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Chris Evans X F!reader - Blog Posts

2 years ago

Never stop chasing me 🐕

Never Stop Chasing Me 🐕
Never Stop Chasing Me 🐕

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Reader

Warnings: Overprotective!Ransom, softdom!Ransom, angst, Beefy!Ransom, mentions of mean!Ransom, cunnilingus, praise, body worship, p in v

Nicknames: Puppy

Word count: 2.9k

You’ve been in love with Ransom for as long as he could remember. It was obvious to everyone around you, even to him but he ignored it. He liked feeling wanted. He liked the look of pure admiration in your eyes. He liked how you’d follow him around like a puppy. And he loved your adorable jealous face when he flirted with others. But lately you haven’t been coming around, you’ve been avoiding him completely. Then he sees you with another man. He can’t bear it, he needs you back.

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Never Stop Chasing Me 🐕

Wherever Ransom went, you weren’t far behind. At the country club? You were there. At social events? You were there. Shopping for new clothes? You were definitely there; carrying his bags, giving opinions on outfits and keeping him company. Your behaviour had earned you the nickname ‘Puppy’, well at least, that was what the nicer people called you. Others, who were less nice, called you a more explicit word of the same origin. The nickname had stuck, even Ransom called you it now ‘Puppy, carry this.’ or ‘Puppy, follow me.’ or ‘Puppy, put that down’ They’d all become frequent commands. He liked having a little puppy to follow him everywhere, despite him disliking dogs—he liked you, though he would never show it. He loved the fact that no matter what he did you’d always run back to him. He adored the sad puppy eyes you always gave him; whenever he abandoned you to go off with others or whenever he said something inherently mean to you like insulting your outfit, hair or just general appearance that day—he loved the sight of tears threatening to spill from your big eyes and your lip quivering at his insults, it was one of his favourite activities. He felt powerful when he did it, something he always lacked at home—but you slotted right into that category of need perfectly. He valued your friendship deep, deep down in his seemingly non existent heart. He refused to show it though, because to show it was to admit that he needed you and he didn’t need anyone…Or did he?

But then it happened the next day, and the day after that and then just like that a week had passed. A bleak, lonely week. He sat snuggled in a sweater on one of the cushiony, cream chairs next to the roaring fireplace. He’d been on the same page of the latest fashion mag for almost an hour, staring blankly at the model; pretending to himself that he was reading it and that he totally was not waiting for you to reply to his 30th text or 50th missed call.

But then it happened the next day, and the day after that and then just like that a week had passed. A bleak, lonely week. He sat snuggled in a sweater on one of the cushiony, cream chairs next to the roaring fireplace. He’d been on the same page of the latest fashion mag for almost an hour, staring blankly at the model; pretending to himself that he was reading it and that he totally was not waiting for you to reply to his 30th text or 50th missed call.

He had caved on the third day. He couldn’t bare the silence any more. It was making him antsy, his leg was continually bouncing and for the first time in forever he’d begun biting his nails again—a habit he’d had to try so hard to curb. God damn he missed you. He missed your presence, the soft chime of your sing-song tone, the light pitter patter of your feet as you followed closely behind him and your scent—he missed that most—it was so comforting, he’d instantly relax when he smelt you. He was crumbling without it. He threw down the magazine, onto the small black table that divided the chairs, in frustration throwing his head back, resting an arm on his forehead and letting out an elongated Ughh. He was bored and lonely. Argh he hates that word: Lonely. Why the fuck should he, Hugh Ransom Drysdale, have to be lonely? It was a ridiculous concept. The words Drysdale and lonely do not align, they should never be placed next to each other. It was sacrilege. But somehow it happened.

He needed to fuck someone.

That was the conclusion he had come to, that’s why he was here at ‘Miss Scarlet’ ‘The hottest bar in town’ is what every stupid tourist site called it. To Ransom, it was exclusively known as ‘the bird nest’ because it was one of the only places he went to pick up women. Aside from the country club, of course, but he'd almost run entirely through its supply of hot milfs looking to cheat on their husbands. So now he was here, nursing a drink whilst he flirted with a hot blonde at the bar. That’s when he saw you. More dressed up than he’d ever seen you before, giggling at a guy's jokes, touching his arm whilst he kissed along your delicate face. He squeezed the glass in his hand so hard that it threatened to shatter. He slammed his glass into the polished bar top, leaving his maraschino cherry. And he never left his maraschino cherry.

Before he knew it he was striding over to you, uncaring about the looks he was getting as he parted the crowd like the Red Sea to get to you. You were stunned at the sight of him; his eyes narrowed, dark and dangerous, chest heaving, hair slightly tousled and nostrils flared as he stood tall, towering over you and the man you were fooling around with “Get up, Puppy. We’re leaving.” He demanded, waiting for you to comply. You remained seated “Puppy. Get up. Now.” He ordered sneering at the fact that he had to repeat himself, he had never had to do that with you. You had always followed commands the second they were uttered. You ignored him for the second time, he was livid. “Hey you. Yeah you, fuck face, who else I’m I talking to? Take a fucking walk okay? Just piss off.” the man shifted in his seat but you grabbed his wrist, looking at him with your puppy eyes. That broke him.

His pride took the back seat, as walked into the booth seizing your wrist and using little of his strength to pull you in his chest. His other hand drifting to the small of your back, your scent hit him. Fuck he needed you, more than he’d needed anyone before. He’d never noticed how much bigger he was than you, how he practically engulfed you. It made him hard. He picked you up, cradling you in his arms- as if you were a fragile baby—and grabbed your stuff before marching out of the bar towards his prized BMW. He set you down in the passenger seat and then got into the drivers side. You started to frantically pull at the door handle, trying to get out of here. You couldn’t be in here with him, you could feel all the words you’d wished you said tangling inside you; getting trapped in you throat forming a painful lump as your lip wobbled and tears rolled down your cheeks “Open the door! Ransom!” You thought you sounded fine aside from when you said his name, your voice quaked and you let out a little whimper. He noticed though and it made his heart ache at the sound of your pain. Finally you gave up on the door.

“The child lock is on, you won’t be running from me, Puppy. I need to talk to you, let’s get to my house first.” You didn’t respond “Do your seatbelt up.” You made no movement to do so, crossing your arms over your chest and looking out the window. Ransom leaned across you, buckling you in. He swiped at the tears on the cheek facing him, telling you it was going to be okay before turning the key and starting the drive back to his house.

You were silent the whole journey, aside from your sobs that you attempted to muffle in the sleeve of your auburn sweater. He put some calming music on low volume hoping to calm you. It didn’t work. Your sobs just became more ragged, he could see your whole body shaking in his peripheral vision as he pulled up to the house.

He immediately got out of the car, wasting no time as he practically ran to your side. Throwing open the door, swiftly unbuckling your seat belt and pressing you back into his chest, rocking you like an infant and shushing you as he rubbed soothing circles into your back. He locked the car and walked up to his house, struggling to unlock the door. He finally did, kicking the door open and shutting it ungracefully behind him as he entered the living room setting you down on the couch. He finally looked at your face. It was red and wrecked with tears and snot that you had attempted to rub away with your sleeve. You hiccuped as more tears came, the gravity of the situation crushing your chest pushing all your emotions out of you, you tried to cover yourself, to curl in on yourself so he couldn’t see your disheveled state as you unwound before him. He plopped down next to you and pulled you close “Y/N you need to look at me, okay? We need to talk about this. I need to know why you left.”

You slowly let down your arms “why I left? Ransom y-you k-know why I left.” You choked looking at him incredulously. He stared at you dumbfounded, he had no idea. “You make me feel s-so insignificant, you’re always so mean to m-me despite e-everything I do for y-you and you always ignore m-me and make me feel like I don’t even… I don’t even e-exist.” You cursed yourself for stuttering, you looked and sounded pitiful. You whimpered as his hand stroked your cheek, leaning into his cool hand for relief from the sweltering warmth that was stifling you.

“I never knew you felt like that. I was so lonely without you, Puppy.”

“Stop it.” You sniffled, face scrunching up in anger as you pulled away from his touch

“Stop what?”

“Calling me Puppy. I hate it. You always use it to make fun of me, you hate dogs Ransom so it’s your way of saying you h-hate me.” You mumble in a strained voice, a fresh stream of salty tears ran down your face as you choked painfully on the tight knot in your throat, a sob wracking your body as he squeezed you tighter into his muscular chest .

“I’m not making fun of you. I call you Puppy because you follow me around like one. I love you. This week without you made me realise that. I can’t be without you, my life falls to pieces when I don’t have you here. I love you, Puppy. I can’t see you with another man, it hurt so much and it made me so fucking angry.” He had to stop the anger from over taking him, he didn’t want to scare you, but just picturing that guy putting his lips on you made him want to ravish you. He began kissing your tears away and wiped your nose with a tissue from the table “No more crying okay? Because you’re making me cry too.” And it was true there were actual tears running down his face, for the first time ever he was actually crying. Your tiny hand cupped his face, marvelling at the tears that were actually falling from his eyes “I’ve known you loved me ever since we became friends. But I liked you chasing me.”

“You’re such an asshole Ransom.” You chuckled tucking yourself into the crook of his neck, he soon removed you.

“I know, but I’m your asshole, Puppy.” You swooned at the idea of him being yours, you’d always prayed the day would come when he’d say he loved you and now your dream had come true. His head dipped down just enough to be at level with yours and then he kissed you, curling his rough fingers into your hair as he deepened the kiss. It had started as an innocent kiss, but there was nothing innocent about the way his tongue crept into your mouth or the little moan you let out as he lightly tugged your hair. It metamorphosed into teeth and steamy gasps for air between kisses, your tongues thrashing together with insatiable hunger, as he pushed you back into the couch; your head resting against the arm rest as he continued to devour you. He finally pulled away and admired his handy work. Your lips were red and swollen and your eyes were clouded with lust, practically gawking at him as you shifted uncomfortably pleading for him to continue. Those puppy eyes would be the death of him.

He threw his cable knit sweater to the ground and slipped between your legs, tearing a hole in your tights and pushing your panties to the side. “Ransom you don’t have to do that.” You exclaimed, pushing at his head and squeezing your thighs closed, his strong hands parted them.

“Today is about you. I need to show you how much I love you, Puppy, and the best way to show you is with my mouth.” He ran his tongue between your dripping folds, he let out a deep moan when the taste of you reached him “So fucking sweet.” He growled, pushing his tongue into your clenching hole. One of his hands drifted down your clit, gathering some of your slick before circling the little bud of nerves as he attacked the spongy sweet spot inside of you. You threw your head back, your hands scrambling to take hold of his silky locks. Even his hair felt expensive. You drove your hips into his mouth forcing him further into you.

“Feels so good.” You pant as he pulls out his tongue and replaces it with his fingers, continuing to attack the spot that made your toes curl. His lips closed around your clit licking, sucking and biting ever so gently. He flicked his tongue over your pearl, relishing in your mewls

“That’s it, Puppy, you’re close. Come on my face. I want to taste you. Come.” He ordered, attacking you clit with new found vigour as your hips raised up off the sofa your thighs shook as the using warmth inside you came to its peak. You screamed as he abused your clit even through your orgasm, squirting all over his face. He lapped at you a few times before pulling away. Cold air kissing your tepid, wet pussy sending goosebumps across your skin. Ransom's face was glistening with your slick and his lips were swollen and red. He pulled your tights, underwear and skirt all at once and pulled your sweater over your head, leaving your nude body completely bare to his wandering gaze “you’re gorgeous.” He uttered, not intending for you to hear, stroking his calloused palms against your smooth skin, running his hand over every single curve and dip “I want to worship you, I’ll open a temple for just me and you because you are my goddess. I need to worship you.” You covered your face in embarrassment, he pulled your arms away from your face. “Don’t do that with me, Puppy, I want to see every single one of your beautiful expressions.” He cooed as he undid his pinstripe slacks and pulled down his boxers freeing his length that had been begging to escape, it was heavy and long with a thick vein tracing up the shaft. It twitched as he took a hold of the thick shaft, hovering it over your lower stomach “I’m going to fill you so we’ll, Puppy.” He rasped before nudging the head at your entrance. He pushed his whole length in with a grunt, his dick stretching your walls, relishing in your cries as your back arched further into him. Your hands wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer, sucking his shoulder. The scent of his cologne weaved it’s way into your lungs, it was an intoxicating woody magnolia with a hint of vanilla—he smelt like an expensive candle from bath and body works. It was so comforting. You nibbled his neck and he let out a groan and ruts so deep into you that your breath catches in your throat, you let out a high pitched yelp which melts into a moan as he grinds his tip against your cervix a mind numbing sensation blows through you as his nails dig into your hips his girthy cock perfectly rubbing against all the right spots.

your legs clamped around him, drawing him deeper into you, your fingers taking down his back leaving angry red streaks in their wake. You threw your head back, your mouth gaping open in a silent wail “You’re close, Puppy. Me too. Come whenever you want, I’m right behind you.” He moaned, bracing himself on his elbows on top of you.

“Gonna come! Gonna comeee Ransom!” You squealed, he squeezed your clit between his fingers. Plasmid starburst exploded behind your eyelids, sweat collecting at your clavicle as a pleasurable numbness coats your whole being. Ransom fucked you through your orgasm, his thrust becoming unquardinated reaching his peak with a grunt. His messed up hair, damp with sweat drags across your forehead as his lips connect with yours in a compassionate kiss. You let your eyelids fall closed.

Ransom cleaned you up with a warm rag and carried you up to his room, he wanted you to feel safe, to feel comfortable, to feel wanted. He stroked your sleeping face, trying to memorise your peaceful expression. He never wanted to see you upset ever again, he promised he wouldn’t cause you sadness. The only tears he wanted to see was from the pleasure he gave you “Never stop chasing me. I need you, Puppy.” He whispered, placing a kiss on your forehead and leaning back letting out a content sigh. All he needed was you.

Never Stop Chasing Me 🐕

Tag list: @alina02 @unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men @petesey @cevansgurl @getwellsoontana


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