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#ransom x male reader
chrisevansxmalereader · 2 months
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IMPORTANT UPDATE!
This has to do with the future of this blog y'all...
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SO I'M CHANGING UP SOME THINGS! AS YOU ALL KNOW I'VE BEEN STRUGGLING WITH WRITERS BLOCK AND I FINALLY FIGURED OUT WHY, IT'S BECAUSE I TAKE ON WAY TO MUCH SO I'M GONNA JUST GO FOR A FRESH START.
IF YOU ARE WAITING ON A REQUEST YOU SENT Me I'm Sorry But I'm Quitting All That, I REMOVED ALL REQUESTS FROM MY DRAFTS AND I'M JUST GONNA START NEW, FROM NOW ON WHEN I OPEN MY REQUESTS I'LL ONLY ACCEPT A COUPLE BEFORE I CLOSE THEM AGAIN AND THEN REQUESTS WON'T BE OPEN UNTIL ALL ARE FINISHED. AND THAT GOES FOR THIS BLOG AND MY SIDE BLOG.
SORRY TO DISAPPOINT BUT I HAVE NO MOTIVATION TO CONTINUE THOSE OLD REQUESTS AND SO I'M JUST RESTARTING, THANK YOU ALL FOR THE LOVE AND SUPPORT.
REQUESTS: OPEN
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WHO I WRITE FOR/ WHAT THEY ARE FOR SMUT:
What's it's listed as is the only way I'll write for them (if you request Smut of course) so if you send a Smut request for that character I'll only write them in the listed position! (Top or Bottom, if it says Verse then you can choose top or bottom for your request)
LIST OF PEOPLE:
Chris Evans (Himself)- Verse
Cole Turner (Ghosted)- Subby Bottom
Steve Rogers (Marvel Franchise)- Verse
Pete Brenner (Pain Hustlers)- Dom Bottom
Captain Buzz Lightyear (Lightyear)- Top
Johnny Storm (Fantastic Four)- Verse
Ransom Drysdale (Knives Out)- Dom Top
Andy Barber (Defending Jacob)- Verse
Frank Adler (Gifted)- Bottom
Colin Shea (What's Your Number)- Top
Lucas Lee (Scott Pilgrim Franchise)- Top
Jake Wyler (Not Another Teen Movie)- Top
Ari Levinson (The Red Sea Diving Resort)- Dom Top
Lloyd Hansen (The Gray Man)- Verse
Nick Vaughan (Before We Go)- Sub Top
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I'M EXCITED TO START NEW.
ALSO TO THOSE CURIOUS NO, I WILL NOT BE DELETING MY OLD POSTS SO DON'T WORRY!!
AND TO THOSE WHO WILL CONTINUE TO SUPPORT ME THANK YOU AND TO THOSE WHO DON'T LIKE THIS DECISION AND WANNA LEAVE I TOTALLY UNDERSTAND.
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supercap2319 · 1 year
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Y/N: “Steve?”
Steve: “Yes, Y/N?”
Y/N: *Smiles* “You didn’t tell me your brothers were so cute and sexy.”
Ransom: “The kid has good taste, Stevie.”
Johnny: “Yeah, I know I’m hot.”
Andy: “Thank you for the compliment, Y/N.”
Steve: *Puts his head in his hands*
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khami-the-raccoon · 2 months
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Thank you for answering. May I request a MPHfPC x male reader?
Maybe just hcs on a few of the children/teens reacting to teenage reader joining their home. Maybe some reactions to his peculiarity? Peculiarity is that the reader can turn into a deer? Thank you again, and take your time!
Hey! Thanks for you request and patience, I know I took an eternity to write this, but I hope you like it! Have a great day :)
MPHFPC characters x male! Peculiar! Reader
Headcanons
Summary: some Headcanons about the peculiar children and teens, and how would they react at the arrival of a new peculiar boy, whose peculiarity is turning into a deer.
Word count: 988
Characters: Enoch O’Connor, Jacob Portman, Emma Bloom, Olive Abroholos, Millard Nullings, Horace, Fiona, Bronwyn Bruntley, Claire Densmore, Hugh
MPHFPC Masterlist
General Masterlist
Enoch O'Connor
Enoch had always been a skeptical boy, he would initially be dismissive of Y/N's peculiar ability, considering it impractical in the peculiar world.
As Y/N spends more time with the other peculiar children, Enoch's curiosity is piqued, and he reluctantly starts observing the new boy's transformations into a deer.
Enoch would be eventually jealous about Y/N being more liked than him by the others, but that would change the moment they start to become friends.
Over time, Enoch could warm up to Y/N as they bond over shared experiences and the challenges of being peculiar.
Y/N's ability to transform into a deer could become really helpful, and Enoch might reluctantly admit its usefulness, even if he doesn't express it openly.
Enoch, known for his dark sense of humor, might tease Y/N about his deer form, adding a touch of playfulness to their interactions in their home.
Despite his tough exterior, Enoch may secretly appreciate having another peculiar around, specially since Y/N is a teenager, not a child, and they can openly talk about their thoughts and feelings.
Jacob Portman
Jacob, having experienced the peculiar world and its wonders, would be fascinated by Y/N's ability to transform into a deer, finding it a unique and beautiful peculiarity.
Y/N's arrival would remind Jacob of when he arrived at Miss Peregrine’s house, making him eager to help the newcomer adjust and feel welcome among the other children.
Given Jacob's empathetic nature, he would likely be one of the first to befriend Y/N, offering him help and sharing stories of his own experiences as a newcomer in Miss Peregrine's peculiar household.
Jacob might express curiosity about the specifics of Y/N's deer transformations, asking questions about control, duration, and whether there are any challenges or side effects associated with the peculiar ability.
As Y/N and Jacob spend more time together, their friendship could deepen, and Jacob might even find creative ways to incorporate Y/N's deer form into their daily activities.
Jacob's experience in the peculiar world could be a source of comfort for Y/N, helping him feel more at ease and accepted in his new home.
Emma Bloom
Emma, had always had a fiery and assertive personality, she would be both intrigued and amused by Y/N's ability to transform into a deer. She might playfully nickname him "Bambi" just to get a rise out of him. (Enoch would probably do the same).
Emma's initial reaction might involve a raised eyebrow and a smirk, but deep down, she would appreciate having a new peculiar around, not that she would get tired of the other children, but change it’s always good in a life like hers.
She would definitely make the new boy help her saving the squirrel, because Enoch would be too jealous of the new arrival to even go out of his room.
Emma, being protective of her family, would likely keep a watchful eye on Y/N initially, ensuring he feels welcomed and included in Miss Peregrine’s household, and she would also make sure Y/N was being honest with them.
Even if she is normally serious and even strict, she may surprise Y/N with moments of genuine kindness and friendship, forming a unique bond with the new arrival over time.
Olive Abroholos
Olive, with her sweet and gentle demeanor, would be the first to approach Y/N, fascinated by his ability to transform into a deer. She'd find his peculiarity enchanting and see the beauty in his deer form.
Y/N's deer form could become a source of joy for Olive, who might request him to transform into a deer to hang around or just because she likes to caress him when he’s a deer.
Olive's kindness and warmth would help Y/N feel welcomed and accepted among the others, specially around Enoch, who at first wouldn’t make Y/N feel at ease at the household.
She would probably even help them become friends, by making them both spend time with her so they can put their differences apart
The two might have serene moments together, with Olive enjoying the tranquility of Y/N's deer form, perhaps even sharing quiet moments in the garden or woods.
Olive's lighter and more carefree attitude could bring out a playful side in Y/N, and the two might engage in innocent, imaginative games.
Y/N's arrival could even serve as a calming presence for Olive, especially during moments when her own peculiarity might be overwhelming. The contrast in their abilities could create a harmonious balance.
Horace
Horace would have dreamt about Y/N’s arrival days before he arrived, so he wouldn’t be surprised at his peculiarity or arrival, but still would be curious about him.
As they become friends, Horace would trust Y/N with his visions and dreams.
Fiona
Fiona would like having Y/N around a lot, since she thinks he’s closer to nature because of his ability to turn into an animal.
She would ask him to help her with her gardening activities.
Bronwyn Bruntley
Bronwyn would definitely love Y/N’s peculiarity since she likes animals and nature.
She would probably see Y/N as if he was Victor, and become very attached to him quickly.
Claire Densmore
Just like Bronwyn, she would get quickly attached to him.
She would ask him to turn into a deer just because she likes animals.
Hugh
Hugh would be pretty surprised at another peculiar whose ability has to do with animals.
He would feel kind of understood by Y/N, even though he couldn’t turn into an animal like him, he had a special bond with bees, just like Y/N with deers.
Millard
Millard would also quickly befriend Y/N, and he would be a great friend.
He and Y/N would talk for hours about everything, Millard is a great person to talk to.
Im so sorry if this is not what you expected, it’s my first time writing headcanons and I wasn’t sure how to do it :,)
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fandomfluffandfuck · 2 years
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Hi, what do you think Chris and his characters would be like (if they were real except Chris) in bed and with their partner
Hi! I'm gonna use this as an excuse to write about Andy, Ari, and Ransom specifically because, well...
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You know why 👀
(Also because I'm not honestly that familiar with a lot of Chris characters because I'm a terrible person to be in a film fandom, accounting for the fact that I don't really enjoy watching movies haha)
Steve and Chris himself not accounted for because I already have major love for them on the blog. The following is all x-reader type content with kinky 💫spice💫
Hope you enjoy!
Also... stay all the way through Ransom's part is my favorite
Andy Barber
Andy is the KING of, oh, you're stressed? I can fix that. Lemme fix that for you, honey. Grabbing at you and using his strength to hoist you up and carry you to the next place he can lay you out over or even the nearest wall if he doesnt want to go that far. He loves to use his strength. Big but gentle. Always making sure to not drop you too hard or grab you too hard (even though you wouldn't mind harder 👀).
However, funnily enough, when it comes to his own stress, Andy seems to forget that it can be melted away through a good fuck too. And because of that, you often end up coming to him- approaching him to get his mind off things. Offering yourself up. Openly or sneakily, approaching him when he's vegging out in his favorite recliner or crawling under his desk 😏
The best way to de-stress Andy is regular old fucking. He gets off hard on toys and kink when he's not simply aching to blow off steam, almost boiling over, but yeah when he's stressed... he fucking loves being on top. He loves plowing into you, over his home office desk, over your kitchen counters, or even on one particularly memorable occasion the dining room table. He likes it a little rough with your hands in his hair, tugging his careful style into hella fucking bedhead, or with your nails raking down his back. Either way, you've always got your ankles crossed over the small of his back, hanging on tight because he loses his mind when buried inside of you.
"Best fucking cunt I've ever had," he moans, lips loose. It should be dirty, raunchy, stupid porn-talk but coming out of his mouth you know it's not. He really, really fucking gets off on being inside you. "Squeezin' me so tight, honey," he pants, resting his forehead against yours as his hips hit against you, "feelssogood," he groans, eyes squeezed shut tight, a divot between his eyebrows almost like you feel so good it's making him feel physical pain. "Should keep you here all, guh, all the time. Keep you ready for me, so I can have you whenever I want. You'd do that for me, right, honey? Lemme get inside you whenever I need you. Need you all the time, God, honey. S'good."
Always groaning and mouthing hungrily at your throat and shoulders and chest. But at the same time, if you grab at his shoulders or, hell, if you accidentally wrap your hand around his throat when trying to throw your arms around his neck, moaning, "ah-! Oh, God, Andyy!"
He is fucking done for.
He's swearing and losing control of his hips inside of you, seconds from orgasming.
When not stressed (and taking it wonderfully, consentually, out on you), Andy is a kinky motherfucker though. His favorite is semi-public shit. He loves opening you up, pressing in a toy of some sort to you, and then parading you out in the outside world. Staking his claim on you with a big, big hand on your lower back, warm and only slightly demanding in the way he guides you through parties or work events or the store. He can't wait to get you home, or, more realistically, back to the car... or to your hotel room... or to the nearest bathroom if he's really desperate. He can't wait to get you alone and get his hands on you- his hands feeling like mitts on your body. Big and broad and always bringing pleasure whether he's just touching you- caressing you, fingering you, or spanking you.
Also for whatever reason I think his favorite sex toy - if you have a vagina - would be jiggle balls. Dumb name but, basically, what this sex toy is, is a set (usually) of two ball shaped silicone or metal objects that are connected and can be safely put into and pulled out of the vagina. The fun part of them though is that there's another smaller, weighted ball inside of the outer ball. Meaning, when you move the weighted ball inside the outer ball moves too. It, like the name suggests, jiggles. Sort of like a vibrator that you activate yourself to torture yourself in public - secretly in public, of course - Andy would get off on seeing the way you abruptly stop and turn red as they move inside you.
He'd smirk when you drink your wine a little too fast and get the hiccups and have to sit through the torture of minute after minute of jolt through your body, reminding you with every hiccup of what you have inside you, moving around. Jiggling. Making you clench down and get wetter and wetter. Ruining your panties.
Andy uses his napkin to wipe his mouth (and also hiding his smirk for a moment before he controls himself again), and ask you, "do you have to go to the bathroom, honey?" He's tested his own patience enough, gotten all the way through your expensive multi course dinner to dessert.
You get the hint, choking on your next hiccup and nodding, "yeah, uh, actually, I- yeah. I'm gonna go to the bathroom. I'll be right back."
A while after you leave, Andy will drink the rest of the wine and follow you back. He's so glad this upscale restaurant has multiple bathrooms that open to their own separate room. He's going to fuck you hard. He's gonna feel how wet you got, wearing those for him in public. He's going to feel how your internal muscles twitch and shudder around him after working so hard around the toy all night.
If you don't have a vagina or don't like things in that hole, I imagine he'd be much the same with a plug, vibrating or not...
Also also also as I briefly mentioned above I feel like Andy goes cross-eyed on the occasion that you wrap your hand around his throat. Not choking him. Just leaving it there. He likes how it feels 😳
Ari Levinson
First off, I just feel in my heart that Ari has a HELL of a libido. He is insatiable, always down for any kind of hooking up. Like, fuck, Ari is a goddamn DOG when it comes to sex.
And beyond always being down, Ari always likes it messy.
He likes it sloppy. Both for recieving and for giving. He fucking savors having his dick sucked with spit dripping down his shaft onto his balls, getting him nice and wet, making your head loud as hell with the obscene noises of his dick between your pretty, swollen lips. And while you're there, he also gets off hard on the way tears well up in your eyes and spill over- running down your cheeks hot and wet and salty because his dick is so fucking thick and long that it always triggers your gag reflex. No matter how many times you get on your knees for him, crowded in by his thick, powerful thighs and going to town on his cock, using both hands and your mouth, unashamedly worshipping him and his heavy balls. (He also is more than happy to pull your hair and slap your face while you suck his dick but only if you can handle it while also sucking his cock. He ultimately wants you to like it. He wants to get off on how hungry you are for it. He wants you to enjoy it.)
But giving- yeah.
Ari's giving is messy whether he's swapping between rimming and blowing your dick OR swapping between rimming and eating your pussy (don't do that irl, it's infection central lol). Sloppily mouthing at your thighs and stomach between licking you and making you squeal as he puts in work his with thick, long fingers and talented tongue and lips and rubbing his beard against you and-
Yeah. 🥴
He's just, uh, talented to say the least.
Talented with how he gets you wet and how he gets himself wet. Oral is his fucking favorite (closely, closely followed by being inside you, plowing you while on top of you, bodily pinning you down, and taking you) and he gets so into it, coming up for air after smothering himself between your legs with a soaked beard and swollen, slick lips that he bites when you beg for him to keep going... not that you keep begging him for long because Ari follows through and then some, going and going, giving and giving until you're begging for him to stop because it's too much. Too good! Too-! Much-!
And while Ari may not be aware of what a primal kink is...
But, baby sure fucking has one.
It's not an obvious primal kink, like, he asks you with a wolfish grin to follow him out into the wilderness so he can give you a five minute head start to run away from him so he can chase you down, tackle you with a growl, and fuck you until you're screaming yourself hoarse as his dick pounds you so, so good, making your toes curl (not that he would ever, ever dream of saying no to such a golden opportunity if you presented the idea to him 👀). But his kink more comes out in other ways...
He likes spit, of course, but he also has a thing™️ for rendering you speechless: he loves your groans and whines and moans and squeals, so busy making sounds of pleasure that you can't speak. He loves fucking you until you're hoarse and have to wander into the shower on wobbly legs, still limping with his mess trickling out of you, down your legs, then he fucking loves seeing you try to function the rest of the day with a voice that's like gravel, clearing your throat and apologizing to your not-so-close neighbors for being nearly incoherent as you bump into them, excusing yourself by claiming that you're getting over a cold and you lost your voice.
Mmm-hmm, likely story...
Ari himself though, he growls and makes a lot of animalistic, primal noises during sex. He can't help himself, you feel so good. Whether it's like heaven around his cock from your ass, thighs, pussy, or mouth... it's always too good. And, yes, he spits, he uses a lot of spit and a lot of lube, the messy bastard, but he also bites.
It seems you're never not covered in marks under your clothes after he's had his way with you.
(The first time he fucked you bare, after STI tests, he lost control of himself so much that while pinning your wrists above your head he growled and dove forward, baring his teeth and sinking them into your arched, offered-up neck. Biting you hard enough you bruised. You hadn't been able to stop touching it in the days after it happened, prolonging the bruise but... shivering whenever you thought about it.)
Spitting, sounds, and biting aside though... he also loves pulling your hair and he loves you pulling his hair. His hips always fuck forward hard after you tangle your fist in his hair, pulling until he groans, eyes rolling back into his head.
Scratching is certainly a thing for him too. You've caught him fisting himself with one massive hand as his other hand draaags down his clenching stomach, tracing the red, jagged lines your nails left on his chest and stomach the night before. Biting his lip in order to not let out his low, rumbling sounds as he gets himself off in your bathroom. Staring at the scratches on his golden skin in the mirror. He claims didn’t want to wake you after keeping you up so late the night before, you joke that he's strong enough he could've just rolled you over and done all the work anyway, with you still asleep or barely awake anyway. He bites out something about not teasing you, then goes off like a shot the second you trace your hand down his already marked up stomach, teasing him with more marks...
He's always using his strength with you. He likes to manhandle... he likes to pin you down... he likes to use your trust in him to trap you, all helpless and all his for the taking. Very predator-prey but... only if you imagine that the predator has an appetite for your pleasure too.
And don't get him started on how fucking fast he loses his load when you can't speak as he fucks you within an inch of your life other than a meak little cry of, "d-daddy-!" that accidentally slips out of you. That's the closest he's come to death, he swears it, you dirty little thing 😏
Ransom Drysdale
Ransom is ABSOLUTELY a pillow princess and sub. I don't make the rules. He is. He just has the vibe, okay?
Plus, Ransom has a mommy/daddy kink one million percent. Lips always so pretty when wrapped around the word, begging, "Daddy, daddy, please."
You break him down with soft but messy kisses and sweet words yet paired with touches that are a little too hard and punishing and, bam, suddenly he's all whiny and needy. Nothing but mush under your fingers as they leave bruises in his otherwise pristine skin... 🤤
Honestly, you had been expecting upon meeting Ransom and beginning to sleep with him that he would be a brat if anything, whiny and bitchy. But he's not.
He's spoiled, for sure, he won't lift a finger to pleasure himself or to pleasure you, but he isn't bratty about it somehow. (Not most of the time.) He has his bratty moods, naturally, but most of the time, if you lay him down, pin him down, come up behind him, or put your hands on him in any regard, taking control and pleasing him... he will melt.
Melting and getting all helpless when he's needy.
Grabbing at you and whimpering for you. Blushing for you.
He can't do anything himself when he gets hard. It's like his erection turns off his higher brain function. It's cute. You love to tease him for it; it's as if he's had so many people so willing to worship him since he started sleeping around, never having to do anything on his own, barely having to bat his pretty eyelashes before he's drowning in pussy and/or cock, that he's classically trained himself. He gets hard and he just... pouts. It's like it doesn't even occur to him to jerk off or finger himself or anything. He always needs you do it for him.
Pleeeease, Daddy?
But back to that blush for a minute... he's so fair, skin pale and white, that his blush washes all the way down from his cheeks to his chest. Pretty. And the pink stain is always obvious when it appears because of his clean shaven face and well groomed body hair. Bare and soft. Everything about him is soft when he gets like this. When turned on. He knows how to take care of himself, bathing and shaving and waxing and rubbing lotion into his pale, freckled skin. So he's soft. You never tire of touching him.
Touching him-
His favorite thing is being ridden with something in his ass.
He's needy.
Hungry.
And he can't ever get enough of having you ride him at the same time that he has a plug or dildo or vibrator inside him. Getting pleasure from his cock and prostate, overwhelming. Moaning and gasping, so thankful that Daddy is taking care of him. Eyelids heavy with his dark, dark eyes only focused on you, moaning and gasping, staring at you as you take him apart. It makes you feel powerful, you have this man- this man that walks around unowned and unbothered by anything or anyone, lapping up his pleasure from the palm of your hand. He needs you. He needs you to get him to orgasm because poor baby can't get himself there alone. So sad.
So, yesss. Pillow princess Ransom.
And if he won't reach up to touch you other than hold onto your hips or thighs for dear life... well, he's going to pay up by moaning, "DaddythankyouthankyouthankyouD-daddy!" and "it feels g-good! It feels s'good, Daddy! You feel so good on my dick and in my ass! You feel s'good!" when you tell him you want to hear him or he doesn't get off. You own your man.
Also specifically for the Mommy kink I cannot get out of my head the image of:
Ransom in pretty pink panties while sitting up against the headboard. His legs are out in front of him, spread wide, and his wrists have been tied to either side of the headboard with pink leather cuffs that are engraved with the word "princess". He's blushing, lips swollen, red, and wet because he's been biting them. You're in his lap, grinding down against his hard cock through the pale pink lace and he can't quit gasping, squirming, "m-mommy, oh, oh god, mommy you're so wet- I can feel you thr-through my, my..."
"Say it for Mommy," you purr, leaning down so your lips brush lightly against his jaw, leaving sticky lip gloss on his soft skin. "Say it for Mommy and she'll let you feel her tits."
Ransom let's his head thunk back against the headboard, moaning.
"That'll be nice, right? You wanna feel Mommy's tits, don't you?"
Ransom nods, biting his lip hard. Licking his lips. Opening his mouth. Shutting it. Opening it. "M-mommy, I, I can feel how wet you are through my panties."
"Yeah? Is mommy nice and wet and hot over your pretty cock?"
"Yes, yeah, yes. Mommy's wet and hot."
"It makes you want Mommy to ride you doesn't it?"
"Yes."
"How would mommy do that? What'd she have to do to slide your pretty dick into her cunt?"
"Mommy would have to- Mommy'd have to pull my... my panties to the side."
"Mm-hm, Mommy would have to pull your panties down to get at that pretty dick of yours," you hum, smirking wolfishly and promptly curling your bare legs under you, kneeling more than grinding in his lap. Getting up onto your knees aaaand-
Shoving your tits in his face.
Ransom strains his neck, burying his face in your chest and moaning extensively, "mommy-" against your skin. You feel the heat in your core curl tighter, throbbing between your legs wetly. Hotly.
In no time he finds your nipple and puts his lips around it, licking, sucking. You moan. To anyone else it might look like he's trying to please you, lapping at you with kitten licks, but you know better. You know Ransom is a tits man. You know he just likes to have his pretty mouth busy and full and is doing it for him. Latching onto your tits because it plays so, so well into his mommy kink. Needing you. Needing this.
He loves this and so do you.
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nicoline1998enilocin · 6 months
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So my request would be for ransom.
Male reader (23) bratty soft dom top to a stuck up needy bottom Ransom (26)
Reader graduated art school for illustration but has been just living art life as a ceramics teacher when gets a call from his family about the arranged marriage between him and ransom that was signed over from both their parents when they were kids. For readers family is also another publishing house mainly for graphic novels etc.
Reader and Ransom meet up at thrombes after many years bickering about how they don’t wanna be married. They have rings they have to wear as fiancés before the wedding and cnat have outside relationships.(ransom pissed about that)
Reader goes back to work. Ransoms shows up one late evening as reader is cleaning up and gets on readers nerves and then turns spicy 🥵
They have to go to another dinner at thrombey and reader defends ransom against his drysdale and thrombeey family. Ransom likes that and is falling hard for the reader but ignores it for it’s an arrange marriage and such
But as per the contract have to live together feelings bubble up during a fight and ransom confesses to the reader and runs away cuz he doesn’t know how to deal but reader returns feelings and stuff! Idk I’m not good at writing!!
But yeah!! Love how u write sub ransom!! -⚡️⚡️⚡️
A special bond
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PAIRING | Sub!Ransom Drysdale x Soft Dom!Male!Reader
WORD COUNT | 4.2K
SUMMARY | You're forced into an arranged marriage with the one and only Ransom Drysdale, even though neither of you likes the other. After being forced to be close to one another, the tension keeps rising, and it all takes a steamy turn once one of you finally snaps and gives into their feelings.
WARNING(S) | This is your official trigger warning. Do not proceed if any of these topics upset you. Angst, arranged marriage to lovers, swearing, smut [ Sub!Ransom, Soft Dom!Reader, Oral (both receiving), daddy kink, praise kink, implied vanilla sex, unprotected anal sex (wrap it before you tap it!), implied aftercare ].
A/N | Thank you for this fantastic request, sweet Nonnie! This will be my first time writing for a male! reader, so I hope I can do it justice. I had lots of fun exploring more of our favorite Sub!Ransom, so I hope you will enjoy the route I chose for this fic 🖤
Likes, comments and reblogs will be very much appreciated 💚
Divider is made by @firefly-graphics | 18+ banner is made by yours truly,
Main Masterlist | Ransom Drysdale Masterlist
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The last bell of the day just went off, and it's time to clean your classroom before going home for the weekend. You've planned to have a leisurely weekend at home, work on some of your digital art, or read a book or two.
Just when your mind wanders to one of the books waiting for you at home, your phone rings in your back pocket, so you put down some of the clay you were about to put away and fish it out, sighing as you see who's calling you.
''What?!'' you spit out at the phone, already annoyed about her calling you. She never calls with any good news, and you have a clue this time would be the same.
''Hello to you too,'' she starts, and you let out a sigh at her comment.
''Tell me what's going on, or I'll hang up,'' you say, but she cuts you off mid-sentence.
''You're coming to dinner at the Thrombey household tomorrow, and you can not say no. Be there at 8 PM, and don't be late,'' she says before saying goodbye and hanging up.
Your heart starts beating faster at the thought of going over there, and you don't like what's probably going on. You drop your phone on your desk and continue cleaning up, reviews of tomorrow taking over your mind.
Tomorrow evening has come way too soon for your liking, and now you're getting ready after your shower, your beard neatly trimmed before putting on your outfit for dinner at the Thrombeys.
As much as you hate your Mom, you would never go against her demanding you be somewhere, having learned that years ago, you do as she says, just to be gone soon after it starts.
When you're ready, you grab your keys and phone before heading out the door and towards your car. When you get in, you close your eyes tightly and hold onto your steering wheel a little too hard to keep yourself calm before driving; you don't want to end up in an accident.
On your drive to the Thrombey estate, you keep thinking about why you ever said no to that job on the other side of the world; that way, you would have to deal with any of these people, especially not your Mom.
When you arrive at the estate, you see a car you didn't want to see, Ransom's Beemer. After a sigh, you put your car in park and put on your jacket before stepping into the cold air outside, ready to walk into the lion's den.
You walk up to the front door and ring the bell, waiting to be walking into literal hell. It doesn't surprise you when the devil herself opens the door, either.
''Hello, Linda,'' you say with faux politeness.
She lets you in after a sigh, barely acknowledging your existence, and you prefer keeping it that way. After taking off your coat and walking into the dining room, you're greeted by Harlan Thrombey, Linda, Richard Drysdale, their son Ransom, and your parents.
After greeting everyone except Ransom, you sit at the table and avoid his gaze. The two of you were the best friends growing up, but after a huge fight, you were never the same and have never seen each other since.
While dinner is served, Linda decides to cut right to the chase, and when she does, you nearly spit out your food all over the table.
''You-'' Linda points at you, and then to Ransom, ''-are getting married later this year,'' she says, and that's all you hear before everything blacks out, and you've fainted.
In the meantime, Ransom has been arguing about not wanting to get married to you - or at all, for that matter - which only made you feel worse by the time you've gotten back into consciousness.
''I'm not fucking marrying him, you are out of your minds!'' Ransom yells at both your parents by the time you're back, and that comment does sting a little. It's not like you were planning on getting married, but that's beside the point.
''D-Do we have any say in this?'' you say, finally back on earth with a pounding headache.
''No, it's all been dealt with, and from now on, both of you are in an exclusive relationship, or I guess I should say you two are officially engaged. That means not fucking everything that moves, Ransom,'' Linda says with a pointed tone.
Ransom's not happy with that, though you have less of a problem. Regardless, it's not like you were in a relationship or getting laid regularly.
The rest of the evening goes by quickly, and most of it goes over your head. All you know is that you'll have to marry the man you've had a huge falling out with, which will happen in less than a few months.
''Thank you for coming, darling. I can't wait to see you on your wedding day,'' your Mom says with a fake smile, and you give one back that's just as fake, trying to keep up appearances.
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Today's the day you're officially marrying Ransom, and even though you're very nervous, there's a small part inside of you that's also excited.
If it wasn't for the fact that this is arranged and you have zero say in anything, you would be looking forward to this day, but you don't.
So here you are, in front of the wedding aisle, guests seated, looking at the man you'll be married to in less than a few minutes. His eyes look both angry and... desperate. That can't be right, you think to yourself, and you almost miss the moment you have to say, 'I do.'
''Do you take Hugh Ransom Drysdale to be your lawfully wedded husband? Do you promise to love, comfort, honor, and keep him for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and health and forsaking all others, be faithful only to him so long as you both shall live?''
''I do,'' you say almost breathless, the realization sinking in that you're about to seal your wedding to your husband with a kiss, one that you have thought many times but were sure would never happen.
Faith can be funny sometimes. And a little cruel, too. But it's mostly funny.
''I now pronounce you two married!'' the officiant says before stepping aside, ensuring he's not in the way of your and Ransom's first kiss. As you take a deep breath, you step closer, and your hand moves to Ransom's waist.
Before you can fully move to him and meet in the middle, Ransom crashes his lips onto yours, knocking the air out of your lungs before you kiss him back; this surprises you.
Despite the surprise, you kiss him back with just as much, if not more, vigor now that you have gotten a taste, and you're immediately addicted, already chasing his lips when he pulls away.
''Let's get out of here,'' you say, and Ransom nods as if a switch inside him was flipped, and you could see it in his eyes. You've seen that look before in some other men, but seeing it in your husband's eyes have you chubbing up in your pants. Ransom is a sub.
You two rush to the suite where you had gotten ready before the wedding, and you quickly close the door behind you as you push Ransom against it.
Your lips immediately find each other again, and you can feel yourself getting even harder now, your dick straining painfully against the zipper of your pants, but you ignore it for now. All you want now is to make Ransom feel good so he can make you feel even better.
Soft moans leave Ransom's lips as you kiss your way down his jaw and neck as you take off his jacket, untie his tie, and unbutton his shirt to expose his beautiful chest to you.
''You look so good, Baby. Are you going to let Daddy make you feel so good?'' you ask, and Ransom's eyes gloss over at the thought, and all he can do is nod slowly.
''Words,'' you demand, and Ransom feels himself getting harder at the demand, his submissive side feeling even better now. And it's not that he doesn't want to talk, but it feels like his whole body is on fire with pure lust, his brain has gone fuzzy from pleasure, and his throat feels filled with cotton balls.
Yet, he manages to squeak out a small yes at your demand, and you reward him with lots of praise and soft kisses on your way down, leaving a kiss between every praise, not leaving a single inch of his chest and stomach untouched.
''You're doing so well for me, listening to me. You're being such a good boy for me, Baby,'' you tell him until you have found your spot on the floor, and your hands are unzipping Ransom's pants and pulling them down to uncover his rigid member.
And when it does, your eyes almost pop out of your head from the surprise because Ransom's a lot bigger than you had anticipated, but you're determined to take every last inch of him in your mouth.
''Holy fuck...'' you whisper before wrapping your hand around his length and slowly moving up and down, earning yourself a bit of pre-cum that leaks from his tip, and you gladly lick it up.
Ransom's head falls back against the door you pushed him against with a loud thud and a groan at the feeling of your hand and mouth on him, and he almost can't take it. Almost. Because on your way down, you told him he's not allowed to cum without permission, and he wants to be your good boy so badly.
To surprise him, you take him into your mouth without warning, and the sound he makes ensures you're fully hard as well at this point, so you open your pants and take yourself out, giving your cock a few leisurely strokes.
The groans you let out at the feeling of him in your mouth are slowly creeping up Ransom's spine, his hands in fists on the side of his body to not make himself cum yet.
You slowly work more of him into your mouth until you take him altogether, thankful for your lack of gag reflex now. You stay like this for a few long seconds before pulling off him and giving Ransom his last order.
''Fuck my throat until you cum for me, Baby. And let Daddy hear how good he makes you feel,'' you say before wrapping your lips around him again, and Ransom does as you tell him, chasing his orgasm as you suck him.
The moans and groans from Ransom are almost pornographic, but it feels so fucking good. Before you know it, you're cumming with a loud cry, too, your cum spurting out in long spurts over the tiles in the room, followed closely by Ransom shooting his into your throat, letting you swallow it all.
''Good boy,'' is the last you say before cleaning him up and ensuring he's come down from his high enough to get back to the party because the two of you are supposed to cut the cake, but you were nowhere to be found.
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Ever since the wedding, Ransom hasn't changed a single bit, and he's still stuck up as ever, but now you're living together with his ass too. And that's gained you more fights than you could have ever thought.
But this evening, something felt different. Usually, when Ransom would be late, he would always let you know, but this time he didn't. And even though you don't want to admit it to yourself, you're worried.
You grab your phone again and call Ransom, but to no avail; he needs to pick up. Not even 5 minutes later, you hear the front door open, and Ransom walks in, acting like nothing was happening like you didn't call him three times to see if he's okay. Like he didn't have you worried to death about him.
''Where the fuck have you been?'' you spit out as soon as he walks into the kitchen.
''Why the fuck do you care? It's not like we like each other, so fuck off,'' Ransom spat back at you, but he knows he crossed a line. Despite this, he keeps walking, your eyes burning a hole in the back of his head.
''I care because you're my husband, Ransom. You may not like it, but you're still my husband; we're still married. I thought something had happened to you!'' you say with a raise of your voice, which has Ransom stopping in his tracks.
Despite all your fights over the littlest things, tonight is the first time you've raised your voice at him. And it has the effect you had hoped it would have because he turns around and looks at you mournfully.
''Are you seriously pouting at me? You are fucking unbelievable, Ransom. You know what? I think I'm going to have to punish you for it. Maybe that way you'll learn some actual human decency,'' you say dryly, but Ransom shakes his head.
''Did you forget who's talking here? I believe I am in charge, and you are supposed to listen to me. Get your ass upstairs and get ready in the position. You're not allowed to touch yourself tonight, and you will have to wait until I get there even to move as much as a single muscle,'' you order, and off he goes.
You sigh as you finish the dishes and put the leftovers you saved for Ransom into the fridge. You may be angry at him, but you're not inhumane. He'll have to eat later.
Ransom's been sitting in the bedroom for half an hour, and his knees are starting to hurt, but it gives him an excellent chance to think about what he did. And he did just that, so when you walk into the bedroom with only your boxer briefs still on, he looks up at you with an expectant look.
''Don't look so happy, Ransom. This isn't your punishment yet,'' you tell him, and you can't help but smile at how you see his eyes roam over your chest and abdomen to the tent you've pitched in your underwear.
As much as Ransom gets on your nerves, you still get off on the dynamic the two of you have. Ransom is the needy and subby bottom, insatiable at the best times. You are the equally needy but very giving Dom. This makes every fight worth it because you know you two have nothing but respect for the other person in these moments.
Though Ransom has a funny way of showing it.
''Have you thought about what you did?'' you ask, your voice dropping a little deeper on purpose, which has the desired effect as you see the chill going down Ransom's spine. He's almost where you want him; he needs one last push.
''Y-Yes, Daddy,'' he croaks out, and you slowly walk over to where he's sitting on the bed on his knees, his arms behind his back and his dick soft between his legs. Perfect.
''And?''
''I was h-home late and didn't t-tell you I w-would be,'' he says, a tear escaping and softly trailing down his face. You climb onto the bed and crawl your way to Ransom, grabbing his face softly in your hands, and you bring his forehead to your lips to calm him down.
''I-I'm so s-sorry, Daddy,'' he hiccups through his tears, and you know he is sorry. Seeing this side of him always made you feel a little bad for him, and you don't want him to sink into it too deep, so you pull him into your chest, ignoring all your needs right now and just calming him down.
''Sshhh, I know you are, Baby. It's okay, you're being a good boy for me right now,'' you assure him, and you wrap his hands around your waist as well, pulling him as close as you possibly can while whispering sweet words to him, and he's feeling better.
You pull away and look at him before placing a small kiss on his forehead.
''Do you want to continue with your punishment right now? If not, we will do it when you're in a better headspace,'' you say, and Ransom shakes his head. He doesn't want to continue right now.
''It's okay, come on. Let's lay down and cuddle for a bit, and then we can get some dinner in you,'' you say, but Ransom doesn't budge.
''Want you...'' he says, and this time, he looks into your eyes with pure desire. His eyes are red from crying, and his cheeks are flushed, which gives him an almost innocent look, and you feel a fire deep inside you burning for him.
Feelings you're not ready to give into. It's an arranged marriage; you shouldn't have feelings for this man, but it's getting harder to deny that you do.
Instead of the punishment, you guided Ransom slowly onto his back while giving him lots of kisses, and your lips met in a passionate, love-filled kiss that seemed to go on forever, but it was precisely what the two of you needed now.
The rest of the evening is spent wrapped up in one another, having slow vanilla sex, and it is the first time the two of you are spending your time like this.
Both of you are entirely spent at the end of the evening, and you wouldn't want it any other way. When you two were done, you took a shower together and reheated dinner for Ransom before sitting on the couch and watching TV together.
You both went to bed at the same time and shared more soft kisses and lots of cuddles and suddenly, it felt like this marriage thing might not be so bad after all. If only you could stay in this bubble forever.
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''Are you ready to go? We have dinner, remember?'' you tell Ransom, and he walks into the bedroom after getting dressed; you put on your outfit as well.
''How can I forget if you mention it every fucking second of every day?!'' Ransom says as he throws his hands up in the air. Usually, you would have reprimanded him, but he's under much stress due to this dinner, so you let it slide for now.
''Right, I'm ready to go,'' you say after fixing your hair and beard one last time, and you walk out the front door to your car, followed closely by Ransom.
''No, we're taking my car. I'm not getting in that beemer of yours,'' you sigh as you unlock your car, and Ransom sighs, so you send him a pointed look.
''Don't even think about it, Ransom. We don't have time,'' you say, and he gets into the passenger seat of your car without another word. It's quite a long drive, and after a while, you let your hand rest on Ransom's thigh without thinking about it, but Ransom tenses under your touch.
''Oh, fuck,'' you say, and you pull back, but Ransom grabs hold of your wrist and places it back on his thigh without saying a word, and he looks out the window. You can't help but let a small smile escape your lips.
Ransom runs out of your car and into the house when you arrive. He got painfully hard from your hand being so close to where he needed you the most, and he needs some relief.
''What do you think you're doing?'' you ask as you open the bathroom door, and Ransom immediately stops his actions and gets bright red at the fact that he got caught.
''C'mere, let me help you. Want to have Daddy make you feel so good?'' you ask, and Ransom nods shyly. You sink on your knees and take him into your mouth immediately, and it doesn't take long for Ransom to cum in your throat, making you swallow it all.
''Good boy,'' you say before stuffing him back into his pants and heading for dinner.
''W-What about-''
''Later. Now it's time for dinner,'' you say, and Ransom nods before following you into the dining room, where most of his family is already seated.
The conversation landed on the two of you quickly, and you answered every question without missing a beat, glancing over at Ransom repeatedly.
It isn't until Richard makes one more rude comment under his breath about the two of you that you completely snap, and a sea of emotions comes out in a steady stream.
''What is your fucking problem?! You can talk to us like normal humans if you have a problem with me and Ransom. And besides, it is because of you that ensured we're in this to begin with. We have never done anything wrong; we're just living the life that you forced upon us, so you should leave us the fuck alone. Asshole!''
With those words, you storm out of the dining room and hear Ransom say something to them as well, but you're too far away to what exactly.
You run outside and into your car, needing to escape everyone for a while. You can't look at them, and especially not your husband, so you decide to take a drive. Despite running after you as fast as he can, Ransom can only watch as you drive without him.
After about 30 minutes of driving, you stop on the side of the road, and your emotions all come out; you hit the steering wheel, crying and screaming, anything to make yourself feel better, but nothing works.
''What the fuck did I do to deserve this?! I'm fucking married to a guy who hates me, I have a shitty job, and I can't even talk to anyone without feeling like I'm out of place,'' you yell against nothing, and it feels good to finally get those feelings out, even though they're only followed by more tears.
You're ripped from your thoughts when you receive a call from Ransom, but you don't answer the first time. Immediately, he calls again, and this time, you do answer.
''The fuck do you want, Ransom? Can't you leave me alone?'' you sigh as you wipe your tears, but hearing his voice only worsens it. The small fire inside you has become a complete sea of flames, and you can't hide your feelings anymore. But neither can Ransom.
''No, I can't. And you know why? Because I fucking love you. I didn't want to admit it since we're forced into this, but I love you, okay? And I need you to come home because it's fucking unbearable without you here,'' Ransom sighs, and you can't help but laugh.
''The fuck are you laughing at?'' Ransom spits over the phone, but you can't help but laugh uncontrollably because you finally know you feel the same as he does.
''I fucking love you, Ransom. I have for years, even before the fucking fight that tore us apart. So yeah, that's why I agreed to this marriage with you. But it feels so fucking good to tell you I love you, Ransom. I always have, and I promise you every single day from now on just how much,'' you say before driving back to the Thrombey estate and picking him up.
When you finally arrived home, you two were all over each other immediately. They had the most passionate session of sex you've ever had together on the living room couch because neither of you could make it to the bedroom.
''F-fuck, still so tight for me, Baby,'' you whisper in Ransom's ear as you push in after working him open for the most significant part of an hour, drinking in every moan slipping past his lips.
''Such a perfect boy for Daddy, gonna let Daddy use your hole like the fucktoy you are, huh?'' you say with a mischievous grin on his face, and all Ransom can do is nod in agreement while you slowly push in further, groaning at the feeling of him clenching down on you as you stroke his cock.
When you're fully in, you slowly start moving in and out, making Ransom arch his back off the couch and into you, only wanting to be close to you right now.
''D-Daddy!'' he screams out as you continuously thrust against his prostate, and you stroke him through his orgasm, his cum spurting out onto his stomach and chest before you lick it up and work your tongue into his mouth so he can taste himself in your mouth.
''Gonna cum for you, Baby. Fuck, take my cum!'' you groan as you chase your high, and you shoot every last drop deep into Ransom before collapsing on top of him, whispering sweet words to him as you both come down.
Afterward, you take a relaxing bath together, exchanging sweet words and lots of 'I love you ' kisses. Finally, it feels perfect, like you live the life you've always dreamt of.
That night, you fall asleep in your husband's arms, feeling like it's meant to be. Tonight is the first night of the rest of your lives together.
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writeshite · 2 years
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Honeybee
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Summary:
His face is scrunched in mild irritation as he drives to the farmer’s market; when he parks, he places his head against the steering wheel and groans. “I don’t see the point of coming all the way here when we can have this shit delivered to us,” he grumbles. “It’s not the same, dear,” you tell him, “coming here, we get fresh air, human contact, and the benefits of vitamin D.”
Pairings:
Ransom Drsydale x Male!Reader
Tags:
Fluff | Disabled!Reader - Reader Has Chronic Pain and Uses A Cane
Words: 1027
Author's Note:
In response to having read every ransom x male reader fic thrice, I will now be bombarding the tag with fics for him. Side note: if you want to learn how to write for disabled characters, I highly recommend checking out @cripplecharacters. And please, feel free to hound me if I get anything wrong.
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Ransom’s not happy. 
He’s never been a fan of anything social, at least not without piles of money thrown in, but you'd asked and given him that look. The ‘please dear, for me,’ look. It's the look you gave him before you got him to do something he didn't want and try as he might - not that he did - Ransom could never deny his husband. 
His face is scrunched in mild irritation as he drives to the farmer’s market; when he parks, he places his head against the steering wheel and groans. “I don’t see the point of coming all the way here when we can have this shit delivered to us,” he grumbles.
“It’s not the same, dear,” you tell him, “coming here, we get fresh air, human contact, and the benefits of vitamin D.” He sticks his tongue out at you for the sarcastic quip, and you return the favor as well. 
You’re seated on the passenger side, legs outside and body half tucked away inside. Your cane is situated between your legs, and you watch Ransom take the shopping bags you'd brought, then your bag. He double-checks everything is in order, a habit you adore teasing him for; once he’s satisfied, he holds out his arm; you loop yours through it and make your way to the market’s wooden arch entrance. The wood twisted in its arched form, various patterns and shapes wound up towards the top - farmers market - the words carved more intricately than the rest of the structure.
An employee greets you by it, handing you a map of the establishment - the stalls are divided into various categories, all grouped away to avoid confusion; in between each category are resting areas, complete with benches, with the center of it all free of anything. You start at a honey stall; it’s a tad larger than most of the others and hosts its own beehive; your eyes brighten at the sight of it. Ransom sticks back - never a fan of bees - jars of honey line the expanse of the table, accompanied by cards hosting the worst bee-related puns Ransom has ever had to be subjected to. He picks one of the jars; the honey is a rich golden color and near see-through; even with the lid shut tight, the sweet smell permeates strongly.
Ransom makes a face of distaste, and you elbow him, “Don’t pretend; I know you pick honey from the jar when you think I’m not looking.” He scrunches his face, then picks another jar, a tad more pleased with its less sugary smell. The vendor offers samples, and you savor every drop, stealing some from Ransom’s share. You go with the dandelion and ​​mānuka honey, purchasing four jars of each; Ransom picks the next stall - produce - it’s longer than the previous and decked with far more content. 
Baskets of fruits and vegetables are set around it; some are stacked and arranged in groups, fruits on the left, vegetables on the right, and each group is subdivided into its own categories. An older woman is stationed there; she chops away at the produce, arranging it in various forms - animals, flowers, geometric patterns - she glances up and waves you over with a smile, “Welcome, welcome.” 
She puts her tools away, taking one of her masterpieces - a swan made of mango and apple slices - pushing it forward with disposable utensils. “Go on then, have a bite.” 
The apple skin still visible is red and drizzled in something sweet; when you bite into it, it’s crunchy, while the mango is soft. “Not bad,” Ransom mutters.
“You can just say it’s nice,” you tell him, and he shrugs. Despite his outward displeasure, Ransom enjoys the farmers market every week, it’s the same old song and dance of faux irritation, but you can see how it brightens his day to come down here. You pick another one, conversing with the vendor as Ransom goes about picking the produce; his resting face deters the other customers from getting first pick; some of them grumble but quickly shut up when they think he might have heard. You tug at Ransom’s arm, nudging your head to the side, “Come on, you gotta let other people have a turn,” you tease.
He throws in the last three mangoes with a cruel smirk, then steps aside to let other people through; you shake your head as he leads you away from the stall, the annoyed grumblings of your fellow customers behind you. You stop by one of the rest areas, correction - Ransom has you stop by one of the rest areas - the sun’s higher in the sky now, and you shrug off your, well, Ransom’s, cardigan and shove it into your bag. “Pain?”
You shake your head, “One, maybe two,” you rub your lower back, “but that’s cause these benches are so damn uncomfortable.” He chuckles at your little joke, fishing out a water bottle, “Thank you, dear.” You shake your head when he pulls out the painkillers, and after your break, you make your way to the meat vendors. 
You look to the other side of the field - the meat vendors have a much larger area than the others, much of it dedicated to refrigerators; they’re also quite busy when compared to the other stalls. Ransom really doesn’t look too happy with that, “We’ll order online,” he mutters, “No, not hearing it, you should come first anyway.”
“Hughie, the world doesn’t revolve around me,” you snark.
“My world does,” he says, taking the bottle from your hand. He slides the bag off, kneeling in front of you; he holds your leg tenderly, softly pushing his thumbs into the skin around your knee, then down your leg. When he gets to your foot, his touch becomes almost feathery as he massages your skin. It’s not the usual way he does it, more of a brief relief in case you're having any inflammations. 
You peck his forehead when he’s done, leaning forward with a gracious smile, “Thank you, Hughiebee.”
“That’s still the stupidest fucking nickname in the world,” he goes back to sit beside you. 
You grin, “Stupid nickname for my stupid husband.”
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End Note:
He's my emotional support douche, and I love him, feel free to correct me if I got anything wrong. Stay Hydrated.
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mrsrogers-world · 5 months
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Ever since this blog, I've been reblogging stuff relating to anything cevans and I thought, why not share my own little talent? Currently obsessed with Ransom Drysdale, it's only just a sketch but I'm wondering if I could turn it into a ych? But for now, here's what I got! 💖💗
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ssa-atlas-alvez · 1 year
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Whumptober Day 6 (Luke x Male reader)
No. 6 PROOF OF LIFE
Ransom Video | “I’ve got a pulse” | Screams from Across the Hall
Warning: kidnapping, ransom video, torture, hot poker, fire poker, fireplace poker, metal rod, burns, burning, clown mask, fear of clowns,
Word count: 1450
@whumptober-archive
You don't value yourself as a particularly valuable member of the team. You were there and occasionally found leads, but you never felt that you were anything special. You were no Agent Reid, after all. But you were useful. Which is why this particular situation was amusing. They had taken you, of all people, thinking it would slow down the investigation. Morons. Honestly. You knew that the team would notice that you’re gone, obviously, but they would still be able to work the case, there’s seven other members of the team. Taking one person out of the equation isn’t going to stall much. You were just worried what was going to happen to you when the unsub realised this. 
You looked up, glaring at the unsub as he walked into the room, tripod with a camera attached in hand, “Now, all I need you to do is sit here and look pathetic and useless,” He grinned, patting your cheek, “Perfect, you’ve already got it nailed,”
You glared at him. He had learnt pretty quickly that you had a smart mouth and so he duct taped your mouth shut. Despite your awkward position, you managed to flip him off. The unsub just chuckled, turning to his table, which he had placed his laptop on, ready to connect his camera to the police’s computers. He turned everything on, setting everything up ready to go when he looked up, meeting eyes with you, “Everything's ready,” He chimed. 
You swallowed, fear settling in your stomach. The sick bastard had put on a clown mask. “I heard you don’t like clowns. I can change though, if you want.” He smirked, “Just say the word.”
You glared at him, not even attempting to say anything, your mouth had been duct taped. He was just being a bastard. It didn’t matter if you did try to say anything anyway, it wasn’t going to make the unsub change. So, you decided, you would keep your dignity. “Ooh, defiant,” He teased, “I like it.”
He turned back to his computers, mildly adjusting the camera. With a sigh, he reached into  his pocket, drawing out a match box. He struck a match against the side of the box, watching it spring to life. He gazed at it for a moment, before throwing it into the fireplace and it roared to life.  The unsub absentmindedly placed three fireplace pokers into the flame. 
Looking at the camera, checking what was in frame, one more time, he turned it on. 
Garcia gasped as your face came on the screen, “Sir! Sir this is not good!” She exclaimed, placing her laptop onto the table. Emily and Rossi stared at the screen.
“Hey, have we found anything?” Luke asked, sipping his coffee as he did so. He wasn’t happy when Emily had made him take a break. You had been missing for two days, he hadn’t slept, hadn’t really eaten, he was living off of coffee and vending machine snacks. Thirty six hours in, Emily asked Matt to take Luke back to the hotel and made sure he slept and had something decent to eat. Luke was reluctant, he didn’t need to sleep. He needed to be doing something. He needed to find you. It was driving him crazy not knowing where you were, not knowing if you were okay. His eyes were bloodshot and his body ached but he pushed it aside, craning his neck to look at the laptop screen. 
His stomach dropped. You were bloodied and bruised, your hair thick with blood and sweat, clinging to your forehead. “Where is he?” He asked, his voice urgent, he turned to Garcia who was frantically typing on another laptop. “Garcia, where is he?!”
“I- I-” Garcia rushed, “I don’t know! He’s covering his tracks!” Luke dragged his hands through his hair, resting them on the back of his head as he turned to the screen once again.
“Hello there, BAU.” The unsub’s voice made Luke feel sick. Luke watched as you refused to react, simply continuing to glare at the man behind the camera. The unsub sighed, there was a small amount of fumbling before he then came into the view of the camera. He ducked under your arm, standing behind you, placing a hand on your shoulder. Luke’s jaw tightened when he saw the unsub was wearing a clown mask. 
“(Y/N) has coulrophobia,” He mumbled. Luke felt pride bubble in his stomach as you continued to stare at the camera, not reacting to the unsub’s mask. 
“You’re little team member here has been quite the hassle whilst in my… custody, let’s say,” The unsub smirked under his mask, running a hand along your back. Despite your attempts to hold it back, you shivered. “But that’s okay, really, it is. Because he’s going to learn his lesson. He’ll be nice and quiet after this. But first, we need to hear him scream a little bit - otherwise there’s no fun!”
Luke ground his teeth together. The unsub looked a little to the left of the camera before smirking.
“And so, for our first round: human body versus fire poker,” He exclaimed, “Who will win?!” He turned to you, ripping the duct tape off his mouth. “(Y/N), what do you think?”
“Fuck you.”
“Suck a foul mouth for someone in such a dire situation.” 
The unsub walks past the camera to somewhere behind it. Your heart feels like it’s in your throat. But you keep staring ahead, at the blinking red light. The team was watching. They were going to get there. Luke was watching. Luke was going to get here. 
The unsub grabbed the poker, tightening his grip as he turned to you. “I’m going to need you to take a deep breath.”
You swallowed your fear. Fear wasn’t going to help you now. It would do no good to be scared, you need to take some deep breaths and try to calm down as much as possible. You were not going to break. You were not going to let him win. You keep your eyes focused on the blinking red light, thinking of Luke. The pain is unexpected, despite you expecting it completely. It’s a red hot burning pain and it’s everywhere, not just where the poker was pressed. 
Luke shut his eyes as your screams filled his ears. He felt like he was going to be sick. “Garcia?”
“I’m nearly there,” Luke didn’t reply, just nodding.
You hadn’t felt pain like this before. The pain was unimaginable. It was a searing pain spreading throughout. And then the pain was gone and replaced with a long and heavy ache. 
The unsub returned the poker to the fire, grabbing the one next to it. “Let’s try that again.”
It takes fifteen minutes for Garcia to locate an address, after five minutes and multiple burns that will scar the unsub gets bored and he stands back for a moment; watching you try and breathe through the pain and then he grabs one of the rods, this one not hot and starts to hit you with it. As Garcia relays the address and sends it to them, Luke’s ordered to stay behind without a gun. And so when they get there, Luke’s standing by the SUV waiting for the message to come over the radio that he’s allowed in. As soon as the radio cracks to life, he’s running in. 
Tara and Spencer drag the unsub out, handcuffed. Matt’s the one that unties you, gently lowering your arms, apologising as you wince, JJ’s gently cutting the rope holding your legs to the chair. 
You stand, shaking, but refusing to let anyone think any less of you. Luke’s by your side in a matter of seconds - Emily (and Rossi) refusing to let him in until the unsub is clear of the building. His hands are on your shoulders, bringing them close to him as he gently kisses your forehead. “I was so worried baby,” He mutters, you wrap your arms around his waist, ignoring the discomfort it caused. Right now, all you wanted was to be wrapped in his arms. “I’m so sorry,”
“Why are you sorry?” You asked, moving your hand through his hair, his face buried in your shoulder.
“I couldn’t stop it,” You rolled your eyes.
“You aren’t to blame you dimwit,” You muttered, “I won’t have you bully my boyfriend like that, you know.”
Luke bit back a chuckle. “How can I make it up to you then?” He asked with a grin. 
“What about a get well kiss?” You chuckled, wincing at the pain that spread through your abdomen.
“You’re such a dork,” He muttered, gently connecting your lips. 
103 notes · View notes
buckyshusband0 · 2 years
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Mood Boards
(I’ll put the pairing & title that belongs to the mood board) 
NOTE: Please do not use these! These are for my future fics that I will be writing and posting later on!
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Dangerous Desires | Biker!Ari Levinson x Singer!Male Reader 
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Found Tapes | Andy Barber x Male Reader 
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The CEO’s Affair | CEO!Chris Evans x Married!Male Reader 
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Love Bites | Vampire!Bucky Barnes x Male Reader 
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Harvard’s Hottie | Playboy!Colin Shea x Male Reader 
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Crimson Walls | Detective!Bucky Barnes x Killer!Male Reader
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Forgotten Birthday | Professor!Ransom Drysdale x Male Reader 
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No Title Yet! | Mafia!Bucky Barnes x Male Reader 
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No Title Yet! | Dark Mechanic!Steve Rogers x Doctor!Male Reader 
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No Titles Yet! | Bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x Prince!Male Reader
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No Title Yet! | Soft Dark!Steve Rogers x Avenger!Male Reader 
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92 notes · View notes
maxxioislost · 2 years
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hold a knife to my throat while you plow me into my mattress. please Ransom.
97 notes · View notes
goldpomegranates · 2 years
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Some Sacred Shore
Will Ransome / Male!Reader
Rated E for religious imagery, allusions to period typical attitudes towards homosexuality, and explicit sexual content. Wordcount: 3.9k Also on AO3.
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Luke Garrett's invitation to a birthday party in Essex seemed uncharacteristic, and upon your arrival you find that the intention was to pit you against the village vicar in a contest of intellectual wit. Fortunately, the guests are too preoccupied to lend both of you much attention. Unfortunately, the reason for Father Ransome choosing to live out in the marshes of Aldwinter becomes abundantly clear.
† † †
The news that reached London had been unbelievable at first. Rumors of mythical beasts were nothing novel, your cousin having written you about the alleged hellhounds of Dartmoor just last year—but even tales of murderous serpents paled to the news that arrived from Essex on that dreary Monday morning. Atop your desk, written in fine cursive made slanted by haste, was an invitation. A birthday party for Michael’s widow, hosted by none other than Luke Garrett himself.
It was as odd as it was scandalous. Mrs Seaborne, more sentient trophy than woman, had never been one for parties. She was reclusive, quiet, hung on Michael’s arm with a thousand-kilometer stare that sat well with no one who noticed her reticent demeanor. Honestly, the invitation carried the stench of Garrett’s ulterior motives, scoundrel that he was, more than it did any genuine desire for celebration. While there were a million and one things you would rather do than hop on a train down to Essex, you had promised Spencer an attempt to integrate yourself into the social circles of doctors and academics in hopes of climbing the ladder of success.
And so, overnight bag packed and donning your finest suit, you made for the station.
† † † † † †
Aldwinter is, to put it nicely, a mess of a village. No amount of sidestepping spared your shoes from a muddy demise, and no amount of scrubbing them against the house’s edge could make them suitable to be worn indoors. But you weren’t raised an animal, and so you ask the nearest person who looks the vaguest bit familiar to fetch you a rag.
“You can just take your shoes off and leave them by the door. Half the people in here have already shed their dignity alongside their jackets,” said a woman with arms crossed over her chest and thick eyebrows raised. “I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Martha.”
You give her your name and offer a hand, which she takes in a firm grip. “I’m a friend of Dr Spencer. I must confess that I’m not entirely sure why Garrett extended me an invitation, but I’m appreciative of the opportunity to be here.”
And speaking of the devil. “You!” Garrett shouts from across the small room, twirling away from Mrs Seaborne in a half-drunken stumble, wine glass in hand. “My friend, I am absolutely delighted you could make it.” He swings an arm around your shoulders in overconfident camaraderie, patting your back. “Make yourself at home. There are drinks in that direction, the birthday girl is over there, Spencer’s around here somewhere but….but.” Garrett pauses, leans in conspiratorially. “You see that man over there? The one in the stuffy suit?”
You follow the direction he’s pointing towards, and you see him, leaning against a door frame, awkwardly sipping his drink. Tall, windswept despite the obvious attempt at personal grooming, the most well-dressed in a house filled with already over-dressed people.
“That,” Garrett whispers, “is Will Ransome. And he’s the reason why you’re here.”
You fix him with an impassive glare. “That’s it? Not because I’m a joy to have?”
Martha hides a laugh behind her hand. “Oh, I quite like you.”
Garrett lifts a finger. “You’re a philosopher,” he says, still clinging to you. His breath reeks of alcohol. “A brilliant one, so I’ve been told. All that deep-rooted nonsense of what we are and what have you… He. That man. He’s a vicar.”
It’s your turn to laugh, both with surprise and mild confusion. One never expects to see a man of God at a party, especially not one this rowdy. “Let me guess. You want me to engage him in conversation.”
“Exactly!”
“Why?”
“He has a way with words. Simple, sure, but inspired. I want to see him sweat, see how good his belief is when pitted against the scholarly.”
“You brought me here to antagonize a pastor,” you say, peeling Garrett’s arm off you. “I don’t think I’ll be doing that.”
“Oh, come now. It’s all in good fun! Martha, tell him.”
“I think you’ve lost your mind,” she tells Garrett. “Go. Cora’s waiting for that sixth dance you promised her this evening.” He disappears into the sparse crowd like he had never accosted you. “He’s had a bit too much to drink,” Martha says, “not that I blame him. Can I get you anything?”
Your shoes still on and frankly ruffled by the exchange, you nod. “I would like a glass of water, please.”
† † † † † †
The jaunty music and raucous laughter are more than you care for, and after giving Mrs Seaborne the impersonal gift you purchased for her from Hatchard’s, you’re ready to call it an evening and head back to the pub for the night. Your plan is thwarted however, by a knock on the kitchen door.
The vicar has to duck his way into every room, and he does so with the grace of an adolescent goat. He’s no posh bastard from the Westminster elite, and no amount of cleaning up can disguise how easy it is to picture him knee deep in mud. He greets you by name with an inquisitive arch of his eyebrows.
“Father Ransome,” you greet in turn. “A pleasure.”
“Please, just Will.”
“Have you been enjoying the evening?” you say, moving to refill your cup. “You seem to be faring better than I.”
“Not by any choice of my own. First, it was my wife who argued we stay for Cora’s sake. And then it was Dr Garrett who was most insistent that I converse with you.” Will holds up his glass to you, and despite the traces of wine still in it, you top it off with water. “Thank you.”
“I assume he’s told you all about me.”
“Only that you’re a student of philosophy. Quite the genius.”
“But…?”
Will’s mouth twists into an unpleasant half-smile. “I believe he thinks I'm illiterate.”
“Luke is a well-traveled man, and his fault is believing he knows all because of it,” you say. “He operates on one heart, and he thinks himself better than God.” You watch him intently, and marvel at his lack of affront. “As for you. You could have been a man of law, I’ve been told, but instead you turned towards faith. I’m unsure if that is wise or foolish given the times we are living in.”
“Do Plato and Aristotle offer comfort in the face of adversity?”
“Somewhat. I choose to find the comfort hidden in logic. There is strength in thought, understanding in enlightenment. I am faced with a serpent, and I do not declare that there is no such thing due to lack of evidence. Our fears and perceptions are powerful enough to make even the fantastical real.”
Will looks down at his glass, nodding thoughtfully. “Then how to differentiate between logic-based serenity and self-realization in the absence of concepts that transcend life?”
You don’t mean to gawk, hiding the ungainly expression behind a cough. “You’re much more well-read than even I gave you credit for.” Unlike Garrett, Will does not look smug. “I didn’t expect a vicar to wield the words of Nietzsche. What’s that parable about biting into the fruit of knowledge? Something about the original sin?”
“Familiar with Scripture, I see.”
“Only the basics.” The water on your tongue is blissfully cold, staving off the heat of too many people in a small space. From somewhere in the living room, Mrs Seaborne laughs, and you notice the way Will flinches at the sound. He fidgets with his glass, and it does not take a genius to put two and two together. “Why don’t we step outside? I could use the fresh air.”
Surprised by the simplicity of your proposal, Will agrees.
† † † † † †
You walk, and you listen.
The night sky is lit a radiant blue, more aqueous than the marsh you tread upon. Wisps of atmosphere cut through it like eels in search of sustenance, bringing the firmament to life. You’ve never seen anything like it, not in London, not anywhere. But the color, that stunning hue of blue, is eerily similar to that of the vicar’s eyes.
He’s a brilliant man, deceptively educated, with a fountain of knowledge nestled between his temples. He weaves truths both personal and universal, engaging in topics that would cow a lesser man of the cloth. You can see why Ambrose mourned yet respected Ransome’s decision to join the church, to move out into the middle of nowhere where people lose themselves to the whims of superstition.
“—and, quite frankly, I’m at a bit of a loss,” he says, digging at his bow tie to loosen it. “It’s as if I have been abandoned, set adrift, unable to navigate the waters I once knew so well.” Will laughs, quietly, and it’s a mirthless sound. “My apologies. I must be boring you.”
“Not at all. There is understanding that can be gained from listening in on others’ misfortunes,” you try to joke, but it falls flat. “Did these trials and tribulations begin when Mrs Seaborne arrived in Essex?”
Will stops in his tracks and gazes out towards the water. Neither of you brought your coats, and you’re beginning to feel the evening chill seep into your bones. He seems unbothered by it, however.
“I’m… unsure,” he says, and you find his lack of denial curious. “A man gleans nothing from avoiding judgment. The least he can do is renounce his sins once he’s acknowledged them.”
“And what sins need a vicar acknowledge?”
Will looks up, and a hint of shame slithers its way down your throat. He cuts a beautiful albeit tragic silhouette against the penumbra of that late hour, and you can’t help but stare. Out here, he does not look like a man of God. He is merely a man dressed in his Sunday best, a bit inebriated, searching for answers on how to best help his village. A quasi-reluctant patriarch; or, at least, one that can use a moment’s respite.
“There is no serpent,” he says, shutting his eyes, “but I can still feel its unrelenting hold on me. The fear is sickly sweet, the uncertainty oily on my skin. I long for the calm that reigned before all of this began. I long for the simplicity of Sunday service followed by supper and a meaningless walk along the shore.” Will heaves a sigh and casts you a fleeting glance. “I long… I long for the time when my flesh wasn’t so weak to temptation.”
You shove your hands into your pockets before walking down the bank to him. “A man of God is, in the end, still just a man. And his conversations with said God are of no one else’s concern. I understand that He has the ability and mercy to forgive.”
Will’s exhale mists the air. “The sentence for premeditation is far more severe.”
“Perhaps in human law.”
His expression speaks to a profound sense of torment that no man should shoulder alone. You know of pastors that have committed much more heinous crimes with less weight on their conscience, but you ascribe Will’s guilt as the mark of a good person. He is trying, he is failing, and you are riddled with compassion. 
You look over your shoulder, at the house in the distance whose interior is filled with warmth and cheer, a beacon out in the stormy sea. The rest of the world, in its bleakness, is where you have always stood, where Will has deliberately waded out to. There is something missing here, something you cannot put a finger on, or, rather, something you’re too skeptical to even consider.
But your ability to tell is yet to be wrong.
You can see it in Garrett, in the way he latches to women yet prefers the company he shares in with Spencer. You saw it in how Martha looked at Mrs Seaborne. Staring at Will, thinking back to his beautiful wife and lively children, you can feel the flicker of a flame pushing towards the realization.
“What is a man like you really doing, hiding out in the marshes?” you say, starting towards the pier, your back to him to allow him a moment to collect himself.
Will doesn’t answer, but he follows.
It’s dark beneath the deck, and you’re mindful not to get caught in the fishing nets abandoned for the night. The bright sky allows enough light for you to see, and the position in relation to the house grants you privacy. The briny air is infinitely better than the London smog you have grown accustomed to over the years, and while you prefer the gentle smells of lavender and bergamot that permeate a well lived-in home, the setting could be much worse.
Beneath the weathered wood as the tide rises, Will considers you with a wary side-glance. His nerves betray his carefully guarded secret because an invert will always recognize an invert. It’s a good hiding place, if unoriginal. Ignore the sin, pretend to be normal, pray to God for serenity.
The cotton of his shirt is stiff and scratchy, a suit seldom worn, and you wonder how he looks dressed down in homey linen. He likely returns to his house covered in mud, rugged for a vicar, and your imagination has always been both your most intimate friend and traitorous enemy. Your palm presses against his chest, fingers fanning out and catching on the buttons, and the faintest pressure has Will leaning backwards, his back pressed up against a pier.
He breathes heavy, chest fluttering as he braces his hands against the wood behind him, eyes shut tight.
“Blame it on me,” you say, stepping up to him until you’re toe to toe. You pinch a side of his bow tie, tugging on it until he finally looks at you. “Sometimes, collapsing an infected lung is the only way to cure it. 
Will stammers but you silence him with a kiss, his thin lips pressed firm together to deny you further invitation. His hands clasp your biceps, and you wait for the inevitable, for him to shove you away, to sneer at your abhorrent behavior, to cross himself and run off to his church and beg for forgiveness—but it never comes. Will holds you in place, at a respectable distance. His mouth does not move, and you debate whether or not he’s actually breathing, but that too withers into surrender when your hand not pinning him to the pier comes up to carefully stroke his cheek.
“You’re the Devil,” he says, nuzzling into your hand with a shuddering sigh.
You laugh and kiss him once again. This time, he reciprocates with no shortage of hesitation. “You don’t believe that,” you say, taking your lips to where the collar of his shirt meets feverishly warm skin, “just how you don’t believe in a serpent bringing out the worst in your flock.”
The grip on your arms ease, Will’s thumbs rubbing circles over the fabric of your jacket. He brings you closer, chests pressed together, and you look up at him, marveling, slightly flustered at the intensity of his attention. “I shouldn’t,” he says with a lick of the lips, eyes dimming with raw desire. “We should get back. You’re shivering. And the tide is—” Will trails off into a heavy sigh, your leg slipping between his and pressing up against his groin. “Please.”
You unbutton his jacket, your hands roaming to drink in the heat he emanates while you pepper kisses along the underside of his chin, enjoying the feeling of his beard. You live for the sensation, for the roughness that accompanies tender exchanges. “Please, what, Father?” You embrace him, hold him tightly, whisper hotly into his ear. “Whatever is said, whatever we do, shall stay between us and God.”
Will surges forward, his mouth on yours with uncontained fervor, desperate whines drowned out by the wind rippling the water. His hands cradle your face, a touch both grounding and fleeting, as his teeth graze your bottom lip. You open for him, for his kiss, his tongue, and it is your turn to fall into the maw of unbridled lust. Cold water against your shoes proves to be a ticking clock.
You shove him against the pier again and Will gives, legs parting just enough to accommodate you between them. His hands float along the parts of you he can reach yet hesitate at your hips. You pause with a grin, pressing your nose to his. “Go on.”
A brief hint of embarrassment flashes in Will’s eyes, but he’s too far gone to give it further thought. Calloused hands grope your ass and you moan, rutting up against him to feel the bulge in his pants press against your groin. It robs you both of breath, suffuses you both with heat, and you take. You take without holding back.
You loosen your tie as Will fumbles with his pants, pulling his erection free and giving it a generous stroke, eyes fluttering shut once more. You watch him, the pinched set of his brow and the tight frown, the way his shoulders shake. Those last dredges of reluctance fighting a losing battle.
“It’s called free will for a reason,” you say. “You have the power to walk away.”
He shakes his head, swallowing with an audible click. “I need you,” he whispers, the sound nearly swept away by the breeze.
The confession rests heavy in your chest, the delirious hunger of a handsome stranger who, in another lifetime, you would have courted. But as it stands, he is a man of God, a married one at that, and while you have never sunk this low you wonder why the grip he has around your heart is as powerful as it is.
You distract him with a kiss, a long and languid one that grows messy, with spit gathering for either of you to lap up with debauched abandon. You wrap a hand around his cock and swallow his shocked moan, settle between his thighs as you fumble with your own fly. “Quiet,” you say, shimming until you’re pressed just right to slip him between your thighs. “Sound carries.”
Will nods but it’s a thoughtless gesture, his arms wrapping around your back to hold you tightly to him, face buried against the crook of your neck. He pants as his hips stutter forward, aborted little sounds falling out of him as you counter his thrusts with stilted movements of your own. You squeeze your legs tighter and he whimpers, fingertips scrambling across your back.
A hand wraps around your own prick and you startle, surprised that he even has the forethought to return the pleasure. Will’s hold is awkward, unpracticed, but you forgive it. You can’t help the moan that bubbles out of you, and neither can you ignore the sudden trace of wetness his cockhead leaves between your thighs.
“I wish I could take you properly,” you tell him, and his pace falters, frantic. “Undressed, beneath me, slick you with oil.” You chuckle. “Anoint you.” Will’s teeth latch onto your shoulder and it’s almost enough to push you over the edge, but not quite. “Would you go to your knees for me, Father? Let me bestow upon you a true sense of rapturous ecstasy?”
“Please,” he mutters, moving to press his forehead to yours, wide eyes unfocused, not a hint of blue left in them. “Please.” You grip his wrist. “What? What is it?”
Straining to listen, only the distant sound of a jaunty tune reaches your ears. You give his hip enough of a push to dislodge him, and Will looks devastated by the loss of contact. However, you do not give him the chance to speak his piece. With a firm hand on his shoulder, you give him a look that leaves no room for misunderstanding.
Water laps at your ankles, and ruins Will’s pants as he goes to his knees before you.
His hair is soft as it spills through your fingers, giving it the gentlest tug that has him panting for more. You trace your thumb down his cheekbone, your touch worshipful, driven to speechlessness at how beautiful he truly is. Will is painfully vulnerable, surrendering more than just his body to you at the very moment.
Dragging a fingertip along his bottom lip, you encourage him to open his mouth. He obeys, hands clasped at his lap in involuntary prayer. You feed him, placing yourself on his tongue and ordering him to hold, to commune with his god before taking it into his belly. The good reverend remains still, eyes open, awaiting his deliverance.
Fingers tight in his hair, you push your hips forward until he hums a complaint, his breaths coming in short huffs through his nose as you sink all the way in. You hold him there, his mouth spread wide around you. He’s tight, hot, and wet, and your thighs quiver from the profanity of it. This blasphemous encounter out in the marshes, beneath a bright sky, away from God’s eyes.
“Please yourself,” you tell him, easing back just enough for him to cough with relief. “Think of my hand, or my mouth on you in turn.”
You brace your free hand against the pier, the other still in his hair as you hear rather than see Will stroking himself at a punishing pace. His moans around you send shocks of electric delight up your spine, turning your limbs to liquid as you draw your pleasure from him, and him from you.
You make sure to stifle his sounds by being deep in his mouth, nudging the back of his throat, when he climaxes. Each grunt is punctuated by a rough jerk of his arm, a sound so guttural you find yourself nearing your own orgasm. You offer Will a small mercy, unaccustomed as he is, by withdrawing and taking yourself in hand.
His eyes are wide and gleaming, jaw slack as he gazes up at you in abject exaltation, as if you have offered him his salvation. And that is enough. You stroke yourself to completion, spilling across his swollen lips and reddened face. Will makes no move to wipe himself clean, just allows your essence to dribble down his chin and onto his shirt, rendering every piece of his suit ruined.
The tide is coming in, the water refusing to wait for two sinners to gather the courage, or the want, to pray for forgiveness. What is done and is done, and in the ebb of lust comes the twinge of guilt—not for any religious figure, not for the church, but for those who must never learn of this encounter. When clarity sets, your heart aches for the man who holds onto your coattails, shivering from the cold both external and inside.
No amount of wine can fix the vicar. No amount of prayer can change the societal standards that must be abided by. But here, beneath a pier in Aldwinter, at least a shred of comfort can be shared between two men who cannot change fate.
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Neighborly Love!
Andy Barber x Male Reader
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Anon Requested: "Daddy Dom Andy Barber x Male Reader. Reader is Andy’s slightly shorter and smaller neighbor who’s been offering Andy emotional support after his divorce. Secret Crush develops between them, which Andy acts on after catching the reader checking him out. Kinks: Soft Daddy Andy, Dirty Talk, Rimming, Beard Kink, minor Scent Kink, praise kink, Breeding. I don’t think the background details I outlined in the request need to be made more specific, but I do have some ideas about the actual relationship. Reader is Andy’s lonely but kind next door neighbor and starts going out of his way to spend time with him because Andy is very clearly depressed and they both need a friend. Though they become very close, neither wants to make a move romantically (Reader doesn’t want to ruin the friendship, Andy doesn’t think Reader reciprocates his feelings). But they can’t help their crushes, so when Andy catches on to Reader checking him out, it’s open season. He starts flirting with Reader, subtly at first and then ramping it up until Andy is giving hints about what he wants to do to Reader in bed. Reader tries to tell himself he’s imagining things, but Andy knows what he’s doing. After a almost a week of flirting and teasing, Andy invites Reader over for the evening. Andy wears tight-fitting clothes, including a sleeveless workout shirt, and masculine cologne with no deodorant. It’s so obviously sexual that Reader can barely think in Andy’s presence. After dinner, he cuddles Reader on the couch during a movie, stealing intimate touches and finally a kiss. Reader happily accepts Andy’s attentions and completely melts when Andy calls himself Daddy. Andy gently manhandles his new lover, carrying him to bed and calling him pet names (Kitten and Good Boy) All original kinks apply 😉 The morning after, Reader officially becomes Andy’s new, submissive slut boyfriend. In his head, Andy is surprised to find himself already imagining them married.... ------------------------------------------------------------
Warnings: Smut🔞, daddy Dom Andy, top Andy, bottom male reader, soft Dom daddy Andy, Rimming, Beard kink, Scent kink, Breeding, praise kink
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This story is told from your's or Andy's POV: ------------------------------------------------------------
Sorry for any spelling errors I did NOT proof read! Just ignore them I guess ...
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M/N POV:
I was sitting in my room by the window reading a book when I heard a car door slam, I looked down out my window and saw my neighbor Andy I was excited to see him even though we've only talked like 2 times before I had the biggest crush on him.
I set my book down and ran down the stairs into the kitchen and grabbed the warm cookies that I made for him about 30 minutes ago knowing he would be home soon. Once I had them in my hands I quickly ran to my door and went outside luckily I was able to catch him before he went inside.
M/N: "Andy"
Andy: "hey M/N, how was your day?"
M/N: "it was good, I made you some cookies, chocolate chip"
I handed the container of cookies to him and he took them with a small smile on his face. I didn't really think he would take them because he looked like he was upset when I saw his car pull into the driveway I wanted to give him a hug but I think he wouldn't like that and would end up avoiding me.
Andy: "thank you M/N, you didn't have to do that"
M/N: "well I felt like it, I just wanted to be nice"
Andy: "well thank you, I- I'm gonna go now"
M/N: "oh um- uh ok bye Andy, see you later"
Andy: "bye M/N, see ya"
And just like that he turns and walks inside of his house leaving me alone, I decide to walk back to my house and not stand there looking like an idiot. I've always tried to be nice to Andy not only because I have the biggest crush on him but also because he seems really lonely and depressed ever since his wife left him and took their son with her. If I didn't have a chance at dating him I at least wanted to be friends with him but he didn't seem like he wanted to be friends with me either way I wasn't gonna give up that easily I was gonna keep trying.
Over the next month I tried to talk to him every day and honestly it got easier and easier the more I talked to him. The more I spoke to him every day the happier he seemed and pretty soon he started inviting me over to his house or he would come to my house. Pretty soon we exchanged phone numbers and he started to open up more and he soon started telling me about how he felt when Laurie left him and took Jacob with him.
I saw how truly upset he was over that matter and that made me feel terrible, I tried to comfort him the best I could and after a while that honestly seemed to be working I soon saw a happier Andy and that made me happy too.
We were able to bring out the better in each other, too lonely people soon became the best of friends and it felt great to finally have someone by my side.
Even though I had feelings for him I didn't want to tell him because I didn't wanna ruin our friendship, I had really had a real friend before so now that I had one I couldn't loose him so I acted as if I didn't have feelings for him but that wasn't working out so well little did I know he had feelings for me too...
Andy's POV:
Me and M/N were sitting in my living room watching TV on the couch, after we started to hang out a lot I began to catch feelings for him but I can't tell him because pretty sure he doesn't feel the same way and I don't want him to stop hanging out with me because I tell him how I really feel.
It's better to keep it to myself, or so I thought....
While I'm trying to watch the TV I notice him looking at me from the corner of my eye but he wasn't looking at my face I noticed he was looking at my chest and my stomach but then I noticed his eyes travel down to my crotch.
Holy fuck is M/N checking me out?
I couldn't believe it, did he think I was hot? Does he maybe have feelings for me?
What's happening right now?
I try to act like I don't notice and I pay attention to the movie but as more time passed and he continues to check me out I decide to finally say something to try and tease him.
Andy: "take a picture it might last longer"
M/N: "wha- I- I'm sor- sorry I was just- uh, sorry"
Andy: "it's fine, I get it I'm hot"
After I said that I gave M/N a wink causing him to blush and look back at the TV, after a couple of minutes of sitting there quietly and watching the TV I pull the oldest trick in the book and fake yawn putting my arm around his shoulder.
Over the next couple of days I begin to flirt more and more with M/N, I love the way that it makes him blush everytime I say something even remotely flirting especially when I say things sexual. His cheeks turn a dark shade of pink everytime I even get close to him I can tell that he has a crush on me now and I'm not gonna stop until he's mine.
M/N POV:
I was almost positive that I was going insane, it seemed like Andy was flirting with me but I had to be imagining it there was no way that he was really flirting with me I mean he's him and I'm me and it's impossible that he would ever like me.
Ever since the night that he caught me checking him out he's been acting this way and it's kinda starting to creep me out because I generally don't know if I'm imagining it or if I'm taking this out of context because I really don't think he would ever have feelings for me. EVER. It's just insane...
Andy wanted to watch a movie with me tonight which I thought was gonna be akward after what happened the last time we watched a movie together, either way I was getting ready brushing my hair in the mirror before I headed out the door and across the street to Andy's house and knocked on the door waiting patiently for him to answer when he finally did I was shocked to see him wearing a skin tight shirt that was partially unbuttoned at the top showing off his hairy chest when I looked down I saw he was also wearing skin tight pants that showed off his huge bulge.
He was wearing a sleeveless workout shirt and I could smell his strong Cologne it was very masculine too as I got closer to him I could also smell his pits, he wasn't wearing any deodorant I don't know why but the smell of his sweaty pits was kinda starting to turn me on.
Andy: "M/N, welcome"
M/N: "hey Andy, thanks for inviting me over"
Andy: "no problem, come on in"
I went inside and smelt something that made my mouth water.
M/N: "what's that smell, it smells amazing"
Andy: "oh uh, I made us dinner I thought we could eat something before we watch the movie"
M/N: "AWW, that's sweet of you"
He lead me into the kitchen and I saw a delicious meal sitting on the table, he made spaghetti and garlic bread it smelt so freaking good as we sat down he poured us both some red wine. As we both started eating I couldn't help but let out a low moan because of how good the food tasted.
Andy: "I'm glad you like it"
M/N: "it's amazing"
We continue eating silently and as soon as we finish the food and the wine Andy puts out plates in the sink and grabs my hand leading me to the living room and he goes over to the tv and puts a movie in the DVD player and presses play on it.
we soon started watching the movie on the couch it was a romantic comedy that I've never seen before but Andy said it was good. after a while Andy wrapped his arm around my shoulders just like he did the last time but this time I snuggled into him, we continued to watch the movie when suddenly a sec scene came on I was kinda shocked at how dirty it was I then was surprised with what Andy said next.
Andy: "god, I'd love to do that to you"
I was completely shocked and kinda turned on...
M/N: "wh- what? You w- would?"
Andy: "hell yeah"
Before I can think of what to say next he grabs me and quickly starts kissing me, at first I'm shocked and I don't move but after a couple seconds I start to kiss him back he licks my bottom lip asking for entrance before his tongue invades my mouth.
This is the most amazing kiss ever I couldn't believe it was actually happening.
I was kissing Andy Barber.....
Andy's POV:
He was actually kissing me I couldn't believe it he really did like me, I was starting to think he didn't like me after him doing nothing about all the flirting but he did like me I've never been happier than I am right now M/N was actually kissing me.
We soon started taking off are clothes and throwing them onto the floor leaving us both in nothing but our underwear M/N pulled away and looked at my chest placing his hand on my left pec.
M/N: "your so muscular"
Andy: "you like Daddy's muscles?"
As I said that he froze I thought I creeped him out until I saw him blush and look down, when I looked down too I noticed that he was trying to cover his evident boner I couldn't believe I made him hard.
I wrapped my arms around him and lifted him up bridal style.
Andy: "why don't we take this to the bedroom kitten?"
I carried him up the stairs and into my bedroom and tossed him onto the bed telling him to get on his hands and knees which he did pretty quickly I might add God his ass looked amazing. As soon as he arched his back my dick hardened, I pulled my boxer briefs down letting my cock spring free the cold air sent a tingle down my cock as I bent down face level to M/N's ass.
I smacked his ass watching it jiggle and then I ripped his tight underwear revealing his tight little asshole I loved the way it clenched around nothing just wanting to be filled by something.
Now this is wear the real FUN begins...
M/N POV:
After he ripped my underwear he licks my hole causing a shiver to go up my spine, he continues to eat me out and soon shoves a finger in me trying to get me ready for the size of his dick.
He soon starts to add more and more fingers stretching me open wider. His fingers feel amazing inside me but the more he fingers me the more annoyed I get because all I want is to feel his dick inside me and I'm starting to get impatient.
He continues to finger me for a couple more minutes before I finally feel him line up his cock with my hole and begin to slowly push in.
His cock feels amazing it's so big.
He starts fucking into me slowly pushing his cock in and pulling it out.
He starts moving a little faster fucking into me, his cock starts ramming into my prostate causing me to let out a loud screech like moan I've never felt this much pleasure in my entire life.
He starts fucking into me faster and faster and pretty soon it feels like he's plowing me at a mile per second his cock is so big I swear I could combust at any given second.
Andy: "your holes so fucking tight, you have such a tight slutty hole"
I moan like a little bitch in heat as he continues to fuck me from behind.
Even though he just started fucking me he pulls out leaving me feeling empty, my hole clenches just looking for something to fill it.
I turn my head around and see Andy get onto his knees and suddenly I feel his tongue against my hole as he starts eating me out. I love the way his beard feels scratching against my ass as he eats my ass like there's no tomorrow.
Andy: "you like that bitch? You like when I eat your faggit ass"
M/N: "mhmm, ye- yes Daddy"
He starts eating me out again, his beard scratching against my asshole his tongue feels amazing inside my hole.
He moans as he eats me out causing a vibration to be sent through my ass.
Andy is really a sex god. after a while of him continuing to eat me out he stops and stands up and rams his dick into my ass as I let out a high pitched squeal and bury my face in the bed.
Andy: "yeah, take my fat cock you fucking whore"
M/N: "mmhmmmhnmm"
Andy: "you live taking daddy's cock, don't ya?"
I try to say something but all I can do is let out a little whine because the pleasure of his huge dick.
Andy: "your taking daddy's cock so well baby boy"
Suddenly he comes to a stop and pulls his cock out and smacks my ass, I switch positions and lay on my neck lifting up my legs so he had access to my hole he slowly shoves his dick back into my hole and starts fucking me without any mercy.
M/N: "Har- Harder Da- Daddy!"
As he continues to fuck me he leans down and starts kissing me, I gladly kiss back I love the way his beard feels scratching against my face and he kisses me he pulls up and continues to fuck me standing up pounding me so hard the mattress shakes. The more he pounds into my prostate I feel as if I'm gonna cum untouched so I begin to jerk off trying to cum on my own terms.
Andy: "you like that slut?"
M/N: "ye- yes dad- daddy, I love you- your dick"
Andy: "want me to breed your tight little ass?"
M/N: "ye- yes Daddy bre- breed my as- ass"
I continue to jerk off trying to chase my orgasm as he fucks me into the mattress.
Suddenly he pulls his dick completely out before slamming it back in ramming right into my prostate.
He pounds into me as I continue jerking off, I feel my orgasm approaching and within a matter of seconds I cum shooting my load all over my stomach and chest and he fucks me into Oblivion.
I stare up at him as he fucks me I can't help but watch the sweat dripping down his chest, I know it's weird but God I love the smell of his stench I've never been attracted to sweat but with him it's different he's perfect. As I stare at the sweat I move my eyes up and stare at his sexy beard 'oh my god I love his beard' I think to myself.
He slams his dick into my prostate over and over again I can tell he's close to his orgasm.
Andy: "sh- shit baby boy I- I'm clo- close, I'm gon- gonna cum"
M/N: "cu- cum daddy, fi- fill me with y- y- your seed"
Andy: "gon- gonna breed yo- your tig- tight ass"
He continues to pound into me for a couple more seconds before he cums inside me filling my hole with his his warm white seed shooting rope after rope of his creamy delicious cum in me.
He continues to fuck me trying to ride out his high.
He soon pulls out and lays down right next to me, both of us panting trying to catch our breaths the was the most amazing sex I've had in my entire life Andy really know how to please a guy. He wraps his arms around me and we cuddle close looking into each other's eyes before he finally decides to say something to me.
Andy: "that was amazing baby boy"
M/N: "yeah, it was"
Andy: "you did so well kitten"
M/N: "thank you daddy"
He fell asleep before me and like the creep I am i decided to watch him sleep, I've learned that he is a wild sleeper he moves around a lot so within 20 minutes he was on the other side of the bed.
I continue to watch him for a little while longer before I soon end up falling asleep dreaming of Andy and his sexy ass beard.
Andy's POV:
I woke up pretty early in the morning and immediately looked over to see M/N sleeping next to me peacefully cuddled up with his pillow. I know it was probably weird just to stare at him while he sleeps but I couldn't help it he was just so beautiful.
The more I looked at him to more I realized how much I really like him.
Then out of nowhere I pictured me and him in a church bother wearing suits, he was wearing a white one while I wore a classic black one just then it hit me like a tun of bricks I was picturing us getting married and I was overwhelmed with happiness at this I knew I wanted to spend my life with this man I just hope he feels the same.
I continue to stare at him as if it's the last time I'll ever see him I just wanna memorize his beautiful face. God I could stare at him all day!
M/N POV:
I had woke up to the sun shining in my eyes then I remembered what happened with Andy and I immediately felt an overwhelming amount of happiness I felt a pain in my ass from how hard he fucked me last night but I was so happy about what happened that I honestly didn't care.
I looked over and saw Andy wide awake and staring at me with a big smile on his face.
Andy: "good morning kitten"
M/N: "morning daddy"
He blushed when I called him that. Then he wrapped his arm around my waist and he quickly pulled me into his chest.
Andy: "you did so well last night baby, are you in any pain?"
M/N: "my ass hurts but I'll be ok"
We both giggled at my response and went quiet for a little bit before Andy decided to say something....
Andy: "baby, I have a question to ask you"
M/N: "you can ask me anything Andy"
Andy: "w- Will you b- be my boyf- boyfriend?"
I was shocked to see him stuttering like this but his question also made me incredibly happy, I still couldn't believe that this was all happening it was literally a dream come true.
M/N: "of course I will"
He smiled cheek to cheek and quickly leaned in and gave me a kiss on the forehead.
Andy: "your gonna be the best boyfriend ever M/N"
M/N: "yup, the best and the most submissive slut boyfriend on this earth"
We both giggled and held onto each other I knew we should probably be getting ready for the day by now but all I wanted to do was have him hold me....
------------------------------------------------------------ I hope you guys liked this story, I know that it's not the best but I tried lmao, remember requests are open if you guys have any ideas send them in...
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hausofchrisevans · 2 years
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Hey y’all any Chris Evans request? (preferably fluff)
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khami-the-raccoon · 2 months
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Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children Masterlist
Check my rules before requesting
Please be specific at requesting! :)
MPHFPC characters x male! Peculiar! reader
Summary: some Headcanons about the peculiar children and teens, and how would they react at the arrival of a new peculiar boy, whose peculiarity is turning into a deer.
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fandomfluffandfuck · 3 months
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you wrote once abt a scene with ransom drysdale x dom mommy and it was fucking PHENOMENAL but i was thinking about what you think it would be like with a daddy instead of a mommy
related to this, and this
you'll probably enjoy this, too
I'm not taking requests right now, I know it's confusing because there are some thoughts people send me that I can't help but jump in on, and I reblog older requests. But. Yes. I'm not currently.
This is a really interesting thought, though! 👀
And there certainly needs to be more x male reader content out there. So, maybe eventually, I'll go back to this in a larger drabble 🤷🏻‍♂️
I think it'd be much the same, though. I purely imagine Ransom as a subby fucking mess. After years and years of being spoiled and living the high life, he's weak for being denied. Cock cages and permission to orgasm are the top of his kink list. Nothing makes him go quite as glass eyed and stupid as being told he has to earn his orgasms and then, even when he does earn them, one slip up of being bratty and... oh, isn't that unfortunate? Maybe Daddy will have to add another week onto your stay in that chastity cage. Isn't that sad, Hugh?
He'll absolutely try to make it up to you by slobbering on your dick, but you just make him blush and squirm, acting like it does nothing for you by degrading him, saying he's not pleasing you. He's all enthusiasm, no finesse. And, fuck, look at the mess you're making! C'mon, step up, Ransom. You're not making a good case for yourself.
That really lights the fire under his ass, leaving him pouting, lower lip wobbling, and teary-eyed. Determined to brat harder until he just... breaks. Sobbing and shaking and clinging to you, begging for forgiveness. He's trying so hard! It's not faaair!
Thanks for the ask! 😘
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stargazingfangirl18 · 5 months
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The Incubus
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Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Fem!Reader Word Count: 1,864 Summary: At first, you thought you were dreaming. Warnings: AU. Explicit language. Explicit sexual content. Incubus!Ransom. Somnophilia. Dub con at first. Paranormal elements. Oral sex (f receiving). Restraints. Unprotected sex. Lots of cum 😏 Cum play. 
A/N: Despite all the NA content filling my blog atm, I still wanted to slot some fic in because a hoe's gotta hoe, ja feel?! And, well, this one may have gotten away from me. #sorrynotsorry. Enjoy! ❤️
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Your dream was just beginning to slip away, your consciousness rising to the surface of wakefulness as the remnants of your dream!desire lingered, your body aching and desperate and–
A tongue dragged up your pussy, spreading your slippery folds open before swirling around your clit and making you moan.
Confused–because it felt so real–you struggled to open your eyes, and then they shot wide open as a male groan vibrated against your cunt.
Whimpering in fear, you gazed down at the naked stranger between your thighs, a scream caught in your throat as you watched his unnaturally dark eyes twinkle at you.
He was beautiful, all pale skin and perfectly carved muscles, his features sharp and tinted with a rosy flush. His hair was light brown and swept away from his face, all but a few wild strands that had escaped during his activities.
You tried to twist away from him, but he held you tight with a soft chuckle, rising up from between your legs as you opened your mouth to scream.
But no sound came out. 
You tried again, your terror intensifying as your gaze met his and he lifted a finger to his plump, shining lips in a shh gesture.
"Can't have you ruining the fun before we even get started, sweet girl." He flicked his hand and two long ribbons of silk appeared out of thin air, twining around each of your wrists and securing you to your headboard in mere seconds. 
You whined in fright, surprised when the soft noise sounded and tried again to scream. That louder sound again caught in your throat, making your brows furrow as you nervously glanced at the man kneeling over you.
"I don't want to miss all of your pretty sounds," he smirked, "Especially once you're taking my cock."
You shook your head–vehemently–fruitlessly pulling on your restraints as he began to crawl closer and stretch out over you. Your chest heaved with a silenced sob, tears spilling over and streaking down your temples as he cooed at you. 
"Shh, shh, shh, don't be scared, I'm going to take such good care of you." His knuckles were a light caress against your cheek as his eyes danced all over your face, avidly drinking in your fear and confusion. 
He dipped close, gently knocking his nose against yours before his lips trailed along your cheek until his mouth was just beside your ear. 
"My true name is beyond your comprehension, human, but you may call me Ransom." He nipped at your ear, grinning as you squeaked before pulling back so he could meet your wide gaze. "You'll need something to scream when I'm taking you apart."
You shook your head again, breath hitching as Ransom's fingers danced down the length of your throat before he tweaked your nipple. 
He huffed a quiet laugh when you whined, your back bowing slightly as you squirmed beneath him. 
"I can smell the way your pussy weeps for me," he purred, his hand coasting down your stomach before he was suddenly cupping your cunt. His long fingers were nimble and talented as he played with you, until your seep was pooling at your entrance and soaking his hand. "Mmm, so responsive."
Ransom shifted over you, planting one hand on the bed beside your head and using the other to stroke his cock. You couldn't help but be mesmerized by the length and girth of him, the way pre-cum relentlessly dribbled from his tip before he was guiding himself to your entrance.
His eyes were fixated on your face as the crown of his cock caught against your drippy hole. And you were just as focused on him, your gaze wide and scared but you weren't struggling anymore and you didn't try to move away when he slowly pushed inside you.
The stretch and burn was unlike anything you had ever felt before and you gasped sharply, the sound seeming to echo around your dark bedroom as your head fell back and your eyes squeezed shut. 
Ransom hummed at the feel of your tight, hot pussy slowly swallowing every inch of him, and he didn't stop his patient invasion until he was bottoming out with a grunt and you were softly whimpering at just how deep inside you he was.
And the size of him.
It was like he knew what you were thinking–and feeling–as Ransom gripped your thighs and tugged you closer. 
"Mmmm, you haven't had anyone quite as big as me, have you?" he cooed. "It's okay, this sweet body will get used to it, your pussy's already squeezing me so tight, like she never wants to let me go. Bet you can feel me everywhere, huh?" 
You moaned as his big, warm hand pressed against your belly, somehow making the already overwhelming feel of him filling you up more intense.
When Ransom started to move against you with slow, gentle rocks of his hips, just enough to create some friction but not actually pulling out of you or fucking you much at all, you whined your impatience, the wanting spark deep inside of you kindling to life as you arched your back and silently begged for more.
Laughing, Ransom gave it to you, finally pulling out until just the crown of his cock was stretching your hole wide for him and then shoving back in hard–to the hilt–and rocking you up the bed with the force of it as you gasped out a quiet, "Yes!"
"There you go, sweet one, let it feel good," Ransom purred, settling into a slow, deep rhythm that had you both moaning and writhing against each other.
Just as you started to reach that floaty, desperate state, your toes curling and your thighs trembling, Ransom pulled out and flipped you over onto your belly. 
You didn't even care that the bonds around your wrists pulled tighter, hinging on painful, instead eagerly rocking back against Ransom as he shoved one of your knees up high and drove into you hard.
The cry that fell from your lips was inhuman–carnal and desperate–as you dropped your sweaty forehead against your arm and rocked back into every deep plunge of Ransom's hips.
He was panting now, too, as he kissed and nipped along your neck and shoulders. One of his big hands snuck beneath your belly, then lower, his fingers strumming at your clit as he continued to pummel you with his cock. 
He had you right on the edge and knew it, reveling in every high-pitched, "ah!" you gave him as he drove into you hard and deep, wanting you to really feel him, and remember him for days.
Just as your pussy began to flutter and your cries grew more mindless, Ransom went still, laughing against your shoulder as you whined your distress and disappointment. 
"Beg me to let you cum," he breathed against your sweaty cheek. "Go on, I wanna hear it."
He barely finished his command before you were babbling at him, so ridiculously desperate to cum and tip over the edge he had been pushing you toward for what felt like an eternity. 
"Please!" you begged. "Oh my god, please! Please, please, please!"
"Mmm, good girl," Ransom whispered against your ear, and then he was pounding into you hard and fast, the sound of skin slapping rising up around you as your bed squeaked with the onslaught of his passion.
Your orgasm was earth shattering–unnaturally so–your body rippling with the kind of exquisite, mind-melting pleasure that you had never experienced before. The intensity of it tore a ragged scream from your lips, this one Ransom allowing to fall free as you trembled and writhed beneath him, lost to your ecstasy.
"Fuck, honey, you feel so good," he groaned, his hips stilling long enough to bask in the feel of your pussy clamping hard around his cock, fluttering as you creamed all over him with sweet, quiet whines and gasps. 
Grunting, Ransom finally started chasing his own release, gripping the back of your neck and holding you prone beneath him as he slammed into you over and over again. 
This time it wasn't the sound of skin slapping against skin that rose up around you both, but instead the loud squelching of your sloppy, well-fucked pussy taking Ransom's cock over and over again. 
You couldn't even find it in you to be embarrassed as you moaned and drooled into your sheets, your eyes fluttering as another small orgasm washed over you.
A moment later, Ransom reached his own peak with a throaty moan, shoving into you hard–balls deep–and lingering as you felt the warmth of his cum bloom deep inside you. 
"Take it, take it all," he panted, his hips pumping more slowly now as he continued to empty his unnaturally large load inside of you. 
He groaned as he drove himself deep within your hot, velvety walls, feeling more of his seed spill within your still fluttering pussy. Ransom's head fell back on a husky moan, big hands falling to your hips and gripping hard as he gave a few more thrusts and grinds before he was finally spent.
After a moment of regaining his breath, Ransom pulled out and turned you over, lips quirking at the way you looked so blissfully fucked out and dazed as your lashes fluttered against your cheeks and your chest heaved from exertion.
Sitting back on his haunches, Ransom shoved your legs open wide, his fingers tugging your folds apart and watching with a mesmerized sort of satisfaction as his cum began to dribble from your cunt.
And dribble, and dribble, and dribble.
Distantly, you were amazed by how much of it there was, feeling it seep out of you and shivering as Ransom smeared the mess all around, until you gifted him a soft, overstimulated whine that had him grinning. 
"You're marked by me now," he rumbled, giving your pussy a gentle pat before he was rubbing his wet, cum-covered hand up along your stomach and between your breasts as he stretched out over you. 
His handsome face hovered over yours as he gripped your throat and murmured, "Just think of me and tonight and you'll summon me to you." 
As the bonds around your wrists suddenly disappeared, Ransom dipped low and kissed you. His lips and tongue worked against yours passionately–almost ruthlessly–drawing a ragged whimper from the depths of your throat as you raised your hands and weakly clung to him. 
He was grinning when he finally pulled away, his hair messily flopping over his forehead and his lips kiss swollen and cherry pink. There was a warmth in his dark eyes that wasn't there when he first appeared, especially when you whined and tried to tug him back against you. 
Laughing, Ransom just smoothed a hand over your head and pressed a kiss to your forehead, murmuring against your skin, "I'm sure I'll be seeing you again real soon."
He caressed your temple with his fingers, the light touch making your eyes grow unnaturally heavy as exhaustion suddenly seeped through every inch of you. 
You sank back against the mattress, your eyes drooping–heavier and heavier–and between one blink and the next, Ransom was gone. 
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