know how much time had passed. You were pretty sure you’d dozed in and out. But at some point, the sun had gone down. Once it was fully hidden beneath the horizon, you heard the front door open and footsteps come around the side of the house.
Ransom crouched down next to your head, his hand gently brushing the hair out of your face. “So you know now,” he said.
It wasn’t a question, but you still shook your head. “No,” you said. “I don’t know anything. I don’t understand.”
He nodded and stood up. You sat up, almost like there was a string in your chest, connected to his. “You know,” he said, looking up at the house. “Ransom is my middle name. I’ve always gone by it, but when they reported on everything that happened here, they used my first name, so that’s the one everyone remembers.”
Of course. “Hugh,” you breathed. “You’re Hugh Drysdale.” You were as sure of it as you’d ever been of anything. Nothing made sense. Everything made sense. He nodded, pleased. “How?” you asked. Hugh had been roughly your age when the fire had happened and he’d disappeared. Almost 50 years ago. The man standing in front of you didn’t look a day over 35.
He crouched down again, so that he was level with you, so that you could clearly see his face in the moonlight. So that you had a perfect view of the fangs that dropped down.
You gasped, wanting to scoot away on your hands, but you stayed pinned in your spot. “No, that’s not– You can’t–” You took a deep breath and gave yourself the courage to say the word. “Vampires aren’t real.”
He threw his head back and laughed. It was wild and loud and cruel. “Come on now,” he said, “I know you aren’t that stupid, sweetheart.”
As you tried to process this, you realized it didn’t actually matter how any of this could be real. There was only one question you actually needed an answer to. “Why did you do this to me?” 
He grinned at you, mean as ever. “Because you came right to me, little rabbit. How could I resist an offering like that?” Tears started to run down your face, and he cooed at you, collecting a few with his finger. “I’ll admit, at first, I’d just planned to drain you, leave your body beside the grocery store for some teenage employee to find the next day.” He smiled at the thought. “But that first taste. You have no idea how good you taste, baby. It couldn’t just be a one-and-done. It was as easy as anything to put you under a little thrall. Compel you to forget when I fed on you, make sure you didn’t let anyone else know. The plan was to snack on you while I was here, and once I had everything I needed, I’d bring you with me, keep you as a little pet blood bag until I was bored and done with you. And torturing you was so fun. It made having to be here so much more bearable. But as I broke you down, brought you to your weakest, it made me realize that I’m desperate to see you at your strongest. See you surging with power.”
There was something in his words, in his eyes, that filled you with panic. But also something else. Want, you were terrified to admit. “What does that mean?” you whispered.
“It means you’re mine, baby, and I’m going to keep you. Claim you. Forever.”
It was the last word you fixated on. That was the word that meant everything. That really said what he meant. You took a deep breath, trying to get the crying under control. “And if I let you do that, this will all stop? I’ll be ok again?”
He chuckled. “Sure, honey. If you ‘let’ me do it, it’ll all stop. You’ll get your mind back. The thrall will lift.”
“And if I don’t?”
He tilted his head to the side. “If you don’t, you’ll still be mine. I’ll just make it hurt. Your friend Tineka sure has a pretty neck. Maybe I’ll rip it out, just like I did to your other little friend. Or your parents. Blood is kind of like wine, you know, gets better with age.”
“No, no, please,” you begged.
“Then give yourself to me, right now.” He leaned forward into your space and you fought the dual urges to pull away and to close the distance completely.
You took a deep breath and blinked the tears away. Your torment would stop. Things would be better. Your family would be safe. “Okay,” you whispered, “please. Please, Ransom.”
Without further ado, he pulled you into a bruising kiss, both hands tightly gripping your face, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth. He gave you no choice but to sink into it, his fangs still dropped, occasionally nipping into your lips. When he pulled away, you were left gasping for breath. 
You had no time to recover before he was pushing back on your shoulders and then slipping his hands under your knees to tip you onto your back. You held yourself up, as much as you could, on your forearms, unable to look away from him. Mesmerized by him, as always. He pulled on your leggings until they ripped in two and tossed them away. He crawled between your knees and then did the same to your panties. You cried out at the sting of the elastic breaking. He smoothed a hand over you, fingers moving through the thatch of soft curls, and growled “Just perfect.” Then he lowered his face to your cunt and slowly dragged his tongue along the length of it. You finally gave in and let your upper body fall back, tossing your head to the side, your hands grasping for purchase in the dry grass beneath you, as he worked you over with his mouth. Little mewls escaped you, beyond your control. You wanted to deny how good it felt; he was a literal monster. He had killed countless people. His own family, in this exact spot where he now defiled you. But you couldn’t think about that right now. You couldn’t think about anything other than his mouth on you, the rising heat in your core, the grass under your hands, the twigs poking into your back. The one thing outside of this exact moment that your brain briefly flashed to was Andy. How he had never felt like this. Never given you this. In his own way, he too, had wanted to drain you dry and then he’d left you with nothing to show for it. His promise of forever had turned out to be empty. With Ransom, you knew that word meant something different. Meant something more. Something real.
Your mewls had turned into soft little chants of “Please,” and “Ransom,” over and over. As you reached your peak and were just about to go over it, he removed his mouth from you. You cried out in frustration and lifted your head just in time to see him turn his and sink his teeth into your thigh. You screamed at the pain. The way it mingled with the intense pleasure you were already experiencing, along with the constant fear you’d been in for the past weeks had you hurtling over the edge. You came harder than you ever had before, your body spasming through it, tears rushing down your face, wetness pooling between your legs. Ransom drank from you all through your orgasm and the aftershocks. As you were finally coming down, he released your thigh, quickly licking up the blood that had dripped down your leg. He reached up to your face and grabbed your chin, forcing eye contact as he viciously bit into his own wrist. He brought his other hand to the back of your head, grasping it firmly, and then pushed his bloody wrist into your mouth. You flailed, instinctively trying to get away, but his hard grip wouldn’t let you move. You choked as his blood filled your mouth. Your eyes were wide, hands wildly trying to release his hold on you.
“Just drink,” his voice filled your consciousness. “Drink. Take it all, sweetheart.” At some point, your body gave in, no longer struggling, trying to dislodge him. You took what he gave you and swallowed. “Good girl,” he cooed as you continued to drink. “Good girl.” You grasped his wrist, latching on with your mouth, suddenly desperate for more. Blackness was gathering at the edges of your vision. It started gradually and then quickly overtook you. The last thing you heard before you slipped into the darkness was Ransom’s chuckle.
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You gasped for breath as you rocketed up to a sitting position. You could hear everything. The birds on the roof of the house. The wind moving in the trees. The ants in the ground beneath you. You could feel everything. The hair on your arms, standing straight up. The grass growing in the ground. The electricity in the air. The one thing you couldn’t feel was your blood flowing through your veins. It was still. You knew it was. But something was pumping through you. Power. You gasped again to feel it. You could do anything now. You were sure of it. You’d been so weak before. But now. Now nothing could beat you. With that power was also the most intense hunger you’d ever felt. You needed something, right now. You needed everything. You needed to feed, you needed to fuck, you needed to drink.
A familiar chuckle interrupted your thoughts. You looked up to see Ransom standing above you. That mean smirk that was always on his face. “Oh little rabbit,” he said, “we are going to have so much fun.”
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Don't Touch Me, I'm a Real Live Wire
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boxofbonesfic · 17 days
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Title: 𝙳𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚕𝚐ä𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛 [6]
Pairing: Dark!Ransom x Reader, Lloyd Hansen x Reader
Summary: Your husband’s twin brother has always made you uncomfortable, and after two years of marriage, you finally find out why. 
Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Possessive Behavior, Stalking, Kidnapping, Basement-wife, Gaslighting, Manipulation, Breeding kink, Smut, Darkfic, Dead Dove: Do not eat!
Word Count: 3,776
A/N: whew. okay. we’re back, we’re updating, and we’re getting back on track. i think the motivation behind the madness is becoming a little clearer. or at least, more clear. i hope you all enjoy, and as always, comments and especially reblogs are always appreciated. ❤️ divider by @firefly-graphics​
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It’s your wedding day, again. 
  You remember the soft white satin of your dress like it was yesterday—only it’s today, isn’t it? How can something happen again if it hasn’t happened yet? You look down at your hands, where the lacy sleeves of your wedding dress loop gracefully around your thumbs—your nails are picked raw and bleeding. You look back up at the mirror, and your own distraught face stares back at you. 
  I don’t want to get married. 
  No, that isn’t right—this is a good day, a happy day, why don’t you want it anymore? There is knowledge that dances just out of touch as you stare fuzzily at the mirror in your bridal suite. Something is wrong, but you don’t remember what it is. The mirror fragments, each component folding away as the world tilts on it’s axis, wood flooring becoming red carpet strewn with rose petals. 
  You stand at the altar, the priest beaming at you. 
  You will take him won’t you? As husband, husband and wife—Ransom splits in two like a cell, and both of them hold your hands so tight the bones creak and hurt and—
  “I love you, Princess, Sweetheart, Darling, Mine—” One voice, two mouths, one person, two bodies. You don’t realize they’re pulling until you tear, splitting right down the middle  like you’re made of tissue paper. too. Pulling you to bloody pieces as they repeat oaths of husbandly devotion. 
  My wife.
  MY  WIFE.
  You wake up in darkness, your heart pounding in your chest. It disorients you, and you blink, expecting the cloud to clear from your eyes but it doesn’t. Immediately your hand goes to your stomach, and your frantic heartbeat calms just a fraction as you rest a hand on the gentle swell. The thoughts in your head are still an anxious jumble. Ransom, Lloyd, the party—
  God, the party. 
  Your stomach churns as you recall Lloyd’s cruel smile. 
  Tell him. Tell me what he says. 
  You clap a hand to your mouth as an anguished sob threatens to escape. Ransom, Lloyd… where had they taken you? You frantically feel your way to the edge of the bed, your feet slipping a little on the cool tile as you stand. 
  “H-hello?” You call out into the darkness, but there’s no response. Trembling, you begin taking short, halting steps forward, your hands outstretched. “P-please, someone—fuck!” You curse loudly as your foot catches the edge of something, a table, a chair, you can’t tell. “Answer me!” 
  No one does. 
  You wander forward blindly until you reach a wall, and, feeling along it, you feel plaster turn to glass. You gasp, frantically dragging your hands along the surface until feel something—a switch. You flick it up, and there’s a sound like whirring gears. The lights don’t come on, but something else happens instead: the blackout shades on the other side of the thick pane of glass begin to lift, light creeping in underneath the edge. It’s blinding at first, spots dancing in your eyes as you throw a hand up to shield them, but after a moment, they adjust. 
  You see… a beach. 
  An empty beach. 
  The clear blue water comes straight up to the window like an aquarium. There are no people on the pristine, white sand—no one to hear you as you frantically beat your palm against the glass. Frantically, you turn around to take stock of the room, grabbing for a nearby chair. You knock over the little coffee table in the sitting area next to you, but you don’t care. It takes all your strength to heft it above your head, screaming as you slam it into the glass—
  But nothing happens. It connects with a dull thud, the treated wood splintering as it cracks. The window is unharmed, barely even scratched. An anguished wail tears from your chest as you throw everything within reach that you can lift, beating everything into splinters until you’re left panting and sobbing in the wreckage. 
  “Sweetheart you know that really isn’t good for the baby.” You whirl around frantically, grabbing for the leg of a chair you’d broken into kindling against the indestructible-fucking-window, brandishing it threateningly. You hadn’t even heard the sound of a door opening—in fact, as you stare, wide-eyed around the room, trying to pin down his point of entry, you can’t seem to find a door at all in the lavishly decorated suite. 
  “Fuck you!” You snarl at him, your lip curling. “Let—let me out of here!” Ransom clucks his tongue at you like you’re an errant child.
  “You’re a smart girl, Love. You know I’m not going to do that.” 
  “You can’t fucking keep me in here—” Ransom shakes his head. 
  “I can, Sweetheart. And I’m going to. We’re going to.” He casts a disparaging look down at the ruined chairs and table by your feet. “Lloyd did tell me not to put the good stuff in first—I underestimated your temper.” The casual remark makes you want to swing your makeshift bat at his head. “He designed it for you, you know. I thought we could just lock you in the basement, but now that I see it, I think this is better.” 
  “You’re a monster.” You’re crying, hard, hysterical sobs that leave your throat raw and aching. He actually has the gall to look hurt by your insult, his face crumpling as his mouth presses into a thin, angry line. 
  “A monster that loves you. That would do anything to protect you—even from yourself.” Your body seizes with fear as he crosses the room in a few easy strides, gripping your shoulders with furious hands. You whine as he squeezes, pressing harder and harder until you drop the scrap of wood you’re holding. You don’t know this Ransom, this maniacal, cruel man wearing your husband’s face, your husband’s ring. 
  “Do you remember what it was like when we got together?” He asks. Ransom shakes you a little, like he’s trying to jog your memory. “Living at home with your parents, helping them with every single bill because you were terrified your sister was going to graduate high-school on the streets—”
  “So what?” You spit back. “What the fuck does that have to do with anything?” 
  “I gave you everything.” For the first time you see the same possessive madness in his eyes you’d seen in Lloyd’s. “And you think you can just walk away? Take from me until you’ve gotten your fill? That’s not how this works, Sweetheart.” He releases you and you stumble away, clutching yourself. He straightens his shirt, smoothing back the errant hairs that have fallen into his face. 
  “We’re going to give you such a good life, Sweetheart. You just have to trust us.” 
  “I will never trust you again.” You growl the words at him like a threat. “I hate you.” And then, inexplicably, he’s your Ransom again, his blue eyes soft as he looks at you, like he knows something you haven’t yet come to accept. Like an adult admonishing a child for fears they’ll soon leave behind as they grow to accept the way things are—the way they always will be. 
  “You won’t always.” His eyes flick down to the destruction you’ve wrought, and he clucks his tongue. “Maybe I’ll talk to Lloyd about bringing in some new furniture for you, if you’re good.” Ransom’s handsome mouth curves up into an amused smile. “Maybe something a little heavier.” He kicks at a piece of the table, before making his way back over to the other side of the room. A door the same color as the wall opens at his touch. 
“Lunch in an hour.” 
   True to his word Ransom returns with Lloyd in tow, a tray held in his large hands. You’d waited for this moment with a dark sort of anticipation, and for a brief moment, their stunned, angry expressions as the door panel slides open fill you with a sense of profound pride.
   You’d done your level best to destroy everything that wasn’t nailed down,  methodically and systematically taking apart everything you could get your hand on. Even the mattress lies ruined, feathers and wood splinters littering the torn cover. Though the mirror had refused to break—and indeed proved too heavy for you to lift—you feel a smug satisfaction in seeing what you had been able to accomplish with jagged pieces of plywood.  
  Fuck you. 
  Lloyd steps in first, squatting down to inspect a piece of the smashed coffee table. 
  “I told you we shouldn’t have put this stuff in here first. Empty room, Ransom. You always have to start with an empty room.” His eyes flick up to yours, and he smiles softly—affectionately. “Hi, Princess.”
  “Go to hell, Lloyd.” Ransom steps fully into your room then, shutting the door gently behind him before setting the tray on the windowsill. He sighs. 
  “I know it was stupid to hope your attitude had improved in an hour, but stranger things have happened.” He glances back at the tray. “You should eat something, Love. It’s been four days of—” His words become a static drone as the panic begins to set in. Four days? I’ve been out for four days? The questions fill your head almost faster than you can process them. Where are you? Your parents, your sister? What happened? 
  “What is this? What is this fucking place?” 
  The pride in Ransom’s eyes makes you want to vomit. “We made it for you. Just for you. It took—how long, Lloyd?” 
  “A year, give or take.” He rubs his fingers along the growing stubble on his upper lip. “And then finding staff…” He pauses. “The hotel, or just the Room?” The way Lloyd says room makes it sound singular, important. You cannot help but gape at them
  “You’re sick—both of you. Y-you—what you did to me—” You shake your head. “A-all of this.” You gesture at the room around you. “For what?” Lloyd threads his fingers together, and you can hear the soft metal click of his rings tapping against each other as he does. 
  “I know you’re not deaf, Princess. It’s for you.” 
  Cold trickles down your spine. You’ve been doing it ever since you woke up, running through each moment in the past four, five and cataloguing each one you couldn’t make make sense. You’re doing it again now,  thumbing back through the index cards of your memories and finding empty slots. Thanksgivings, Christmases, Easters—Ransom had told you it had been a year, but you can’t trust that, you can’t believe him, not after everything.
  “My family won’t let you do this sick fucking shit, you know that.” You spit. “They’re not going to let you kidnap me—”
  “How much is Nathalie’s school, Sweetheart?” Ransom asks, cocking his head. “Per year.”
  “What?” The question throws you off, the freight train of words in your throat piling up messily on your tongue. “What are you—”
  “How much is her tuition?” He repeats it slowly like you’re having trouble understanding him. You bare your teeth at Ransom as you grimace. 
  “I don’t know. She has a scholarship. What the fuck does that have to do with anything?”
  “It’s $63,000.” Ransom gives you the figure so matter-of-factly it’s like he rehearsed it. “Per year.” Your stomach sinks, like your body knows before your head. “What, you didn’t know? No one ever reads the paperwork, do they, Lloyd?” He glances at his brother over his shoulder. “What’s it say on the checks? T. H. B. Inc., doesn’t it?” He licks his lips. “The T stands for Thrombey, Sweetheart.” 
  You almost want to laugh for the insanity of it all—you even try, but no sound escapes your tight, dry throat. Lloyd nods. 
  “Same as the ones your father gets. Funny how his company’s picked up these last few years, isn’t it?” 
  Your fists clench and unclench as you sit there on the floor, staring up at them. There’s nothing left to destroy, nothing left to break except the two of them—and you already know how that ends. Instead, you’re forced to sit there, hot rage coiling in your chest as the realization dawns cold and cutting—
  Your family is already bought and paid for, even if they don’t know it. 
  “I never asked you for this.” You spit, nails biting into the meat of your palms as you press angry fists against the cool tile. “I didn’t ask you for fucking any of this!” 
  “I promised to make a home for you, didn’t I, Sweetheart?” He squats down in front of you, his hand out like he wants you to take it. “A good husband provides.” It isn’t supposed to feel like being cut into a thousand pieces to hear his wedding vows regurgitated like this. His gaze drops to the ring still on your finger. You hadn’t noticed it until he did, and as he watches, you rip it from your finger with a violent twist, and throw it at him. He actually looks upset at this, a hint of his earlier rage passing over his features like a cloud. 
  You hate the way it makes your gut wrench because you want him to fucking hurt. It’s like your body hasn’t realized yet just who he is—who they are, and it makes you even angrier. You turn away, loose nightgown bunching under your thighs as you turn to face the wall instead. 
  “Leave me alone.”
  “Not until you eat something.” You aren’t sure if it’s Ransom that speaks, or Lloyd. You press your eyes shut and bite your lips to shutter the angry, frustrated wail that threatens to leap from your throat. “That’s not good for the baby.” 
  Good for the baby.
  Good for the baby.
  Good for the fucking baby.
  You want to hate it now; the child growing inside of you, even if only to spite the men standing behind you. But you cannot bring yourself to—and you hate that too. 
  Shame is not a new feeling, not for you, but it feels new today as you pick apart the plain chicken salad sandwich they had brought for you. Assume it’s drugged. You hate yourself as you tear off chunks with stiff fingers, forcing your mouth open and swallowing it down with a grimace. Assume everything is drugged. When you’re finished, you drag the back of your hand across your mouth roughly, tossing the tray at Lloyd’s feet. 
  He doesn’t pick it up. 
  “Good girl.” You shiver. It’s involuntary, and you know he sees it, the way his mouth twitches with the urge to lift into the smug smile you know so well. “Your wish is our command, Princess.”
  Ransom bends to pick up the ring wordlessly, and follows his brother out of your room. 
  —
  They don’t come back that night.
  You watch the sky outside the glass wall of your prison turn dark, and then brighten again with stars as you sit huddled against it, hugging your knees to your chest. You’re exhausted, but you can’t sleep. Your body won’t let you, jerking you back to wakefulness as soon as your eyelids start to droop. The thoughts won’t stop coming either, cycling through on a loop you can’t seem to stop. 
  I wonder what Nat’s doing. 
  I wonder if they’re worried about me.
  I wonder what Ransom told them.
  You want to pinpoint the time your life went off the rails but you can’t, you don’t know it. College, perhaps? 
  When you’d met Ransom? Lloyd?
  You drag yourself away from the window after a few hours of staring bleakly out at the empty beach. It feels like too much to hope for that someone would happen by, not with the lengths they had clearly taken to secure you. The comforter bleeds feathers as you drag it to the floor beside the bed, wedging yourself between it and the wall. You know you aren’t safe—you’ve little control over that���but the solid press of concrete behind you makes you feel more secure. 
  It’s what allows you to finally fall asleep, though it is not restful. It feels like you wake every few minutes at every imagined sound, jolting back to consciousness and scanning the still empty room before quickly passing out again. You half expect Lloyd and Ransom to be back, waiting for you to open your eyes but when you finally do, you are still blessedly alone, but for the fresh tray in front of the door. 
  You wait for a few minutes, just to see if they emerge from your peripheral vision, the places in the room you can’t see from your vantage point—but they don’t. Everything is as it was before, the destruction from your earlier rampage still strewn across the floor. It feels surreal. Slowly, you pick your way across the debris and grasp the tray in your trembling hands. You don’t want to eat it, not really, but your stomach clenches and rumbles at the sight of food as you peek beneath the tray cover. 
  It isn’t anything special—another sandwich, a bag of chips, and a bottle of water. You check beneath the styrofoam plate just to be sure, there’s no note, no nothing, and you cannot help but wonder when they’ll be back. They’re messing with your head, you know they are—and you hate that it’s working. You’re rattled, upset, anxious—just how they want you. 
  The urge comes again to pick up the largest piece of anything you can find and smash it against the window until it breaks. 
  We made it for you.
  Your stomach churns with disgust even as you take a greedy bite out of your sandwich. How hadn’t you seen yourself and your family waltzing right into the palms of their hands? How hadn’t you noticed? Lloyd had always been overly interested, overly gracious, even after you’d rejected him, and started dating his brother. You’re reminded of Linda’s curt smile and her slickly delivered barb. You tore them apart without even thinking about it. And Lloyd’s admission…
  It was more than a little crush.
  You don’t know how to reconcile the madness simmering behind your husbands eyes with the man who’d held your hands and said his vows. As he’d griped your wrists, staring into your eyes with his own fever-bright, you could barely recognize him. 
  You clean your plate, washing it down with the water before casting another look around the room. It’s blank, empty beyond the few pieces of furniture you hadn’t been able to destroy. No books, no television—nothing. You search the walls near the door panel, looking for something, anything that might make it open, but you find little. The smooth white keyboard does not respond when you push your thumb against the rubbery buttons, and the seam is so narrow you can barely wedge your fingernails into it to try and pry it open. 
  For hours you walk the perimeter of the room, running your hands along the walls, feeling no breaks in the smooth, cool surface. You have to get out of here—but you don’t even know where here is. How far you are from the resort, if you’re even on the same island. As the room darkens, you realize you’ve been pacing for hours like a caged animal, and neither Ransom nor Lloyd has come to check on you all day. Somehow, the thought fill you with apprehension. Not knowing when they might appear is unnerving, and you suspect they mean it to be. 
  You thread your fingers through your hair, tugging on it as you watch the sun sink into the sea, a panicked, claustrophobic feeling rising in your chest until you realize you aren’t breathing. You can’t stay here like this, you can’t—
  Before you realize it you’re running for the door, beating your fists wildly against the panel. 
  “Let me out! Let me the fuck out of here!” Your frenzied wailing rings in your own ears. It’s like you’re numb to the pain as you swing with all your might. You’re aware-even if only dimly—of the fact that your fists will be sore and aching later, bruised and beat to a pulp but you don’t care. Not if it gets you out—not if it gets you away from them. 
  “Ransom! Ransom let me out! You can’t fucking keep me here! You can’t!” 
  Nothing happens. The door doesn’t budge, and there is no answer to your increasingly panicked demands. You scream for hours. Until you’re hoarse, and your trembling fists ache to raise above your shoulders. Still, you bang your open palms against the panel as your firm insistence becomes a stream of nonsense pleas. 
  “Please, please don’t do this, if you l-loved me y-you wouldn’t do this!” Tears and snot run down your face as you collapse to your knees, exhausted. “Please.” You mumble, curling in on yourself in front of the door. The tears come again, and you don’t even try to stop them, sobbing open-mouthed on the cold tile, your hands fisting in your nightgown. 
  “Please.” 
  You lay there until the room goes dark. 
  —
  “I hate seeing her like this.” The cameras are good—too good. He can see the pain on your face too clearly, hear the betrayal in your voice just a bit too well through the speakers. 
  “You think I like it?” Lloyd asks irritatedly, and Ransom sighs. “She’ll even out soon. If not, you can up the mood stabilizer. She’s cleared for it until the second trimester.” Ransom knows his brother, knows that’s his version of comforting reassurance. “Besides, you’re the one that decided to play keep-away.” 
  Ransom looks at the camera again, at your softly moving shoulders. He’s both thankful and irritated at the hair covering your pretty face—but at least it blocks the sight of your tears. As he watches, you shudder—like you’re still crying, even in your sleep. 
  “I know. We have to make her grateful. For us.” He says, still looking at the screen. And he does. He understands the necessity of it—it was his plan, almost more than Lloyd’s. “I still hate it.” 
  “I don’t anticipate she’ll keep it up more than a week. Two, tops.” For the most part, Ransom has seldom ever found himself envious of his twin, but now he felt his lip curl with irritated jealousy at Lloyd’s confidence. “Don’t worry little brother,” he grins. “Our Princess will love us again.” He turns back to the cameras. “I’m sure of it.” 
To be continued…
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Thank you for reading! Please check out my masterlist for other, similar works, and follow my library blog, @box-of-bones-library for updates. ❤️
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shadeysprings · 6 months
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No Good in Goodbyes
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—Ransom Drysdale x Mature!F!Reader
Summary — Ransom makes it known why breaking up with him is wrong.
Warnings — noncon, car sex, age gap (reader is older than Ransom), Ransom is Mean. There may be more that I forgot so I ask that you read with caution.
A/N — Another TBS writing challenge, with Ransom as our man. I do ask you to be gentle as this is the first time I've written him. This is also a wip I have so this is a sneak peek for y'all.
As always, your feedback is highly appreciated and your reblogs would be amazing. And of course, I hope y'all enjoy! ❤️
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Grabbing onto the leather seat, you bite down on your tongue to stifle your cries as Ransom roughly fucks you from behind. You thought the timing would be right to tell him of what your daughter said, that dating someone her age would only sully further the family name.
But to even think Ransom would be understanding of your situation, that he would respect your decision was something you never should have expected. Especially now as he takes you shamelessly in his car, parked just outside your daughter’s apartment, rethinking the affection he’s shown for you. 
“What makes you think you can leave me just like that?” He snarls and you gasp as he rams his cock deep into your core. “No one leaves Ransom Drysdale. Especially not some old woman like you.” His words pierce deep into your heart, making you cry but more so from the brutal pace he sets as he thrusts relentlessly into your cunt. 
“Ransom—! Stop!” You beg, but he refuses to listen. Anger rises in you that you try to push back but he simply pushes a hand against your head, burying it against the leather seat of his car. “I hate—” But the words never leave your lips as he grabs you by your neck and yanks you back, making you face him. 
“Go no. Tell me you hate me and see what that does to me.” He threatens before giving you a sinister smile and claiming your lips with a sloppy kiss.
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imyourbratzdoll · 1 year
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𝒃𝒆𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒍𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒃𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉
I thank @royalsweetteaa for coming up with this and putting the idea into my head, and I hope you all enjoy it.
summary - you shouldn't have gone for a swim that day, especially when a giant merman is lurking for a little human to breed and keep.
warning - smut, dubcon, inter-species, slight drowning, slight somno, breeding kink, dirty talk, slightly dark, slight kidnapping.
18+ only please, the gif and headers I use aren't mine.
Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.
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You arrived at the beach, and headed over to the sand, finding a secluded, comfortable spot to place your things before stripping from your clothes, revealing a small green bikini with tiny white flowers. You overlook the half-man, half-fish in the water, watching you strip and stretch, smirking as you head toward the cold, salty water, closer to the danger that lurks beneath the water. You merge into the water, slowly walking in and deeper. You let out a deep sigh as you dunk your head under and come back up, feeling refreshed.
You feel your body relax, floating on your back as you bask in the sun, enjoying the fresh water crashing softly against your tiny form. Your eyes are closed, and you aren’t aware of your surroundings. A squeak escapes you as you are suddenly pulled under. You are too busy struggling from the lack of air and the sudden fear that you don’t notice your bikini bottoms being yanked off. Once you’ve managed to get your bearings, you quickly swim back to the top, gasping for air as you look around, frightened, fearing a shark has grabbed you. Not knowing there is much worse lurking beyond the waters, as you try and keep yourself afloat, your legs rub together, and you feel you no longer wear your bikini bottoms. Your brows are furrowed as you look around and wonder. Your gaze lands on the piece of clothing floating a few metres ahead of you. Confused and curious, you swim out to grab them, not wanting to leave the water naked from the bottom below. 
When your hand grabs the flimsy material, you shriek as you feel something brush up against your legs. You clutch your bottoms to your chest, freaking as you look around, finally noticing how dark and cold the ocean actually looked and how lonely you really were. No one was on the beach or in the water. You were alone and probably close to death. You don’t see the merman beneath you, staring at your core with a smirk as he feels his cock harden. Ransom licked his lips and swam closer, wrapping his large webbed hands around your legs and yanking you underneath the water. 
The water swallows your scream, and your eyes sting from being open in the salty water. You stare wide-eyed at the giant man-like thing, gasping as you begin to swallow water, freaking out. Ransom huffs, rolling his eyes as he brings you back to the surface, annoyed as you cough and make a scene trying to breathe. As you huff and fill your lungs with as much oxygen as you can, a squeal escapes you, feeling something large and ribbed rubbing against your lips. You take a deep breath as your yanked back under the water, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you are impaled by something. 
Ransom groans, holding you down against him by your hips, thrusting deep and hard inside your tight cunt. “You’re such a whore, going for a swim in slutty clothes and getting fucked by a merman.” He smirks, knowing you can’t understand him, but he loves to watch you struggle against his throbbing member. His long, dark blue, scaly tail swishes behind him as he pounds into you, holding you tightly against him as he glares down at you with his pretty blue eyes. “You like being stretched out by my cock? Barely being able to breathe as I pound into you?” His hand wraps around your throat and squeezes, limiting your breath even more than before, grunting as he feels you squeezing him.
You feel intense pleasure coming from your lower half and pain coming from your chest as you struggle to breathe. His large hand gripped your hips as the other cut off your airflow. Your vision was becoming black as he kept you both under the water, his hardened member plunging deeper and harder inside you. You gasp as he finally lifts you above water, oxygen entering and filling your lungs as he pounds into you, holding you close to his chiselled body.
You take a deep breath before he pulls you back under, taking you apart. Your eyes screw shut with the pleasure his ribbed cock gives you, reaching the deepest parts of you that no man has ever reached. The member is curved, hitting your g-spot perfectly, your back arched, and you don’t notice him smirking at you or his slitted eyes staring down at your exposed neck. You feel your chest constricting as you run out of air, your head becomes fuzzy, and your cunt clenches around his enormous cock. 
Ransom grins, showing off his sharp teeth. He watches you begin to run out of air, feeling your walls go crazy around his cock as he leans down and bites into your neck. No one can hear your screams before you pass out from the lack of oxygen and the intense pleasure. Ransom grunts, and you clench tightly around him, causing his cock to sink deeper inside of you. His balls tighten as he begins to twitch wildly. His hands grip your body, pulling you tighter against him, releasing his thick cum into you, thrusting until he feels you spasm around him, your juices squirting out and entering the ocean. Ransom grins darkly, swimming to the surface, not waiting for you to wake or catch your breath as he takes you to his cave. He rests you above a rock and strokes your cheek. “You’re mine now, forever, little human. I hope you’re ready to carry my children.” He chuckles, slowly moving into the shadows as he watches you begin to wake. 
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thank you for reading!
feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.
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royalsweetteaa · 1 year
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Ransom Drysdale
Masterlist
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Series
Good intent - dark!Ransom Drysdale x homeless!reader
Ch. | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | (complete)
Summary: Ransom is going through a mid-life crisis where he’s miserable and he wants to change things up to make his daily life more interesting. The change involves taking the freedom of someone who he deems is beneath societal suitability.
One-shots
Hearts behind bars - inmate!Ransom Drysdale x prison psychologist!reader
Summary: Your new job as a psychologist at a men’s prison goes better than you first excepted. All of your clients are well behaved, - particularly one gentleman being the infamous murderer of his grandfather’s housekeeper - Ransom Drysdale. The two of you become a little too fond of each other, and Ransom catches feelings for you. How do you manage this forbidden relationship?
Misreaders - soft!Ransom Drysdale x gf!reader
Summary: You deny Ransom physical affection you used to give him all the time after overhearing him complaining on the phone about how clingy and annoying he finds you.
Sweet red velvet - soft!Ransom Drysdale x menstruating!reader
Summary: You go through your period for the first time in yours and Ransom’s relationship.
Capital of needs - bratty!soft!Ransom Drysdale x housemaid!reader
Summary: You’re Ransom’s housemaid and you get to learn more about the trust fund manchild from a different perspective as you earn a place in his heart.
Short-shots
Love in the makings - soft!Ransom Drysdale x gf!reader
Summary: Ransom is feeling extra soft and passionate one morning.
Addicted to your voice - Ransom Drysdale x gf!reader
Summary: Ransom is horny and seeks reader for relief virtually.
A little help - Dark!Best friend!Ransom Drysdale x naive!innocent!reader
Summary: Ransom decides to use his best friend’s naivety and innocence when he can’t hold himself back from desiring her anymore.
Keep calm - soft!Ransom Drysdale x PTSD!reader
Summary: Reader goes through yet another PTSD trigger late at night, and Ransom has to handle it.
Inevitable ends - Ransom Drysdale x reader
Summary: You finally break away from Ransom’s clutches.
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shotgunbunny · 1 year
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“But daddy I love him.” with crybaby! reader aka defending Ransom to your father and the soft kisses and sex afterwords and him saying how proud he is of you. Maybe he also makes you cry more bc he just loves your tears.
✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧
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WC:2k+ GIF by forchrisevans
I love love love this sm! I'm making this a dark ransom Au where he's a writer that's supa rich <3 A/n: I literally felt so bad for the dad in this fic why did I make the dad so sad man.
(Warnings!! Dark!Ransom!! Mentions of murder!! Smut!! Soft! Ransom!! tiny bit of angst!! Dirty talk!!)
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You were excited for tonight. You were finally introducing you boyfriend to you parents. You weren't nervous as Ransoms cocky ways and charming nature eased your fears. He always had a way with words, maybe that's why he became a writer. You had tried to read one of his book before he pried it from your hands and began talking about how you wouldn't like the book, and because you loved him you trusted him.
You were absolutely oblivious to the fact that every book he wrote was centred around you. He wrote story after story about how after follow the woman of his dreams he finally had her and now he had to kill anyone who stood in his way. Half of his fans loved the books and the other half was terrified of Ransom and researching that all his girlfriends guy friends had died.
You sighed and stretched your limbs out on the king sized bed at Ransoms house. You turned and laid on him, drawing lazy flower patterns onto his chest. He looked at you softly, soaking in the attention you were offering him. "Ran?" He let out a deep hum before he brought his hand up to card through your hair. "Are you nervous for tonight?" He looked down at you and flashed you his winning smile.
"Not one bit baby, everyone loves me. Luckily you're the only one that has my love in return." And if they didn't love him, he'd set up there death as a car accident and sweep you off your feet into his house. He was ready with so many options so he wasn't nervous or scared. Instead he was curious to see what your parents reaction would be.
"Come on flower we best get up and get ready." You shook your head and settled firmly on top of Ransom. He chuckled at you and sat up. You clung to his shoulders and wrapped your legs around his waist. He slid his strong arm under your ass and stood up looking down at you and kissing your nose softly. "Hmm I thought you were my flower but you're actually just my koala." You giggled and stretched your legs out. He placed you down gently, kissing you sweetly one last time.
Ransom headed towards his walk in wardrobe and pulled out the famous white cable knit sweater. He looked kinder in this, more homely. Soft as you'd say. You smiled at him and he smiled back at you. He pulled his pants on and you pulled on your little black dress that Ransom adored. It wasn't too short, it was just right. He stared at you doped up on his love for you before he attacked your face with kisses.
You felt so safe in Ransoms arms while he rained kisses all over you. And just like that all your potential worries disappeared into the night.
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Ransom pulled up into the large gravel drive way and flashed you a smirk. He was used to snobby driveways, after all he stemmed from a rich family. You both got out and Ransom tutted at you mumbling about how he wanted to open you door for you like a gentleman. You both closed your doors and Ransom hurried over to you, holding your hand as you began walking to the front door.
You pressed the door bell and it was immediately opened by your mother rather than one of the house cleaners. You smiled at her and you beamed at you, and the glanced at Ransom. "Come in both of you! Dinner has just finished being made!" She rushed off and you looked at Ransom. He looked down at you and pulled your hand which was interlocked with his, up to his face where he placed a tender kiss on your knuckles.
You both took your shoes and coats off and you led him to the dinning room. Your mum was hurrying around playing plates down all the while your father sat still until he moved his head and stared at Ransom. Beside your dad was one of Ransoms book. You were so happy your dad had read some of Ransoms works, surely he'd like him.
Whilst in Ransoms mind he knew he was completely and utterly fucked. The look in your fathers eyes and the glimpse of the folded pages in the book proved that he knew that Ransom was not everything he seemed. Ransom could feel his heart hurt a small bit, he knew that when the 'accident' happens you're gonna weep your little heart out and it will be all because of him. And for a split second, Ransom wished that there was another way instead of that but there wasn't. So he swallowed down the heart ache he'll suffer and sat down at the table.
Your father stared at him while your mother and you chirped happily about you day. You began digging into you meal as did you mum, both of you still nattering oblivious to the staring match between your dad and Ransom. He flashed him a gentle smile, a peace treaty almost, and began digging into the meal. "This is absolutely amazing Ma'am." Your mum blushed and thanked him.
As you were all dining your dad finally spoke, still staring at the sick bastard in front of him. "Hey honey, have you ever read any of Ransoms works?" You looked up and blinked noting the angry look burried in his eyes. "No, they're not my kinda thing." You turned to look at Ransom and flashed him a smile which he returned.
"Well you should honey. There's this one character in here that's exactly like your old friend. And he died the exact same way as he did." You dropped you fork and stared at your dad. Shocked that he would ever bring that up let alone try and claim Ransom had something to do with it. "Why would you say that?" Your dad turned his harsh glare towards you.
"I know you're not the brightest honey, but he's a goddamn sociopath! He's insane! I don't want you seeing him anymore!" You stood up shocked by your dad's behaviour, Ransom stood up too and left the room, he began getting his shoes and coat on when he heard your cries. He peaked around the corner and saw tears streaming down your face. "But daddy I love him! He would never hurt me! And he knows that if he hurt anyone I loved, it would hurt me! So how can you even suggest that!"
Ransom felt his heart hurt, he remembered holding you everynight while you were grieving your friends. God knows how much it would hurt when you had to grieve your parents. God he would do anything to avoid that outcome. "How stupid are you?! He's a murderer! He killed your friends claiming it was a sick and twisted version of love!"
You swallowed down a sob and bit back at him for these insane accusations. "I never want to see you again! You won't get an invite to our wedding or meet your first grandchild! Not until you apologize to the man I love!" You dad scoffed, tears in his eyes yet he was holding back. You mother was openly weeping. The pause lasted too long cementing your choice in choosing Ransom. You walked out and bumped into him. He hugged you and you got ready and left.
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The second you were in the bedroom, Ransom was kissing you, softly sweetly. Every part of him was gently. Even as you began undressing each other, he treated you delicately. Not wanting to illicit tears, not yet. Because they'd be sad tears, not tears of ecstacy.
He kissed along your legs, allowing his hands to gently trail up your thighs before they splayed out on your hips. He moved his head up, and blowed along your wetness. Adoring the little flutter of your hips and the breathy moan that escaped your pretty mouth. He licked gently, slowly. Torturing you yet he was appreciating your taste, trying to put it into words. He went back for a second taste before he centred on your clit, he moved his hands then. Dragging one down towards your hole with a feather light tight before he plunged one finger in and then another. His other hand trailed up taking a breast in his hand.
He looked up and saw the beauty that was you, your head tilted back while moans escaped you like a desperate song. He flicked your nipple before he began gently circling it with his thick digit. While you were preoccupied with the stimulation of your nipple, Ransom plunged another finger into you before he pulled away completely.
He felt the need to be even more submerged in this moment of pleasure with you. He leaned down and captured your lips in his. Holding you close towards his body. You felt him move his tip up and down your slit, you could feel his precum mix with your own wetness. He stopped and places his cock against your hole. He stared down at you as if you were the world itself. "I love you so much." And with that he applied pressure and his cock slipped in with a pop. He slowly pushed down until he was fully settled in you.
You caught your breath after Ransom knocked it out of you by entering you. You stared at him and pressed you lips together, completely enthralled by him. By his declaration of love. He slowly began thrusting and pulled away, allowing for your shallow breathing to sink. "My angel, you did so good for me. Defended my name. Defended me. God you are worth every ounce of my love and more. Fucking perfect tight pussy. Was made for me by the Gods." You felt tears gather in your eyes at his words. He began thrusting faster.
His slid his hand down and began to circle your clit, watching with pride blooming in his chest as your tears slide down your face. You were embracing the ultimate pleasure of his cock and the result was something so beautiful that he couldn't even fathom how you weren't worshipped. He leaned down and licked your tears before pressing his forehead to yours and watching more tears stream down your face.
"Fuck you're so good to me baby, so fucking good. This pussy treats me so well too. Fucking grips my cock so well. Would worship this cunt, would worship you. So good baby."
He couldn't help it he took his hand away from your button and instead wrapped it around you throat, fucking you with vigor over the sight before him. Tears streaming down your face, his hand tight around your throat and your breasts bouncing. "Fuck! My little crybaby, you look perfect like this. Need this in a picture. Fucking beautiful. You deserve to be fucked like this baby." He leaned down and licked the tears off your face all the while holding your throat tighter making your face slowly bloom red over the lack of air flow. "Fuck it looks like you're crying diamonds. I'll get you a diamond, get you one for your dainty finger." He leaned down and placed a soft kiss on your lips.
Before he pulled away and squeezed tight on your throat and began pounding you so fast that it took only 5 thrusts before you convulsed on his cock and bucked you body up desperate to be free from his hands yet also enraptured in your orgasm. Ransom came seconds after. The tightness of your cunt and the beauty of you was enough to push him past his limit. His hips stuttered and he came, some of it inside you before he pulled out and coated you in it. He pulled his hand off your throat, embracing truly how amazing you were.
You laid catching your breath just barely recognising Ransom getting you water and a towel to clean you up. After that was all done he got in bed and you cuddled with him. Your head on his chest while his arm held you protectively. "You did so good for me baby, I'm so proud of you." You batted your eyelashes at him, utterly soft for his praise. "I did?" He smiled and kissed your forehead. "Absolutely my love, I'm so happy baby because of you. I'm gonna put a ring on you, that's how proud I am of you." You giggled and cuddled closer into him. "We'll see bear." And with that you fell into a peaceful sleep.
Ransom grabbed his phone and cancellation off the plan of the 'accident'. Instead he would wait for your dad to crack under the pressure. Especially when everyone else in the family got a wedding invite except him. Ransom was happy truly, there would be no more blood on his hands and now he could focus purely on you.
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lifeissomethingelse · 10 months
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Look what you have done
Summary:Your are Harlan’s favorite maid however you damage one of his books, “luckily” Ransom comes to the rescue…..for a price.
Pairing:Dark!Ransom x Maid!reader
Warnings: Blackmail, Free-Use, Smut, oral, dub-con,non-con, cursing, Degradation, Dominant! Ransom
shit. Shit. SHIT!
You stupid bitch!
You cursed yourself as you try to pick up the soiled draft of harlens new book that you spilled ink all over trying to clean his desk.
“I’m fucking fired, so fired! Fuck!” You thought trying to savage the soiled pages of literature covered in a Black Sea of ink.
You hands began to turn black while your thoughts race about the about of debt you have, the amounts of bills still unpaid, your mothers hospital bills, your fathers funeral bills. You needed this job like you needed air AND. YOU. FUCKED. UP.
Tears start to fill your eyes when you hear the sound of the door fly open. The worst possible person stepped into that door: not Harlan. Not Marta. The one and only over prevliged, asshole Ransom with his famous shit eating grin on his face.
Your eyes widen with shock, there is no way you can talk your way out of this.
His cold eyes look at your ink covered hands and ruined pages of Harlan new book draft.
“Well.Well. Well. What do we have here” he said while slowly closing the space between us. He broad larger frame hovering over me.
Shit. He was like a loin that found a deer with a broken foot. Helpless little prey.
I wipe the tears from your eyes and you watch his cold stares at the mess you made, he makes a exaggerated whistle of distressed.
“Harlan was actually really proud of this…..to bad his favorite maid fucked it up”
Your face brightens with anger, but the smartest thing to do in this situation for you, for your family…was beg. “Please…don’t tell. I-I beg of you, I need this j-“
His figure touches your lips and cuts you off.
“I’ll say it was me.” You heart starting beating fast.
Then it dropped as he continues to talk.
“He can’t fire me, worst case I would get one of his famous lectures”
“But in return….”
His large hand suddenly grabs your waist, causing you to feel his large hard-on against your thigh. You squirm as he finish his sentence.His eyes become dark like he sees through you…at that moment you became his possession.
“You ever heard of free use?”
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That was it. That’s how the got in this postion: on your knees taking out ransoms large hard on.
His large hand pushes your head down as he explains from this day forward your his personal fuck toy. You reluctantly fall to your knees, ready to take your punishment or blackmail. You look up at him. “Asshole”
He grabs your hair tightly making you whimper from pain.
“Watch your fucking mouth and suck my fucking Cock. Or. I. Tell.”
You look into his cold eyes, wanting to get it over with you swallow you pride and start to take his cock out, when he tugged again.
“No. Use your fucking teeth. “
You bite his silver zip and start to pull it down, you then use your teeth to pull down his pants, then his boxers. Your eyes widen. Fuck…
His throbbing member“accidentally” slaps you in the face. It’s long,thick and pulsing full of want.
He laughs as he sees pre-cum smeared on your right cheek.
“Suck it. Or I fuck your throat until your pass out”
You start to lick the tip then down the side of his shaft. Ransom moans in pleasure, putting his head back and gripping your head tighter.
To your own disgust and confusion, you cunt begins to drip.
You swirl your tongue at the tip and begin bobbing your head. You lower your head until the tip hits the back of your throat. “Fuck!”
To your disray ransom starts to roughly fuck your throat with no mercy. All the air in your lungs disappear as ransom takes over your body. Worse…you start to feel closer to your own pleasure. His lewd words made it worse.
“ Fuck I knew you were a good cock sucking whore, I own this fucking throat, I own this fucking cunt” “ I can see my cunt dripping right now”” your getting turned on sucking my big fat cock?”” Just imagine how you would be around my cock, even if it’s to much for you, I’ll fuck you so hard you can’t walk for days.”
You moan at his words, causing vibrations to go through his cock.You feel him getting closer to his bliss, your hands now move lower to your clit wanting to reach your own climax. “Don’t you dare touch my fucking cunt” “I’ll tell you when you can cum”
Degrading. Demanding. Possessive.
It awaken something in you that surprises yourself. You give in…submission
Both hands hold your head completely down on his cock, your nose touches his pubic hair. Split and drool run down from your chin to even dripping on the floor.
“Take. Every. Fucking. Drop.”
He makes a loud animalistic groan pushing his cock all the way down your throat, you look at him. Messy hair. Possessive eyes.
You feel a little pride build inside you for making him feel this good, his baby batter shoots the back of your throat. Tears fill your eyes trying to swallow everything.
He thrusts into your mouth a few times until he pulls out of your mouth. You look at him with watery eyes mixed with fear and arousal.
“This means we are even right?” You say with a sore throat. Your eyes widen when you hear him laugh.
Before you can ask him why he’s laughing, you feel him pick up your body slamming it on Harlan’s desk,in the doggy position. You try to move away as you can expect what’s coming next feeling his hot member pressing against your skirt. He holds you down with one hand while the other rips your underwear off. You yelp. He slaps your ass.
“Your a better cock sucker than I thought, I wonder how will your cunt feel around my big cock”
You start to feel the head of his cock pressing against your wet cunt. He slaps it a few times before asking you one last time.
“ are you gonna take this cock like a good whore?”
You bite your lip. You try to deny you like this.
“Yes sir”
“Good your mine now bitch” he says as he thrusts violently into your wet cave followed by a brutal thrust rhythm. You scream in both a mix of pain and pleasure.
“S-o D-ee-P!!”
Items from Harlan’s desk fall as the desk can barely take ransom’s ruthlessness.
“Take it”.
Like you had a choice.
( This is my first fanfic.)
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wildestdreamsblog · 2 years
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All’s well that ends well to end up with you
Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Reader
Summary: You managed to get away from Ransom, but how long will your independence last? (Or that one when you had to face your own feelings)
Warnings: Soft!Dark Ransom, Swearing, Breeding kink, Sexual themes, dubcon if you squint, allusion to drugging. If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.
A/N: and we made it to the end! Forever grateful for the love you showed Ransom and his little kitten! Kindly remember to support your content creators by leaving a comment or reblogging!
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Masterlist, Part 1, 2, End
“There you are,” Ransom heard your small and soothing voice from behind where he was sitting, his head resting on his massive palms, waiting for the world to stop spinning. Ransom would have looked at you, he would have - if only the world stopped spinning for one goddamn second then he could look at you. His best friend in the whole world. The girl he loved so much that it physically hurt him when he couldn’t get to you. Or see you.
Like now.
“What happened? Can you stand?” You asked as you kneeled beside him, gently lifting his head to you. You wanted- no, needed to know that he was okay. You were away for a month, your family visited your grandmother in the country because she suffered a fall. Your parents, ever the loving ones, wanted to make sure that she was going to be okay. And Ransom, despite his insistence and borderline pleading to go with you, was not granted his wish.
“It’s family matter, Ransom. I’m sure you understand, sweetie,” your mother told the young Ransom Drysdale, her hand on his shoulder as she willed him to understand. He didn’t understand why he couldn’t be with you. Why were they keeping you from him?This was going to be the first time that the two of you spent this much apart.
He wanted to make sure it would be the last.
And with great reluctance, Ransom saw you off that morning, his form from the side mirror becoming smaller and smaller as your father drove further, and yet, he didn’t move.
You ran your hand over his cheek, assessing just how high or drunk he was, your hand sweeping his hair away from his face. “Let’s get you settled in your room?” You suggested with a small voice, not wanting his head to hurt any longer. You stood up to open the door, your focus on getting him hydrated and rested. You had only stepped once away from him when you felt his strong hand caging your wrist, and when you turned to look at the young, disheveled Ransom sitting on the bathroom floor, you couldn’t help but felt the pain that he was undeniably feeling.
“Where are you going?” He asked, his voice groggy. “Don’t leave me.”
“I won’t leave you, Ran. I’m just going to open the door for you,” you reasoned.
“You’re not going to leave me again?”
“I’m really not-“
“Promise me. Promise me you won’t ever leave me again,” he ordered you, his gripped on you tightening. But it was the look on his face that told you he needed you more than he would ever admit, that maybe, you were the one keeping the great Ransom together.
“I promise I won’t ever leave you again.”
He woke up with a start. His whole body sweating again, and he was shaking. He had been like this ever since you left three months ago and he couldn’t find you. He could still hear your promise not to leave him, your voice echoing in his mind.
But you did leave him. You promised, kitten. You swore. Now why weren’t you with him?
Tiredly, he rubbed his hand on his face, willing the sleepiness to go away. Not that he had much sleep ever since you left, no. He hadn’t been sleeping right. Just like the time you left him when you were younger, he couldn’t cope right without your presence beside him. He refused to know life without you.
The silence of the house offended him, it had offended him ever since he woke up without you. He searched, and searched, and searched the whole house. But you weren’t there. It was as if you vanished out of the thin air. He had tried calling you multiple times, but you just wouldn’t answer. And it wounded him, not being able to get to you. It wounded him, not being able to hold you. And when an animal was wounded, it became more vicious.
He almost scared Meg when he shouted at her for not stopping you. She saw you leave, kitten, and she let you.
“What was I supposed to do, asshole? Stop her? She’s not a prisoner!”
You weren’t. You were his wife. And it was unacceptable that you would just up and leave the minute he confessed his decades-long love for you. Was his love so repulsive that you would rather leave?Ransom drove around, but still no you. Ransom asked around, your family, your friends, your colleagues, but they claimed not to have seen you.
So where were you hiding, kitten?
His phone made a sound, Joni messaging him again about Meg’s allowance. Ransom scoffed, deleting the numerous messages from his so-called family about their wants and needs.
If Ransom wasn’t happy, then no one else should be happy, too.
And his happiness was still out there, hiding from him. So until then, they would be as miserable as he was.
Another week passed by, and yet still no sign of you. At this point, Ransom had not been in his office for almost a month. Paperworks were mounted on his office by now, board members were looking up to him for direction. Before you left, he would have cared. He wanted to be the man deserving of you. And you, you believed so much that he could be that man that even he believed he could, and so he did. But then you left. After turning his life around, after taking reins of the business, after being the doting husband, you could still not accept his love.
He knew how he depended on you for his survival, he just didn’t know how much he did until you were gone.
Linda strolled in with a huff, her eyes scanning over the once neat house that Ransom and his wife shared, now a startling mess. Shards of glasses from bottle thrown across the room littered the wooden flooring, curtains closed out enveloping the room into darkness, and in the midst of it all was her only son, Ransom, Linda shook her head slowly, thoroughly disappointed with whatever was happening between the two of you. You were inseparable from him, and now you were gone, and he was a mess.
What once was a clean shaven, hair combed back, and formidable man was now a shell of a man sitting on the floor with his leg bent, the other stretched out before him. Ransom’s eye bags were as dark as what he was feeling. In his large hand was the bottle of alcohol he had been drinking, his finger showing the ring that symbolized that he would be yours forever.
If he noticed his mother walking near where he was, he gave no indication. He tended to do that these days, let things passed him by. Funny how he could never do that to you.
“My God,” her elegant voice drawled out as she picked the throw pillow that fell on the ground, a victim of one of his meltdowns, “You, son, are a mess.” She scoffed the last part in disgust before she proceeded to get him a glass of water.
Ransom smirked, “I wonder where I inherited it from.” His voice was gravelly as if he hadn’t spoken in days since you up and left. Linda rolled her eyes before giving Ransom the drink. She watched him for a moment, her memory going back to that day you had to leave him to visit your injured grandmother. Despite his young age then, Linda thought that Ransom must have aged a decade when you left. He was a mess just like now, he missed his classes, he goaded anyone into fighting with him every single day until Linda had no choice but to call you and inform you how self-destructive Ransom was becoming. Linda remembered all too well how Harlan implored her vehemently not to call you.
“He has to learn how to live without her. Linda, that boy’s attachment to her is unhealthy. What will he do if she’s gone?”
His wise words echoed in her mind as she watched her disheveled son. Her father was right. But now, it was too late to change the course of fate. She would see to it that her only son wouldn’t be ruined because of you. She would make sure that Ransom got what he so clearly desired. She would ensure that Ransom would possess the family he had always secretly dreamed of.
You closed the book you were reading, your eyes trained on the movement from the window to the old, elegant lady as she stepped on your walkway, her heels click-clacking as she surveyed the house, her eyes hidden by her humungous shades. You waited until she knocked on your front door, and you knew you had to open it.
If she found out about this country house that you inherited from your grandmother, then it wouldn’t take long before Ransom found you, too.
And you weren’t ready just yet.
You opened the door, and it was as if Linda Drysdale got unburdened by something because she did exhale a sigh of relief. “There you are, dear.”
You watched her take a sip of the her tea, her eyes roaming over the place you had been calling home for three months now. “So this was where you had been hiding,” she commented, her voice lacking the malice it usually had.
“I’m not hiding,” you told her, your hand twisting the dress you were wearing, a telltale sign of your nervousness.
She smiled at you, her demeanor pleasant as she regarded you, “No? Then what are you doing miles away from your husband, dear?” She asked, and you knew she was really curious. You, who was always stuck to the hips with Ransom, surprisingly survived months without him. Linda always thought that the two of you had a weird co-dependency with each other. Turned out, only Ransom had that with you. And you? You could survived without him.
You couldn’t answer, because to do so would uncover the truth behind your marriage. So you stayed silent.
She cocked her head to the side, “Did you finally meet the true Ransom, dear?” You shifted your eyes away from her. Ransom had been nothing but kind to you. But she took your silence as an approval of what she said, “Don’t say I didn’t warn you on the day of your marriage. For what it’s worth, you were the only one keeping Ransom together. And not that you’re gone?” She scoffed and chuckled under her breath.
You frowned, the worry you felt for Ransom intensifying as his own mother insinuated that he was worse, “What do you mean?”
“I’m saying that underneath it all, my son is just a one grownup brat who would do absolutely anything to get what he wants.”
You knew you loved him. You had grown up with him, after all. You loved Ransom. You just weren’t sure if you loved him like the way he wanted you to. And that was what you had been thinking of for the past months. You didn’t know whether what happened that night was just a one, big mistake. You were scared to lose him, but you knew you couldn’t keep him. Not now.
But what Linda said made you want to make sure that he was okay, that he was going to be okay. That old instinctual feeling you had, the one that desperately wanted Ransom to be okay resurfaced. You needed to know he was okay, despite not knowing the way you loved him.
“Is he okay?”
She regarded you for a moment, her face losing all the smiles she flashed to you and only the truth marred her face, “Do you remember what a mess he was when you left to go here?” She didn’t need to hear your answer, your face must have answered for you. You remembered that day. How much he was shaking, how he clinged to you like a little child scared to be left, how he wouldn’t let you leave that night. You remembered it all.
“He’s worse now.”
You decided to see Ransom when Meg called you crying, telling you that Ransom stopped supporting her studies and that even she could not reach him. You felt like you needed to do something, no one should suffer just because of your fallout with him.
Time didn’t mean much to you now. You were discovering life without him, the only constant companion you have had in your whole life. Your parents had no idea what happened, or where you were. The only reason they knew that you weren’t with Ransom anymore was because he went there, demanding to know where you were. You mother was worried, but when you told her you needed this, she backed down. The only thing she asked of you was to at least message her weekly.
Your father, on the other hand, was understandably furious. Not at you, but at Ransom. He was convinced that Ransom did something unforgivable to you that made you finally separate yourself from his control over you. Your father was never Ransom’s biggest fan, in fact, he was harder to convince than Ransom’s own family. Once, before the wedding, you asked him if he didn’t believe that Ransom loved you.
“Of course I believe he loves you,” he grunted under his breath, his eyes watching Ransom who was playing fight with your little cousins. It was sad how he was closer to your cousins than he was to his own. Your cousins light up when they saw Ransom, as if he was the most interesting adult in their world. “Perhaps, that was the problem, I can see he loves you too much.”
To that, you didn’t know how to answer. You didn’t even understand him at that point. Maybe now, you did understand him. Everyone could see what you couldn’t.
And if that was a fact, then what did that make you?
You knew you couldn’t run forever, and your parents taught you better than to run from the face of adversity. You looked down at your feet, still pondering on how to approach this- him. But you knew this had to be done. Meg was counting on you, her education was counting on you.
You punched in the code of the main door, your hand shaking with anxiety.
What if he changed the lock?
What if he didn’t want to see you?
What if he hated you now?
Only when you heard the familiar beeping sound of the door unlocking did you exhale. The house was…dark. All the curtains were drawn shut, you could hear crunching noise from the shards of glasses you couldn’t avoid stepping on, and the whole house just seemed so…cold. It was so unlike before when you arrived home and there would be soft music playing, with Ransom cooking dinner, his white shirt folded to his elbow, a sweet smile on his lips as he embraced you, tucking your head gently under his chin as he ran his wide hands on your back, gently massaging the weariness away. When before the house always had a light on, because he once told you in a fit of vulnerability how he had always hated going home in darkness because it would mean no one was home and he would be alone, now it was just a glaring darkness. No one knew this side of Ransom, behind his arrogant persona, was a person caring enough that plants just grew when he cared for them. Plants just didn’t seem to stay alive with you, but with him, with those large but gentle hands, they seemed to just flourish. You had joked once that you would buy him a plant shop to which he scoffed that he would never sell his plants that he considered his children.
The day you moved in here, Ransom took care of everything. He always did. He always knew how to take care of you. You remembered that day as clear as the sky, his contented smile as he looked at the house the two of you were going to live in, his disheveled hair from carrying the heavy stuff, how the two of you ended up sleeping on the living room floor because your beds were not ready yet.
And then it dawned on you, you didn’t want to experience life with anyone but him.
Holy shit, you were in love with your best friend.
The realization was almost strong enough to knock you off your feet, and with renewed strength, you ran to every room, calling for him as you did so.
You ended up in his room, and yet, Ransom was not there.
Where was Ransom?
You went everywhere trying to find him, called his family asking if they knew where he was, called Linda who only scoffed, ‘Finally,’ went to his office only to find out that he hadn’t been there for more than a month. His secretary looked so relieved to see you.
The sun was setting when you went to your temporary solace, and with a heavy heart, admitted defeat for today.
Your weary legs carried you to your porch, only to discover a car parked in front of your house. You stepped closer, trying to look if someone was in the car when you saw a silhouette of a man hunched over the steering wheel. And with a heavy heart, you recognized your husband.
Softly, you opened the door, the sound making him looked at you. You kneeled down slowly, your hand touching his left hand, your fingers absentmindedly running over his ring, “There you are,” you said, looking intently at his sleep deprived eyes and the tattered sweater you hated so much, “I’ve been looking for you.”
Ransom didn’t know whether to believe you were in front of him, he was second guessing even his own eyes at this point. The way he stared at you could unsettle anyone, but not you. You offered him a small smile, “Can you stand, Ran?”
He was quiet for a moment, he was frowning as if the mere thought of speaking was painful.
“You promised me you would never leave me.”
You had to swallow your tears, because yes, you did promise me. And you broke that promise when he could never break even the smallest promises he made to you.
“I-I’m sorry.”
What else was there to say?
“D-did I hurt you?” He asked gravely, strands of his hair fell on his forehead as he looked down at you. You were shaking your head before he could even finished speaking. No, he could never hurt you. He was so gentle that night, so loving, so giving that it pained you that he thought he hurt you.
“Was I too rough? Were you unwilling-“
“No, Ran-“
“Then why did you run? Why are you still running?” His voice was hard, but his eyes showed you how terrified he was of the thought of physically hurting you.
“Because,” you paused before looking at his eyes that shone with pain and weariness, and love, so much love that it terrified you to no end. “Because, your love terrifies me.”
“Well, kitten. It terrifies me, too. I am terrified of how only you can break me.”
Your lips trembled as the tears you were trying so hard to keep in bay finally fell down your face. You wanted to say how sorry you were to hurt him, how sorry you were to run from the only man who ever loved you wholeheartedly, so much that it could make or break him. You tried to say something, but each time you tried, your throat closed up from trying to keep everything together.
And kitten, even in pain, Ransom was still wiping your tears off of your face. Even when his own heart was breaking, he was still the one comforting you.
He was smiling down at you so tenderly that it broke your heart, “It’s okay. Break my heart, do what you want with it, and I’d still love you.”
“I am scared-“
“What are you so terrified of?”
“I am afraid of losing you. You are my best fri-“
“I want to be more than that. We already are more than that, kitten. You just have to see it. Can you see it? Can you open your eyes for us?”
And when you couldn’t answer, Ransom urged you to go inside the house as the night grew colder. You found yourself seated in your small and dainty dining table, his back facing you as he busied himself with making you hot coffee. He looked back at you, his eyes dark before offering you a small smile. Ransom’s muscular form made the house smaller than it actually was. The steaming mug was placed gently in front of you. You took a tentative sip, and you couldn’t believe how good the taste was. Strangely, the after taste was something that you had never tasted before.
“I love you.” He stated so calmly. He observed you, never taking his eyes rom you. He probably wouldn’t take his eyes away from you for a long time. Not when you were finally in front of him again. “Are you ready to hear that now? I figured, you weren’t ready to hear it then. That’s why you ran, didn’t you?”
You shifted from your seat, squirming from the intensity of his eyes, You always knew that you knew Ransom in all his forms. But now, you couldn’t say that without a doubt. You didn’t know the man who claimed to love you. You couldn’t help but think back on the years you spent with Ransom.
Were there clues you missed?
Were there lingering looks from him that you chose to ignore?
Was there love that shone in his eyes that you were too blind to see?
There must have been. You were just too naive to see it. Or maybe, you were just too scared to understand it. But the thing was, until when were you going to be scared?
“I looked for you today,” you admitted, your hands holding the mug securely, taking comfort in the heat it offered, “And then I realized, I love you. I realized you are the only one I want to go through life with.”
A dark and guilty look passed Ransom’s face, and you didn’t catch it before he schooled it with his calm demeanor.
“I’m sorry for running away. I was scared, and I realized I should have talked about it with you. I’m sorry for hurting you. I left because I felt like I owe it to you to love you back. But it’s not. You loved me even though I didn’t, you took care of me despite the times I loved someone else. I don’t owe you anything, Ransom. I love you because I love-“
And before you could even finish, he stood up, grabbed the back of your head, and kissed you like a man starving, like a man who had not drank water for months, and in a way, he was dying from thirst from all those years of keeping the love he wanted to shout to the world for himself. All those years he saw you with someone else, all those years you chose him over them, all those birthdays you never once missed. You were there.
You didn’t owe him anything. In fact, it was him who owed you for all the love you taught him to feel.
And it was in that sense that he felt sorry for what he did when he thought you couldn’t love him back, when he thought you found his love so repulsive that you would rather leave tonight than be with him.
He was sorry for doing that before he knew you loved him. Since you left him, Ransom had been on the verge of panicking. Not being able to touch you, not being able to know where you were, how you were, who you were with did things to his already possessive and barely concealed caveman attitude that was begging for him to claim you. His desperation for you was like a breathing thing, always in the back of his mind. He felt guilty with what he did, but not enough to stop claiming you in the most basic way possible.
You moaned in his mouth, the taste of his lips felt so unexplainably good, the feel of his warm hands clutching your arm felts so warm that you wanted to just…be with him. You never experienced this kind of feeling, you felt so hot, you felt so needy.
You ached, and you knew only him could clenched your thirst. You needed him more than breathing. You didn’t know what possessed you to push him until he was near your sofa. You pushed him down, and with confidence you didn’t know you had, you climbed on top of him, the dress you were wearing gave you the freedom to part your legs on either side of him. His face was angled up to you, his eyes trained to your needy expressions, the soft gasp you let out when you rubbed your center down on his hard cock. Ransom could only watch so long before he pulled down your dress so hard it ripped in the front, baring your breasts to him.
And he was hungry.
He was licking and sucking your nipples, pinching them in his fingers as he made you felt…more. You couldn’t explain why you were so horny, you just were. And the need for him wouldn’t go on its own, no. You needed him. You needed his cock inside you.
“Yeah? You want my cock, my wife? You want your husband’s cock inside you?” Ransom growled, his dark eyes trained on you as he popped one nipple in his sinful mouth.
You must have said that out loud. But you could only keen when you heard him removing his belt, could only felt more warm when you heard the sound of his zipper, and when you felt the heat coming from his cock, you knew he had you.
“You want this cock?”
Ransom flipped the two of you, and with him on top of you, looming above you with his hard cock standing to attention, you could do nothing but salivate. You were feeling so…hot that you couldn’t stand it.
“Please, baby, please give me your cock-“ you were almost crying at this point. You lifted his sweater from his body, and Ransom helped you. With his muscular body and glorious cock in front of you, his pants lowered enough to reveal his beautiful cock at you, you were a goner.
Ransom thrusted his cock on your stomach, showing you just how deep he would be once he was inside you. You couldn’t help but ran your fingers over the glistening head, and without second thought, you brought your moist fingers to your mouth, tasting his essence.
“Say you love me first,” he ordered at you, his hot breath making you shivered as he licked the expanse of your neck. “Say it.”
And it must have taken you longer to say it, because before you knew it, he was biting your neck, making you moaned harder from the pain and the pleasure he was doing as he rubbed your clit with his thick fingers. You could only hold on to his thick wrist as he expertly played with your cunt.
“I-I love you-“ you moaned as you unexpectedly came so hard that you could feel your cum dripping down your thighs.
“Messy wife,” he tsked at you before kissing your lips passionately, “Don’t worry. Your husband will lick every. Single. Drop.” He was thrusting his fingers deep inside you with each word he uttered.
You closed your eyes as you felt his fingers part your folds, as he leaned down and licked the line of your pussy. And he moaned like a man unhinged. You thought you came hard the first time, but with Ransom hellbent on making you come harder, you stood no chance. By the time he was done, your cream was coating not only his hands, but also his chin.
He smirked at you. You just came.
But you still wanted more.
Why did you still want more?
How could you still want more?
Ransom scooped you off the sofa, he softly asked where your bedroom was and then he beelined for your bedroom. Gently depositing you on your bed, Ransom stripped of his pants. The veins in his arms protruding as he lowered his clothes off his body. He crawled to you, at this point you no longer had the strength, he spread your legs so wide that you had no choice but to accommodate his large body in between them.
Only being supported by his muscular arms, he looked down at you with love and darkness in his eyes, “I’m going to fill your pussy with my cum,” he whispered as he licked his palm before rubbing his cock with his hand, his eyes trained on you as he did so. “Once I’m done, little kitten, I’m going to watch my come drip out of you. And after that? I’m going to fill you again.”
You gasped as he said those words, your pussy unbelievable wet with want. You were being lead on by your emotions and needs, but somehow your brain still worked and reminded you of that one pressing thing.
“I’m not on the pill, Ran-“
“I no longer care. I am your husband. It’s my right to fuck my baby-“ he growled as he aligned himself on your core, his strong arm lifting your leg on his shoulder, opening you wider to his lustful gaze. “In you.” And then he speared you, impaling you on his massive girth.
“We’re going to get married again,” he growled in your ear, your gasps swallowed down by his kisses as he sucked your tongue. Your pussy clenched as he fucked you so deep you could feel him so deep in you.
And you had no choice but to come.
You screamed his name so hard, but Ransom was still fucking you so good.
“Tell me you’ll marry me again!” He panted, his face contorted that of a pleasure but he looked like a general, willing you to follow his commands. “Tell me you love me!”
And you could only scream your yes.
Only when you screamed that you loved him back did his rhythm became erratic, chasing its own release as he slammed faster and harder into you. You felt his release inside you, his warm and life-giving release.
And as promised, he watched the come gushing out of you with wonder in his eyes.
Ransom had you so many times that night, always coming inside you, always looking at you with unrestrained darkness and love. And when the sun started rising, he was looking at you, as if he was traumatized by you leaving him when he was sleeping. When you finally woke up, you found yourself face to face with your husband, no longer running away from the truth and your feelings, his voice soft as he said, “I love you with every manipulative and twisted part of me. I love you the only way I know how.”
And your smile only told him that you accepted his love, no matter how dark it could get.
Meg looked down at the unanswered message to Ransom. ‘Did it work?’
Perhaps, his only answer was the notification from her bank about the thousands of dollars from Ransom Drysdale.
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Three for One 2
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Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, cheating, customer service abuse, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: As a customer service associate, you’re used to work with a wide variety of characters. Your efforts to go above and beyond draw the attention of a certain set of customers who want more than what’s on the shelf.
Character: Andy Barber, Lloyd Hansen, Ransom Drysdale
Note: The ho-lidays are the daddies and the baddies.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me &lt;3
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)
Love you all. Take care. 💖
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You bob around to the tinkling of carols as they waft over the store. Unlike your coworkers, you enjoy the repetitive tunes. They are so fun and bright and help the time pass between customers and stocking. Not that there isn't more than enough to keep you busy.
In the rare moment where you aren't distracted, you let yourself browse the colourful lipsticks and shining perfume bottles all around. You don't have anyone to shop for, not even yourself. You have your dollar store glosses and discount nail polishes. You don't see the need to spend too much on those things. Or maybe you just prefer what you know. Simple and cheap.
Around lunchtime, traffic really picks up. Several customers ignore your approach and brush by you before you can entice them into buying some Chanel. You've already hit your sales targets but you never really think of numbers.
A woman stops you and asks for a very specific palette. You know just the one. You think it's cute, it looks like a cupcake, and while you adore the aesthetic, it isn't worth the price tag. It's just powder!
You show her where it is and Luanne comes over to take the reins. She's the makeup genius, her flawless contour is proof enough. You turn to float back to your zone and see a man watching you. You recognise him! Vaguely. You see a lot of people in a day.
"Good afternoon," you sing as you near him, "anything I can help you with?"
His throat bobs as he cheek ticks, "uh, yeah, er..." he pushes back his gray jacket, tucking his hands in his pants pockets, "you remember me?"
You smile as you try not to show your cluelessness, "I think..."
"I came in last week," he says.
You think, scrunching up your face as you tap your chin, "yes! You bought Liz Taylor for you mother."
"Mother-in-law," he corrects you, not unkindly.
"Yes, that's it," you jab your finger upwards, "you complimented my sweater."
"Yeah, that was me," He finally smiles, "anyway, I was thinking of getting a gift for my wife. Just a little stocking stuffer."
"Oh, that sounds so cute," you nearly squee. You get so excited to help people shop for a loved one. At the same time, you feel that void. Maybe one day you'll have a husband thinking of you. "We have some great gift sets, actually. They come with different scents so you're wife can figure out which one she likes best." You direct him over to a shelf, "oh, and if she has a favourite, you can get her a full bottle for Valentine's!"
He gives you a look. His eyes narrow just a bit and his cheeks round, "that's a good idea."
He glances over the shelf and you wait patiently. He turns back to you, his eyes flitting over your name tag as he reads it out, "do you have a suggestion?"
"Me?" You perk up, "well, I actually like the Coach. It's not too expensive and it's nice and subtle."
"Is that what you wear?" He asks.
"I don't... I use some cherry blossom body spray but I usually smell like the whole store by the end of the day," you shrug.
"Cherry blossom," he nods, "oh, by the way, I'm Andy."
He offers his hand in an overly formal way. You giggle but take it nonetheless. You don't really get that often.
"Sorry," he squeezes your hand firmly before letting go, "lawyer, habit."
"No, it's fine," you assure him, "I'm just a perfume salesman, is all."
"Well, you're really good at your job," he praises.
"How do you know?" You say.
"You're friendly and helpful. I have no complaints," he reaches past you and claims the Coach pack, "she's going to love this. I owe you."
"No problem. Do you need me to ring you up?"
"Actually," he sighs, "she has this idea. Christmas card. I'm supposed to find a sweater. So, I need to look around some more."
"Oh, that's so cool. A Christmas card? The sweaters are just over in the men's, right near the east entrance," you point, "they have some really cute Charlie Brown ones."
"Charlie Brown," he repeats.
"Anyway, I'll let you go," you clutch your hands together, "I hope your wife likes the perfume."
"I'm sure she will," he agrees, hesitantly clapping the kit between his hands, "uh, thanks. Again." He leans back on his heel, "oh and, that's a really nice colour on you."
"Uh," you look down at your gem green blouse, "thank you, sir."
"Andy," he insists, walking backwards, "again, you're a life saver."
You grin proudly and he spins on his heel, nearly knocking into Luanne as she comes over. He apologises as he side steps her and continues on. She gives you a strange look.
"Geez," she grumbles, "people. This time of year makes everyone so crazy."
"Well, he was nice," you say.
"Kinda cute, too," she intones.
"He was shopping for his wife."
"Lucky lady," she scoffs, "so, you wanna go on lunch first? I'm dying for a latte."
"You can go, I don't mind," you say, "I'm not very hungry."
"Deal," she winks, "I'll get you a hot chocolate for your trouble."
"You don't have to do that."
"I don't have to, I want to, sweetie," she preens.
"Fine, fine, I accept your coerced hot chocolate.”
🎀
Another day close to complete. It's like checking off items on a list. Each evening seems to darken sooner than the last, every morning rising too soon.
You yawn at the empty fragrance section as it’s only you left for the last hour. There isn't much to do except balance the till. Your headset keeps you entertained as electronics calls out possible shrink and home goods argue about their numbers.
“We need a body at returns,” Lucille cuts through the chatter. “Now.”
No answer comes and you slowly slide your hand up the wire. Before you can hit the button, your name is snarled from the other end. You're ordered up to cash to assist with the hordes.
You leave the ghost town that is beauty and as good as skip up to the front. You calm your step as you see Lucille sneering at you from behind a machine. You give a tiny smile and claim the extra screen behind returns. 
“I can help the next person,” you call and wave your hand in the air.
You stand back and wait for your first customer. A man comes up and throws a torn open package on the counter, the item bouncing out of the plastic. You flinch and barely catch it before it can slide off the other edge.
“Hello, sir,” you bat your lashes, “how are you today?”
“Not fucking well,” the man snarls. His mustache tickles your memory; do you know him? “It’s a piece of shit.”
“Oh, okay,” you look down at the trimmer and examine it, “you’d like to do a return?”
“Yes, I’d like to do a return,” he snaps, “are you dim?”
“Of course, sir,” you punch in your ID and passcode, “I’ll just get you going. Do you have your receipt?”
“A receipt? I bought the damn thing here, look it up.”
“Ah, alright, when did you buy it?”
“You don’t remember, little trigger finger,” he sneers.
“What do you mean?”
“Pfft, right, you think spraying people with skunk spray is fun?”
“Um, no?” Your cheeks tremor as you withhold a frown; you think you know him now as you’re hit by a sudden wave of Gucci cologne, the scent of a memory. “Did you have the card you purchased this with?”
“You don’t think I have money?”
Everything he says is aggressive. Your questions bounce off him like accusations. You don’t know what to say that won’t agitate him further, He huffs and kicks a foot out, leaning on his back heel as he reaches in his back pocket.
He flicks a black card onto the counter, “put it back on this.”
You nod and take the card, examining the nameless front. You turn it over and swipe it in the machine instead to search the number. He scoffs, “bet you never seen one of those up close.”
“Sir,” you smile bigger, letting the insult ping off of you. All the money in the world and he has no manners.
You find the purchase with the same sku and put his card back on the counter. He snatches it up as you start the return. You scan the barcode and continue on to the next screen, “what’s your name, sir?”
“Lloyd,” he answers curtly. You type, waiting, then look up at him, “Hansen.” He finishes sharply, “with an E, got it?”
“Yes, sir, and the reason for return?”
He rolls his eyes, “it doesn’t fucking work.”
“Alright. So it doesn’t cut the hair or–”
“It won’t turn on,” he growls.
“Right,” you take the trimmer and turn it over. It looks fine enough, even after he threw it. You slip the door of the battery compartment off. It’s empty, “and you had double As in it?”
“Double As?” He repeats.
“It needs batteries, sir.”
He pauses, eyes flaring, nostrils flaring.
“You think I’m stupid? That I don’t fucking know that? You’re not getting free fucking batteries from me.”
“Of course, sir, of course,” you rarely feel this addled, even this time of year, “I’ll get you your money back on a gift card–”
“Gift card? I want my money,” he holds up his card between two fingers.
“Yes, sir, I understand. As per our return policy, personal care items, once opened, are only eligible for a store credit return. Or you can exchange for another item. Would you like to look at our other trimmers? I can put this aside while–”
“What? How would I know that?” He hisses.
“It says on the receipt, sir.”
“I don’t have the goddamn receipt,” he barks.
“I know, sir, sorry. I can only refund this amount on a gift card. I can’t override the option.”
“I want a manager. NOW!” He demands as you jump in your shoes.
“I… I’ll see if she’s avail–”
Lucille has you jumping even more as she appears beside you, no doubt drawn by the raging man in front of you. She elbows you out of the way, not even acknowledging you as she puts on her mask. She leans on the counter just slightly.
“Sir, is there something I can help with? I’m the manager,” she says.
“I want my money,” he echoes once more. “I bought a defective product and I don’t want store credit. I drove out here twice for this bullshit.”
“Oh, certainly sir,” she brushes you with her hip, further edging you out, “right back on that black card, right?”
She scans her keycard, overriding the safeguard, and proceeds to the refund screen.
“Yes, exactly,” he snorts, “not like I don’t have even more money to spend here. Even if the customer service is lacking.”
You back away, unsure what to do. Do you just stand there for the transaction or do you go back to your department? You twiddle your fingers and bob on your heels.
Your eyes meet that man’s and he smirks smugly, wiggly his credit card at you. It’s fine, you won’t let him ruin your day. He’s already ruined his own getting so worked up.
🎀
It’s another busy shift. Your hot chocolate has gone cold from your neglect and you long to sneak away and shove it in the break room microwave. You can’t mourn the lukewarm drink as the line before you stretches on. You’re only a week from Christmas.
You finish wrapping the Prada bottle and hand it over the iron-haired woman with her cute curls. You wish her a good day as she waddles off. The next customer comes up, slamming down a cup so hard, the foam of the drink spits through the slot in the lid.
“Hello, sir,” you croon, “how are you today?”
“Here for a pickup,” he ignores your question.
“Right, can I get a name?”
“Why?” He challenges.
“For… for the package,” you sputter.
“Oh, uh, Drysdale,” he sniffs.
“I saw that earlier. I’m the one who called,” you brighten up.
“So you’re the annoying songbird,” he grabs his drink again, “took you fucking long enough. Line’s a mile long.”
“It’s very busy, yes. Everyone’s catching up on their Christmas shopping,” you bounce, “are you almost done yours?”
“Yeah, I bought myself cologne. So, chop chop, sweetheart.”
You nod and quickly spin. People get so impatient. You go into the small back room housed behind the shelves of lockup and you search the shelves. Drysdale. You pluck up the box and hurry back out.
“Right here,” you announce, “I have good news, too.”
“Tell me you’re gonna stop yammering,” he snickers.
“Um, no, the uh… the cologne is currently on markdown so I can do a price match and give you your money back.”
“Why would you do that?” He asks.
“Er, because… it’s policy?”
“You think I can’t afford it?”
“N-no, I didn’t say–”
“Look, I don’t need some department store busy bee to judge me, got it? This scarf costs more than your whole wardrobe,” he touches the patterned scarf around his neck.
“It’s a very nice scarf,” you agree.
He narrows his eyes, “you’re mocking me.”
You shake your head, “no, sir, I like the colours–”
“Give my goddamn package," he reaches and rips the box out of your hands, “and a tip, shut up and do your job. Maybe then you won’t have half the city waiting to get their shit.”
“Thanks,” you swallow down his anger. “Have a great day, sir.”
He doesn’t reply as he takes his cologne and storms away. You watch him and notice his cup still beside your till. It’s too late to call him back. You’ll just put it aside, you’re sure he’ll come back for it.
You move it to the other end of the counter and face the next customer, “hello, how are you?”
“Good,” the blonde woman answers with a gentle smile, “some people…” she tuts, “don’t let the grinches get to you, honey.”
“Thanks,” you feel the ice melt away, “I won’t.”
“Adorable cardigan,” she adds, “I really love the collar.”
“Oh, thank you,” you trill, “is this everything for today?” You gesture to the bottle of Calvin Klein on the counter.
“That will be it. And I’d love to have it gift-wrapped, thank you, hon.”
469 notes · View notes
krirebr · 3 months
Text
I Can't Sleep, Cause My Bed's On Fire
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Pairing: Dark!Ransom Drysdale x Dark!Female Reader x Dark!Steve Rogers, established Ransom Drysdale x f!reader, past Ransom Drysdale x Steve Rogers
Word Count: ~3.3k
Summary: In Germany, you and Ransom run into someone from his past. Part of the Psycho Killer AU
Warnings: Horror elements, feeding off people, references to mind control, explicit language, group sex (mmf), light degradation, a little past (and present) heartache, a lot of smut- All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI
Divider by @saradika-graphics
Masterlist
A/N: Ahahahaha! Oh god, what have I done????
A HUGE thanks, as always, to @paperweight91 who let me flail all over her about this idea and read so, so much of it and talked me through the panic attack I always have when it's time to write smut.
Please come screech with me about this Steve. I'm so obsessed with him.
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Ransom led you through the crowd by your hand. You lagged behind him as you tried to take in everything around you. People were dancing in cages, their eyes glossed over. There were humans laid out on tables as vampires fed on them. You saw no fewer than five couples fucking. This place was a wonderland. 
While you were still in France, Ransom had heard rumors of a vampires-only club in Germany, so now, after chasing down leads, you were in Berlin. You hadn’t known what to expect from Valkyrie, but this was more than you could have dreamed. No one was hiding here, pretending to be human, pretending to be weak. Here things were in their natural order. Here, even after only a few minutes, you really felt at the top of the food chain. Your fangs dropped in excitement and you let them stay. You were with your people now.
Ransom took you to the bar, pulling you in front of him and resting his chin on your shoulder. “What do you have on tap?” he yelled above the din to one of the bartenders. They placed a narrow menu in front of you, then moved on to help someone else. You looked at the selection of blood, all different types, ages, and diets. Your eyes wandered down to the bottom of the menu. “Hey,” you said over your shoulder to Ransom, “what do you think the Captain’s Special is?”
He went completely still. “What’d you say?” he asked, deadly serious. Without waiting for an answer he sniffed deeply. “Oh shit. We have to get out of here. Right fucking now,” he said as he started pulling you away.
You stood your ground. “What? Ran, no! I wanna st–”
A chuckle over his shoulder interrupted you. “Of all the gin joints in all the world, huh, Ransom?” 
He turned around very slowly to face an impossibly broad man, an inch or two taller than him with golden blonde hair and boy next door good looks. This new man looked about ten years younger than Ransom, but you knew better than to take that at face value. He reeked of power and experience.
“Steve,” Ransom said, cooly. “I thought you were still in Brooklyn.”
Steve shook his head, grinning. “Not for a few decades. It was time for a change.” He gave Ransom an obvious once-over. “You look good.”
Ransom scowled. “Where’s Bucky?”
Steve laughed and shrugged. “No idea. You know how Buck is.”
“I don’t actually.” Ransom said, and you weren’t sure you’d ever heard his voice be so cold. “I only met him at the end there.”
The grin didn’t leave Steve’s face. “Come on, you aren’t still upset about all that? You knew the score going in, Pup.” 
“There were lots of things I didn’t know going in, Steve.”
Steve sighed. “You always were so stubborn,” he said, reaching a hand out to stroke Ransom’s cheek, and Ransom, right in front of your eyes, fucking leaned into it.
Without realizing it, a growl built up in your throat. Steve’s eyes cut to you for the first time. “Oh! And who’s this pretty little thing?”
At that, Ransom seemed to come back to himself. “None of your fucking business.”
Steve wasn’t deterred. His eyes bore into you. You’d never been looked at like that before. It was like he was looking inside you. You felt like he could see everything you’d ever done, everything you’d ever thought. It made you want to cower, but it also pulled you to him.
“Oh,” he said with a slight moan, “she is brand new. What’d you bring me, puppy?”
“I didn’t bring you anything.” Ransom growled. “She’s mine.”
Steve looked back at Ransom at that. “Yours? As in…”
“Yes.”
He looked at you critically. “Very interesting.” He held out a hand to you. “Steve Rogers. Welcome to my club.”
You took it and said your name. He brought your hand up to his lips and laid a soft kiss on your knuckles, then, as he released it, gave you a smile that you could only describe as predatory. “An absolute pleasure,” he said. He took a breath as if to say more when he was interrupted by someone in a club uniform whispering in his ear. He rolled his eyes. “I’ll be right there.” He turned back to Ransom. “I have to take care of this. But you should come back tomorrow night. I have a private room in the back. We’ll be able to catch up.” He glanced at you and licked his lips, then grabbed Ransom by the back of the neck and leaned in to give him one of the filthiest kisses you’d ever seen. Open-mouthed and wet. You could tell, even from the outside, how in control of it he was. It both made your knees weak and your blood boil. You were furious at Ransom for submitting to it. When he was done, he rested his forehead against Ransom’s and whispered, “I’ve missed you, Ran. Come back tomorrow.” When Steve pulled away, he winked at you. Then, over your head to the bartenders behind you, “Whatever they want is on me,” before disappearing back into the crowd.
Ransom grabbed your hand and tugged. “Let’s get the fuck out of here,” he growled. 
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Once you were on the street outside, you pulled Ransom to a halt. “Who the fuck was that?” you shouted.
“That,” Ransom snarled, “was the fucking Captain!” At your blank look, he let out a heavy sigh. “Christ, you’re still so new. He’s a big fucking deal in our circles, ok? He’s a name. He’s known.”
You couldn’t help but laugh at that. “He’s a famous vampire?”
“He’s a powerful vampire!”
“Well, I could obviously see that! It radiates off of him! What I’m asking is, who is he to you?”
Ransom backed himself up against the nearest building and leaned his head against the wall. He closed his eyes and sighed again. “He’s the one who turned me.”
“What?” was all you were able to say. You’d known, of course you’d known, that Ransom hadn’t always been a vampire, that he’d been turned at some point. But he’d never said a word about the circumstances and you honestly hadn’t given it much thought. Him being a vampire was just so natural to you, you couldn’t imagine him any other way.
And then you remembered how you'd felt when you'd first woken up when you'd opened your eyes and seen Ransom standing above you – everything you'd felt about him, the man who'd given you this incredible gift. The idea of Ransom feeling that way about someone else – about Steve – filled you with a fire so intense you wanted to spread it through this entire city, burn down absolutely fucking everything. “How long were you together?” You asked and you could feel how your voice shook.
“Less than a decade,” he said like he was trying to dismiss the whole thing. 
You scoffed. “You say that like it isn't a long time!”
“It isn't! Not to him, not to someone that old. He fought in the Revolutionary War, ok? I was a one-night stand to him.”
“But he wasn’t that to you,” you hissed.
He didn’t say anything for a moment, then, finally, “No. He wasn’t.”
You’d never felt like this before, not even before, when you’d found out everything Andy had been up to. You’d never felt this all-consuming fire, this hate and despair and lust all swirling together. You wanted to put your fist through the brick wall next to you. You wanted to put Ransom through it. You wanted to fuck him right there on the street. It was only the fact that you equally wanted to do all three things at once that kept you from doing any of them.
Like he always could, Ransom read everything on your face, in your body. “I hate him, ok?” he said, reaching out and softly laying his palm against your cheek. “I hate him so much.” He was placating you but you still leaned into it. 
“You want him,” you whined. It was obvious in the way he’d melted into Steve’s touch, Steve’s kiss.
“I do,” Ransom nodded and you growled. He stroked his thumb along your cheekbone to soothe you. “I’ll always want him, just like you’ll always want me and I’ll always want you. There’s something about that bond – when you turn someone. I don’t know, but no matter how much I hate him, I’ll always want him.”
“And he’ll always want you,” you snarled.
Ransom gave you a rueful smile. “That, I’m not so sure. He’s a couple hundred years old and I don’t think even he knows how many progeny he has. Plus he’s been in love with the same man since he was human. When Bucky came back, I was shown the door.”
You were finally starting to let go of your anger. You moved fully into Ransom’s space, placing one hand on his chest. “Fuck him, then,” you said. “Let’s go back in there, drink him out of house and home and then get the fuck out of Germany.”
Ransom rested his forehead against yours, in a mirror of what Steve had done to him, and sighed. “We can’t. We have to come back tomorrow night.”
“We don’t.”
“We do. He’s fixated on you now.”
You took a step back at that and looked at him, confused. “He barely looked at me!”
“Trust me, if we leave now, it’ll become an obsession, and he’ll come after us just to show us that he can. We don’t want that.”
For the first time that night, you felt a frisson of fear. “Does he want to hurt me?”
Ransom snorted and you had the shortest moment to be offended before he said, “He wants to fuck you. Both of us, probably.”
“What?” you asked, surprised. “What would be the point of that for him?”
He snorted again, “Besides orgasms?” he said and then sobered. “It’s a power play. You have to know that every single thing he does is a power play. Ok? You must remember that when we see him again.” 
“Ok,” you nodded, a little frightened by his seriousness. But only for a moment, because quickly your thoughts were overtaken by a broad chest, thick thighs, and a perfect ass. 
You looked up to see Ransom smirking at you. “Yeah,” he said, “whatever you’re imagining, it’s going to be so much better. It’s the best thing about him.” 
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You returned to the club the next night. Ransom had insisted on dressing you both – you in a form-fitting, off-the-shoulder dress that barely covered your ass and left your neck and chest exposed, him in a burgundy silk button-down, strategically unbuttoned, and tight black pants that made his ass pop. You were sure that if you could have looked at yourselves together in a mirror, it would have been a sight to behold.
Someone was called to the door when you got there and you were led directly to Steve’s private rooms in the back. You entered into a sort of sitting room, plush seating scattered throughout, arranged over lush rugs and under low lighting. Everything was dark wood and deep reds and blues. It communicated comfort, luxury, and, more than anything else, power.
Steve was already there, sitting in a large, wing-backed leather armchair. He looked, as ever, clean-cut, professional, and in charge. At his feet kneeled a dark-haired young woman, clad only in an expensive-looking slip made of silk and lace. You could smell the humanity on her. It took everything in you to not let your fangs drop right there. Steve slowly, gently, pet her head, like she were his dog. He gave a satisfied smile when he looked up at you both. “Good boy,” he said to Ransom. “I knew you’d come.”
Ransom huffed and pulled you so your back was flush against his chest. He layed a possessive arm across your stomach. “Of course. Who would dare ignore a summons from The Captain?” he said dryly.
Steve rolled his eyes but kept his smile. “Nothing as dramatic as all that. Am I not allowed to want to catch up with an old friend and his new lover?” Ransom scoffed but didn’t say anything, so Steve continued, gesturing to the woman at his feet. “I took the liberty of having something brought up from my private reserves for us to share. I remembered how you prefer the earthy ones, Ran. This one’s full-bodied and oaky, with the subtlest hint of vanilla. You’ll like it, I’m sure.” He stopped petting her, instead taking her hair in a harsh grip and moving her head to expose her neck.
At that, you couldn’t control yourself anymore, your fangs dropped with a hiss and you lunged forward. Ransom caught you, both arms around your middle and you let out a desperate whine. “I’m afraid we’ll have to decline,” he said. “My little rabbit still hasn’t quite mastered self-control and I would hate for there to be an accident with one of your favorites.”
Steve scoffed. “Of course, she doesn’t have any control with you being the one to teach her.” 
You felt Ransom stiffen behind you, and you were able to pull yourself together enough to stop fighting to get loose. You sank back into him, partly to comfort and partly to apologize. You’d embarrassed him. You tipped your head back to try to whisper an apology, maybe, but Ransom just subtly shook his head and ran a comforting hand down your side.
“Well,” Steve said, patting the woman on the arm and then snapping at the door behind him, “can’t be helped, I guess. Pity.” He pulled out his phone and typed a message as she got up and left the room. “They’ll bring us something from the bar.”
“Excellent,” Ransom said, still running his hand up and down your side. “We haven’t eaten anything yet tonight.”
“Well,” Steve said with a smirk as there was a knock on the door and someone in the club’s uniform came in with a tray of drinks, “I promise you’ll both be very satisfied.” He passed a tumbler to each of you. “What should we cheers to?” he asked. Then his eyes narrowed in on you. “To new friendships,” he said, with a quirk of his lips.
You raised your glass, then took a sip and moaned. It was delicious, even though you missed the little cries and whimpers that usually accompanied a feeding. 
You were so absorbed in your glass that you were surprised by Steve’s fingers circling your wrist. “You like it?” he asked, his voice low and husky, standing much closer to you than you’d realized. This close, he was completely intoxicating. His scent, the coldness of his touch, his power.
“I do,” you breathed, “it’s delicious.” Ransom’s arm wrapped across your body again, pulling you tight into him. 
Steve ignored the display from Ransom, softly running his thumb over what had been your pulse point when you were human. “I’m glad,” he said. “I’m here to please.”  He began to pull you away by your wrist and Ransom let out a short but obvious growl. Steve took his attention off you but left his hand and tsked. “You always were so possessive. I’d hoped you’d have grown out of that by now, but you’re still so young, aren’t you, pup?”
Ransom scowled. “I always hated it when you called me that.”
“No,” Steve said. He leaned forward and placed a soft but leading kiss on Ransom’s lips, squishing you between the two men. Your whole body was thrumming with need now. Steve pulled away, and Ransom moved his head to chase after him. “You loved it,” Steve whispered.
He grabbed your free wrist with his other hand and pulled you with him as he walked over to the nearest couch, perching on the arm. “Come here, little one. Let’s talk, just you and me.” He pulled you so you straddled his knee, and you could tell that you were soaking his pants leg through the tiny excuse for underwear you were wearing. “Oh, you are a needy thing, aren’t you? Maybe you should stay with me, hmm? I’m much more experienced and have so much more to teach you.”
You could feel Ransom’s hackles rising, even from a few feet away. You turned your head to look at him, still standing by the door, and his eyes were locked on you, just you. You bit your lip to hold back the moan at how he watched. You turned back to Steve and smiled seductively as you said, “And what would happen to me when Bucky comes back?”
Steve threw his head back and laughed. His eyes cut to Ransom as he said, “Jealous little thing!” He jerked his knee up, rubbing hard on your cunt and you gasped. “Yes, I’m sure he’s told you all about how I spurned him. Took advantage of his naivety. As if he ever had any. Is that what he told you? Am I the big bad?” You couldn’t answer him, could barely think, as his knee continued to grind against you. “Oh, little one, you are drenched. How does he handle you by himself? Ransom,” he called over your shoulder. “Come help your desperate thing.”
In an instant, you felt Ransom’s hands on your hips, and you couldn’t help the cry that tumbled out of you. He had your dress off before you could even register what he was doing. Steve groaned at the sight of the black lace that adorned your body. “You wrapped her up exactly how I like. Such a good puppy.”
You couldn’t hold back any longer. You tore through Steve’s shirt, sending buttons flying across the room. He lunged forward, kissing you, finally, demanding and aggressive, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth, making you keep up with him. You felt Ransom’s own mouth on your neck, his hands on your breasts. Your hands fumbled their way down Steve’s abs and into his pants, freeing his cock—long, fat, and so, so hard for you. One of them, you weren’t sure which, tore away your underwear, the sting of the elastic snapping pushing you ever closer to the edge. In your periphery, you vaguely noticed Steve’s arm snaking around you and heard Ransom gasp. You wrapped a firm hand around Steve’s cock and stroked furiously, as Ransom’s fingers (you’d always know Ransom’s fingers) slid between your folds, his thumb quickly finding your clit while two fingers slipped inside you. You keened as he touched you exactly where he knew you needed it and sent you hurtling over the cliff of your orgasm. Your whole body shook with it, only managing to stay upright thanks to being sandwiched between these two men. It felt endless, but as the aftershocks ran their course, and you slowly came back down to earth, you registered Steve’s breaths growing more erratic and Ransom’s groans picking up behind you. You tightened your grip on Steve and increased the pace of your strokes to an inhuman speed until he bucked uncontrollably with a guttural moan and painted his spend all over your front. Seconds later, you felt Ransom’s own release on the small of your back. They both continued to jerk against you, gradually slowing down until the three of you were just one tangle of limbs, collectively trying to catch your breaths. You rested your head against Steve’s shoulder as Ransom collapsed against your back.
Steve looked over you both to the clock on the wall. “Well,” he said, his voice full of smug satisfaction, “we have about six hours til sunrise, and there’s a bed in the next room. Think we’ll be able to find a way to fill the time?”
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@stargazingfangirl18 @drabblewithfrannybarnes @thezombieprostitute @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @bval-1 @km-ffluv @texmexdarling @ladyvenera @she-wolf09231982
201 notes · View notes
ilovefandoms102 · 1 year
Text
Royal Flush-Part 6*
Pairing: Mafia!Ransom Drysdale x Plus Size Reader
Summary: After so much loss, will there be any light in the Drysdale family?
Note: I’m finally back sorry I’ve been MIA I’ve had a lot going on lately. I hope you guys enjoy!
Warnings🛑: mafia!au, soft!dark!ransom, arranged marriage, forced relationship, manipulative relationship, loss of pregnancy, mentions of character death, mentions of firearms, mentions of blood, smut(dom/sub aspects, dubcon/noncon aspects, oral(f), unprotected vaginal sex, spanking)
Part 5
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You’ll never forget the last 72 hours…
Ransom dying, being rushed to emergency surgery when they got a pulse back, 12 hours of surgery only for him to be in a coma for the unknown future. You sat alone in his room after ordering no one to enter, the looks of sadness and pity drove you further to insanity.
The next day, you woke up in a pool of your own blood.
At first, you thought it was a dream, but when Ransom’s nurse came in and gasped at your state, calling in other doctors and nurses that wheeled you to the ER. The doctor said it was common for first time pregnancies to miscarry, but you saw it as another failure.
You lost your precious baby, the only thing you would have had left of Ransom. It was Hector that held your sobbing body that time, then had to watch as you crawled into Ransom’s hospital bed and continued to let the tears fall.
Weeks had gone by, you never left Ransom. Your mother and Hector brought clothes and other necessities. Using the shower in Ransom’s hospital room wasn’t the same as when you got to share showers at home with your husband. Sometimes you sat on the cold tiled floor and wept for hours, the lukewarm water turning ice cold.
“Honey, you can’t sit here like this. There are things that need taken care of.” your father said, but all you could focus on was watching Ransom breathe through that fucking tube.
“He wouldn’t want you like this, I know it’s been hard with the baby-” your father continued.
“I’m not leaving him.” you hissed, keeping your eyes glued to Ransom.
“Y/n-” your father tried.
“I will take care of things, y/n is in no state.” Hector stepped in.
“Thank you Hector,” you whispered, glancing at him with a small, grateful smile.
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“My beautiful love, my only love, god I love you.”
You jolted awake, checking your surroundings as well as Ransom’s monitors. Dreams of those last few moments with your beautiful man haunted you, every night.
Every
Fucking
Night
Wiping at your eyes, you burrowed further into your husband. You still slept at his side, careful not to disturb anything he was hooked up to. Dozing off again, you felt something flutter at your back. You thought it was your imagination until you felt a hand in your hair.
Sitting up sharply, you were greeted with shining blue eyes. Your husband’s eyes. The love of your life. Quickly, you hit the nurse button on his bed.
“Hi baby, hi.” you sobbed, a shaking hand reaching up to stroke his bristly jaw.
He smiled the best he could until a nurse came and carefully removed the tube. You held a straw to his lips as he sipped at a cup of water the nurse brought along. He went through four cups before he could muster the strength to speak.
“You’re even more beautiful than when I last laid my eyes on you.” he whispered, attempting that smirk which had you giggling through tears.
“I love you baby,” you smiled, Ransom reaching up and caressing your cheek.
“I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone on this Earth in my 30 some years.” he professed.
You held his hand on your cheek, loving the feel of his touch.
“How far along are you?” he asked, your smile dying as a sharp pain struck your chest.
“Ransom…” you choked out, fresh tears running down your cheeks.
“No,” he whispered, his own tears shedding.
“I failed you, I-” you cried, Ransom’s hold tightening as he yanked you closer so your nose touched his.
“Stop it,” he growled, using his other arm to wrap around your middle.
“I lost our baby Ransom, our precious baby.” you hiccuped, shoving your face in his neck.
“You could never fail me my love, we can try again.” he murmured gently, his hand on your cheek moving to sift in your hair holding the back of your head.
“I wanted to name him Hugh, after his father. If they were a girl I wanted to name her Riley.” you croaked, crying harder.
“I’m so sorry sweetness,” he whispered, that name you missed so much.
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Ransom was finally able to come home a little over a week later. He loved his wife, but she was running herself ragged hovering over every move he made. His wound had healed from the weeks he was in a coma, now he was working to get his strength back.
He spent lots of time in the home gym, much to his wife’s displeasure. The Franelli family seemed to have backed off for now, but Ransom knew it was only a matter of time before they struck again. He needed to make a statement as the head of their assets now. In his absence, Hector was able to get all of the accounts changed to Ransom and your names. This meant no one but he and his beautiful wife had access to their funds.
Ransom knew like him, the Franelli’s mostly dealt firearms. However, with their income there was no way they only dealt guns and ammunition. It was something much bigger, Ransom had an idea. He didn’t like it one bit, and he knew there was no way to get out of it.
“Honey, you doing alright?” he heard your angelic voice that snapped him out of his thoughts.
“I’d be a lot better you came over and kissed me.” he replied, smirking at the flushed look on your face.
You did as he said and walked the few steps to him, leaned and planted a soft kiss to his lips. Ransom however, was feeling starved. After so long without this, without you, he felt like he couldn’t get enough. So he quickly pulled you to straddle his lap, his hands firmly groping your ass while deepening the kiss.
“Ran-” you mumbled against his lips, attempting to push him away in fear of hurting him.
“Quiet,” he growled, giving a harsh smack to your ass which made you squeal in surprise.
It was safe to say you’d definitely ruined your panties. It had been so long since you and Ransom connected, it was about to drive your poor husband insane. One could say he was addicted to you, but it wasn’t like you minded. In fact, the same could be said for you about him.
“My beautiful wife, fuckin’ made for me.” Ransom grunted, switching so your back was on the bench and he was on top.
Your hands explored his naked back, moving to his chest and down. Reaching around and in, you dug your nails into his luscious ass, pulling him further into you. His teeth nipped playfully at your jaw, moving to trace from the base of your throat and up with his tongue.
“Please,” you whined, your clit pulsed hard as he ground his hips down into yours.
The both of you got naked, Ransom now with his pretty head between your legs devouring your pussy. His tongue laved, twisted and fucked into your wetness. It was almost to much, but you loved every second of it. His hands moved to firmly grip your tits while he feasted, his fingers teasing your peaked nipples.
“Baby, Ransom-” you moaned, holding his hands at your breasts.
“Give it to me.” he demanded, sucking your clit hard.
Your mouth opened on a silent scream, back arching on the bench, and thighs quivering as your orgasm ripped through. It had to easily be the best orgasm you’d ever had. You were still cumming when Ransom abruptly flipped so you were on your feet but bent over, ass in the air and hands on the bench. He shoved his cock hard into you, so deep you could practically feel him in your stomach.
“Jesus, fuck me. So perfect, tight, wet-fuck.” Ransom growled, pulling back before he started fucking the shit out of you.
You never stopped cumming as he fucked you, so it was hard to say if this orgasm was extremely long or it was endless orgasm after the other. Either way, it was fucking fantastic. God you loved this man.
“Look at you, this sweet ass in the air all for me.” Ransom teased, smacking your asscheeks multiple times one after the other.
“I love you so much,” you whimpered, crying out when Ransom tugged a fist full of your hair up so your face was right by his.
“Love you too baby,” he whispered, reaching his hand around and rubbing your clit mercilessly until you found it again.
Ransom went into hyperdrive, cumming hard into you and staying planted. Your chest heaved to catch your breath, turning your chin lightly to kiss Ransom’s jaw.
“Fuck I missed that.” he panted, kissing your lips firmly.
“Mhhmmm,” you hummed sleepily.
“Love when I fuck you so hard you get all sweet and cuddly baby.” Ransom grinned, carrying you up to the room you two shared.
“Shut up,” you grumbled, hearing Ransom’s chuckle as he laid you on the bed.
He crawled over you, kissing every inch of skin he could reach.
“Baby,” you whined again.
“You thought we were done?” Ransom asked, a wicked grin appearing.
You couldn’t help but to smile.
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onsunnyside · 2 years
Note
Okay but this idk okay my feminism is trying really hard to fight me rn but I can't. Who would this be?
Also can I be ur 🌙 anon if u don't have one and well if u do give me any emoji you want.
that’s kalopsia!reader aka Arcadia Phi’s pet !! dark smut drabble below
warnings: dark, smut - minors DNI, dark characters, overstimulation, non-con/dub-con, implied free use, unprotected sex (p in v), dirty talk, degradation, dumbification, dacryphilia, dehumanization, gagging (with a used condom), size kink, it’s totally nasty, you’ve been warned.
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The semester has just ended and you’re all on winter break, it’s the perfect opportunity to spend days on end being ✨used✨ by your alphas because it turns out, they’re also in rut 😵‍💫
They don’t go full animalistic since they’d rather not ruin you within the first few months of your relationship, so they take the time to write all over your body—signing their names, their fraternity crest, slut/pet, and covering you in spit and cum.
By the end of the second day, you’re a limp mess in the living room, hiccuping and whining someone traces through your puffy, creamy folds and pulls out the used condom.
“N-No more…”
A sharp sigh follows your words. “Curtis.”
“I’m coming.” The alpha enters your view, already fisting his hard cock. He cranes his neck, “hey, pet, you’re awake again?”
“I can’t, I can’t.” You weakly protest, trying to crawl away from the man adjusting you from behind. A thickness prods at your weepy hole, slipping between your cum-covered petals. “Please no!”
“That’s not the right attitude, dumb baby.” Curtis replies, “You’re supposed to be good for us.”
“And let us use you whenever we please.” Steve murmurs against your shoulder, peppering kisses along your skin.
“Getting started without me?” Another voice pipes up from your side, it’s Andy with a towel around his waist and a fresh scent follows him. He crouches before you with a soft grin on his face. “Hi, my pretty girl, you gonna give daddy a kiss?”
Your eyes flutter shut as you lean forward, anticipating another kiss that will steal your heart—but instead, something wet and squishy is shoved between your lips.
“Hey, that wasn’t nice.” Curtis mocks, gripping your chin to get a closer look at you.
The condom, used and practically pumped full is hanging out your mouth, someone’s seed dribbles down your lips and chin, creating a trail for those pretty tears to follow.
“As if you haven’t done worse.” Andy rolls his eyes, dropping the towel to the floor and kneeling by your face. His hand wraps around his cock, slowing jerking then he taps your cheek with the bulbous tip. “Right, pet? Isn’t Curtis always so mean to you? Practically bullies that little cunt.”
“Remember when he made you suck his cock in that club?” Steve pushes in abruptly, groaning as your walls pulsate around his length. You choke out a gasp, as he presses to the hilt, and his fat girth intensifies the soreness that hasn’t left you once. You roughly wiggle and let out muffled pleas, trying to get away as he leans forward, crushing you—trapping you beneath his weight.
“He came all over your face and made you wear it the rest of the night.” A deeper tone rumbles from the entry way. Ari has his arms crossed over his chest, watching the pure filth play out. “Showing everyone what a little slut you are.”
You’re lucky the rest of the house is empty at the moment. Not that they would’ve cared, but they know you’d be utterly embarrassed about being caught by the rest of their fraternity brothers.
“Ransom!” He calls, and footsteps sound before another man enters the living room. He has a water bottle in his hand, gym shorts hanging low on his hips.
“Oh, we’re going again?” Although he sounds calm, you know he isn’t. In fact, he was just working off steam instead of fucking you into the couch again.
And that condom in your mouth tastes like him.
“Well, they’ve already started. Zero patience.” Ari snorts, slowly unbuttoning his pants.
“Finally.” Ransom grins, stripping off his clothes. “This time, I want her mouth.”
“Too late.” Andy grunts, shoving himself deep into your mouth alongside the condom. “Better luck next time, playboy.”
🌙 is already taken so I’ll give you 🌻 if that’s okay !!
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eloquentreverie · 1 year
Text
thinking about stalker!ransom again and his knife kink. this is a dark blurb so with that being said. please read the warnings and minors, DNI!
warnings; somnophilia, stalking (obviously) knife kink, knife play, non-con.
it's late at night. he had already watched you from across the street, turning off the lights, putting your hair up and walking over to your bed. his heart beat quickened when he saw the outline of your curves in your nightgown, the shape of your breasts pressing slightly through the sheer fabric of the material. the sight alone made his cock twitch in the confines of his jeans. and he cursed to himself, knowing he couldn't move. not yet. he'd been watching you for awhile that he knew he had to wait a few moments before you were asleep.
ransom made his way to the top of your balcony, watching in the shadows and behind the edge of the curtain. he waited until your breathing got more shallower, your chest rising and falling. he grinned at the sight of you laying on your back. that would make what he had planned so, so much easier. and he knew he wouldn't have to risk the possibility of waking you.
he finally picked the lock on your balcony door, quietly slipping inside your room. his trusty knife was gripped in the palm of his hand, hidden behind his back in case you did decide to wake. but ransom was sure, you wouldn't. it didn't matter though, awake or asleep he still planned to have his way with you. your nightgown isn't that long when he slowly peels the covers off of you. his blue eyes slowly rake up your body and he's glad to know you're still sound asleep.
ransom licks his lips and pushes up the hem of your gown. he takes out his knife, flipping it so the handle softly rubs against your clothed cunt. he's so patient with you, despite the undeniable strong urge to shove his cock in your cunt right here and now but he won't. he's going to take his time, get you all good and wet for him. you hum in response, completely unaware of what's happening but you still remain in your deep slumber.
it isn't long until your panties dampen as he continues to rub the hilt of the knife up and down your folds, teasing your clit in slow circular motions. his breath hitches in his throat at the sight of your juices that have now soaked his hand and the handle. he can't wait any longer, he leans down straddling your lap.
ransom unzips his black jeans, letting his thick cock spring up. his bulbous tip already leaking a few droplets of precum and dripping down onto your thighs. he let’s out a low growl, gripping his shaft he slowly teases your folds with the tip, rubbing up and down. he lets his eyes flutter close for a moment. You’re so warm and he’s been fantasizing for this moment for a while now.
his eyes shoot open when you let out a groan, squirming a little underneath him. and it’s this moment where he realizes he can’t wait any longer. he’s already throbbing against you, despite the fact he’s still teasing your entrance but it isn’t enough. he needs to feel all of you and he doesn’t care if he wakes you up in the process.
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royalsweetteaa · 9 months
Text
Good intent
Pairing: Dark!Ransom Drysdale x Homeless!Reader
Chapter 1
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ONLY 18+ | MINORS DNI
WARNING - This story contains the following: dark & suggesting themes such as kidnapping, non-con, explicit smut, obsessive behavior/possessive behavior/delusional behavior on Ransom’s part, Ransom being a creep in general, unbalanced power dynamic, Stockholm syndrome on reader’s part, classism, size kink, manipulation, angst, a bit of sad!Ransom, eventual fluff.
Ch. | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 |
Summary: Ransom is going through a mid-life crisis where he’s miserable and he wants to change things up to make his daily life more interesting. The change involves taking the freedom of someone who he deems is beneath societal suitability.
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Narrator POV
For the past few weeks, Ransom Drysdale had taken notice of a new piece to his repetitive - and quite frankly, boring pattern of a routine.
Every Saturday evening, he and a couple of his so-called friends, who conveniently only hung out with him on occasions where he felt like wasting a lot of money, would go to the nightclub to get drunk, sometimes snort cocaine given the chance, then go their separate ways to hook up with whores when the evening came to an end.
This used to be Ransom’s highlight of the week, and it still was compared to what he did any other day.
He didn’t do much else at home other than occasionally picking up girls to go on a ride on the Beamer - one of his most precious possessions, to then end up at his house to hot sex. His sex drive had been indefinitely high ever since he started his trust fund of a life style. Being alone in a big house with too much money and no job to keep him occupied had led him to feel lonely, frustrated and lastly concluding - lust.
He used to love the attention he was given by the women who so easily spread their legs for him, but eventually he felt empty from them. Because despite how much they would beg him to use them like they were his personal sextoys in the heat of the moment, he knew deep down they didn’t rely on him as much as he relied on them. They were just as much after a good fuck as him, but as soon as he kicked them out of his house the morning after, they were off doing whatever ‘normal people’ do.
They probably had family, friends,…- he on the other hand was left to ponder on what to do next to entertain himself. He had yet to find that one thing that could bring some sort of stability and could satisfy his thirst for a lifelong entertainment. Getting a job was not one of them, no matter how much he sometimes considered it. He only had to remind himself of how miserable he was the few weeks he worked for Harlan at the publishing company.
No, he wanted something else.
And tonight, he thinks he might have found it.
A young woman had caught his eye each time he drove past the street that led to the nightclub. It was obvious enough that she was homeless, given that he had seen her laying against the wall of an apartment building, snuggling in her sleeping bag - reasonably so because it was the end of October. The nights were only getting colder as winter was right around the corner. She wasn’t wearing anything appropriate for the weather either - a thin jacket with no gloves and a hat barely covering her ears to keep her warm.
Her appearance alone wasn’t something he found eye catching. It was simply how there were rarely, if any homeless people around. This small town was known for people of high class, with the exception of lower classes visiting the area to spend the little extra money they had earned from their minimum wage paying job to have a once in a life time experience in the 5 star restaurants or in the luxurious nightclub. The few homeless people who did end up here would be kicked out days later, due to complaints from the rich of how they were ruining the reputation the town tries to uphold.
Ransom couldn’t stay more neutral on the case as he cared little to nothing about what the town decided to do with the less fortunate - as long as his money and property wasn’t personally affected, it didn’t matter to him.
But for once, he couldn’t help but be a little confused as to how this woman had lasted as long as she had. It had been more than a week, and she still hadn’t moved from her spot. Maybe the people who lived in the apartment didn’t mind her presence, or were too occupied to even notice her. She kept her spot pretty tidy too, making sure to not let any trash she may have to spread out on the pavement. She wasn’t the average homeless man who would beg for a penny either, which led Ransom to assume she had some money to cover a few basic needs but not enough to sleep somewhere.
These thoughts kept him preoccupied while he slowly downed the whiskey he had kept in his hand for the longest time. His friends seemed to take notice of how quiet he was the whole time, and tried to ignite his usual enthusiasm.
“See that chick over there? She’s come all this way from Missouri and I heard she gives the best head. Think it’d be good for you to let off some steam and give it a shot, pal.” One of the guys said smugly and pointed to the blonde who seemed to have already been checking out Ransom as she bit her bottom lip seductively.
Ransom sighed and sunk his shoulders. “Sure, why the fuck not.”
He walked up to the woman with a smirk on his face to keep up the same facade he’s had for a while. They flirted with each other - Ransom commented how her filthy words coming from her mouth was turning him on, though it was hardly the truth, and the woman replied with; “wanna see what other filthy things my mouth can do?”
One thing led to another, and he found himself in the handicap restroom with the woman between his legs sucking him off. It was good, - great even, but he felt nothing. This has been going on and on - he practically knows how the night is going to end and it makes him feel miserable. How would this spiral ever end if he kept on letting it happen?
“Fuck-! Stop, just stop.” Ransom said hastily while pushing the woman off of him. “I can’t fucking do this right now.” The blonde had an offended look on her face, but he paid no mind as he tucked his dick back in his boxers and zipped up his trousers. As he left the restroom he could hear her shout after him “you piece of shit!”
It caught the attention of one of his buddies, and they asked if something went wrong, to which he muttered: “I’m leaving. M’tired of this fuckin’ place.”
None of them bothered to go after him after that. Of course they wouldn’t.
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He walked towards his car that was parked only feet away from the nightclub entrance. The little alcohol in his system wasn’t enough to make him not sober, so he was confident to drive home safely. Though, his plan wasn’t to drive straight home even if he tried to convince himself it was all the reason he left early.
Driving closer to the all too familiar street, he scanned alongside the pavement, grinning mischievously when his eyes landed on the mysterious homeless woman.
There she is.
Slowing the car down, he came to a full stop when his car reached alongside her. She seemed to have awoken abruptly from the car’s rumbling engine, and glanced up to be met by the driver’s eyes. His gaze was on her through the whole process of him turning off the engine to him stepping out of his car.
He has never been this close to her, and so he took his time to study her face. Upon a closer look, he found her to be quite pretty. Cute even. Dare he say attractive if it wasn’t for the dust on her cheeks, her greasy hair and fashionably outdated clothes. In a sense, he felt dominant as his tall frame seemed to threaten her. Maybe it was the cold temperature, but he liked to think her sudden stiff composure was because of him.
“What’s your name?” Ransom asked, deciding to finally break the silence.
She gave him a cautious look before mumbling her name. One could easily miss it, but Ransom had sharp ears when he really wanted to listen.
“Y/N, huh..pretty name. Name’s Hugh Drysdale. I live not far from here and have seen you a couple times while driving by. Care to tell me how you ended up here?”
“Why? Do I bother you?” She asked condescendingly.
He frowned, slightly irritated. “No, just wanna know because I might be of help. No need for the attitude.” He said. Ransom surprised himself by saying the word ‘I’ and ‘help’ in the same sentence. Guess there’s a first time for everything.
Y/N’s face softened immediately at the mention of help, lowering her guard. “Oh, I see.. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude. I just assumed the worst coming from a guy who has just been at a nightclub.”
So she’s noticed me too. Neat. He thought to himself. “Yeah, I go there from time to time but decided to leave early. Didn’t feel up for it today and I’m still sober, which led me to you.” Ransom explained himself. “You were gonna tell me what happened?”
Y/N sighed and lowered her head as though the mere reminder of her life story made her tired. “If you insist….- I got kicked out from my parents’ house two years ago when I turned 18 because they thought it was the perfect opportunity to let me go without legal consequences. I never had a good relationship with them to begin with as I was always seen as a burden than anything else. I then moved in with an ex-friend but it didn’t work out in the long run. Never found a job either which refrained me from finding a place and paying pay rent. I moved around a lot, from state to state. I used to live in my car but eventually had to sell it to have money for food and other things - and that leads me to where I am right now.”
Ransom shook his head, “Damn, you’ve been through a lot. All this time…having to deal with so much on your own. Must have been hard.” He said, leaning against the same wall beside her with his arms crossed. Deep down he scoffed at how little he could relate to her.
The only thing Ransom felt like he could personally relate to was on the topic of having a troubling relationship with parents. Sure, he wasn’t kicked out of his parents’ house without a bank account containing a large sum of money, but he felt the part where he was also unwanted by his parents, - not to mention by his whole family.
They all hated him and saw him as the black sheep of the family. Harlan was more patient with Ransom compared to the rest, since He was still getting his monthly allowance to continue with his foolery. In the end however, he was left by himself, which led him to realize another thing -
She has no one. Just like me.
He looked down at her from where he was standing, taking in how fragile she looked. How small and weak she was compared to him. He has - and could have anything he wanted, while she has nothing. The contrast between them made him feel something he has never felt before.
“Yeah, it sucks...I don’t want you to feel bad for me though. I have been very lucky to not have been robbed or experience…worse things. People seem to be too busy here and haven’t bothered me. It has made my time out here so much easier. I know I’ll find my place once I get out of here.” Y/N said with a smile.
Ransom hummed contently. He liked her voice. He could get used to hearing her talking about anything her heart desired. “…you know, I can tell you’re freezing just by looking at you. It would be inhumane of me to leave you here for another night. I have a spare guest room and a bathroom you could use for as much as you’d like, till you…figure out where to go from there I guess.”
She looked up at him with doe eyes that made his mind go wild with scenarios - most of them being in a sexual manner. Her in his arms as he kissed her and made her go down on her knees, looking at him with those same eyes while she sucked his-
“Oh, I really appreciate the offer Hugh, but I really don’t need your help. As of tomorrow early, I’ll be on my way to Pennsylvania where I have been offered a place.-“
The fuck?
“Its a shelter for the homeless youth, and the bus I’m taking goes in about…” she checks her watch for a brief moment. It was currently midnight. “..six hours, so I think I’ll do just fine until then. It’s exclusively on its way to where I need to be and it’d be a disaster if I missed it.” She said and chuckled to herself at the mere thought. “But like I said, it was nice of you to-!”
Before she finished her sentence, Ransom straightened his posture, moved away from the wall without sparing her a glance and walked towards his car. The car door was swung open and he slammed it closed once he was behind the wheel. Within seconds, he was back on the main road and drove his way home. His grip on the steering wheel was tight. He was trying to remain calm but he was bad at it. Thoughts and questions were irking him up even more as he got closer to his house.
SHE doesn’t NEED my help? Who the fuck did she think she was talking to? The CEO of charity case? Get the fuck out of here.
Can’t believe she’s picking a fucking homeless shelter over my offer. Ungrateful cunt. Guess she thrives on living in a shithole.
She’s a nobody. She’s nothing. She’s below what is considered a decent member of society, and yet -
she doesn’t need me.
Ransom was fueled with anger at this point. His ego was painfully bruised. He has never offered someone like her any type of service, and when he does for the first time, he’s rejected.
Furthermore, he found himself disappointed that he thought this would go somewhere. He fantasized that if she accepted, he could give her everything and she would see him as her savior from a pitiful life. And in return, he would have her as his thing. The thing that would provide him a satisfactory life. He wanted to be the only reason for her entire livelihood and her to be nothing without him. The mere thought aroused him and made him realize how sick he was, but he didn’t care. He had seen her face and it was enough for him to be sure that he wants that with her. A nobody that had nothing other than him - Hugh Ransom Drysdale.
So what’s stopping him? Who said he had to leave it at her meek rejection? His inner thoughts asked.
It was then when he decided. He was going to get her for his own pleasure, and add good intent to it.
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Ransom had taken a few shots at home to calm his nerves while plotting the unthinkable inside his head.
He has had many sinister thoughts in the past during desperate times, but he never acted upon them as he always found a way around it. This time wasn’t like those other times though. It felt like a higher calling was telling him that he had to take action or else he would miss what’s right in front of him. His ticket out of a miserable spiral.
It was 02:30 in the morning, and after taking in careful consideration, he backs out of his driveway and drives downtown once again. A handkerchief and a bottle of chloroform is neatly placed on the passenger seat.
The party at the nightclub had died down by now, and most people had departed. All the lights except for the head lights were off across the whole street where Y/N was resting. She was slotted in the dark between two head lights and could barely be seen from a distance. This was a huge advantage on Ransom’s part. He parked the Beamer a little further away not to wake her. Only for a few minutes did he wait to be sure it was the right time to approach.
He picked up the bottle of chloroform, holding it away from his face as much as possible while opening it and making the handkerchief ready for use. A few drops of sweat had appeared on his forehead, probably from nervousness. This has to go as swiftly as possible or I’m out of luck.
With quiet steps he approached her, with the handkerchief sprayed with a dose of the drug in his hand.
When he was close enough, he shoved the handkerchief onto Y/N’s nose and mouth, holding her body down with his other hand causing her whole body to jolt awake, her eyes wide open and whimpering out of distress. She tried to resist and push him off but her strength was quickly drained from the drug and her eyes twitched, trying to have them remain open.
“Shhhh, it’s alright sweetheart, go back to sleep..” he cooed. Her body started to slump downwards to the ground again, but he held her back steadily and lifted her up with both of his arms. She was completely knocked out, and while he cautiously looked around for any witnesses - only to see none, he hooked her backpack on his arm with her and rushed back to the Beamer, putting her in the passenger seat. He left her sleeping bag behind, secretly hoping that It’ll add fuel to the fire and piss some people off that a homeless person had left their stuff behind like many times before.
While driving back, Ransom took quick glances at the woman he had taken while still maintaining concentration to the road. His thumb reached out to her cheek and he attempted to smear off the dust, unsuccessfully doing so.
“Don’t worry, kitten. We’ll get you all cleaned up.” He mumbled, more to himself than to her.
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He laid her body in the guest room and gathered supplies for her to use in the morning. Towels, bottles of shampoo with different fragrances, a deodorant, toothpaste and a toothbrush - everything a person would need. He knew he would have to buy clothes for her too, but he wouldn’t be able to do that until tomorrow. She can wear his clothes in the meantime.
He had these extra supplies stored after his mother complained relentlessly on how little personalized the guest room was. He would argue that the extra stash was useless because he wouldn’t have any guests over in the near future.
Guess he could finally admit he was wrong. Those silly soaps with different scents would come to great use in the hands of Y/N. Or maybe in the use of his own hands roaming around her body.
While he expected her to clean herself by her own when the morning arose, he figured he could do the easy task of cleaning her face.
Fetching a clean cloak and soaking it up in semi hot water, he brought it to Y/N’s face, gently rubbing at the spots where the dust had stained her skin. He touched her hair out of curiosity and leaned in to smell if she had any odor.
He smelled something that he couldn’t quite pinpoint, and upon closer look he noticed her roots were stained with a tint of white. He put one and one together - she had been using baby powder to keep her hair from turning greasy and smelly after assumingely going weeks off washing her hair. Poor little thing, he thought. And she thought she would be better off at a shelter than be with me. As if that would make her life any better. How pathetic.
In a less discreet way, he removed her jacket and unbuttoned her shirt to remove her bra. The countless of women that have been over at his place would always complain leaving their bras on for the whole night, leaving their breasts sore from the restraint. With this knowledge, he had an excuse to take a peek at her breasts.
Once Ransom figured out how to remove the straps, he was met by two perky nipples staring right back at him. His mouth watered at the sight. He felt the restraint of his trousers tightening.
Less than 24 hours ago, he could be found having a threesome with two prostitutes in his king sized bed - yet, this somehow made him more easily riled up compared to the last several intercourses he has had.
His hand reached out to squeeze one of her tits. They were so soft. So beautiful. His other hand reached to his bulge, palming it with slow strokes. His breath hitched and he abruptly stopped both acts.
Fuck, get it together, Ransom. There will be a time to have her, but that will have to be after she has showered.
Buttoning her shirt back together and taking her bra with him to the dirty laundry basket, he left the guest room and went straight to his bedroom.
Through his wardrobe of clothes was an access control panel controlling the level of security he wanted the house to be on. Most doors and openable windows relied on the level of security the control panel was set to. In this case scenario, Ransom had now maximized the level of security - meaning all windows were now completely sealed and all doors leading outside would remain locked at all times - unless he typed in the code. That way, Y/N would be free to roam around the house without him being worried she might run away. The system was secured enough for her to never figure out the code. His house had large glass exterior, but thankfully there were blenders to block the outside world.
He didn’t have to worry about passerby’s seeing Y/N when he wasn’t around to keep her in check. There were hardly any people around where he lived, but he didn’t want to risk it.
He did have a basement he could put her in as well, but that would be too cruel. After all, he’s not a monster. He only has good intentions, even though some of them may be morally questionable.
Finally tucking himself into bed, he kept a smirk on his face as he let his eyes finally rest. The morning excited him. He was prepared that Y/N would be defensive and show resistance, but he was determined to put her in her place and make her see his way. -
Make her realize she needs him, make her crave him for his riches and understand that only through him she can be a somebody.
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Hearts & Reblogs are very appreciated! <3
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shotgunbunny · 1 year
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I want ransom to use my throat like a flesh light 🤤🤤
༻𝐅𝐚𝐦𝐞, 𝐥𝐢𝐪𝐮𝐨𝐫, 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐥𝐲༺
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{warnings!! toxic family!!face fucking!! ransom being a presumptuous bitch!! everyone being assholes.}
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You and Ransom had been dating for a year now, and although there were tough times due to your bratty personalities clashing, it was often beautiful. He bathed you in his love and his hidden softness and kept you safe under his arm at parties filled with chaos. And you inturn drowned him in your love and kisses that you peppered all over his face to grant him comfort and remind him that you adored him.
You remember when you first met, you were at a party filled with rich assholes and you were wasted. You were laid on the bathroom floor crying, the alcohol in your system conjuring memories of your ex boyfriend cheating on you 2 days ago. You sat on and leaned against the tub and continued crying, suddenly the door opened and there stood the devil looking beautiful as always.
Ransom stared at you for a moment before sighing and locking the bathroom door. He recognised you from university. The sweetheart everyone adored, you once gave him a cookie for him standing up for you against the frat boys that called you a dumb whore. The cookie was delicious he won't even deny it. Which led him to wondering why a pretty little thing like you, that made the sweetest things, crying?
Hushed murmurs bounced around the bathroom and eventually Ransom took you to his house and took care of you. The second you were asleep he went to your ex boyfriends house and beat him bloody. But you never knew that.
From that moment you both grew closer until you grew tired and began getting moody with him for not making the first move, he rolled his eyes and asked you out. And now you were here meeting his family for Thanksgiving, this wasn't the first time you'd met them, but past meeting with them only lasted 10 minutes before they stared getting snarky and mean and Ransom stormed away with you beside him.
You were not looking forward to this dinner, the only people that liked you were Harlan and Ransoms mum. You tried to befriend Meg yet she thought if you could date Ransom for so long, you must be exactly like him. You liked Linda, she treated you with respect and was always kind as she thought that you had changed Ransom.
You were sat next to Ransom and Linda at dinner, bringing you comfort that you weren't that alone. Walt cleared his throat and stared at you, "So the gold-digger brought his silver-digging slut." Ransom smirked, "Yeah I did, no need to be jealous that my girl is hotter than yours will ever be, shriveled dick." The entire room errupted into chaos. You couldn't stand it and decided to bite back at the next issult thrown at you.
Joni was the one that decided to start the fire with you, "You're so obviously with Ransom for the money, you'd never fit into the family." You rolled your eyes at her, "I'm actually only with Ransom for his big cock, I can't wait to take his last name to spite you, bitch." Ransom went quite next to you.
He was ecstatic that you loved his cock, but the last comment got him. It was like you knew he was going to propose. Even Linda froze up knowing of Ransoms plan to propose after dinner. The whole time Harlan sat there, listening to the insanity that was his family until he finally shouted, "Enough! Stop this nonsense!" Ransom pulled his chair out and tugged you with him.
He tugged you upstairs into his old room and pushed you onto the bed. You stared at him, your eyebrows furrowed together as you watched him pace. You were confused by his actions. "When did you find out?" Your confusion grew, why was Ransom acting so strange. "What?" He growled and turned to you anger and rage flashing in his eyes. "You fuckin' heard me." You stood up and glared back at him. "I don't know what you're talking about so drop the attitude."
"Get on your knees. Now." His dominance was driving you crazy and you dropped to your knees. He unzipped his pants and you pulled them down and then his boxers. You eyes widened as his cock bobbed out of his pants. It looked like he had been hard for a while due to how much precum was coating the tip of his cock. Before you could even speak he grabbed your hair and made it into a make shift ponytail with his fist.
He stared down at you, and you opened your mouth. He immediately pushed your head all the way down. Your nose burried in his pubes. You gagged around his cock and his groaned, the sound creating a beautiful symphony for your ears. You slurped your salvia down and sucked on Ransoms cock. He closed his eyes and started thrusting in your mouth speaking harshly down at you.
"Gotta fuckin' fill your mouth to stop your fuckin' lies." He continued fucking your throat, groaning everytime there was a small gag. The tightness of your throat almost hugged his cock as good as your cunt. You stared up at him confused and pleading for him to tell you what he did wrong. He looked down at you and spat on your face, glaring at you.
"You fuckin' looked in my night stand didn't you. Saw the fuckin' ring and knew I was gonna pop the question." Your eyes watered both from Ransom face fucking you and the fact he was going to propose. He groaned looking at your face. Tears streaming down it and spit everywhere. You moaned around his cock trying to deny the fact you'd seen the ring, but the vibrations were perfect around the tip of his cock and he came down your throat.
He watched as you drank down his cum, keeping his cock comfortable in your throat until it was soft. He pulled it out and tucked his cock in his boxers and the pants. You looked up at him and spoke with a horse voice, "You were gonna propose?" He rolled his eyes and helped you onto his bed, "Don't play dumb, you knew I was, that's why you said that shit about taking my last name at Joni." You stared up at him with wide eyes. You whispered gently, "I said that because I see a future with you Ransom. I want us to get married."
Silence filled the air, and with a sigh Ransom reached into his back pocket and pulled out a small black velvet box. You breathe got caught in your throat. He opened it and stared at you, the ring was beautiful. A silver band adorned with a diamond in the middle and surrounded by rubies. "Well, take my last name then sweetheart." You smiled and and giggled the sound coming out slightly muted. "Before I put the ring on my finger can you get me a drink of water." He smirked and passed you the glass of water that was on the nightstand next to his old bed.
You gulped and sighed, feeling you throat being more eased up and free from Ransoms cum. "I'd love to be your wife Ransom." With that he slid the beautiful ring on your finger and you attacked him with a kiss.
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