#I don’t think I have an attitude problem

[plaidos]

when TME people dismiss transmisogyny theory & transfeminism as “petty infighting in the trans community” they are framing it this way because our points are true! if they disagreed with our analysis of data (that transfems are more likely to be homeless, less likely to get job opportunities, paid less, experience greater levels of violence than transmascs, experience greater housing insecurity etc) then they would say as much, or seek data to prove the reverse is actually true — but they don’t do that, they dismiss the relative privilege gap within the trans community & transmisogynistic discrimination as auxiliary to the “main problem” which is trans people being treated as different to cis people.

so the argument being made here is “we can care about misogynistic attitudes in the trans community when transmascs have full access to male privilege” which i think is pretty obviously bunk, antifeminist, transmisogynistic nonsense when you consider it for a second; this is a desire for the relationship between transmascs and transfems to mirror the relationship between cis men and cis women in society (ignoring the fact that this is already the unbalanced relationship between our two groups).

“that’s just petty infighting” is basically a way of saying “i know the data says that trans women are treated worse, but i don’t care, you have to deal with that, and if you complain, you’re the one tearing the trans community apart, not me”.

[comraderoscoes]

i think it is nasty and disappointing that your response to black people and poc calling you out on your behaviour and attitude towards lewis is with a post littered with patronisation, saying you won’t pander (is if addressing your harmful behaviour is “pandering”) to anyone but yourself and essentially saying ~ if you don’t like me, fuck off ~

your posts don’t happen in a vacuum. you don’t have some innate right to pick apart and hypothesise with racist undertones on lewis’s personality, relationship to his family, and even his trauma free from criticism.

apologising is free. addressing your own thoughts and behaviours is free. turning it around on us and saying it’s our fault for giving you influence and we’re the problem? nasty.

[nislost]

bae where you at😞 | chapter 5

warnings: suggestive

🪼🪼🪼🪼🪼🪼🪼🪼🪼🪼🪼🪼🪼🪼🪼🪼🪼

as you are walking to class you make sure to take quick glances searching for a recognizable face of a certain person. with no luck of finding said person and the sight of your classroom coming into view you sigh and decide you’ll check after class ends.

walking out of class with jeno next to you, the conversation between you both is lively, but you make sure to pay attention to the people around. “y/n.” you hear a recognizable voice that stops you in your tracks. turning around you see intak with a frown on his face. sensing that jeno was going to do something you grab his wrist and smile “i’ll be fine, you can head off without me” your words cause jeno to frown even more “are you sure” he says raising a brow. all you do is nod, he sighs and tells you to text him if you need him before walking off.

looking at the tall man in front of you who just so happens to have gotten closer you raise a brow “what do you want?” the curiosity and anxiousness filling your voice. “we gotta talk.” intak says in a stern voice that you aren’t surprised by. next thing you know you’re in a verbal arguement in the middle of the hall with intak. passerby’s look at you two with annoyance and confusion.

“fuck you intak!” you yell out and turn away, but intak grabs your wrist and yanks you back to him. “don’t you dare turn away from me.” anger fills his voice and you can tell he’s absolutely fuming which causes you to get nervous. while the both of you continue to stand in the hall arguing two figures are walking in the same hall.

“markkkk just help me find her” haechan pouts holding onto marks arm. “dude i don’t even know what she looks like” mark says obviously annoyed and rips his arm away from haechan’s hold. haechan whips his phone out, goes to your twitter, and shows mark a picture of you. mark’s eyes widen “no way she wants to date YOU?!” he yells out grabbing haechan’s phone to look closer. “what is that supposed to mean.” haechan raises a brow as mark opens his mouth to say something his attention is directed to two figures arguing ahead of him. “what’s going on over there?” haechan asks curious, as they walk closer he recognizes the girl. “MARK THATS HER” he whisper yells grabbing mark tightly.

“intak let go!” they both hear you yell watching as you struggle to get out of the taller man’s grasp. before mark can even open his mouth haechan is already walking over there “w-wait..haechan!” mark whisper yells slightly freaking out ‘he’s gonna get his ass whooped..’ his thoughts already playing out a scene of haechan getting pummeled.

haechan comes up from behind you and grabs intak’s wrist “hey when a lady asks you to let go of her you should” haechan pouts. intak shakes haechan’s grip off which means he finally let go of your wrist. “and who are you?” intak questions with attitude “her boyfriend” haechan smiles as you turn around and gasp “you’re here…” you say quietly under your breath. haechan looks down at you and smiles sweetly “you okay?” he asks tilting his head slightly all you do is nod too speechless by how gorgeous he looks in person.

intak scoffs “yeah right” he rolls his eyes “look dude you don’t gotta pretend, she’s not even good at girlfriend shit.” you look at intak annoyed “if you’re talking about what i THINK you’re talking about then you better shut your mouth quick, because i have no problem telling people how you’d call me mommy in bed” you scoff placing a hand on your hip. intak’s jaw drops and he looks around at the people who are watching. “it’s not true!” he yells out running off.

you giggle and turn around to a shocked haechan. “nah that’s some freaky shit” he mumbles causing you to scoff “oh please you look like you’d call me mommy too” you pat his chest “thanks by the way” you place a kiss on his cheek and walk away.

mark comes up from behind haechan and wraps a arm around his neck “dude.” he says obviously shocked, but no one is more shocked than haechan. he deadass looks like this emoji 😧.

notes: i hope my writing is okay😞

previous / next

taglist: @t-102 @ypoom151999 @snoopyjimin @elsbunny @mr1833 @stqrgr7 @injunnie-lemon @theandypark @defzcl @yewshi @dudekiss3r @rihaee @multifandomania @iamsimplyasimp @antosaurius

if your user is bright that means i couldn’t tag you💔

[authenticbunni]

My highlights from “Power of the subconscious mind”

These highlights are from a book made in 1963 By Joseph Murphy, Who taught this around the us, and has given regular people that had little idea about it result of their manifestations, if this gets enough notes then I’ll make another part with the success stories from the book. The words in green are my own, for you to further understand or Apply it to modern day manifestation

Never use the terms, "I can't afford it" or "I can't do this." Your subconscious mind takes you at your word and sees to it that you do not have the money or the ability to do what you want to do. Affirm, "I can do all things through the power of my subconscious mind."

Still the wheels of your mind, relax, let go, and quietly affirm: "My subconscious knows the answer. It is responding to me now. I give thanks because I know the infinite intelligence of my subconscious knows all things and is revealing the perfect answer to me now. My real conviction is now setting free the majesty and glory of my subconscious mind. I rejoice that it is so."

Whether the object of your faith (religion) is real or false, you will get results. Your subconscious mind responds to the thought in your mind. Look upon faith as a thought in your mind, and that will suffice (be enough or adequate).

I wanted to know his method, so I asked him why he re-peated the words prior to sleep (SATS). Here is his reply, "The kinetic action of the subconscious mind continues throughout your sleep-time period. Hence, give the subconscious mind something good to work on as you drop off into slumber." This was a very wise answer. In thinking of harmony and perfect health, he never mentioned his trouble by name.

Apply the power of prayer therapy (This can be an affirmation/vaunt too) in your life. Choose a certain plan, idea, or mental picture. Mentally and emotionally unite with that idea, and as you remain faithful to your mental attitude, your prayer will be answered.

Power goes into our word according to the feeling and faith behind it. When we realize the power that moves the world is moving on our behalf and is backing up our word, our confidence and assurance grow. You do not try and add power to power; therefore, there must be no mental striving, coercion, force, or mental wrestling (basically desperation, I would explain it but it’s too much, you sorta kinda have to read the book to get it :/).

To affirm is to state that it is so, and as you maintain this attitude of mind as true, regardless of all evidence to the contrary, you will receive an answer to your prayer.

Similarly, your subconscious mind is the master mechanic, the all-wise one, who knows ways and means of healing any or-gan of your body, as well as your affairs. Decree health, and your subconscious will establish it, but relaxation is the key. "Easy does it." Do not be concerned with details and means, but know the end result. Get the feel of the happy solution to your problem whether it is health, finances, or employment (these were like the big concerns in the mid 1900s, you can replace these with your desires). Remember how you felt after you had recovered from a severe state of illness (replace that with your desire). Bear in mind that your feeling is the touchstone of all subconscious demonstration. Your new idea must be felt subjectively in a finished state, not the future, but as coming about now.

using your subconscious mind you infer no opponent, you use no will power. You imagine the end and the freedom state. You will find your intellect trying to get in the way, but persist in maintaining a simple, childlike, miracle-making faith. Picture yourself without the ailment (this means like illness, but you don’t have to worry abt this word) or problem. Imagine the emotional accompaniment of the freedom state you crave. Cut out all red tape (hard stuff or complex manifesting routine/self concept) from the process. The simple way is the best.

Do not weaken your prayer by saying, "I wish I might be healed." "I hope so." Your feeling about the work to be done is "the boss." Harmony is yours. Know that health is yours. Be-come intelligent by becoming a vehicle for the infinite healing power of the subconscious mind. Pass on the idea of health to your subconscious mind to the point of conviction; then relax. Get yourself off your hands. Say to the condition and circum-stance, "This, too, shall pass." Through relaxation you impress your subconscious mind enabling the kinetic energy behind the idea to take over and bring it into concrete realization.

[soelstress]

Ambivalent Research

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x female!reader

Summary: Working with Ransom was never easy, so why did you think a joint research trip would be any different?

Word count: 3.5k

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI , nsfw , sex/smut, p in v sex , unprotected sex , oral sex (f receiving) , vaginal fingering , some language

A/N 1 - This is my first joint submission for @steviebbboi 200 Followers Celebration Writing Challenge and @yenzys-lucky-charm & @sweater-daddiesdumbdork Horny Hoes Hootenanny. Sorry it's last minute!

A/N 2 - Prompts - - Enemies to lovers - "Slower, baby, I'm not going anywhere" - "We're both adults, we can share a bed for one night" - "Are you fucking kidding me?" - Withholding - getting scared during a horror movie

As a bonus, I asked Yenzy for two spins on the trick-or-treat wheel of potential doom... and for this one I chose the pillow fight!

A/N 3 - Do not Steal, Copy or Plagiarize any part of my work - GIF taken from google but page was listed for @writemarvelousthings

A/N 4 - Please let me know if I've missed a warning, knowing me it's more than likely. Hope you all enjoy ☺️

“Are you fucking kidding me?” The annoyed shout caused silence to fall as you stepped into the rustic lobby of the lodge. Optimistically, you had hoped that this trip would go smoothly… but of course nothing ever went to plan when he was involved, you thought with a disappointed sigh. “You’re fucking with me, right?” As you walked towards the check-in desk, you saw a staff member trying to apologize profusely to the person causing the ruckus. Any other person would probably see an exquisitely dressed, well groomed handsome man. All you saw was your boss Harlan Thrombey’s grandson, your fellow researcher and the biggest pain in your ass. 

Don’t-call-me-Hugh ‘Ransom’ Drysdale. When Harlan had said that Ransom would be working with you to research for Harlan’s next few mystery novels, you were filled with dread. From information you’d gleaned, Ransom was considered to be the black sheep of the family, a trust fund prick as they so lovingly called him. When asked, Harlan admitted that Ransom never had a job, only having worked as his research assistant for a summer. It was agreed between you and Harlan that you would have seniority, something you were grateful for as Ransom had been a reluctant participant to start, doing minimal work except for when he took every opportunity to cause trouble for you. He was an arrogant, self important conceited jerk who you wanted to kill… until things reached a peak one day. When Ransom had complained once again about working, you had lost all patience and your filter. “Fine! If you’re happy to keep sponging off your grandfather’s legacy and just remain a Drysdale in the self imposed so-called shadow of your parents rather than make something of yourself by your own efforts, then stop wasting my time and go!” From that day, Ransom had committed to contributing as much as possible. His work ethic might have improved… but he still annoyed you whenever the chance arose.

You subtly jabbed his side upon reaching the desk which caused his glare to focus on you. “Oops! Excuse me, Mr Drysdale. What seems to be the problem?” You offered your name to the staff member, the name you saw from his tag was Paul, who quickly found yours and Ransom’s booking were for the same company.

Another member of staff appeared behind Paul, radiating authority and a zero tolerance for nonsense attitude. Now this was someone who commanded respect, unlike the entitled idiot next to you whose gaze would have you murdered a million times over if looks could kill. “As my colleague Paul already explained to Mr Drysdale, unfortunately the pipes in his suite have burst, rendering the room unusable. Due to other bookings and events being reserved prior to yours, there are no other rooms available for tonight. We have called other hotels in the area, and found another suite at - “

”At a hotel 45 minutes away” Ransom interrupted. “Look, I need to be here for work. I don’t think you realize how important this could be for you, so why don’t you - “

”Share my suite” Three gazes focused on you though your attention was on the one that could potentially - and almost certainly would - make things more difficult. “We can share a room for a night”. Part of your brain screamed in horror and rebellion at the thought of sharing a room with him, but the other part scrambled to minimize the damage the arrogant asshole could cause with his big mouth and even bigger ego. Ransom opened his mouth to argue but when you jabbed him again and raised a brow, he knew to shut up. Or rather his version of shutting up which was to grumble and whine as he stomped over to the elevators. Rolling your eyes, you offered a small smile to the two staff members. “I’m so sorry about him, he shouldn't have spoken to you that way”.

Paul smiled at you gratefully, the weight of the world seemed to have dropped from his shoulders. “We have been trained to deal with such situations ma’am”.

You shook your head. “Just because a customer is paying for a service doesn’t give them the right to speak to you like that. Again, I’m very sorry and will be mentioning how professionally you handled this to my boss”.

”Thank you ma’am. Of course the suite will be refunded and due to the inconvenience, dinner is complimentary”. You thanked them profusely and headed to the elevator where Ransom fidgeted impatiently.

“So when should I get that refund?” Ransom huffed, pushing the call button.

You eyed him incredulously, somehow still amazed by his ego. ”You realise that Harlan will receive the refund, seeing as he paid?” Before you both stepped into the elevator, you pulled out your phone to call your boss. Upon hearing his greeting, a smile graced your lips. “Hello Harlan”

”Ah good afternoon dear girl”. You could hear the formality being replaced with fondness, a rare occurrence from what you had observed of Harlan. “I trust you and my grandson arrived safely at the lodge?” 

“Yes, though there is a slight change in plans”. Briefly, you informed him about the room being refunded and Ransom sharing a room with you instead of having to leave the area.

“Oh dear. I appreciate you being so accommodating, especially as I had wanted you both to specifically research the lodge and surrounding neighborhood for me. I must apologize in advance for my grandsons behaviour, as I know he seems to enjoy unnecessarily needling you”

”As long as I won’t be held accountable for any retaliation for the duration of this trip, short of bodily harm or murder”. You grinned as Harlan chuckled and Ransom gave you the side eye. You bid Harlan a good evening, ending the call.

”Retaliation huh? Now why would my dear Grandfather agree to that?” Ransom leaned back against the elevator wall. Your irritation flared at his casual arrogance. 

“Because he knows you ‘enjoy unnecessarily needling’ me Drysdale, and yes those were his exact words”. Inhaling deeply, you stood straight and held your ground. “Being a researcher is challenging enough, but to work for one as renowned as Harlan Thrombey is the chance of a lifetime and I’d be a fool to let anything ruin the opportunity. Which is what I told him when I applied for the role. After my interview and a few months of working for him, he said that he appreciated my honesty and work ethic, but also recognised I have no patience for drama or bullshit - a good deal of which is found within his own family, much to his disappointment”. Every word you spoke was true, Harlan had said all of this to you. Though you had overheard the specifics about his family while he was speaking to his caregiver Marta but you had met all of them in the few years you worked for Harlan. 

A dark brown arched. “Oh? And just what drama are you referring to?” With a ding, the elevator doors opened to your floor and Ransom hesitated before gesturing for you to move first. Finding your door a few strides down the corridor, you stopped and pulled the key card from your pocket. Opening the door, you waved for Ransom to precede you. 

”Take your pick, from your parents to your Uncle Walt or Aunt Joni. They all have their own drama. Though I wonder about how Harlan would react to hearing how much damage his eldest grandson could have caused by opening his big mouth without thinking. Newsflash Drysdale - any dramas linked to Harlan Thrombey or Blood Like Wine would be damaging. Those are the two names paying your income… and the only names worth mentioning. I’ve been doing this job for some time, so I’ll make it easy for you - despite what you, your mother or father may say no one has ever heard the name Drysdale with recognition outside of your social circle”.

Ransom's face darkened at the mention of his immediate family. “Hey, don’t compare me to those two. I asked Grandfather to show me the ropes for this business, so I could decide if it was something I wanted to do myself. But if by some small chance Grandfather leaves the company to me and not that idiot Walt, I’ve no intention to say that I’ve done my own work from the ground up. I’d say it’s Grandfathers and I’m just continuing his legacy”. A chuckle from you had him frowning. “What?”

”I think hell just froze over because I agree with you”. And you did. It irritated you that Linda, Ransom’s mother and Harlan’s eldest child, claimed to have built her business from the ground up by herself when in actuality she had used Harlan's money. And her husband wasn’t much better, you saw Richard’s eyes wander when you visited Harlan at his estate. All of the family repulsed you, trying to constantly outdo one another whilst trying to impress Harlan. But hearing Ransom say that he would honour and continue Harlan’s legacy rather than try to claim it for his own softened you slightly. 

Ransom had walked into the main area with a small seating area against the wall but a large king size bed dominated the space, facing beautiful views outside the windows. “You gotta be shitting me” he groaned, almost as if in pain.

When you saw the size of the couch, you knew that neither of you would be sleeping on it. It was soft and squashy looking, but more for sitting on than sleeping. Which really left you with one option. “For Gods’ sake. We’re both adults, we can share a bed for one night”. He glanced at you with an indecipherable look before sighing and stalking off to the bathroom and closing the door. Unsure whether to check on him after the look in his deep blue eyes, you hesitated. Oh yes, along with your annoyance of him came the reality that he really was a handsome bastard. Not that you’d ever tell him that. Dark hair swept off an angular face with soft pink lips and eyes to drown in, he really had won the genetic lottery. But his appearance aside, you had shared a few soft moments with him after the family gatherings he attended. Sometimes you would gently rub his back or pat his shoulder to ease the tension and resentment radiating off him. There were moments that you wanted to verbally comfort or reassure him, but after the brief physical contact he would pull away and annoy you before walking away. Part of you knew it was a defence mechanism, lashing out because it was all he knew. This time you decided to give him space.  

After eating dinner and making a plan to explore the area the next day, you changed into your pajamas - a matching set of cotton shorts and tank top -  and sat to watch a horror movie that you discovered had used the lodge you were currently staying at as a filming location. Harlan knew you were thorough in your research, so encouraged you to investigate any adaptations made to avoid plagiarism. You hated horror movies, much preferring a thriller or a mystery. But this was your job. As you sat watching, you hugged your pillow to your chest. Your heart began to pound watching the lead female edge into the dark room - 

and jumped as something grabbed you. Reacting on instinct, you swung out with your pillow and walloped whatever it was that had grabbed you. Surprised and amused blue eyes met yours. “Seriously? You hit me… with a pillow?”

Embarrassment was chased away by irritation. “Seriously” you mimicked his voice with a scowl. “You decided to scare me while watching a horror movie? Real mature, Drysdale”. 

“Pot, meet kettle” he huffed, grabbing his pillow and whacking you back.

It might have been immature, childish, just downright idiotic… but this man existed just to make your life a living hell. And you’d had reassurances from Harlan that any retribution this weekend would not be held accountable, So you decided the hell with it. And whacked him repeatedly with your pillow. Ransom was caught off guard for a moment before retaliating, making every effort to hit you with his pillow. At one point, you had stolen Ransom's pillow and struggled to keep hold of yours, Ransom in close proximity. Both your eyes locked as you panted, straining to win the pillow. 

The next moment the pillow was thrown aside and you were under Ransom, grabbing desperately at his hair, his sweater - anything to bring him closer. Your mouths clashed in a heated battle for dominance, filled with teeth and tongue. One arm propped his torso up to keep his weight off you while the other slid around your waist and pulled you against him. 

Once again your brain screamed at you - why the hell were you kissing Ransom Drysdale? More importantly, why the hell were you enjoying it so much? But your heart pounded loudly, drowning out your screaming thoughts and focusing on Ransom - how good his lips felt against yours, how smooth his hands felt gliding over your flesh, how he ground against you as desperately as you were to him. “Too many goddamn clothes” he hissed, yanking your top over your head and immediately latched his lips onto a nipple, fingers tweaking the other. Your back arched, pushing yourself closer to him. Desperate to feel his skin on yours you tugged at his sweater before he pulled back with a curse, almost ripping it off and tossing it aside before plunging his mouth to yours. His denim clad crotch ground against you, causing you to moan at the feel of his erection. Ransom pulled your shorts off, exposing you to him. His finger drifted up your thighs and across your folds before slowly sinking into your heat. He groaned against your lips, pushing in a few times before adding a second finger and curling them against your inner wall. 

His fingers worked a steady rhythm inside you as his palm rubbed against your clit. You moaned when a wave of pressure began to slowly build, rising to crest through you… and you whimpered when his hand stopped moving altogether. Desperate for friction you tried to grind your hips against his hand but he pulled it away, raising his head to look at his wet fingers. “Hmm.. I think you could be a little wetter, dear girl” he crooned, lightly mocking Harlan's usual endearment. When a snarl started to leave your throat, his fingers returned to the previous rhythm and any fight left you. His lips glided from one breast to the other, his tongue teasing and tasting your skin in time with his digits. The wave of pleasure built again, threatening to consume you and just as you tasted the first hint of release Ransom stopped again. You heard a soft chuckle which only fueled your frustration at being denied.

”Drysdale. So help me, if you don’t make me cum right now-” a soft brush over your clit briefly interrupted your threat. “I know a half a dozen ways to end you without weapons or toxins” your growl turned into a breathless whimper when he blew softly onto your pulsing heat. Looking down, you could see him watching you inches from where you needed him.

”Is one of those ways smothering me with this wet cunt?” Those blue eyes sparkled with wicked sensuality. “Then end me right now, baby”. Suddenly he licked firmly into your dripping folds, groaning deeply as the first drop hit his tongue which had you squirming from the vibrations. “Goddamn… you taste so fine, kitten”. He lapped away, humming as you began to grind against his face. The tension from your two prior denials built with a vengeance and in your desire, you gripped his hair and pulled him closer. His nose brushed against your clit and you cried out which he answered with a pleased hum as he firmly suckled on your clit.

”Fuck!” Pleasure coursed from head to toe, your mind solely focused on prolonging the feeling as long as possible. Once the tremors had stopped, you laid for a moment to gather your thoughts. Glancing to the side you saw Ransom facing you, laying on his back with his hands behind his head and that goddamn smug-sonofabitch-smirk etched on his face, lips glistening from your juices. 

Suddenly filled with an urge to wipe the smirk off his face you moved to pull his jeans and boxers down, watching as his cock was freed. God, no wonder he walked around with that attitude. He was big, and for a moment you wondered how the hell it was meant to fit in you but you didn’t want to say it aloud and give him yet another ego boost. Scrambling to straddle him, you squirmed as his flesh rubbed between your folds. “Woah… slower, baby, I’m not going anywhere” Ransom chuckled which turned into a gasp when you squeezed him with your hands. Guiding his tip, you both moaned when it rubbed over your clit. Biting your lip you began to sink onto him. “Shit” he hissed, hands moving to grip your hips and control your descent. Moaning from the stretch you wriggled on him, unable to sit comfortably on his thighs. Cursing, he gently pushed you to lean back and you slid flush against him, the movement causing his cock to rub deeply within you. At your whimper, his eyes flashed to you. “You ok?”

Grinding against him, a small keen echoed through the room. “Feels so good… fuck… you’re so big”. 

Hearing your voice crack on the last word, Ransom began to roll his hips watching as you lost yourself to pleasure. Head tipped back, chest heaving and hands grasping for something. Ransom bucked up into you and then groaned when your hands dug into his flesh. ”Oh… my kitten has claws” he whispered, relishing the sight of the red marks. Feeling you clench around him Ransom continued to buck into you, his hands gripping your hips. ”Fuck yes… you want my cum kitten? Gonna cream this sweet little pussy”. You moaned loudly at his words, his hands guiding you through deep strokes as your walls sucked at his throbbing cock insistently. Your body began to tremble with that oh-so-familiar heat and you clenched tightly around Ransom, suddenly terrified he was going to edge you again. “Not gonna stop, baby” he murmured, gasping as your body shook with pleasure. “That’s it kitten, squeeze me. I’m gonna cum so hard for you”. Suddenly he tugged you down to him for a deep kiss, groaning against your lips as he came deep within you.

Panting, you rested against Ransom’s chest and heard the gentle lub-dub of his heart. His fingers brushed cautiously against your cheek, cupping your face when you pushed further into his touch. He tensed and you worried that he was going to revert to his pattern of lashing out. You couldn’t handle that, not after this. You cared about him, somehow falling for him along the way despite the antagonism between you. “Please”. He looked down at you, worry lining his face. “Please don’t pull away, Ransom”. 

Shaking his head, Ransom held you close. “I’m sorry baby, for being an asshole and making things difficult for you. Honestly, I just wanted you to notice me. But I’ve wanted more since you basically told me to grow some balls and make something of myself. You’re the first person apart from Grandfather to see something in me”. Ransom sighed heavily. “I’m a mess, kitten. Fuck, you’re more than familiar with the shit show that is my so-called family”. Your heart ached at the bitterness lacing his voice and moved your hand to rest on his chest. “I don’t know how to do this” he gestured between you before capturing your hand with his and pressing his lips to your palm. “But I want to try. For you. With you. I’m probably going to upset you and definitely annoy you… but I want to try and make you happy”.

“Like our research”. He cocked his head at your answer. “Research means that you don’t know, but are willing to find out”. At your soft giggle, his blue eyes sparkled. “Together. We’ll do it together”.

[ferret-milk]

Quick doodle of how I’m currently feeling at work rn

[takamoris]

Stealing this image from twitter and bringing it over here, because holy shit, some of the clowns I have been seeing talk about the game lately.

[dreamofbecoming]

thinking about a stoncy dynamic that’s not romantic or sexual or necessarily even platonic, but it used to be all or some of those things, and now it’s like they don’t know each other really at all anymore unless there’s danger, and then they immediately fall into perfect step with each other without even noticing

they don’t talk and they kinda avoid each other socially after they tried out every configuration of the three of them and none of them worked, but the minute a threat appears suddenly they’re flanking each other without having to discuss it. they fall into battle formation without even a glance. they always know where the other two are in a melee, they don’t have to check. it’s instinctive- stay equidistant, fan out, protect the party. one of them loses their weapon and one of the others throws them another, and they catch it and keep fighting. neither one looks, neither one breaks stride. they move around each other on reflex, like magnets.

just battle-hardened kids who are awkward as hell kids but also seasoned warriors who know each other down to their bones, but only in a fight.

something something the only place you fit in my life anymore is with your back pressed to mine and your weapon raised

[feliciadraws]

Hot take but instead of CGI, anime should go back to more retro style animation, like we should totally bring back bold, dynamic animation and imitation cel-shading and bold outlines and rich details and unique designs because that’s what the modern anime scene needs more of and I just know that retro style animation would look absolutely amazing with modern technology

[former-ly-darth]

Although I am enjoying Maul: Lockdown, it is so so so transparently written by a man

[tariah23]

He apparently has 2 kids with 2 different women and doesn't take care of either of them

Women, I will protect you-

[jenny-dreadful]

yk when someone confidently slides on their socks into a complex ongoing discourse to be like “um actually. [term] means [thing] 💅” all smug, and expect to be taken seriously, not realizing they completely lack a concept of a specific and contextually-applicable usage which everybody else here already understands. <<<<<<<<<

[nullians]

Father telling my grandmother to not apologize to me for making stupid assumptions is like. Wow. Just say you are not capable of saying sorry to your kids and go lol. If you’re going to undo all progress I’ve hammered into that woman’s old brain I’m going to maim you verbally for real real the next time we talk 🤷

[the-bluestreak-cat]

My extremely personal red flag is if you’ve never lived independently.

Do not open tags it’s just a personal vent and I hit the tag limit (30) and that’s never happened to me before ajskdlf

[raeathnos]

.

[itneverendshere]

BLESS HALLOWEEN - r.c (+18)

pairing: frat!rafe/ghostface!rafe x reader (uni au) warnings: no plot; smut

inspired by this audio (+18)

between midterms, a terrible class project partner, and your roommate constant need to fuck her boyfriend at any given hour of the day, you’re half asleep most days.

the only thing you should be doing is sleeping, anywhere, for hours, but instead, you let yourself get dragged to a halloween party. 

sure, you’re running on three hours of sleep and five cups of coffee, but heaven forbid you to miss a party because your roommate just had to be there. never mind that she’s been wearing her "not-so-pg sexy witch" costume since last tuesday, casting spells for her crush to notice her (like he doesn’t see half her skin every night anyway).

you look hotter than you'd like to admit. black mini dress? check. sky-high boots? check. a little lace mask that hides just enough to keep the mystery going? obviously.

you're not trying too hard, but you’re giving just enough to turn heads, with a vibe that says, “i might ruin your life, but you'll thank me for it."

you’re rocking some version of a "slutty masquerade," not that anyone could guess what that means, but it gets you a free drink within five minutes. and the best part? nobody knows it’s you.

the only downside is that you’re in his territory.

it could be anywhere, but it’s happening at his frat.

your project partner, personal headache and resident menace, rafe cameron holds court here like he’s king of the idiots.

he’s hot, you’ll give him that, guy’s all charm until it’s time to work; then he’s as useless as that cheap foundation your roommate keeps borrowing.

and now you’re here, half hoping to avoid his face entirely—his smirk that screams "’m getting credit off your hard work" and that irking attitude that makes him think he’s doing you a favor.

as if seeing him once a week in class isn’t enough of a problem. you pull your mask down a bit lower, not that he’d recognize you through the lace, but just in case.

against all odds, you’re having a good time. the drinks are good—something sugary—and you find yourself laughing, loosening up.

mid-laugh, you walk straight into someone, practically face-plant into a solid chest. you stagger back, the guy's hand catching your elbow to hold you, and you look up, only to be met with a ghostface mask.

“ohh, sorry,” he says with an amused chuckle like he's getting a kick out of startling you. "sorry, sorry—i  didn’t mean to scare you," he adds, not sounding remotely apologetic.

you raise a brow, your lips curving just slightly. “hmm, you sure? cause it kinda looks like you enjoy it."

he puts a hand up in mock innocence. “nah, i swear, completely unintentional,” 

you blink up at him, squinting against the red lighting to catch a better look at his mask. it’s honestly a little creepy up close, that ghostface grin somehow twisting a bit more under the lights and crowd. but you’re in the mood to get laid tonight.

"nice costume,” you don’t bother to hide the way your eyes stuck to every corner of his body, “scary.”

he doesn’t catch it though, leaning down, head tilting, “what?” he asks, chuckling a bit as he stands closer. “yeah, sorry—the music’s way too loud.”

rolling your eyes with a little attitude, you repeat yourself, a bit louder. “i said, your costume’s scary.”

he nods, shaking his head like he’s relieved, and rubs the back of his neck, as if this mask isn’t hiding the flush you think you see creeping up his neck. “oh, thanks. yeah, uh, you look…” his voice trails off a little, and he clears his throat, swallowing. “you look pretty, uh, scary too.”

you raise a brow, "you think so?"

he nods again, “yeah, ’m terrified of hot women, so…”

the music cuts him off this time around, his words getting lost in the heavy bass, it’s harder to know what he’s saying when you can’t read his lips. you frown, stepping closer into his space. “hmm?”

the guy practically jolts, “nothing, nothing—it’s, uh…” he stammers, then gestures at your face, his fingers brushing near your mask. “it’s a cool mask.”

you smile, amused. “thanks, ghostface. should i be, y’know, scared of you?”

 “i don’t know, that depends. should i be scared of you?”

"nop, you're cute. i like where this is going."

the guy’s mask tilts, there’s smidge of surprise in his voice. "really? so—so you’re into masks and, like, the whole psycho-killer thing?”

you shrug nonchalantly, letting your gaze drag over him slower. "only if they're hot and built like you."

there's a short pause, and you can practically feel the amused smile hidden under his mask. “oh, okay, yeah, yeah—so what is it? do you like being scared, or?”

there’s something about a guy like him—tall, broad-shouldered, who could probably break you in half without even trying. and honestly? you like that kind of shit. you’ve always wanted a guy who could cover you with his entire body, who’d tower over you in a way that was intimidating enough to make your heart pound. 

the kind that, if you begged nicely, might just be able to cut off your oxygen in bed with one hand. and here he is, looking like he could throw you around a little if you wanted him to. which you might. his hand still hovering near your waist isn’t exactly subtle either—it’s like he knows, somehow. either way, you keep your expression smooth, not giving him anything, it’s more fun that way.

you let out a giggle that’s only partly mocking. "maybe i just like danger, ghostface. or maybe i like watching people squirm."

“holy shit, that’s fucked up.”

you take a slow sip of your drink, watching his shirt cling to his chest as he takes a deep breath, every inch of that body sculpted to the fucking gods like it was made for nights like this. shit, that’s a nice body. 

you can’t help the sly smirk that pulls at your lips as you murmur, “what’s wrong with liking it rough?”

he snickers, almost breathlessly, and you know you’re getting to him. “there’s something a little wrong with you.”

yeah, there is. you almost blurt out the truth—that your panties are drenched and practically glued to your skin because of him, that he’s got you feeling hornier than you’ve felt in a long time. but you choose to let your fingers trail down his arm, slow and teasing. 

“you think so?” you faux-pout, giving him a look that’s all dark lashes and bad intentions.

he swallows, stumbling over his words. “y-yeah, i mean, there’s some things you need to… work on.”

you tilt your head, smiling in that way you know drives guys crazy, leaning in just enough to make him catch his breath. “would you like to help me?”

he stares at you, goosebumps rising along his arm where your fingers still rest, visibly caught off guard, “what does that mean?”

with a wicked grin, you reach up, wrapping your manicured hands around his neck, his breath all but halting as you pull him down until his face is level with yours. his breath hitches, and you take your time, letting your lips brush the shell of his ear, enough to make him shiver. 

“you find me upstairs,” you murmur, voice dripping with promise, “and ’m all yours. okay?”

instead of waiting for him to process it, you’re already sneaking off into the crowd, leaving him rooted. you don’t try looking back, already feeling his stare burning into you, dazed and desperate as he takes in what you just promised. you don’t second guess yourself once, you know he’s coming.

by the time he shakes himself out of his trance, you’re halfway up the stairs.

at the top, you stop, one quick peek over your shoulder to check if he’s still watching. the look on his face is priceless—like he’s not sure if he’s about to follow a dream or walk into his worst nightmare. perfect, you think.

you push open a random door and slip into an empty room, locking eyes with yourself in the mirror. hair a little wild, eyes glinting with that mischievous glint you know all too well. you adjust your mask, the lace sitting just right over your cheekbones. you pull your dress higher, letting it ride up just a little higher, admiring the way the fabric clings to you, showing off every curve.

you turn the lights off, letting the room fall into shadows. he’ll have to work for it if he wants to find you. you can imagine the way he’ll hesitate, hand hovering over the doorknob, wondering what the hell he’s getting himself into. 

why make it easy for him?

rafe watches you leave, standing there like a fucking idiot, heart hammering in his chest as he replays what just happened. the words “find me upstairs, and i’m all yours” looping in his mind like a mantra. the confidence in your voice, the way you looked at him like you already knew he’d be following—fuck, it’s enough to make him hard just thinking about it.

he swallows, trying to be calm as he looks around, but there’s no hiding the way his breathing’s quickened, how his body is buzzing at the thought of finding you, alone, in a dark room, just waiting for him.

you’re playing with him, he tells himself, but he doesn’t care. he’s going to go after you anyway.

pushing through the crowd, he’s half-dazed, talking to himself under his breath, almost wheezing out a series of what the fucks. his grip wraps around the banister as he ascends the stairs, his fingers still itching from where you’d brushed against him. he feels completely out of his element. girls flirt with him all the time, he’s with girls all the time, sure, but this—this is different. 

he always been a sucker for a good challenge and you’d practically left him in the dust, tossing back that promise without even checking if he’d follow.

at the top, he pauses, looking down the hallway, every door holding the possibility that you might be behind it, waiting. 

rafe feels that thrill coil in his stomach, his heart pounding in anticipation. he’s like a kid on halloween night, trick-or-treating at the house he’s always been too afraid to knock on. but you dared him, so there’s no way he’s backing out now.

he starts with the first door, pushing it open only to find it empty, checking the shadows, in case you’re hiding, but nothing. he goes into the next door, finding a couple already in there, and quickly shuts it again, eyes slamming shut, ignoring their annoyed stares as he backs out.

third time’s the charm, yeah? he thinks, reaching for the next door and pulling it open. the door creaks as it swings shut behind him, his footsteps are slow, hesitant, and the scuff of his shoes against the floor makes him cringe. 

it takes him a second for his eyes to adjust to the dark, pupils dilating as he walks further inside.his breathing is loud and uneven, almost like he’d run all the way here. he stops in the middle of the room, his chest rising and falling hard, his breath painfully audible. 

his heart is doing an annoying thing, pounding, and he swears he can hear it.

did he misread you? the space is eerily quiet, he can’t help but wonder if he’s been set up, if you’re somewhere downstairs, laughing at how eagerly he followed your trail up here like a fucking dumbass.

rafe scans the room’s edges, searching, and he notices a quick movement in the corner—something. he swallows he leans forward a little, squinting to make out any familiar shape.

“you wanna play hide and seek?” he calls out, hoping he’s not making a full out of himself, “is that it?” he’s taking gulps of air, feeling dizzy from being in the dark for so long, “you like this?”

a quiet giggle echoes from one of the corners, inviting, and he feels the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. you’re playing this game too well, lurking just beyond his reach, and the longer he waits, the more desperate he feels.

he swallows, his mind spiraling as he steps walks around, slow and cautious, hands slightly trembling. he’s caught off guard by just how badly he wants you; the way you kept looking at him like he was the prey downstairs, has him all kinds of worked up. 

his cock stirring against his jeans is proof enough. 

“you want me to scare you or somethin’?” he provokes you, praying it’s enough to lure you out, “you think it’s smart? letting a stranger chase you into a room, with no one else around. you’re all alone with me.”

“who says you’re that dangerous?”

the second the words leave your mouth, rafe’s resolve slips. 

it’s maddening, the way you’re hiding from him, how your voice seems to come to him from every dark corner of the room. he shouldn’t have drowned two shots before following you, but the liquid courage had been tempting. 

you’re keeping him on a tight leash, making him wonder if he’s got a shot or if you’re just messing with his head. he wants to see you again, your expression—wants to read you, even if the last time he tried, he ended up with his mind in knots.

“you don’t even know my name,” he muses, taking a couple steps closer to the closet, “does that make it more fun for you? that you don’t know anything about me?”

his movements are cautious, almost reverent as if you’re something sacred and forbidden all at once. he stops, opening the doors, leaning inside as he half-whispers, “not here, huh?” no answer, just silence, but he swears he can feel you watching him, your gaze prickling his skin, almost burning, “where are you? c’mon come out, i’ll go easy on you.”

he sighs, sounding like more of a frustrated exhale. no sign of you anywhere. he shakes his head, letting out a soft laugh, more amused than annoyed. 

“be a good girl and come out.”

rafe stalks around the room with the focus of someone hunting prey, his footsteps deliberate, his hands gliding along the walls and over furniture. he reaches the small bathroom door adjacent to the room, his fingers tightening around the handle. his lips pull into a smirk as he pauses—listening. 

the room’s quiet, but then, he hears it: the faint, uneven rhythm of your breathing, a quickened inhale, almost as if his words had finally affected you. he stops dead, dropping his hand from the door and turning around with a dark gleam in his eyes. 

“wait—wait,” his voice lowers with satisfaction, with the thrill of the chase. he lets out a breathy chuckle, his eyes roving the room as he zeroes in on where you’re hiding. “i can hear you, can hear you breathing.” 

he takes a slow, taunting step, his head tilting, as though he’s relishing the way you’re fighting to stay silent, to keep control. 

“what’s the matter? you sound a little…” he trails off in a murmur, enjoying the tables turning. “...shaken up. are you scared?”

your breath slips, just enough to betray you and his lips quirk up.

“i know exactly where you are.” with lazy confidence, he walks over to the far corner where the heavy velvet curtains seem to pool against the floor, drawn closed over the tall, narrow window. 

his fingers brush the fabric, his eyes narrowing as if he can feel the warmth of you just on the other side. then, in one smooth motion, he grabs the curtain and yanks it open. 

“caught you.”

moonlight spills in, illuminating you both. in a second, you’re pressed against the wall, lips parted, cheeks flushed, and his eyes rake over you, lingering on the way your costume accentuates every curve of your body. 

he steps in close, his silhouette blocking the light as he cages you in, one hand pressing against the wall beside your head, the other landing on your waist. his gaze drops to your lips, taking time to roam the way you’re biting your lip.

you tilt your chin up, “maybe i just like trouble.” 

rafe’s grip on your waist tightens in response, a hunger that he can’t hide, while he’s memorizing the way you’re looking up at him, ready to push him just as far as he can take it.

“you’re in trouble, alrigh’,” he shakes his head, while his hand inches down, slipping lower along your body until his thumb brushes against the curve of your hip, “don’t think you understand what you’re getting yourself into.”

your fingers slide up his chest, feeling the hard planes of muscle beneath the thin fabric of his black shirt, the way his heart hammers from your touch alone.

“maybe that’s what i want,” you whisper, tipping your head up so your lips brush against his mask.

he shudders, and you let your fingers trail slowly down, tracing over the line of his collarbone. rafe swallows hard, his body thrumming with tension. his eyes dropping to your mouth once again, wishing he’d been smart enough to take the mask off, so he could kiss you. 

“you don’t know what you’re asking for,” he breathes, but the glint in his eyes says otherwise. he’s already melting under your touch, the desperation in the way he holds onto you confessing just how badly he needs it.

“you want me?” you ask, watching his pupils dilate as you lean in even closer, close enough that he can smell the fruity trace of your drink on your breath trough the mask, the lingering sweetness making him light-headed.

 jesus fucking christ where have you been all his life?

“yeah,” he mutters, voice strained, eyes half-lidded as he stares down at you, “i want you.” his hand trails up your side, down the line of your dress, stopping just at the hem. he hesitates, holding himself back for your sake, the look in his eyes begging for permission, daring you to say something, to let him go further.

you smirk, letting your fingers slip lower, grazing over the top of his waistband, “’m already so wet for you.”

a rough, almost growling sound escapes his throat as his fingers taunt around you, his control slipping at the admission. “yeah?” he grunts, letting his hand glide under the hem of your dress, his fingers inching higher, grazing along the sensitive skin of your thigh, “lets find out.”

the first brush of his fingers against your thong sends a shiver from your head to your toes, his smirk growing. he’s bold now, unapologetic as he moves them up, grazing the thin barrier of fabric between his hand and you.

your panties are ruined, drenched, and stuck to you most uncomfortably, he can tell from the way you keep pushing your hips forward, begging him to do something. 

he doesn’t think twice before using two fingers to pull the sticky fabric to the side.

“fuck,” he mutters to himself, “all this for me?”

you have to bite your lip to stop a moan from slipping out when he finally touches you properly. two of his long, thick fingers press against your entrance, sliding into you with no resistance. the feeling of your cunt clamping around him makes his cock twitch. 

he works you open, even the slightest touches have you arching your back from the wall. the need in his eyes turns ravenous with every desperate little gasp you let out. he moves slowly, deliberately, feeling the warmth of you clenching around his him, as he curls his fingers just right, 

“you’re so wet, ah, yeah—you’re gonna scream for me?”

his thumb finds your clit with ease, and he presses down, drawing gentle circles that make your knees buckle. he grins, drinking in every sound you’re trying to bite back. his thumb stays steady over your clit, circling with the perfect rhythm, applying just enough pressure to keep you breathless.

“c’me here,” his other hand moves with swift, easy dominance, capturing your wrists and pinning them above your head, holding you firmly against the wall,” you like this shit?” 

“you’re gonna fuck me with the mask on?” you grind yourself harder against him, practically delusional from the way he’s making you feel, “kinky.”

he's mesmerized by the way your breasts jolt underneath your dress with each shaky breath you take, your skin feels feverish, heat radiating off it like a furnace.

“just like you wanted,” he promises, his voice filled with satisfaction as his thumb presses down harder, coaxing a soft whimper from your lips. “go on, let me hear it—ride my hand.”

he tightens his hold on your wrists, keeping you perfectly in place, not prying his eyes away from how your brows frow with every grind. 

“fuckkkkk, do that again,” you whine when he hits a particular spot, your walls tightening around him in a way that makes him want to stop the foreplay and fuck you right away.

rafe leans forward to coo praise into your ear, “like this?” your skin is sticky with sweat—some saliva too—his. he’s never been this fucking hard in his life. he slows down on purpose, to torture you, doing anything in his power to make you beg, “ooh look at you— a fuckin mess.” he taunts.

“don’t be an asshole,” you groan, fingers itching to be set free, and grab his shoulders so you can slam down on him harder, “you gotta make me cum if you wanna fuck me.”

he runs deep circles into your clit making you press your legs together, knowing that he's getting exactly what he wants makes him chuckle into your skin. by this point as he mindlessly humps against your writhing body, he’s peeking down, taking a moment to admire the mess of slickness between your thighs.

“you want more?” you’re so caught up in the feeling that you don’t notice his hand leaving yours, wrapping it around your neck, pulling you closer to him, “answer me”

“another finger,” you spit out when he tightens his grip on your neck, the added touch having you on the brink.

rafe doesn’t even look at you, too entranced by your mess to make eye contact. he never got so lost during sex, but your pussy’s making him intoxicated to the point where his senses are dull, and the part of him that’s fully aware is his dick. 

he’s not even inside you yet, and still, he can cum just from seeing you ride his fingers. “another?”

he groans at the way one of your hands move to flex over his, watching in amusement as you try to get him to add one more finger. he mutters a low, gruff “good girl” as he slides a third finger in, pressing just deep enough to make your legs tremble, since you asked so nicely.

“think you can handle more?” rafe prods, “you’re so tight, don’t think you can take me.”

the way his fingers work, methodical and relentless, leaves you barely able to breathe, let alone answer.

“i could take t-two of you,” you tease, letting a breath out, and turning your head to face him. god you wondered if he looked good under that mask, but if he was this good in bed, who fucking cared.

“the only thing you’re taking is this fucking costume off,” he grumbles against your shiny lips, fanning like a wild animal catching the scent of its prey. he’s already tugging at the material, pulling the straps to the side before you can, nudging it aside, “look at you. gotta get my hands on you.”

rafe moves his attention to your breast and squeezes firmly, the tips of his fingers clasping down on your nipple, pressing and pulling as he chases after those sweet sounds that leave your lips.

“look at these tits, fuck” he rasps, eyes trailing over your chest and savoring every inch, his breath almost a snarl, “this’ what you wanted?”

you pressed your lips to his neck, ignoring the deep rumble in his chest as you sucked marks into his flesh, nipping him less than gently. grunting at a particularly rough bite you landed just under his adam’s apple, “i wanted your cock not your finger—"

his pitches your nipple harder making you squirm, “watch your fuckin’ mouth.”

the way you’re creaming his hand should be illegal, but this man is clearly sent from above. someone finally listened to you and gave you exactly what you needed to survive your dry spell. 

you reach down to cup him up through his jeans, “or what?”

he moans, head dropping to your shoulder, “fuck,” he mutters, his tone conveying that he’s just as distracted, watching how your puffy folds glisten with your arousal.

“hmmm, can’t hear you ghostface.”

rafe’s too entranced to put you in your place, you’ve got him eating out the palm of your hand. the sounds of your pussy sucking in his fingers are obscene, the simple act of your hand grazing cock has his knees buckling.

he can feel his heart beating miles a minute and he swears he could die right there, his hand coming down to grip the swell of your ass, kneading it firmly. you sigh contently with every slow drag of his hand, your head falling on his shoulder, nipping at his neck no doubt marking him up again.

“open your mouth.” you lift your head immediately, no smartass bullshit coming out of your lips, he chuckles breathlessly at your impatience, fingers moving from your ass to your parted hole, “suck my fingers, go on.”

it’s hard to make any coherent thought when his fingers are still inside you, dragging against your spongy walls deliciously, but your tongue automatically slips around his digits, doing your best to suck them down your throat. you’d never felt so willing to let a man bend you however he wants to, hushed curses escaping your occupied mouth, raking your nails down his arm. 

“good girl, yeahhhh, that’s it,” he grunts when you prod his skin harder, “you like diggin’ your nails into me, like it rough, huh? ‘course you do,” he stammers out when you clamp harder around him, your slick making everything slippery, “course you fucking do.”

with his fingers buried deep inside you and your lips wrapped around his other hand, rafe’s fully intoxicated, drunker than he can ever get. the sounds you make, he never wanted to taste something so bad, if it wasn’t for his stupid mask—

“take this thing off—" he grinds his hips into you, the rough fabric of his jeans pressing deliciously against your bare skin, teasing you, while his hand leaves your mouth to do nothing else but rip your panties apart.

you let out a huff, glancing down at what’s left of your underwear as he tosses it aside like nothing, already sliding his back up your thigh, “you’re paying for those.”

“whatever you want.”

you’re already occupied with his stupid belt, fingers quickly working to take the damn thing off, pawing at him to help. it’s only then he leaves your pussy unattended, settling his hold on your hips while you fumble with his jeans, unbuttoning them and snapping them open, his bulge straining against the fabric of his boxers. 

he grabs the underside of your thigh, picking your leg up and wrapping it around his waist, backing you two further into the wall, eyes gazing into yours, even though you can’t see him. why the fuck do your eyes look so familiar?

the tip of his dick kisses the skin of your pussy, the firm head bumping against your clit as he rubs himself against you, “happy?”

looking down, you watch his cock slide back and forth between your thighs, the friction making heat slowly rise in your core, warmth swarming in your chest. he’s so fucking big. you watch him, eyes half-lidded, your legs aching from the position, almost drooling from the sight alone. 

you don’t know how much longer you can let him tease you.

“so happy,” you nod, not tearing your attention from him.

“yeah?” he cocks his head to the side, brows furrowed, concentrating not to cum on the spot with the way you’re eating his cock alive just with your pretty little eyes, “you’re gonna let a stranger fuck you?”

rafe reaches down, teasingly rubbing the tip of his dick over your folds, tracing it over your clit a few times. you look up, lips curling into the most earth-shattering smirk.“i can always find someone el—"

you both groan when he slides into you with no warning, your warm walls enveloping him perfectly, sucking him in like a vice, a perfect tight fit. he pumps you so full, not waiting for any adjustment, your walls fluttering around his girth, thick tip slightly curved up from your position.

“fuck, fuck, fuckkk,” he drawls out, rolling his hips in tight circles, slowly fucking into you, dragging himself along your walls to learn what you like, “this pussy, oh—so good.”

your head falls back against the wall, sighing in pleasure. you want him to let go and beat your walls loose, especially when he looks so good doing it. you melt into him, body sagging, downright losing it with how easily he holds you up and still pounds relentlessly into you, your breathing picking up with his change of pace. 

he’s so strong.

“this good enough for ya?” he murmurs against your ear, picking on the way your body shudders, a scream for anyone outside that door to hear, “hmm? you like my voice, right here?”

“you’re gonna make me cum,” you feel yourself grip him harder, his thick cock stretching you open, dragging out moan after moan from your lips, “oh my god.”

it’s the sweetest torture, the way his pelvis smacks against your tummy with every thrust, barely even pulling out to roll back into you.

“such a fuckin’ slut, aren’t you?” he growls, “letting a stranger fuck you open—holy shit, holy shit,” he hisses, almost as if he’s in pain, when you teasingly whine your hips back into him, fluttering at the low sound he breaths right by your ear.  “shit, you’re squeezing—fuck.”

“you’re so b-big,” you wheeze at a rough thrust, hand coming down to press against his lower stomach.

“yeah? good enough for you, huh?” his hips increase in rhythm, rocking into you, his thrusts precise, beating against your g-spot with vigor, “takin’ it so good baby.”

by now you’re seeing stars in your vision from the white-hot pleasure shooting up your spine, smart mouth forgotten, “harder.”

“harder?” he’s fucking into you at such a pace you feel like he’s gonna split you in half, “don’t think you can take it.”

“please.”

it sounds too pretty coming out of your mouth. having a girl like you beg feeds his ego like nothing else. 

he buries himself so deep, his pelvis is pressed hard against the hilt of your mound, fingers coming down to pinch and roll your neglected clit between his fingers.

“fucking take it then.” rafe snaps his hips with every word, glaring into your teary eyes. 

you gasp, nodding your head frantically, too fucked out to even use your words properly when he bottoms out properly, leaving you entirely only to slam inside harder than before. you squeal, not expecting him to use his entire body strength to almost fold in half while you’re still standing.

“no one can h-hear you down here, go ahead,” your mouth runs dry as you feel his body helplessly pressing into yours, “lemme hear those pretty noises, c’mon, scream f’me.”

you’ve never moaned so loud in your life, hands coming up to tweak your nipples, him filling you to the brim, “w-where the fuck have you b-been?”

he chuckles, though it comes out strained, “right here,” he makes a point by ramming into your g-spot perfectly, “hold your leg up f’me.”

for once in your life, you do as you’re told while focusing on his clothed stomach, feeling it constrict with every deep breath he takes. 

“you look so pretty like this,” you hear him praise you, one of his hands sliding down the span of your back, coming down to wrap around your hair and forcing your head up, “could fuck you for hours.”

the tip of his dick is kissing right against your cérvix, “not stopping you.”

“yeah? that’s how good is it?” he laughs, “can’t believe stranger cock does it for you.”

you open your mouth to speak, probably to give him shit about how he wouldn’t stop teasing you, but your words run dry as you feel the familiar sensation of his fingers playing with your overstimulated clit. motherfucker.

your body tenses as he builds up the pressure, and a strangled symphony of your wails leaves your sore throat. it’s too much and not enough at the same time, the pressure of his cock as well as his fingers, he’s quite literally fucking you dumb. 

“nothin’ to say now, huh?”

the better it feels, the farther gone you’re in your mind, “s-shut the fuck up.”

if you were with someone else, it would bother you that your tits are quite literally out while he’s still dressed, besides the jeans pooling by his ankles, but that stupid black wife beater looks mouthwatering on him. 

somehow the outfit and the mask add to the allure, not knowing who’s behind it, but still letting him treat you like a rag doll. you’re bouncing down onto him, almost sniffling as your pussy’s still twitching and soaking, so close to your well-deserved orgasm.

“cum inside,” your head’s starting to sting from how bad you need to cum,“please.”

rafe swears he almost falls on his ass, “what?”

“inside,” you grit out, eyes closed in bliss, “want to feel you cum inside.”

he lets out a groan at the way you say it, “are you serious? oh fuck, what a little cock-slut.” he can’t help but let out a chuckle at your fucked-out state, lost in the chase of your own pleasure to care about how pitiful you look right now, “you’re gonna cum around me? go on,” he coos, kneading at the flesh of your thighs.

you nod, slipping out a high-pitched ‘mhm’, knowing this shit is about to hit you like a train. you arch yourself into him, whimpering lewdly and cutting small moon crescents into his shoulders with your long nails.

rafe feels like he’s lost all ability to fuck anyone else but you, growling at the filthy thoughts swimming through his mind, the urge to fill you up with his cum getting stronger as he enjoys watching you. 

a strained whimper escapes you as you lean forward to bury your head in his shoulder, groaning against the skin, “don’t stop.”

“n-never stopping, c’mon,” you swear you see stars while he’s slipping out curses and praises that you’re not even sure make sense. “holy shit, yeahh, fuck.”

he applies a little more pressure to your clit and that’s all it takes for you to be gone, your chest touching his, blinding flashes of paradise filling your vision as you leave reality, having it ripped away from you. 

your mouth is parted in the most beautiful oh shape he’s ever witnessed. tears are streaking down your eyes and he can’t help but be turned on by them.

“oh! fuck, fucking—” you squeeze your eyes shut, having no idea how you pulled the words out between continuous sobs that escape from you.

rafe feels like a fucking creep, he can’t take his eyes off you for the life of him, hips snapping animalistically into your pussy while he grunts, groans, and cries as he talks you through it, “that’sss itt, so good, so fuckin’ perfect.”

he tilts your chin up, forcing you to look at him, thumb brushing over your bottom lip. 

he’s chasing his orgasm while he watches yours; he all but whines when he releases inside of you, not slowing down in the slightest as he makes sure you take every drop. his hand comes down on your stomach forcing you back down with his python grip, feeling his bulge right there makes his eyes roll as his hand tightens on your waist. you’re still clenching and spasming as you milk him dry, “fuckin’ take it.”

his hips don’t let up, grinding into your core despite him already finishing inside of you. for another ten minutes.

five minutes later, you’re both a little hazy from the endorphin rush, still processing. once he pulls away, rafe feels a lazy grin stretching across his face, feeling more satisfied than ever. unlike the past hour, the room isn’t filled with your moans, but complete silence as you both try to breathe like normal people again, collecting yourselves, adjusting clothes, and then there’s an unspoken agreement that maybe, it’s time to see who’s behind the masks.

you fumble with the edges of the fabric, hesitating for a moment before finally pulling them off, unveiling each other’s faces.

you freeze, staring at him in disbelief.

“you gotta be fucking kiddin’ me,” you nearly burn a hole through his head, eyes narrowing with pure annoyance as you process this disaster, voice dripping with irritation, “what the fuck? rafe?”

he’s completely still, staring at you with his mouth wide open, eyes wide like he’s just seen a ghost—everything you’re hurling at him is going in and out his ears. the realization that he just spent the last hour fucking you is making him dumber. the girl he’d been thinking about, dreaming about, wanting more than he’d ever admit, even to himself.

the anger in your eyes, the annoyed way you’re crossing your arms and glaring at him—it’s so perfectly you. he’s watched you in class a hundred times, always stealing glances when you weren’t looking or cursing his ass off, catching little glimpses of her attitude that only made him want you more. 

but he’d never thought he’d get a moment like this. 

bless halloween.

“are you even listening to me?” you snap, catching his starstruck expression, waving a hand in front of his face. “hello? earth to cameron? stop looking at me like a puppy, this was a mistake.”

more than a mistake. you can’t believe you just fucked the reason why you didn’t want to come to the party in the very first place. 

and the worst part is that you’d do it again.

“i…i just…wow,” he breathes, “it’s really you.” he lets out an incredulous laugh, rubbing a hand over his jaw “can’t believe it.”

you groan, rolling your eyes and shaking your head in exasperation. “are you serious right now?

“can i eat you out?”

you blink, realizing you’ve been staring, “what?”

he takes a step closer, filling the small space between you. you swear the sound of his next words drag a whimper from your throat, “can i eat you out?”

you nearly choke to death as his hand ghost near your waist, the barest brush of contact, sending sparks dancing across your skin, “right now?”

rafe leans down to your size, eager to get on his knees and taste you.

“why not?”

well, fucking damnit.

dont go fucking strangers with ghostface masks at random parties