#seems a bit early for halloween but i guess they want to be Ready

[plushieanimals]

Ghastly Ghost by douglas 🤍

[seramilla]

Verosika struggles with saying “I love you”— after all the first person she said it to, left her after hearing. But Odette doesn’t pressure nor does she rush verosika to say it, she allows for it to be natural and for it actually mean something and for that— Verosika is eternally grateful.

Odette doesn't say a word when Verosika's annual "Halloween" party comes around. She can't say that she gets it -- she also has her own share of bad experiences with exes, but never any that made her want to rip out their aorta and stomp it into the dirt, like Verosika seems wont to do with Blitzo.

But Verosika had explained pretty early in their relationship that it's not about Blitzo anymore -- yeah, she'd been a devastated young demon in love when he'd left her in the lurch, but Verosika has moved on since then. These days, the parties are about helping all those other victims who've been abandoned by that two-timing, selfish prick. The Goetia prince Stolas, most recent of all.

Maybe it's because of Blitzo, or maybe because Odette also just doesn't want to rush things, but the first time an "I love you" is dropped is after the latest party. Verosika comes home a lot less...wound up than Odette had expected. Tired and exhausted, yes, but her partner seems almost...relieved? Less stressed than that morning? Whatever happened, Verosika doesn't come crawling into bed needing reassuring cuddles like Odette had expected her to. Instead, she just changes into her PJs and climbs in next to Odette like it's any other evening, moving softly so she doesn't wake up her partner.

It's useless, though, because Odette had already been lying there awake, waiting up for her, unable to sleep. When Verosika sees Odette's eyes glowing back at her in the dark from under a bundle of blankets, she smiles.

"Hey, babydoll."

"Hey...how was your party?"

"Good!" Verosika is oddly...chipper for it being 3 in the morning and having run on adrenaline and Beelzejuice all day. She seems unusually sober, too.

"Are you...okay?" Odette asks, wincing a little bit when Verosika's ice-cold legs and tail come into contact with her body, and she snuggles up under Odette's chin. Verosika's definitely been in the human realm, all right. It's always so fucking freezing there.

"Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Because...it's Blitzo."

Verosika's smile does falter a little, at hearing his name. But surprisingly, amazingly, it doesn't seem to be affecting her the way Odette had thought it would. She doesn't grumble or yell or do any of the stuff she was doing this afternoon, while getting ready. What exactly had happened that night? Had something happened, or is she just overthinking this?

"Yeah, well..." Verosika starts, "I tapped out early. Tex wrapped everything up for me."

"What? Really?" Odette is surprised. She'd expected the party to be an all-night affair. She supposes it is rather odd that Verosika is back before dawn. "Did something happen?"

"Yeah," Verosika answers, just letting that response linger in the air for a while. She doesn't bother to elaborate. Odette's not sure if she should ask for details. "You know, babydoll, I might see if some of the others wanna run the shin-dig next year. I just wasn't...feelin' it tonight."

Now, that's extremely unlike Verosika. She has always been Blitzo's #1 Hater and plans these parties months in advance. She has the T-shirts, bumper stickers, and stacks of planners to prove it. What gives???

"Okay, wait, now I know something's up. There is absolutely no way you'd be saying this if something major didn't happen. Spill it! Are you okay? Did Blitzo...die or something? Why are you taking this so well?"

Verosika sits up to be able to look down at Odette in the dark. A pair of concerned, red eyes meet gold and pink, and Verosika sighs contently. She reaches a hand up to rub Odette's cheek, then runs it through her hair and scratches Odette's scalp lightly with her claws, the way she likes.

"He apologized. Finally. And I guess I just realized it doesn't...bother me anymore, now that I have you. I'm not over what he did to me, but I'm over him. I still put up the act, to get everyone in the mood, but to be honest, my heart just wasn't in it. And maybe that's the goal of the parties. To get to a place where I didn't need 'em anymore. The whole time, I just wanted it to be over, so I could be back here with you...where my heart truly is."

Odette looks up at Verosika, her red eyes shiny and wide like glistening saucers. She grips the blanket tightly to her chest, squeezing it between her claws. Is Verosika really saying...?

"...Because I love you."

There it is.

Odette's not going to cry...she's not going to cry...Odette Carmine doesn't cry!

"I love you, too, sweetie!" Odette says, a little too excited. She sits up to give Verosika an affectionate peck on the cheek. Then the peck turns into a passionate kiss, and okay, maybe a few tears leak out around her eyes, and the kiss turns a little heavy. "All night I just wanted you to be here! I missed you so much!"

Verosika does get a little emotional, then, too. She falls sideways into Odette's laps, throwing up her arms exaggeratedly and grabbing Odette's face between her claws for emphasis.

"I was so miserable, babydoll!!! As soon as the concert was over, I just hung out on the balcony. Then Blitzo and his whiny ass tried to ruin my party. But he was such a sorry sack of shit over Stolas dumping him, I almost...felt sorry for him! Me?! Verosika Mayday, sorry for Blitzo Buckzo?! I must really be losing it!"

"Nah," Odette smiles, leaning down to give Verosika another kiss on her forehead. Her girlfriend's skin is salty from sweat and booze, but she almost doesn't care. They are having a moment. "You're not losing it. That just means you're finally growing up to be a big girl who doesn't give a shit about no man!"

Verosika looks up at her girlfriend, grinning slyly. She pulls Odette down closer to her face by her nightshirt collar, her voice laced with a hint of spice. "Watch it. Don't think I'll take that from you just because you're hot."

Odette laughs and blushes. "Noted."

They settle back into bed again, side by side, Verosika's head tucked up snuggly under Odette's chin. Before the two of them fall asleep, Odette vaguely hears Verosika mumble something else about Blitzo, and manages to pick up the last thing she says before nodding off.

"Maybe I should consider passing the torch. That fucker Dennis looked like he really needed a leg up tonight... Maybe more than a leg... Sorry little fucker."

[illfoandillfie]

hey! tysm for the student smut blurb thing I requested a few months ago (I’m the one obsessed with curtains lol), it was amazing!

so I was thinking that roger would have been the type to buy the hitachi magic wand (like I can just picture him hearing about it, especially with going to Japan so much, and buying it to try out with his girlfriend) so could you maybe pretty please write something like that? like he hears about it on a trip to Japan and brings it home to try with reader (and maybe orgasm torture her a bit lol)? maybe it’s a Halloween or Christmas gift if you want to make it holiday-themed (or could just be a random gift, I don’t mind).

no worries if not ofc!

Blurb Advent 2023: Day 17

Oooo this is a fun one! Thanks for the request!

Warnings: sex toys - hitachi, little bit of overstim, kinda christmas related, mostly dom!rog but also a little bit switchy.

“You busy love?” Roger called out as he neared the living room.  You looked at the plate of crackers and cheese you’d just settled down with, intending to enjoy a trashy magazine with your afternoon snack, “Uhh, no, what is it?”   He was grinning as he walked towards the couch, before thrusting a present towards you, “Merry Christmas.”  “Oh!” More than a little surprised, you took the long rectangular git from him. The wrapping was a little messy and you could see a small area he’d patched up with a square of excess paper, though he'd tried to cover some of it with a bow.   “I know it’s a bit early,” he added, but I want you to have it now.  “Why? It’s not alive is it?”  “It’s not alive,” Roger laughed, “Just something I picked up for you while I was in Japan.”  You hummed as you gave the box a light shake, listening for any noise that might give away what it was. “But you’ve already given me a Japanese souvenir. I love my little lucky cat.”  “I know, but this is something else. Just open it love.”  “You’re very keen for me to open this box.”  “Well I thought you’d probably want to use it once you saw it.”  “And I couldn’t use it on Christmas Day?”  “Not until after our guests leave.”  You gave it another rattle, “Okay so not alive. Something I’ll want to use but not around others?”  “This would go quicker if you just ripped off the wrapping.”  “Is it that I can’t use it in front of others or I wouldn’t want to?”  “Well you can use it round me whenever you want but I imagine if you pulled it out on Christmas our families would be quite uncomfortable.”  “Oh so it’s dirty then.”  Roger answered with a cheeky grin.  That got you more excited and ready to move on from your teasing guessing game. Eagerly you tugged at the ribbon and then wrapping paper, making no effort to be neat. Fingers twitching with excitement, you worked the lid of the box off and.....didn’t know what you were looking at.   “It’s a massage wand,” Roger said, seeing your confusion, “like a vibrator thing.”  “I already have a vibrator.”  “Yeah but this one’s more powerful. It’ll get you off really really well.”  “Oh, okay.” you tried to sound enthusiastic when you were mostly just confused. The vibrators you were accustomed to were small, perfect for targeting a specific point, even of being worked into you. This thing seemed too large to be able to properly stimulate, not to mention big enough that it might as well have been a flashing neon sign outside your house that said WANKING.  “I thought you’d be more excited,” Roger said, his own enthusiasm faded.  “Sorry honey,” you cooed, swooping in to give him a small kiss, “I’m sure I’ll love it when I try it out. I just don’t quite see why I’d need another vibrator when I already have a good one.” You reached into the box to pull it out and found the power cord, “One I don’t need to plug into a wall to use.”  “That’s just cause you haven’t seen it on, you haven’t felt it yet.”  “And you have?” Your eyebrow was raised again.  “Just in the shop. And they were advertising it as a way to massage sore back muscles and stuff so it wasn’t like bad or anything. But I got to turn it on and get a sense of it. My hand was tingling after, it’s more powerful than you’d believe. Plus it really helped my back.”  You giggled at the thought of Roger being shown the gadget in a brightly lit store. It was somehow funnier than if he had found it in a seedy Japanese sex store.  “I thought it might be good for when I’m on tour and stuff but also that we could use it together. It’d be pretty hot making you cum like that.”  The idea did sound kind of fun and you hummed at the thought, “Okay yeah that does sound hot. Let’s try it out.”   “Now?”  “Yeah, now,”  Roger grinned again, “Just wait and see, you’ll lose your mind over it.” 

Roger ushered your quickly to the bedroom, pulling you into a kiss once you arrived. You giggled again at the effort he was going to to turn you on, his hands squeezing your butt, his lips moving to your neck as he worked on undressing you. You were very glad you had such a horny, attentive partner. Especially once he really started getting you worked up, gently tugging your hair and teasing your nipples as he removed your bra. He removed far less of his own clothing, much more interested in stripping you down to just your knickers. Even then, when he’d told you to hop on the bed, he made no move to shuck his jeans or tee. Instead he stepped around the side of the bed and bent down to plug your present into the wall.   You watched in anticipation. Even if you didn’t really believe this new toy would be much different to your old, it was still fun to share the experience with Roger.   He touched the head of the vibrator to your thigh, and you giggled as the light touch tickled. It was softer than you’d expected.   You stopped giggling when he turned it on, “Jesus.”   He’d drawn it away as he turned it on for the first time and you heard how loud it was. You’d not expected silence, that just didn’t exist in a vibrator, but you couldn’t help the idea of the neon sign popping back into your mind.   “It’s only loud because it’s good,” Roger reassured, “Just wait.”  You swore when he brushed the round head against your thigh again, not for long but for long enough for the feeling to linger.  Roger chuckled, “I told you it was powerful.” He moved it slightly higher up your thigh and you jolted at the feel of it on your more sensitive skin.  

He went slowly, inching it up your thigh, onto your hip, letting you adjust to the sensation of it before he stroked it over the crotch of your underwear. That alone was enough to have your breath catching in your throat. You’d played with sex toys before, you’d used a few different types of vibrators over the year, but this was different. You’d never felt anything like it. Its large size seemed suddenly to not only make sense (how else would such a motor fit inside) but to be a blessing in disguise. Anything smaller and the thing would have vibrated right out of Roger’s hand, if it didn’t destroy every nerve in your clit first.    Roger rubbed it along your knickers a few times, smirking at the growing wet patch it was creating.   “See love, it’s really working for you isn’t it? Already so wet. Should we see if it can make you cum just as easily?”  You whimpered a little as he wiggled your underwear down with one hand, the other maintaining a firm hold on the handle of the wand.   The vibrations were even more intense without the flimsy barrier of your panties. Once again, he only gave you a small taste before he moved the toy away, letting you get your bearings. But that little touch wasn’t enough and you quickly let Roger know you needed more.   He’d grinned and you just knew you’d be listening to him gloat for a week. Thankfully though he’d kept mum in the moment, making sure you were really ready before he brough the head of the wand to your clit.   After a matter of seconds you moaned. None of your other toys came close to feeling the same. The vibrations from the wand seemed to resonate outwards from where Roger was grinding it against your clit, the larger surface area from its tip and its double strength pulse making the pleasure radiate out through your cunt. Roger barely moved it but the occasional roll was all you needed for an unexpectedly quick orgasm to overtake you.  

“Holy shit Rog,” was the first thing you managed to say.  “And that was just on the lowest setting?”  “It has higher settings?!” You didn’t know whether to be amazed or horrified at the thought of even faster or more potent.   Roger laughed, “Yeah, 2 other speeds and then a few different patterns.” He clicked the button a few times and you heard its speed adjust slightly each time, until he stopped it on pattern that seemed to alternate between a short burst of vibrations and a sustained but softer buzz.   You squirmed where you lay, “Let me feel?”  Roger obliged, holding it back to your clit. Your orgasm built a little slower this time, the pattern keeping you from speeding towards release as quickly as before. But it still didn’t take as long as you knew it could for you to reach the edge, your orgasm hitting you hard and making you whimper as the continued vibrations overstimulated you.   “I knew it’d be good but fuck I could really torture you with this.” Roger pulled the toy away again and stopped the buzzing.  You could only groan at the thought, remarkably horny considering your two quick orgasms.  Roger laughed, “See, I knew you’d like it.”  Still laying back you nodded, blindly reaching out to pat his thigh but instead your hand found his stiff cock trapped in his jeans. A teasing, maybe I’ll just replace you, died on your lips as you realised how hard he was. Instead you said, “Do you wanna try it?”  “Try what, love?”  “Try the wand thing, whatever you call it. See how it feels with a cock.”  “Huh,” he considered your idea as you pushed yourself to sit up, “I’d thought about using it on you while I was fucking you but I hadn’t even thought of trying it on myself. Now that you’ve said it though I’m very keen.”  Laughing you took the toy from his loosened grip, giving the buttons some experimental presses, “Alright, pants off and lie down.”  Roger swallowed hard but did as you said. 

[elis-blawg222]

November 14 - Thursday

aghhh... yikes thursday.

I was supposed to be fasting this day, but I had to break my fast early which I was so so sad about I literally almost cried in my kitchen in front of my moms I swear.

So. I got ready Thursday but was super late (when am i not) so I didn't go to my first class (ltrly haven't been in like 2 weeks I need to go help) and thennnn I was almost late to my second class... wait nvm I was actually by a few minutes I think but in the end it was fineee. I didn't really like my outfit this day because I felt like it looked weird..? idk but everyone else seemed to like it since I got a few compliments on it which was nice :)

When i got home on this afternoon I made some cookies I'd been wanting to for a few days. They were Dolly Parton chocolate chip cookies. My step mom started cooking while I put the first batch in the oven and omggg. I was so so anxious. I was hoping the whole time that she would take long enough for me to be like oh haha actually I don't have enough time to eat, I have to go to practice woops. But unfortunately that's not how things worked out because dinner got done like 45 mins before I had to leave. sobs aggressively.

My mom literally said, "Eli. Come sit down and eat dinner" sighhh...

So I went to eat. I didn't take a pic um obvi.. bc I was in front of my moms.. LOL. I had a porkchop and like 4-6 brussel sprouts? and then a bit of mashed potatoes. Everything I had was totally freaking me out because I know my step mom loves to put fucking BUTTER AND OIL ON EVERY FUCKING THING. Like. that woman could put some oil in fucking water and be like "try it its so yumy and healthy and good for you" im gonna start tweaking out actually just thinking about it.

So anyways I even asked her, I ws like. "what's on the brussel sprouts?" and she said "olive oil and parmesean" that actually killed a little part in me I think like butter AND cheese shes trying to make me fucking obese. now. i LOVE cheese like i have a CHEESE OBSESSION. ITS BAD. however i do NOT love cheese calories and they very clearly do not love me either. So I was rlly nervous. But I ate basicallyyyyy all of it sobbbsbshgiuerhfjerohhiorioera.

Then. of course. I just. had. to try. my. fucking. cookies. oh. my. god. why. why. WHY. WHY WHYW YWYWHYWHEGH

I literally couldve been fine. Maybe not fine but redeemable if I stopped at dinner. But those fucking cookies. After that warm delicious stupid fattening fuckass cookie hit my taste buds it was over. thoroughly cooked. I ate like 2 maybe 3 before I left for practice

(but wait, there's more)

The WHOLEEEE time at practice I was thinking about these cookies. The inside of my head looked genuinely like a war zone like I was fighting demons because I was like no you fatty you don't need any more fucking cookies but then the other side was like just one more plssss i need it

anyways yeah can we guess which side won.

sigh im gonna be fat forever. BUT WAIT THERES FUCJING MORE (BANGS MY HEAD INTO MY KEYBOARD)

IM WORKING ON THIS THING GUYS ITS CALLED HONESTY AND SO IM SAYING ABSOLUTELY EVERYTHING I ATE OMG HELP IM SORRY IM SO FAT

I ALSO HAD. ALONG WITH THE COOKIES. AN ICE CREAM CONE. LMFAO ANDDD IDK I CANT EVEN REMEMBER BUT I THINK SOME OTHER CANDY AS WELL LIKE SMALL HALLOWEEN CANDIES. HA. HAHA. HA. OK. THAT WAS MY THURSDAY HOO FUCKING RAH IM ENDING IT PFFF

Total Cals: one billion

Total Steps: 4K???? BYE

[ladylynse]

Happy Halloween! 👻

For continuing a three sentence fic - I’d love it if you wrote more of the second idea for “file cabinet” or the thermos/drowning fic

Links:

https://ladylynse.tumblr.com/post/728500835869474816/i-went-on-a-trip-down-memory-lane-and-visited

https://ladylynse.tumblr.com/post/185211125716/hi-there-im-feeling-a-little-evil-today-so-how

Happy Halloween, Anon! I think the file cabinet was the more popular prompt with people, so I went with that one even though the temptation to torture Danny further was very much there. The original three sentence fic is copied here, and the rest is under the cut.

-|-

Logically, Vlad knew Daniel couldn’t escape his current predicament without help, and the vultures—incompetent though they could be at times—were capable of handling the simple task of alerting Vlad to the inevitable arrival of Daniel’s little friends.

That didn’t stop Vlad from giving into the urge to pull open the middle drawer of his filing cabinet to make sure the little badger hadn’t woken up and escaped since Vlad had stuffed him in there upon Valerie’s unexpected arrival, though.

Vlad had gotten Valerie out of his hair sooner rather than later, and his newest invention had done the trick in taking care of Daniel since he was still unconscious, but Vlad couldn’t help but feel that the other shoe had yet to drop; he’d won this time, but he still half expected something to explode in his face whenever he opened the drawer to check that Daniel was still there, and he doubted he’d feel otherwise until Daniel woke up and was finally forced to come to the realization that he didn’t have the upper hand.

-|-

In hindsight, Vlad supposed he should not be surprised that the other shoe had waited to drop until the little badger had woken up.

Oh, Daniel still didn’t have access to his ghost powers—Vlad had made quite sure of that—but it seemed that he was far from powerless.

Evidently, lock picking and untying knots had been added to Daniel’s repertoire, and Vlad would have to ghost-proof some cable ties in the near future. Daniel’s escaping the pilfered Fenton Fisher line was less of a surprise than his escaping the purloined Fenton Cuffs (Vlad had wanted to account for the possibility of another ghost helping him as best he could), since Vlad had no idea what he’d managed to use as a lockpick. Sam’s influence, no doubt. Her parents weren’t as high class as they liked to pretend, but Vlad had met them enough times even before moving to Amity Park to be quite sure she’d taught herself how to pick locks in early childhood.

Not that any of the particulars mattered when Daniel, freed of his bindings and his gag and now the filing cabinet drawer, was hurling priceless Packers memorabilia in Vlad’s direction and cursing up a storm while doing so.

“Language,” Vlad scolded lightly. He was intangible and floating just slightly off the ground, and he had a duplicate ready to ambush Daniel before he could grab something else Vlad didn’t want to be destroyed, but it was hard to keep up the pretence of indifference when he could hear something break as it hit the wall behind him.

Sadly, that was the reason Vlad was down to one duplicate.

Daniel scowled. “Says the guy who thinks butter biscuits is a satisfying swear. Seriously, get a better writer. Maybe you can hire the Ghost Writer because your original stuff sucks.”

“That’s not—!” Vlad bit off his protest. Daniel was trying to rile him, but at least when he’d started talking, he’d stopped throwing. Vlad let the duplicate lapse; he didn’t need the headache of splitting his concentration, and Daniel seemed bound and determined to give him a headache. “I’ll be frank with you, shall I?”

“I mean, I guess calling you Frank is a step up from what you usually want me to call you, but….”

Vlad heroically resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Let me be crystal clear. Whether you like it or not, you fell for my trap, and your little friends are going to be more than preoccupied with dealing with my employees. You may have escaped from a drawer, but you have not escaped this room, and you will not escape me. You do not have as many options as you seem to think you do.”

Daniel tilted his head. “You sure about that? Because I think you have it backwards. You fell for my trap, my friends are keeping your employees busy, and now you don’t have as many options as you think you do.”

Vlad shot him a withering look. “Bluffing will get you nowhere.”

“Who says I’m bluffing? Even if you don’t think we saw your setup coming a mile away after all those hints Skulker’s been dropping, Sam and Tucker aren’t my only friends.”

“The ghosts—”

“The rest of my friends are not automatically ghosts. Geez, don’t you stalk me enough to know that? Wasn’t that what all your creepy spy stuff was for? Learning everything about me and Mom?”

Vlad sighed, but Daniel would only keep interrupting. Vlad wouldn’t lose anything by humouring him on this. “I can handle your sister.”

“Okay, one, she’s gotten better, and two, she’s not who you’re missing, so it’s a moot point even if you don’t believe me.” Daniel grinned. “So how about some show and tell?”

The final words were pitched louder and carried an emphasis they shouldn’t have, given the mundane nature of the conversation, which should have been Vlad’s first clue. Or perhaps his second. Third? The first clue he shouldn’t have missed, anyway.

But hindsight is always 20/20.

“I dunno,” said Valerie’s voice above him, clear even above the whine of her charging ecto-gun. “You told me a lot, and this showed me a lot, and I didn’t hear a lot of denying going on where it mattered.”

Vlad slowly raised his hands, though that was more for the show of it than anything else. Half the weapons he gave Valerie wouldn’t work on him, or at least wouldn’t work well—if he could figure out a way to exclude his ecto-signature and therefore being recognized as a ghost, he’d done it—but she wouldn’t know that.

Besides, being shot with an ecto-gun in this form would hurt more than it would a regular human, even though he’d set these sorts of weapons to automatically adjust and downgrade their charge should they ever be aimed at him or one of his duplicates.

“Whatever lies Daniel has been telling you—”

“He’s not the one who’s been lying to me,” Valerie hissed, and as Vlad finished turning to look up at where she was perched at the window entrance she always used, he realized that her weapons were not lit with his ecto-energy but with Daniel’s.

They had planned this.

Daniel really hadn’t fallen for his trap; he’d waltzed into it and turned it to his advantage.

Butter biscuits.

(see more fics)

[0nlythrowharrybeaux]

Young American - Part 11**

Finally!!! This one's sweet and smutty! There is visual inspo for the female pleasure part - here it is (18+ ONLY! NSFW - watch at your own risk!)

Warnings: Slight exhibitionism, oral sex (male and female receiving), unprotected sex

Series Masterlist

WC: 10.5K

When Y/N got home she immediately went off to have a body shower to ensure that she was fresh and ready for the evening ahead of her and after that they were chatting as she packed her overnight bag to take to Harry’s place and then finally it came to choosing her outfit for the night. She was buzzing with anticipation as to what he had planned for them, she knew it would be good because they left work early, it was a little past 3pm actually and apparently he had talked to Auree about it in advance so she figured he need that to ensure they had enough time to do whatever it was he was gonna have them do. He told her to be ready by 4:30pm.

“Do I need to wear casual shoes?” Y/N asked Julie who seemed to be in on this entire thing.

“Ummm…you’re not going to do like crazy amounts of walking but some.” She said and Y/N bit her lip as she thought about it.

“Harry said I can be casual.”

“Yeah, you totally can.” Julie said.

“Can I wear a skirt?” Y/N asked and Julie nodded.

“OK… so I’ll wear a skirt because it’s a date.”

“It’s still cold out.” Julie reminded.

“I’ll wear pantyhose.” Y/N reasoned, “Oh and my platform, ankle boots!” She said with excitement, “I haven’t worn them in a while.” She smiled as she started to dig through her clothes to piece together the outfit. It was definitely causal, but still nice and trendy in her opinion. 

“So…Harry.” Her aunt brought up again and Y/N smiled, “How had are you falling for him?” She asked with a smile and Y/N giggled.

“I mean…hard.” She shrugged and then bit her lip, “He’s just…I’ve never met anyone like him.” She explained, “I never told you, but when he first got here he was the worst to me. We had beef. Like I wanted nothing to do with him!” She explained and Julie looked shocked.

“Really?”

“Yeah, he was the worst. I hated him.” She giggled as she thought back on it, “Actually when he called you that time I was home with the migraine?” She asked and Julie nodded as she recalled, “He called you to check in because he thought I had quit the apprenticeship. That’s how much we weren’t getting along.” Y/N explained.

“No way!”Julie gasped, “Sweet, shy, and adorably-dimpled Harry?!” She asked, still in complete disbelief.

“Oh yeah! He was not himself and ummmm, after that he talked to me and apologized, took full responsibility for being an asshole and he asked if we could start over and I said no, that I appreciated his apology and that we were good, but that I didn’t want to spend more time with him than necessary because I just didn’t trust that it wouldn’t happen again. Like I only had bad experiences with him and boy, did he turn it around. He didn’t try to force me to be friends with him or anything, he just changed his attitude and hoped that I would change my mind. That time at the halloween party, that was our first time hanging out-”

“And you ended up in the same bed.” Julie grinned.

“Nothing happened.” Y/N mumbled, “I got up there because in his drunkenness he told me that he had a hard time sleeping in new places and so I got up there with him.” She said and Julie pouted with endearment, “I know!” Y/N cooed, “After he explained himself and apologized and then the party I just…had a huge soft spot for him and it just…grew, I guess.” Y/N shrugged, “He was so sweet and such a big softy, like that’s who he is! He was just struggling a lot, I think with his mental health too after moving here all by himself, he never explicitly said it, but you can tell, you know?” Y/N said and Julie nodded. “Once we accepted that we liked each other things just went really quickly from there and he’s been great ever since. I mean he’s almost 30, so I’d hope he’s mature about stuff.” Y/N giggled.

“Yeah, with men you never know…” Julie mumbled and Y/n giggled.

“Exactly…but yeah, it’s been working and I know I’m only 24, but we work and we both care about each other and open up to each other and I’ve never really had that with someone. Like where it just seems easy and natural.” Julie nodded as Y/N explained.

“Do you love him?” Julie asked with a giddy smile and Y/N felt the entirety of her blood rushing up to her face.

“Ummm… I think so.” She said in a small voice, “I ummm- yeah. Yeah, I guess I do.” She admitted and Julie shrieked in excitement!

“Oh honey! Love is such a wonderful thing!”

“It is. I mean, I’ve been in love before, but it does feel different this time. More intense.” She said and Julie nodded as she listened to everything that was on Y/N’s mind. From her joys about it, but also her fears because in truth, Harry could decide to go back to England at any point and what would happen then? A lot of her concerns were legitimate and as Julie listened on she was able to hear how Y/N would talk herself down from crossing that bridge before it was due time. Y/N was incredibly mature for her age and had  down some rather important skills that would help her better navigate her life. Yes, she did  require a lot of therapy late in her high school years and through her college years, but it had made her the person she was today and Julie couldn’t be more proud of her.

“Well, I think it’s this is wonderful and well, you know that no great love comes without it’s challenges, but if Harry feels anything close to what you do, which I mean, I personally think he does…” she said and Y/N blushed all over again, “Everything will be alright.” She said and Y/N smiled and nodded. Just then, her phone dinged and Y/N squealed as she read that Harry was on his way.

“OK, I have a little over twenty minutes to get ready!” She panicked and rushed around to get herself together so Julie let her be. Harry was punctual and Julie let him in and she held back from cooing in endearment when she sawthe bouquets of flower he had brought along with him. Well there were actually two.

“Hey, welcome back!” Julie said as Harry stepped inside and he smiled.

“Thank you, it’s great to be back.” He said hugging her as she leaned in and she patted his back a few times, “So, these are for you. And-”

“Yeah, the bigger ones are for Y/N…” she said with a grin and he nodded bashfully, “she’s almost done getting ready, are you thirsty?” She asked.

“No, but I’ll follow you into the kitchen." he said and they headed over. She pulled out two vases to put the flowers in and he assured her he could fill them as she notified Y/N that Harry had arrived. He only waited another few minutes before Y/N rushed into the kitchen and Harry immediately stood from his seat. Y/N started smiling when she saw him; they were almost matching. Well, they were both wearing sweater vests, she giggled.

“You look cute!” She grinned with excitement and he bit his lip as he looked her over.

“And you look…perfect. I really like that skirt.” He said before rolling his lips together as he looked her over once again and Julie rolled her eyes as she put some dishes away.

“Thanks.” Y/N responded timidly as she played with her fingers nervously.

“Yeah, ummm, ready to go?” He asked and she nodded.

“Yes, my bag’s already out in the living room.” She assured and he nodded.

“OK. Well Julie, thanks for the hospitality.” Harry said as she turned around and he hugged her quickly.

“Anytime, lover boy.” She said and he chuckled, “Thank you for the flowers, they’re lovely.”

“Course.” He hummed before pulling away and letting Y/N say her goodbyes.

“Behave you two!” Julie called after them as they headed out of the kitchen.

“Always!” Y/N called back.

As soon as they got into the living room she reached up to his jaw and he grinned as she tried to pull his face down towards hers. He easily gave in as their lips met in a hot and fiery kiss. It was a lot of sucking of lips and tangling of tongues as his hands smoothed down her back and very easily traveled up the back of her skirt. He could feel her warm skin beneath the thin pantyhose she was wearing and he squeezed at her ass with need. He wanted to swat it and spank it until it was stinging and sore all while her drenched little cunt took his cock. He hadn’t stopped thinking about finally having sex with her when he got back. He couldn’t wait any longer, he had put off his own pleasure for too long and he didn’t want to do that, not with her. Any time they didn’t have together like that because of his own need to slightly torture himself was foolish and wasteful, he didn’t want to miss out on her, not even for a second.

“Are you two going to ever leave?” They heard Julie call out from the kitchen and this made them laugh until their kiss was no longer possible.

“Yeah! We’re going now!” Y/N said before kissing Harry’s lips once more and he grabbed her big tote and soon they were heading over to his car. “So where are we off to first?”  She asked and he grinned.

“Well it depends on how hungry you are.”

“Not that hungry, I had a nervous snack while I got ready.” She confessed and he chuckled.

“Me too.” He assured her and she grinned, “OK, so let’s do the other thing first.” He said and she groaned.

“Can you give me a hint!?” She asked as they took off and he hummed pensively.

“Hmmm…” he wondered as they drove to get on the freeway, “Ummm, a native Californian has never done and would probably never do it.” He said and she squinted her eyes as she thought about it.

“Yet you’re taking me to do it?”

“Julie assured me you would love this.” He said and she giggled.

“I love that you consulted her.”

“Who knows you better?” He asked and she nodded.

“That’s very true.” She smiled.

“You’re gonna like it.”

“I know I will.” She said as she turned to smile at him. She was so busy admiring his gorgeous and perfect side profile that she didn’t notice that he had placed his hand at the center console, palm up, waiting for her to take it.

“Hold my hand.” He said and she shook herself out of her little trance.

“Huh?” She asked and he chuckled.

“My hand, baby. Hold my hand.” He said again.

“Oh! Yeah, of course.” She said and intertwined their hands together. 

She glanced down at the sheer difference in size of their hands, it made her body tingle when she thought about all the things he had done to her just with his hands. It had been a while since she had sex and she was desperate to have it with Harry. She hoped that’s why he was asking her to stay over. But if it wasn’t she was going to ask because there was nothing that she wanted more than to be close to him in that way. She wanted to experience what he had given her the last time they were together. She had never felt so incredible in her life, it was life altering and she craved to once again be completely and totally at his mercy. When she finally focused back on the road she saw that they were leaving L.A. and taking the 101 Northbound. She didn’t say anything more, she just rested into the seat and enjoyed the ride as she hummed to a song called Sweet Marie and it was rather obscure though, so she glanced to him in confusion.

“I love this song. How did you..?” She smiled and he grinned, “Julie…” she said lowly.

“She helped me make a playlist.” He confessed and she giggled, “Told me you always sing that song. I like it.” He said and she smiled as it came to an end, then a very familiar tune played over the speakers.

“And High Horse?” She asked and he chuckled, “Kacey Musgraves makes me weak.” She said.

“I actually added that one. I just wanted songs that reminded me of you or us or something.” He confessed and she bit her lip to suppress the size of the smile that threatened to break out on her lips, “Ready? The bridge is the best part!” He said and she nodded.

“DARLING YOU TAKE THE HIGH HORSE AND I'LL TAKE THE HIGH ROAD! MMMM.”  They both sang loudly at the top of their lungs before giggling.

"If you're too good for us you'll be good riding solo! Yeah, I think we;ve seen enough, seen enough-" Y/N continued to sing along and he bopped along to the song, doing the harmonies to the melody. And that’s how the rest of the car ride went until he was exiting on Sunset Boulevard, so she assumed they were going to Hollywood… then as they came up on Cahuenga Avenue he made a right and as she looked around she laughed as she glanced to him, seeing what exactly was on their left.

“No fucking way!” She giggled as she saw the big sign that read “PARKING! Hollywood City Tours!” 

“Julie told me you’ve always wanted to go but couldn’t justify paying for it.” He chuckled as they pulled in and the person at the little kiosk asked to see the passes for the tourist attraction and he showed them quickly before he was told to continue on.

“OK, so you decide to pay money for me to have this experience I can’t even justify paying for?” She laughed as he parked.

“Look, I have yet to see any of the attractions myself and if you must know, I am really curious as to where Leo lives, so this is for the both of us.” He said through some laughter and just like that they were ready to get off of the car.

Harry rushed over to her side to help her out of the car before locking it and shutting the door and they proceeded to follow the crowd of people heading around the corner to the rendezvous point. It was a 2 hour tour, so there would be tons to see and soon they had settled into the little bus and they were off and seeing all of the iconic attractions of the rich and famous of Hollywood. They were having a blast and taking all of the cheesy pictures at every attraction, but while on the road to their next destination they were cuddled close and whispering to each other about the people watching they were doing as they drove down the streets of Hollywood. It really was a blast and soon they were stepping off of the bus with the rest of the tourists and waving goodbye to their guide as they headed back to Harry’s car hand in hand.

“So what’d you think?” He asked and she grinned.

“I loved it. I learned stuff I didn’t know.” She mused and he hummed, “What about you?”

“Yeah, I liked it too. But to be quite honest, I was expecting a lot more from Leo’s house…Can’t say it was anything spectacular.” He confessed and she nodded in agreement.

“Yeah, I don’t know why I like pictured him living in like a spaceship or something…” she mumbled as he keyed opened the car door on her side.

“When you say spaceship I think Scientology and then I think Tom Cruise. They’re the ones who believe we’re all these ancient alien beings or something. No?” He asked as he helped her settle in and she started laughing as he went around to his side.

“I think you might be confusing a few things there.” She laughed as she watched him settle himself into the driver’s side.

“M’definitely not.” He looked to her before starting the engine and they had a playful argument about this as they drove down the very lively and busy streets until they were in a very familiar area and soon they were pulling into the sushi restaurant that they had eaten at with G and Rosa a few months ago. She had gone since then, but he hadn’t been with her.

“I love this place.” She hummed in excitement and he smiled as he helped her out and they were soon led back and ironically it was to the table where he had been seated at when they ran into each other. She didn’t know if he recalled that detail but she did.

“Your server will be with you shortly.” The host said before hurrying back to their post and they both thanked the guy.

“Not to put a damper on the mood, but this is where you sat that time we ran into each other. Remember?” She reminded him and he nodded.

“Yeah, I know.” He smiled, “I literally was so depressed the last time I was here…” he said and she pouted.

“Baby,” she sighed, “should we ask them to move us?” She asked and started to glance around for the server.

“No, it’s alright.” He assured her, “I called ahead and asked them if we could sit here.” He explained.

“Aw baby, why? Don’t want you to be bummed out.” She said and he shook his head.

“I’m not.” He responded, “Finally got my date, didn’t I?” He asked with a little grin and she smiled and nodded.

“That you did.” She smiled at him and reached for his hand.

“You’re better anyway.” He said with a smile as he squeezed her hand a bit and she shrugged, rolling her eyes playfully as if saying “obviously”.

“I mean, I didn’t want to be the one to say it…but only an idiot would pass you up.” She said and he blushed at her compliment, which made her feel quite good. He’d been so easily flustered lately and maybe it had been the distance? She couldn’t speak for him, but absence had certainly made her heart grow fonder. Because of that, now she was less bashful about flirting back and making him feel as special as he did her. She didn’t want to waste her time with being bashful or subtle about her feelings for him, especially when he constantly put his admiration for her out there the way he did. The least she could do was reciprocate.

“Thanks.” He smiled tenderly at her, “I know that wasn’t the best night for me, but I wanted to sit here anyway because this was also the literal spot where I realized that I wanted more with you.” He said and her smile faded and a sentimental look washed over her features as they softened up, “Wanted to come back here with you and tell you that it’s been…a while for me…liking you.” He said and she squeezed his hand, “You’re just such a beautiful person and you showed me exactly who you were in that moment. Even if I wanted to not go there at first, it couldn’t be helped, not after that night. After everything I had put you through, for you to show me kindness and care like that,” He paused for a moment as his eyes bore into hers intensely and she bit her lip as her heart started to beat intensely as she recalled it too, “in that moment, with that simple act of compassion, you completely ruined me for anyone else.” He confessed and she felt the air completely leave her lungs as his gorgeous eyes stayed on her own, “And I’ve wanted you more than anything ever since.” He finished quietly. She could cry just hearing this. All that time he liked her?

“I don’t even know what to say…” she smiled and squeezed his hand, she wanted nothing more than to climb into his side of the booth and kiss him breathless.

“You don’t have to say anything, I know things were different for you then, but I just wanted you to know that I’ve been in this for… a while.” He smiled and she nodded. She knew just the thing to say to him, but she didn’t want to do it here and now, she wanted to do it when she had the space and privacy to love on him too. But now she felt like that moment couldn’t come soon enough. The words kept clawing their way up her throat and it was so hard to ward them off as their evening carried on. How was she not supposed to fall in love with him when he did things like this? It was impossible not to! He was so sweet and endearing and a true romantic at heart and she had never been with anyone who was this thoughtful before; it only made everything she felt for him more intense.

After they finished eating they took a little walk down the street to get some ice cream even if it was cold out. They ended up sharing a small cup as they walked down the cute little strip of shops. Harry was telling her about his time back home and the pieces he had been able to do and how thankfully, his confidence in himself and his work had been restored, he knew he needed to be patient. She was feeling giddy as they walked back towards his car, hand in hand and just before he opened up her door he pressed her against it and she moaned as their lips molded together. Her hands slithered up his chest and looped around his neck as she craned her own neck upwards to have better access to his lips.

“Mmm…just letting you know,” he said between kisses, “You’re in for a very long night, baby.” He disclosed before kissing her again and she smiled.

“Is that so?”

“Yep.” He grinned before they started making out again, “Gotta,” he paused to make out with her just a little more as her tongue teased his bottom lip, causing their kiss to deepen and intensify and then he pulled back with a bit of a wet gasp, “Gotta make up for lost time.” He reasoned and she grinned and he growled lowly as he leaned down and tugged her now swollen bottom lip between his teeth and sucked on it. She whimpered as she felt him fit his knee between her legs and raised it a bit. It brushed up her inner thigh but didn’t quiet reach where she was wet and aching for him already and then he let go and kissed her forehead, “Starting now.” He smiled as he spoke against it, she couldn’t see it, but she could hear it in his voice, “Already wet for me?” He asked as he looked down at her and she nodded up at him, “Good, baby. I’m aching for you.” He mumbled as he pressed his hips forward, because of their height difference he reached more of her lower stomach, like right below her navel and it made her gulp as she rolled her body into his own. They were in a darker spot of the parking lot, but it was still very much a public place and the idea of getting caught doing even this had her on edge, but she didn’t care as much as she thought she ought to.

“Can we please go?” She asked and he smirked, “Need you so bad, H. Please.” She pleaded with him and he smirked, his dimple carved deep into his cheek.

“Always with those impeccable manners, baby. S’gonna be my undoing one day.” He hummed before scooting them over a bit and she heard him unlock the car door and she smiled up at him.

“Thank you.” She said and he smirked again before he helped her down into the seat before shutting her door and hurrying over to his. 

Harry was trying to get home quickly, it was a lot for him to be sitting beside her without fully being able to touch her or give her his undivided attention. His body was running hot all over and he felt like he would implode if he had to wait another second before he was able to touch her in the way that he wanted. He just wanted a taste of her, he’d been clinging to the memory as hard as possible, but it just couldn’t be replicated. He saw how her fingers were clutched together tightly in her lap and how her thighs would rub together every now and again and it only made him even more horny than he already was.

“Baby,” he grabbed her attention and she turned to him, “I need you to touch yourself for me and let me taste.” He said to her and her eyes widened for a second at his request, “I just need to taste you.” He repeated again with a hint of exasperation in his tone before turning back to the road and she sighed.

“God, I want to but my pantyhose go above my skirt, baby. I’d have to take everything off since I’m quite layered.” She explained with a pout and he groaned.

“Baby, just tear them where it counts.” He said and she giggled thinking he was joking but when she looked at him she knew that it hadn’t even been a suggestion, he was telling her to tear her pantyhose.

The look on his face was serious and almost pained to an extent and that made her want to be good for him, to do as he said. So she pulled off one of the rings she was wearing, one that had some texture around the accent stone, and brought it down between her legs and scored the pantyhose along the top of her inner thigh, right up near the crotch. After a second attempt she felt the material split and she slipped the ring back on and then widened her legs a bit more before reaching in between them with her left hand, making the tear bigger as she wiggled her fingers beneath the thong she was wearing. As Harry glanced over briefly he saw her getting in there and licked over his lips, already salivating in anticipation of tasting her, her flavor was his absolute favorite and there was nothing more he wanted in this world than to be buried between her legs. Y/N bit down on her lip as she swirled two fingers into her folds, she was soaking wet, she hadn’t expected anything less, but she had really tried to be patient about getting off, like he was. She had only touched herself twice since he had gone back to England and she understood the appeal of it afterwards, how it made her feel powerful and strong, disciplined. She knew he would like that.

“ Baby, please…” he strained and that’s when she realized that she had been playing with herself for several moments. 

“Sorry, it’s been a while.” She said glancing to him and he glanced back at her with a look in his eyes that screamed “why would you say that to me?” And it made her feel really good, “Got carried away.” She said as she drew her fingers away from herself and offered them to him over the console. 

As the traffic slowly came to a stop he came at her fingers tongue first and sucked them clean. Y/N felt a shiver radiate through her body at the feeling of his tongue and mouth around her fingers, she couldn’t help the moan that left her mouth as he sucked fervently, even after he had sucked away her arousal from them.

“Fuck, missed that. Missed you.” He mumbled as he grabbed her hand and kissed her open palm.

“Missed you too, could hardly get off without you.” She said and he groaned lowly, the traffic was still stopped.

“Hardly?” He asked and she nodded.

“I struggled. You’re so good at the edging part and I just get carried away and come too fast, so after the second try I just decided to wait for you to take care of it when you got back.” She explained.

If only she could read Harry’s mind… he had so many things he wanted to do to her to make her feel good. He had actually brought back some of his sex accessories with him that he had left in storage at his grandmother’s house (odd, but he knew she wouldn’t snoop like his mom might). He was well aware of what he liked and the ways in which he liked to push his partners, but he had yet to have that talk with Y/N and it was something he needed to do soon because so far he’d been playing by what he was into and she was very open to it, but he also wanted to know what she liked and give her that. Something he had been thinking about constantly was restraining her and pleasuring her until she couldn’t take any more, until she was completely spent for him. She would be so good for him, he was certain. She’d struggle minimally…she’d trust him and let it happen, let it run its course. He wanted to praise her and compliment her until she was blushing and bashful. He wanted to whisper filthy things to her while he filled her up with his cum over and over again.

“Fuck me…” he mumbled under his breath as her words processed in his mind “How do you want me to do it this time, hmmm?” He asked and she bit her lip.

“Like we are now.” She said and he grinned, “Having to wait all day has been…hard, to say the least. But I don’t mind because I know you’re worth the wait.” She hummed as she shifted a bit in her seat. 

Her words just about melted Harry’s brain, no one had ever said that to him, that he was worth the wait. It made his heart skip a beat and for goosebumps to break out on his skin. He felt like he had been waiting his whole life for her and despite his want to just ease his way into everything with her, he knew in that moment that he couldn’t avoid labeling what he felt for her any longer. He was in love with her; he was absolutely wrecked for her. He looked into her eyes and they just stared. They weren’t even sure for how long because next thing he knew the car behind them was honking loudly, indicating to them that traffic had started to move and they glanced up to the road in embarrassment only to see that the car ahead of him had maybe only moved up about 5 feet. So he turned to Y/N with a grin and she giggled as she showed him her middle finger and he nodded so they rolled the windows down and both stuck their hands out, giving the very impatient driver behind them the finger before pulling their arms back in as they laughed.

“What an asshole, where are we supposed to go?” She scoffed and Harry shook his head.

“Right…but back to what you were saying…” he grinned and she got all bashful and shrugged.

“I guess I like the teasing.” She accepted and he smiled and reached for her thigh as he leaned over and she met him the rest of the way to kiss him. She tensed up for a second when his fingers inched between her legs and ultimately they parted in a soft gasp as they slipped under her thong and pet at her drenched folds, “Love how wet you get for me, baby.” He said against her lips before sucking at her bottom lip, “Your little clit’s already so fucking swollen.” He smiled and she whimpered as he then reached lower, he was slipping into the crease of her labia and looking for her entrance and finally he did and rubbed over her little hole as she moaned up at the ceiling, “Fuck, c’mere.” He said as he pulled her close and smeared their lips together in a desperate kiss, still not pushing his finger inside, as much as he wanted to feel her warm and tight walls around it.

“Please, daddy, need to feel it inside.” She whimpered and he groaned as he shook his head.

“Tonight I’m giving you my cock.” He said through bated breaths, he felt like his blood was boiling with need, he had not felt this out of control since he was a teenager, it was exhilarating, “Want to open you up with it, yeah? So fucking wet I know we can get it all in on the first try.” He said and she swallowed hard and nodded.

“Oh fuck, yes please.” She panted as his finger continued to swirl around her entrance.

“Yeah.” He smirked, “Gonna fit my whole cock into this tight little thing, you’ll see. Gonna fill you to the brim, baby and then I’ll give you my cum.” He practically growled, his voice was so deep and lust-filled that is covered her skin in goosebumps, “Want to watch my cum dripping out of this little hole.” Y/N moaned just at the thought, “Would you like that, baby?” He asked and she nodded as she swallowed thickly, “Use your words, baby. Want to hear you say it. Say it for me.” He insisted.

“W-want you to fill me up with so much of your cum it’s dripping from me, daddy.” She sputtered out through her swollen lips.

“Mmmm…been waiting to make you my little cum slut.” He hummed with excitement, “M’warning you now, you better keep it all inside, if not I’ll have to punish you.” He said lowly and she moaned, “I want you to keep it nice and hot inside your delicious, little cunt where it belongs.” He said before melting their lips together again. Harry had never said that to anyone before, but it just felt right to say to her, “Fuuuck, I want you so bad.” He moaned before their tongues met. He was impossibly hard in his pants and it hurt; his cock and balls were aching from neglect and anticipation. 

“Want you too. Need you.” She sighed against his mouth. It made Harry feel so good about himself and about what they had with each other.

“I need you too. I need you so bad, baby. M’gonna take great care of you, OK?” He assured as he pecked her lips a few times and she nodded, he always did, “Want to make you feel so good you forget your name, forget where you are. Want you to only see me.” He shared as he caressed her face and she inhaled sharply as she felt a wave of heat roll through her entire body.

“How much longer are we gonna be stuck in this fucking traffic.” She sighed in irritation and he shook his head.

“It’ll clear up soon, don’t worry. We’ve got all night.” he assured Y/N. Both of their faces were glowing red from the brake lights of the car before them. And suddenly the lights dimmed and he looked forward and saw the car before him start to roll forward and he turned back to her and grinned, “Manifestation 101.” he giggled and she shrugged, “Learned from the best.” He said as he started to take off as well. After a few moments the flow of traffic picked up and soon they were back to a reasonable speed and soon approaching the exit to get to his place and it was all flow from there.

As soon as Harry keyed them into his place Y/N set down her overnight bag and turned him around and pushed him up against it, a low grunt escaped his lungs at the harsh contact against his back but that didn’t stop him from kissing her back the moment their lips made contact. With his sight being impacted by the darkness the feel of her lips was a lot more enjoyable and the sounds of their harsh breathing and kisses were overpowering everything else. Y/N bunched up his vest in her fists and he took the time to smooth down her body with the palms of his hands, feeling the different textures of the fabric shielding her skin from his touch. As he felt around he found the zip of her skirt and he gently tugged at it.

“May I?” He muttered against her mouth as she kissed at his lower lip as she nodded.

“Yes. Please.” She insisted and he smiled as he tugged down the zipper and felt around to ensure there was no clasp before giving it a little tug to get it just under her hips so that it slid the rest of the way down on its own. Harry then ran his hands up the sheer material of her tights over her hips before gently grazing over her bum with his nails, the slight tickle made her titter a bit and he smiled at her response to his teasing and feathery touch.

“Should we take this to my bedroom?” He asked and she nodded without any words and he kissed her deep and slow before parting from her mouth, “OK, C’mon.” He said finding her hand that was still on his chest and intertwining their fingers, before heading off, he first bent down and collected her skirt before walking them through the darkness. His bedroom had no windows to grant them even the slightest bit of moonlight, so he helped her to the bed and she sat as he rounded the corner of it to switch on the reading lamp he had on the bedside. 

“You got a headboard.” She exclaimed as she looked around and he chuckled as he stooped down before her and kissed her.

“To be fair I’ve had for a while, I just put it up.” He defended and she giggled. Even if he’d just gotten back from England, there was not a suitcase in sight. It seemed he had unpacked immediately, “And I even unpacked as soon as I got home last night.” He said as he pushed her down into the mattress and she grinned as he confirmed her thoughts.

“Is that so?” 

“Yeah, baby, I don’t feel how I used to before. Well now that I h-have you.” He said and her smile completely dropped as her eyes softened as they just stared at each other for a few seconds. 

Truly, they had both been lost and wandering in their own ways without each other and now that they were together it felt like things had finally started to fall into place for each of them. Maybe they were both scared to verbalize it, but the way they were looking into each other’s eyes said exactly what it was they wanted to get out. It changed the energy in the room dramatically, it brought the tension between them to a new and unbearable high and soon their lips were colliding ardently once more as they started to undressed each other, when his trousers came off Y/N immediately fell to her knees and tugged down his briefs as she kissed up his thighs, stopping a second to smile at the tiger she had given him.

“You first, last time I was-”

“H, stop neglecting yourself, just this once, please?” She asked looking up to him as he was trying to pull her up from between his legs, “Love everything you do, but believe me, this is what I’ve been dreaming of the most.” She confessed and he bit over his bottom lip and nodded as he sat down on the mattress, bracing himself as he felt her warm breath fall over his fully hard cock. It twitched at the slightest form of attention and she smiled as she moved to kiss and suck at his inner thighs. 

She had missed his body so much, not even just sexually, but seeing it before her, feeling it close to hers, he was always so warm, and his muscles were so evident even though he wasn’t trying very hard to flex them. She had never been with anyone as gorgeous as he was. Maybe it was because he was nearly five years older than her, she had never gone for anyone more than 3 yeas her senior, and he clearly took very good care of himself; he knew what mattered. When you’re young, yeah some people work out and watch what they eat, but they’re not actually living healthily by going on bingers and pulling all nighters - that wasn’t Harry at all. He even said so at Vy’s party, so the way he looked after himself was evident all over his body and she absolutely adored it. 

Harry felt like he was going to burst at the seams as Y/N’s slow and torturous sucks and kisses trailed higher up his thighs. Everything about her was perfection to him and he patiently waited for her next move, clutching the sheets hard beneath him as he just barely licked at his tip, causing his mouth to fall open and moan. She moaned in response when he expected a smug smile, but this told him that she wasn’t taking her time to tease, she was just enjoying the moment, like he was. His brows creased in response to her warm and soft palm wrapping around  his erection and she then gave it a gentle squeeze before she started tugging up and down slowly, stimulating all of the nerves that were so sensitive from the blood that had rushed down to his cock.

“Fuuuck…” he mewled breathily as she started to suck at his tip fervently. It was making his thighs and abs tense up impossibly tight. Yes, he wanted to feel good, but not to the point where he completely lost himself and this was over too soon. But the things she was doing to him with her mouth had him feeling like he was levitating. The sounds coming out of him as she stimulated all of his most sensitive spots were spurring her on until she could feel his thighs trembling, “Shit!” He gasped, “Y-you’re gonna make me come!” He warned her as she took him all the way down to her throat, “Oh baby, I’m gonna come!” He warned again, but she didn’t plan on pulling off as he started to thrust up into her mouth. It wasn’t particularly comfortable since he was big, but she wanted to taste him again, just as he had been so insistent on getting a taste of her, “Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck!” He chanted as his hips thrust up into her hot little mouth without his permission. It was all so wet and sloppy, even his thighs were sticky with her saliva and it just pushed him over the edge completely and with a drawn out moan he started to shoot his cum down her throat. Harry grunted as he held her down for a few seconds, riding it out still down her throat.

Y/N was swallowing down the thick and generous gushes of his sperm as best as she could, but she knew there was bound be a little bit of a mess. And when he released her and she came up for air with tearful eyes and a slightly burning throat she saw that she had definitely dripped down onto her shirt and she just sighed as she rested her cheek against his bare thigh, looking up at him with a few tears streaking down her cheeks from how deep he had gotten in. Harry was still collecting himself and catching his breath, but that didn’t stop him as he swiped two fingers along her chin and the corners of her mouth to clean up any of his residual mess and she glanced up to watch him sink them between his lips before smiling down at her.

“Alright?” He asked and she smiled and nodded.

“Needed that.” She responded hoarsely and he smiled as he then wiped at her tear-stained cheeks with his thumbs. Yeah, he certainly didn’t want to be the first to come tonight, but on the plus side, now that his first orgasm was out of the way he’d be able to last a lot longer when he got inside of her. He quite literally wanted to take her breath away. She had never really talked to him about her past sexual encounters, so he had no idea what they had been like or if he was even a serious contender for best lay ever, but he wanted to be. He wanted to be the best for her, just how she had been then absolute best for him. She hummed as his fingers raked through her hair and then she giggled.

“Are you trying to put me to sleep?” She questioned, a hint of a slur dripped over her voice and he sniggered.

“No, definitely not.” He assured and she blinked up at him lazily.

“Then stop.” She suggested through a giggle and he bit his lip as he ran his hand back and collected as much of her hair as he could before suddenly yanking it back and she gasped at the sudden rough action. Her scalp stung a bit but in a delicious way, it made her even more wet as the sting seemed to travel through her body and give it more warmth.

“What about this? Is this better?” He asked and she smiled up at him with these “fuck me” eyes that never failed to make his heart skip a beat, “Hmmm?” He pressed again and she swallowed thickly as she nodded, “Use your words for me, baby.” He ordered, it wasn’t as demanding as it was teasing and it made her melt when he got like this.

“Yes, daddy.” She responded lowly and he smirked. 

She was perfect, everything he had ever dreamed of, and she was about to make him break the record for shortest refractory period ever - he already felt the blood starting to rush through his body and focusing around his groin. Everything about her lit his fire, she ticked off boxes he didn’t even know existed before and he loved that she was a mixed bag of prizes only, everything about her was good. She was certainly a little younger than he would typically go for, but that was just it, he never intended on going for her, she was just there. The universe, fate, god, whatever was out there…it had gifted Y/N to him and he couldn’t get over how lucky he was.

“You’re so fucking perfect, you know that?” He asked and she smiled softly at him, “Such a good girl for me.” He hummed as his eyes scanned over her pretty face and stretched out neck, he wanted to suck and bite at it. He needed to get her naked now. Suddenly she was squinting as she looked at his right hand and he looked to her in confusion as she reached for it and he gave it to her as he released her hair and she smiled down upon noticing his birth mark over his right wrist and then she looked up at his eyes, still smiling before she kissed it and he had to bite down on his lip to not smile so hard, but his heart was pounding hard in his chest.

“It’s cute.” She said and he grinned bashfully.

“Do you have one?” He asked her and she nodded as she stood up and extended her left forearm to him and he saw just a slightly darker little splotch on her skin.

“S’really small though.” She said and he hummed and kissed it too, which had her body also swimming with excitement and endearment towards him.

“So that just means it’s cuter.” He said as he kissed over it again and then down her wrist and to her open palm. His eyes glanced up to hers as he did it again and she smiled at the slight tickles as her fingers from her right hand busied themselves with his hair. He kissed at her palm again, all while looking into her eyes, “You’ve got me, ” kiss, “Right.” kiss, “Here.” kiss. He hummed and she felt like the blood in her veins had been replaced with that popping candy. Every part of her was tingling and her stomach was swirling with the most pleasant mix of joy and adoration, her skin was covered in goosebumps as their eyes bore into each other’s for what felt like the millionth meaningful time that night and it made her heart continue to grow in size, he made it hard to breathe. Before she could even say anything he flipped her hand and kissed the top of it, “Can I finish undressing you?” He asked her and she nodded.

“Yes.” She barely got out and he smiled as he stood and pulled off of the shirt she had on, skimming down her stomach before reaching the hem and pulling it off, and then she was just in her underwear and he was looking over her body with a lethal mix of adoration and lust. It made her feel gorgeous and special and it was addicting, the way he looked at her took her breath away.

Harry’s hands slid around her waist and them up towards the clasp of her bra and he snapped it undone quickly before sliding it off her body and tossing it onto the bedside table, then his fingers reached back down to roll down her tights and her thong together. The lower they got, the lower he went… he kissed down her stomach and then her hips, her thighs, her knees…and when he got to her ankles he had her balance herself on his shoulder as he got it all the way down and kissed her ankle as he took the tights off, and he did the same to get it off of her other leg. His big, warm hands ran up the back of her legs as he pressed his face against her vuvla, kissing her and taking in her scent, he was obsessed with it. He kneaded at her ass and then landed a few smacks on it, making her gasp as the sharp stings left on her skin before he rubbed it over.

“More please…” She requested breathily as her head rolled back and he grinned and landed a few more smacks before roughly kneading at her ass to ease the pain a little. Her skin was littered in goosebumps afterwards and it drove him absolutely crazy, maybe next time she’d let him spank her little cunt; if she liked this, the latter would have her dripping wet for him - well, more than she probably was now.

“C’mon, want you to sit on my face, baby.” He said lowly and she obliged as he laid down against the pillows at the head of the bed and she followed, kneeling over him and giving him a moment to get comfortable before she started to lower herself. She bit her lip to suppress her smirk as she glanced down to his mouth already open, tongue out and ready to get a taste. She didn’t prolong his torture and just had a seat and he moaned in pleasure as soon as his tongue wedged itself deep against her folds. This caused her to tangle her hands in his hair as she ground down along with his movements. It couldn’t have been more than three  minutes before she was steadying herself on the headboard, crying out as she unexpectedly got washed out by an orgasm. She was trembling above him as he moaned against her sensitive pussy, his licks and sucks slowed down as he eased her off of it, but he wasn’t done yet, he needed more. So when she had come down enough he helped her lay down and he made out with her for a bit before he went back down and got his mouth back onto her pussy. 

He was slower this time, tickling her clit with the tip of his tongue before started to kiss at her gently, his tongue rolled out before he’d pucker up and kiss at her throbbing little bud and all she could do was fall back and enjoy as he took his sweet time to make her feel good. And this was something he was exceptional at, he used his entire mouth to get her off, she had never experienced anything like it. It caused a chill to rack through her body  as she held her legs open for him and gave him room to do his thing. His warm and heavy tongue gave her consistent and heavy licks as he swirled around her little button deliciously. He then extended the range of his tongue, licking from lower down and laving up to her clit again, over and over as she moaned and whimpered. For him, his lips sometimes closed to suck and it drove her up the wall.

“Mmmmmgod, you’re so good at that…” she mewled dramatically as he started to go faster and licked from her entrance up to her clit, “Oh god!” She gasped when he started to flick his tongue side to side until her walls were tightening up impossibly and the he started to slow down again, still continuing to use his mouth on every part of her sopping pussy. She started losing control of her hips, bucking them up slightly, eager for more as he orgasm started to approach once again, “I’m so close, baby! So close!” She moaned out. This only encouraged him as he reached to her cunt and used his index and middle finger to spread her open and expose her clit and he started to really focus his licks from her little hole to her clit and he made her writher beneath him as the muscled in her stomach started to tighten to the point of pain, but it just felt too good. Especially when the tip of his tongue dipped into her entrance over and over, the nerves there were so sensitive that it started to make her back arch.

“Mmmm, come for me.” He muttered against her and she immediately let go. His licking  intensified as he worked her through her orgasm, he managed to pull another little one out of her when he flicked at her clit and swirled his tongue around over and over until she was digging her fingers into his hair and shaking.

“Please… please…” she panted tiredly and he hummed, pulling back for a second before kissing at her gently a couple times before pulling away completely and helping her legs back down onto the mattress. She was still quivering with the aftershocks as his hands smoothed up her legs. He kissed at her knees before settling his body over hers and connecting their lips together. His erection was at full size again as he lowered his hips against hers she whimpered into his mouth.

“Sensitive?” He asked and she nodded, her vision still blurry from her last few orgasms, “Just let me know if you want me to grab the condoms. Or if you’re spent we can just have a warm bath.” He said and she reached around his neck and connected their lips and shook her head.

“If I don’t want to use a condom?” She asked and he moaned as he kissed her deeply.

“Right, your implant.” He said and she nodded, “We don’t have to, but I just want you to know that I don’t expect it just because you’re on birth control.” He said and she nodded.

“Thank you, baby. I do want to feel you if that’s alright.” She said quietly.

“It’s alright.” He assured and he moaned quietly as he felt her hips adjusting, his cock sliding around and making her tingle, “Want it inside?” He asked and she nodded.

“Please. Want to feel it inside.” She was well aware that he had done nothing to stretch her out for him, he had told her he wanted his cock to open her up and she was just fine with that, she was turned on enough for things to go smoothly. He adjusted himself so that the tip of his cock was sliding down to her entrance, he was gently pushing against it, wanting to make her body open up all on it’s own for him. She was so sensitive there and moaning as she felt him right up against her.

“C’mon baby, take it. Relax for me.” He hummed and she nodded, exhaling shakily and realizing her body as he pressed against her again and they both moaned as his tip sunk into her wet and tight pussy, “Fuck.” He groaned lowly, she was so tight and hot around him as he started to sink in deeper, her walls opened up as he spread her open, moaning against her mouth at the feeling of her pussy swallowing his cock and drawing it in deeper and deeper. She hitched her legs up against his hips to allow him to get in all the way and they both sighed as he bottomed out. He ground against her and her eyes rolled back as her nails raked down his back and he hissed at the sting.

“Move. Please move.” She requested and he nodded as he started to thrust slowly at first, watching her body react to his, he was trying not to get lost in the feeling of it all. Her hips moved along with him and when her walls would flutter around his cock it felt like he wouldn’t be able to hold out. 

“Mmmm, you feel amazing, baby.” He moaned against her mouth.

“You too, you’re so deep.” She whimpered and he grinned as he shifted a bit and her brows creased as her mouth fell open in shock as he nudged into her g-spot, “Oh fuuuuck, right there!” She praised as her eyes rolled back.

“Yeah, baby? Feel’s good?” He asked, voice breathy from his actions as his hips snapped into her over and over again in deep and intentional plunges. 

“Yes, you feel so good!” She whimpered as just feeling him there started getting her close to her climax at an alarming rate.

“Rub your little clit for me, baby.” He panted and she did as he told her, her fingers passed over her swollen little bud over and over, it was nearly making her eyes cross with both of their actions combined. 

They were both struggling to breathe as the pleasure they felt started to overcome their bodies. Their eyes were locked on each other’s as they moaned and breathed each other’s air, bodies warm and damp from sweat as they worked hard to make each other come undone. Y/N wasn’t only reeling from the feeling of him deep inside, but as her free hand ran over his warm and toned body. He was built to perfection and it made her hot all over. He started going harder and faster and her legs started to shake around him as her abs tensed up.

“Fuck, can feel you squeezing me…” he groaned, “Come for me, give it to me, baby.” Harry panted, his brows creased as her tightening walls brought him even closer to the edge than before. 

He couldn’t hold on anymore, his body was just on the brink and he couldn’t hold off from it. Just then. Y/N cried out as she started to flutter around his cock. Her back arched and her eyes blurred over with tears as she started to wither over his cock. His thrusts were relentless as he chased his own orgasm and it was spurring on her own for even longer. She rubbed at her clit faster and faster until she gasped upon feeling the first gush of her cum squirting from her body. It covered her in goosebumps and her ears started ringing at the overwhelming pleasure coursing through her body and sending each and every nerve ending in her body into overdrive. She writhed beneath Harry and swallowed down his grunts as he thrust harder and deeper than before, making her gasp as he spilled his load inside of her. She could feel his warmth filling her up deliciously. Pump after pump of it made her all warm and even more sticky than before. He moaned as he looked down between their body to see her leaking her and his cum as he continued thrusting slower now to ride it out until he finally kissed her again and slowly rolled his hips to a stop. They were hardly breathing properly, but he didn’t care as he smiled against her mouth and tangled his fingers in her hair.

“So fucking perfect. You’re so fucking perfect.” He mumbled to her lovingly before kissing all over her face. Her ears were still slightly ringing from the intensity of it all and all she craved now was to be completely enveloped in his warmth.

“This was perfect, thank you.” She whispered and he chuckled breathily.

“No, thank you, baby. For letting me in like that.” He whispered and she swallowed the lump of nerves that was lodged in her throat, but she couldn’t hold back anymore, not when they were looking at each other the way they were right now, the way they had been over and over throughout the night…

“Harry.”

“Yes, baby?” He asked with a small smile and she swallowed thickly.

“I-I love you.” She said in a small and timid voice and she worried for a moment when he didn’t respond verbally, but soon his lips were gently connecting to hers and their eyes fluttered closed as the kiss continued before he took a breath and his forehead pressed to hers.

“I love you too.” He whispered, “I love you too.” He repeated with a smile.

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[paleparearchive]

Pre-Halloween voicelines

Trick or treat!🎃 Here's everyone's limited voicelines for the day before Halloween!

Van Gogh: It's almost Halloween! I want to dress up and play too!

Courbet: Halloween, huh... I bet there will be some morons playing pranks…

Da Vinci: It will soon be Halloween. You also... seem to be looking forward to it.

Renoir: Halloween, huh? Pranks from you are more than welcome.

Rembrandt: My Halloween costume? Apparently, Van Dyck-kun is going to prepare it for me.

Michelangelo: I'm not gonna wear a costume. Don't get your hopes up.

Hokusai: “Halloween”? I see, so it's like Obon¹.

Gauguin: I have a feeling that Van Gogh prepared a costume for me without my permission…

Monet: It's almost Halloween! I'm gonna dress up as a werewolf! Roaaaar!

Raffaello: Halloween is almost here... I am looking forward to see everyone's costumes.

Munch: I love Halloween! I get to make more frieeends!~

Giotto: It's almost Halloween! Shall I prepare some sweets for the kids?

Sisley: I'm sure everyone will be dressed up in wonderful costumes.

Bazille: It's fine to enjoy Halloween, but don't use fake blood because it's confusing, okay?

Kuroda: Are there kids who will try to get sweets from me… yes, there are. Guess I have no choice, I’ll just go to the candy store.

Ingres: So you want to make a jack-o-lantern. ... Then, let's start with the measurements.

Delacroix: It's the kids' job to get sweets. What's the point of me dressin' up?

Watteau: It’s almost Halloween, huh? What are ya gonna dress up as? If ya don't know, I can pick one out for ya…?

Velazquez: If you're going to hand out sweets to kids, you'd better be prepared early.

Van Dyck: A costume? I would look beautiful in anything.

Rubens: Halloween is all about costumes, of course! What kind of costume should we make everyone wear?

El Greco: Halloween, huh? On my island, the spirits would play tricks on people.

Jan: It seems Bert-nii is making more sweets than usual.

Hubert: Halloween is almost here... Leave the sweets preparation to me!

Millet: Halloween costumes, huh... I'm a bit plain, so I guess that would be okay…

Manet: Halloween is coming soon. It's fun to enjoy the commoners' entertainment once in a while.

Mucha: Everyone seems enthusiastic about getting ready for the masquerade.

Hiroshige: “Halloween”... is it like the Obon¹ from my hometown?

¹: Obon (お盆) or just Bon (盆) is a fusion of the ancient Japanese belief in ancestral spirits and a Japanese Buddhist custom to honor the spirits of one's ancestors. The festival of Obon lasts for three days; however, its starting date varies within different regions of Japan. Traditionally, Obon was celebrated on the 15th day of the seventh month of the lunar calendar. [Source: Wikipedia]

[seitmai]

I loved this and therfore have many thoughts

Early September was brutal in southern California. Each day seemed hotter than the one before it, and even the smallest bit of yard work was enough to leave Bradley sweaty and miserable. He stood in the middle of his front yard, eyes closed, thinking about how beautiful autumn was in Virginia when he was a kid. He leaned against the handle of the rake, picturing a pumpkin patch, a corn maze and all the things he would never find in San Diego.

🥺🥺🥺

What he didn't mention was the fact that he often still felt like a bit of an outsider in town, even though he attended all the neighborhood potlucks and still had some blond in his hair from hanging out on the local beaches all summer.

Poor Bradley 🥺

"And you like the neighborhood?" you asked, fully facing him now with a smirk on your face. He shrugged the best he could without moving too much. "I might like it better now."

Oh he is such a flirt 🤭

Then there was the day you bumped into him coming out of the salon next to his barber, and he complimented your colorful nails at the same time you told him his haircut looked nice. He blushed, and you smiled before turning toward your car, glancing back at him a little expectantly. 

So cute😍

"Why's that?" you asked, placing your hand on your hip while you held up a head of cabbage. "You're a picky eater?" He shook his head and took a step closer to you. "The exact opposite. I love food. I will eat literally anything that is edible." "I guess it makes sense that you love food," you told him with a smile. "You're a big boy." Your gaze drifted down along his shoulders and chest before you started to look a little embarrassed. "I... yeah... I think I'll just grab whatever looks good and take it from there. See you on Friday night?" "Yeah," he grunted as you walked toward an eggplant display. He would see you on Friday night. And he would be prepared ahead of time to ask you out.

He definitely is rehearsing, asking her out in front of the mirror as soon as he is home 🤭

Once again, your laughter had him ready to drop what he was holding and reach for you. He had to ask you out tonight. It had been weeks already since you moved in, and you were definitely giving him a green light. He could think of a dozen different restaurants he wanted to take you to, and maybe you'd like the artsy little movie theater.

It's so cute that he has all these ideas already 🥹

He ran his hand over his face and groaned, parking in front of the restaurant and yanking his keys from the ignition. If he'd just asked you out that day, maybe he'd be picking up twice as much food and sharing it with you tonight.

Oh he is regretting all his life choices right then and there

The air was silent except for the muffled sound of food being prepared in the kitchen behind him. Your eyes looked so sad as you shook your head and pressed your lips together. "No. No, I'm sorry, Bradley."

Oh noooo💔🥺

For the first time since he moved to California, the air outside was too cold. There was an uncomfortable knot in his stomach as he glanced over at your car. He shivered miserably as he saw the shadow of someone waiting in your passenger seat. Then he drove home and ate alone in his kitchen before going to bed.

He is heartbroken before anything even happened 💔 🥲

Today was Halloween, and he spent over an hour carving some of the pumpkins to look like soccer balls before dressing in his usual costume. Handing candy out to the neighborhood kids and trying to guess what they were dressed as sounded like fun. He was determined to have a good night, even if he did have to angle the folding chair on his porch so he was facing slightly away from your house. He would enjoy himself no matter what.

🥺🥺🥺

"Where's Raphael?" he asked as they collected their candy.  Leonardo laughed and said, "Nobody wants to be Raphael. He's the lamest one." "I would have to agree," Bradley replied, about to help himself to a piece of candy as they started to run to the next house.

I feel like Rooster is good with kids because he has the same interests as kids it seems 😅

"Hi," you replied immediately, looking from his mustache to the whistle around his neck and back up to his visor. "Are you seriously dressed as Ted Lasso?" "I always dress as Ted Lasso," he told you, and he was rewarded with a smile that made him want to follow you around the neighborhood like a lost puppy. 

Oh he 100% would

The kid nodded but said, "You need to call it a football." Bradley found himself agreeing. "You're completely right. It's only proper."

Come on Bradley, get into your role☝🏻

Your eyes were alert, scrutinizing his expression as you said, "His name is Max. He's almost ten." "He looks like you." You went silent for a few seconds, fiddling with the soccer ball in your hands. When you finally spoke, you were looking at Bradley's feet. "I knew you didn't know about him. I mean, you did ask me out after all." You laughed even though nothing was funny and finally looked up at his face. Then Max started to walk back the way you and he came, and you followed him. Bradley called your name. When you turned back, he said, "To be clear, I would have still asked you out if I'd known." And then you looked so sad again.

🥺🥲😭

"It's a spicy buffalo dip," you replied, smile growing. "I literally made it with chicken from a can. I'm pretty sure you could trick them into thinking it came from your kitchen. You can even take your tortilla chips, too."

She truly made it thinking about him 🥹

His fingers tightened on the handles when you took a small step closer to him. This was agony, being so close to you when he really wanted to touch you, but knew he couldn't. He whispered your name at the same time you looked up at him and started talking. "Max isn't my son. He's my nephew. But I'm his legal guardian now." Bradley's lips parted, but you shook your head and quickly added. "The night of the last potluck, I got a phone call that my brother and his wife were in a car accident. They both died before they reached the hospital. I had to pick Max up from soccer practice that night, and he's been with me ever since." Tears were welling up in your eyes as Bradley tried to shuffle your crock pot to one hand. He knew how badly this kind of thing hurt from his own childhood. "Shit. I'm really sorry the two of you are going through this. But Max is lucky he has you." When you nodded and shrugged, you looked resigned to the way things were. "I'm also pretty sure Max prefers it when you call it football. Not soccer."

😭😭😭

Almost a year later, Bradley was standing in his front yard, smiling at the SOLD sticker placed on a realty sign in front of your house. It made sense to have you and Max move into the white cottage with him, because the porch was bigger. It was the perfect size for an elaborate Halloween display.

It was over almost as quickly as it started, and Bradley was ready to drop to his knees and beg you for more. But you were rambling now, and he was trying his best to focus. "I wanted you to ask me out so badly. But then everything changed, and I had to tell you no. Max has a lot he still needs to process, and I don't really have time to date someone who just wants to mess around with me." For the first time in many weeks, Bradley felt lighter than air. He reached out with his free hand and let his knuckles trail gently along your cheek and down to your softly parted lips. "I'm forty years old. I'm kind of over the messing around stage," he promised. And then you were kissing him again.

Ahhhh this is perfect 😭🥰🥳🥹😍

I love it!! I feel like this is a role Bradley would thrive in, because of him loosing his parents young too, he would try the hardest and kinda knows what it can feel like or a person in a situation like that needs 🥹🫶🏻

California Autumn | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley was drawn to you the minute you moved onto his street. You seemed to bump into one another everywhere, and each time he saw your smile or heard your laugh, he knew he had to ask you out. He wasn't expecting the answer you gave him, just as you weren't expecting to wish he could be the man for you.

Warnings: angst, fluff, adult language, mentions of accident/death, guardianship of child

Length: 3500 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Check out my masterlist for more

Early September was brutal in southern California. Each day seemed hotter than the one before it, and even the smallest bit of yard work was enough to leave Bradley sweaty and miserable. He stood in the middle of his front yard, eyes closed, thinking about how beautiful autumn was in Virginia when he was a kid. He leaned against the handle of the rake, picturing a pumpkin patch, a corn maze and all the things he would never find in San Diego.

The sound of something bigger than a car coming down his quiet side street had him cracking his eyes open against the Saturday afternoon sun. A U-Haul lumbered to a stop in front of the house across the street and one door down. The engine settled to silence, and he craned his neck to get a better look. The property had been sitting there with a red and white SOLD sticker over the realty sign for what seemed like months, and now it would appear as though he finally had a new neighbor.

Bradley dropped the rake and had to lunge to grab the handle before it clattered against his stone pathway. The woman who climbed out of the truck, hopping down onto the street in some beat up sneakers, was beautiful. The sun seemed to illuminate her from the inside, and now Bradley was setting the rake down softly as she walked around the truck and slid the back open. It was filled with furniture and boxes, and he watched as an avalanche nearly flowed out as she tried to move one item.

"Shit," he grunted, running across the street as he wiped his dirty hands on the hem of his undershirt. "It looks like you could use a hand," he called out, hoping he wouldn't scare you when he came up behind you just in time to catch a dining chair that was teetering above your head. Then the neatly stacked boxes started to give out as well, and his left hand went to steady them.

You were ducking slightly, preparing for the worst when Bradley realized your back was pressed against his chest. If he moved, there would be a lot of broken furniture to contend with. But then you glanced at him over your shoulder as you stood to your full height, eyes wide and lips parted in surprise.

If you looked beautiful from across the street, then you looked stunning up close, trapped between his body and the truck. "Welcome to the neighborhood," he mumbled like an idiot, but he was rewarded by the smile that curled along your lips.

"Hey, you're pretty good at being neighborly," you replied, gesturing to his right hand holding the chair and his left securing the stack of boxes. His heartbeat quickened at the sound of your voice and how close you were as you told him your name and asked which house was his.

"I'm Bradley. The white cottage across the street." He nodded toward his mess of a front yard with his chin. "I moved in about six months ago." 

What he didn't mention was the fact that he often still felt like a bit of an outsider in town, even though he attended all the neighborhood potlucks and still had some blond in his hair from hanging out on the local beaches all summer. At the moment, all he could do was fight the urge to tell you how pretty your eyes were.

"And you like the neighborhood?" you asked, fully facing him now with a smirk on your face.

He shrugged the best he could without moving too much. "I might like it better now."

Your eyes widened a bit before you ducked your head, looking up at him with a surprised smile like you couldn't quite believe what he'd just said. And that's when Bradley heard another vehicle pull up behind him. "That would be my friends. Here to help me unpack."

He wanted to joke that it looked like you needed all the help you could get with your furniture avalanche, but he heard several voices calling your name and rushing over to help. He was invited to stay, but when he was finally able to safely back away without anything falling, he realized four other people were there to help you out.

Your eyes were still focused on his as he started to back away. "I'll see you around?" you asked before chewing on your lip.

"I would count on it," he confirmed, turning back toward his house so you could get settled into yours.

But he did hear one of your friends ask, "Who is he?"

"Bradley," you replied, just barely loud enough for him to hear. "From the white cottage."

--------------------------------

After that first encounter, he saw you everywhere. You were pulling into the parking spot next to his Bronco when he came out of the grocery store. When he asked how you liked your new house, it sparked a conversation about hardwood versus porcelain tile flooring, and Bradley's ice cream was completely melted by the time he got home.

Then there was the day you bumped into him coming out of the salon next to his barber, and he complimented your colorful nails at the same time you told him his haircut looked nice. He blushed, and you smiled before turning toward your car, glancing back at him a little expectantly. 

Then he ran into you at the farmer's market where you were buying vegetables for the upcoming neighborhood potluck. You asked him what he thought you should make.

"Well, I'm the wrong person to ask," he replied, feeling a little lightheaded as his brain begged him to ask you out on a date.

"Why's that?" you asked, placing your hand on your hip while you held up a head of cabbage. "You're a picky eater?"

He shook his head and took a step closer to you. "The exact opposite. I love food. I will eat literally anything that is edible."

Your bright laughter cascaded across his skin as your head tipped back. The expanse of your neck looked smooth and perfect, and Bradley wanted to have your permission to put his lips there. And that was a startling thought since nobody had really caught his attention like this since he was first stationed in San Diego. Nobody made him feel like he was at home in his house before you started waving to him whenever you saw him outside.

"I guess it makes sense that you love food," you told him with a smile. "You're a big boy." Your gaze drifted down along his shoulders and chest before you started to look a little embarrassed. "I... yeah... I think I'll just grab whatever looks good and take it from there. See you on Friday night?"

"Yeah," he grunted as you walked toward an eggplant display. He would see you on Friday night. And he would be prepared ahead of time to ask you out.

----------------------------

"No," you gasped. Bradley recognized your voice and turned around to face you in Mrs. Diaz's kitchen. "That's what you brought to the potluck?" You sounded appalled, but you were clearly smiling as you looked at what he was holding.

"I told you I liked to eat food, not that I knew how to cook anything."

"Bradley," you groaned, shaking your head at the bag of chips and jar of salsa in his hands. "This is bad. Next time, I'll prepare two dishes so you can pretend you made one."

His heart skipped a beat at the idea of handing you things in his kitchen and watching you make something as nice as the lasagna you were holding. "It's useless," he replied with a frown. "After six months of bringing restaurant style tortilla chips and medium salsa, nobody would believe I cooked anything."

Once again, your laughter had him ready to drop what he was holding and reach for you. He had to ask you out tonight. It had been weeks already since you moved in, and you were definitely giving him a green light. He could think of a dozen different restaurants he wanted to take you to, and maybe you'd like the artsy little movie theater.

But he watched you get swept up in conversation after conversation, and then the opportunity slipped away when you ducked away from everyone to answer a call. You had a concerned look on your face with your phone pressed to your cheek, and then you were rushing out of Mrs. Diaz's house and along her front path before you disappeared from view.

Suddenly it was well into October, and he'd barely seen you at all. There were a few mornings that felt cool enough to coax him to buy some pumpkins for his front porch. He thought about taking one over to your house as an excuse to finally ask you out, but he figured you must be pretty busy right now. Maybe work got a little crazy. He tried not to imagine that someone else had asked you out and that was the reason why you were so scarce.

"Damn," he grunted when he drove his Bronco past your house on his way to get some takeout for dinner on a Saturday night. He just couldn't stop thinking about you. Why didn't he ask you out that first day when he saved you from your dining chair? He ran his hand over his face and groaned, parking in front of the restaurant and yanking his keys from the ignition. If he'd just asked you out that day, maybe he'd be picking up twice as much food and sharing it with you tonight.

A minute later, when he turned to leave the restaurant with his bag, he could not believe his luck. You were walking inside. "Hey."

You glanced up, and for the briefest second, you smiled at him like you always used to. "Bradley." But then your smile started to fade away slowly, and he would do anything to bring it back.

His heart was pounding, and his brain was screaming at him, so he squared his shoulders and did the only thing he could do. "Hey, if you're free tomorrow night, I was thinking maybe you and I could get dinner? Or hit up the movie theater on Pomona? The seats are uncomfortable, but they show some indie stuff which could be fun. Or maybe another night might work?"

The air was silent except for the muffled sound of food being prepared in the kitchen behind him. Your eyes looked so sad as you shook your head and pressed your lips together. "No. No, I'm sorry, Bradley."

Well, fuck.

He backed away from you until he bumped into the wall, and then he focused on getting to the door. "Right," he replied after he had a few more feet between your body and his. "Well, I'll see you around the neighborhood."

For the first time since he moved to California, the air outside was too cold. There was an uncomfortable knot in his stomach as he glanced over at your car. He shivered miserably as he saw the shadow of someone waiting in your passenger seat. Then he drove home and ate alone in his kitchen before going to bed.

---------------------------------

Bradley tried his best not to think about you. One day last week, when he saw your front door swing open, he waited to step down from his porch so you wouldn't have to wave awkwardly to him. And yesterday, for lack of anything better to do, he bought more pumpkins, and he waited in his driveway to unload them until you carried all of your groceries inside your house. 

Today was Halloween, and he spent over an hour carving some of the pumpkins to look like soccer balls before dressing in his usual costume. Handing candy out to the neighborhood kids and trying to guess what they were dressed as sounded like fun. He was determined to have a good night, even if he did have to angle the folding chair on his porch so he was facing slightly away from your house. He would enjoy himself no matter what.

Bradley lit the candles inside his pumpkins and dropped down into the chair with a bowl of candy as the afternoon sky turned dusky. It didn't take long until a toddler dressed as a witch made an appearance with her dad, and Bradley had a good laugh when she reached for three pieces of candy.

"Trick or treat!" shouted three kids dressed as the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.

"Where's Raphael?" he asked as they collected their candy. 

Leonardo laughed and said, "Nobody wants to be Raphael. He's the lamest one."

"I would have to agree," Bradley replied, about to help himself to a piece of candy as they started to run to the next house.

But then he saw you. And you weren't alone. You were dressed as a soccer player, complete with knee socks and a soccer ball, and you were accompanied by an approximately ten year old kid who looked a lot like you. He was also dressed as a soccer player, and he smiled at Bradley as he said, "Trick or treat."

Bradley stood up, still holding onto the bowl of candy so the child could make his selection while he got a better look at you. "Hey."

"Hi," you replied immediately, looking from his mustache to the whistle around his neck and back up to his visor. "Are you seriously dressed as Ted Lasso?"

"I always dress as Ted Lasso," he told you, and he was rewarded with a smile that made him want to follow you around the neighborhood like a lost puppy. 

"Of course you do," you said, letting your gaze drift toward the child who was currently looking closely at the soccer ball pumpkins while holding onto a Snickers bar. "Somehow you match with us."

The boy looked up at Bradley and asked, "Did you carve these yourself? They look pretty good."

"Yeah," he replied, wishing he actually had taken the time to drop a pumpkin or two off on your porch. "I have perfected the soccer ball technique, kiddo."

The kid nodded but said, "You need to call it a football."

Bradley found himself agreeing. "You're completely right. It's only proper."

When the kid turned back to explore the rest of the pumpkin display a little more, Bradley took a step closer to you. "I didn't know you had a son," he said softly.

Your eyes were alert, scrutinizing his expression as you said, "His name is Max. He's almost ten."

"He looks like you."

You went silent for a few seconds, fiddling with the soccer ball in your hands. When you finally spoke, you were looking at Bradley's feet. "I knew you didn't know about him. I mean, you did ask me out after all." You laughed even though nothing was funny and finally looked up at his face. Then Max started to walk back the way you and he came, and you followed him. 

Bradley called your name. When you turned back, he said, "To be clear, I would have still asked you out if I'd known."

And then you looked so sad again.

------------------------------

To Bradley's amazement, the weather finally cooled to the perfect temperature in November, but he found he didn't want to be outside as much. It was a shame, because if he stood in the middle of his yard and closed his eyes, he could almost imagine he was in Virginia. 

One Friday after work, he cleaned the slightly rotten pumpkins from his porch and dragged his trash bin to the curb. Your front door was open, and he paused to see if you or Max happened to walk past it before heading back inside his empty house.

There was another potluck tonight, but he just didn't even feel like going. He had the usual chips and salsa on his kitchen counter, but he had no desire to socialize with the neighbors. He was about to change into gym shorts and surrender to a cold beer and a basketball game on TV when there was a knock on his door.

When he glanced through the front window, he saw that it was you, and his heart seemed to drag him toward the door. He was turning the knob before he thought better of it, and he was met with your wide eyes and a crock pot in your hands.

"Hi. Bradley."

"Hey." He swallowed hard before he said your name, and your lips turned up into a soft smile. "Is that for the potluck?"

"Yeah," you said, reaching out to hand the crock pot to him. "Well, I actually made it for you to take. Max and I will be bringing lasagna again."

Whatever Bradley was holding smelled so good, his stomach started to growl. "I can't take this. Nobody will believe I made it," he murmured, nudging at the lid with his thumb.

"It's a spicy buffalo dip," you replied, smile growing. "I literally made it with chicken from a can. I'm pretty sure you could trick them into thinking it came from your kitchen. You can even take your tortilla chips, too."

His fingers tightened on the handles when you took a small step closer to him. This was agony, being so close to you when he really wanted to touch you, but knew he couldn't. He whispered your name at the same time you looked up at him and started talking. 

"Max isn't my son. He's my nephew. But I'm his legal guardian now." Bradley's lips parted, but you shook your head and quickly added. "The night of the last potluck, I got a phone call that my brother and his wife were in a car accident. They both died before they reached the hospital. I had to pick Max up from soccer practice that night, and he's been with me ever since."

Tears were welling up in your eyes as Bradley tried to shuffle your crock pot to one hand. He knew how badly this kind of thing hurt from his own childhood. "Shit. I'm really sorry the two of you are going through this. But Max is lucky he has you." When you nodded and shrugged, you looked resigned to the way things were. "I'm also pretty sure Max prefers it when you call it football. Not soccer."

You laughed, maybe in spite of yourself, but Bradley still loved how it sounded. You briefly glanced over your shoulder toward your house and swiped at your tears as you said, "He absolutely does. He also keeps asking me about Ted Lasso across the street and his football pumpkins. I told him you're nice."

Bradley's heart had him dragging his feet closer to you, holding onto the warm pot of buffalo chicken dip for dear life. "Is that so?"

You nodded and stared at Bradley's chest for a few seconds before meeting his eyes again. Your lips parted several times before you whispered his name, and he leaned in a bit closer. After a few seconds, he started to step back, but your hand settled lightly on his shoulder, stopping him. Before he could react, you closed the remaining space, pressing your lips to his in a tentative kiss.

It was over almost as quickly as it started, and Bradley was ready to drop to his knees and beg you for more. But you were rambling now, and he was trying his best to focus. "I wanted you to ask me out so badly. But then everything changed, and I had to tell you no. Max has a lot he still needs to process, and I don't really have time to date someone who just wants to mess around with me."

For the first time in many weeks, Bradley felt lighter than air. He reached out with his free hand and let his knuckles trail gently along your cheek and down to your softly parted lips. "I'm forty years old. I'm kind of over the messing around stage," he promised. And then you were kissing him again.

The three of you walked to Mrs. Diaz's house together that evening. Bradley carried the crock pot, you carried the lasagna, and Max carried the tortilla chips. The conversation was mainly focused on how badly Max wanted to learn how to carve a football pumpkin.

Almost a year later, Bradley was standing in his front yard, smiling at the SOLD sticker placed on a realty sign in front of your house. It made sense to have you and Max move into the white cottage with him, because the porch was bigger. It was the perfect size for an elaborate Halloween display.

----------------------------------

Thanks for reading this angsty yet fuzzy little fic. I hope your Halloween is sweeter than Bradley Bradshaw. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls and @thedroneranger

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[bfictioncorner]

Playing House

Media: Halloween Ends (2022)

Characters: Corey Cunningham (pre-2019 accident) x female reader 

Rating: R or 18+ BECAUSE NO MINORS! Duh, get outta here if you’re not an adult!

CW: Submissive!Corey, Dom!Reader, mommy kink, implied lactation fetish (yeah oops), general mention of mommy issues, hair pulling, handjobs, cunnilingus, lots of general rough play and mean mean teasing... I’m so bad at CW’s...

Notes: I only read through this 2.5 times so if there are mistakes or general bad wording, I apologize. Other than that, y’all keep telling me what you like!

Tagging @nachtmahr666 dunno if this is your speed but here ya go!

It was rare to get to spend time with Corey. You only ever spotted him around town, most often biking to the park to work on internship applications and the like in peace. Outside of that, he seemed to have a short leash from his mother’s house. Nonetheless, anytime he popped up, his sweet but nerdy visage made you get hot. The way his nose crinkled under his heavy glasses, the way chewed on his nails with his head down, the way he always messed with his fluffy hair to get it to stay to the side… You wanted to nibble on him. No, eat him up.

“That’s a face for stepping on or sittin’ on,” you sometimes crassly joked to your friends. They rolled their eyes, not quite getting the appeal. Despite the jokes, you danced around the idea of even flirting with him, never quite acting on your desires.

The far and few moments you got to take him in was when the kids you both babysat had sleepovers. It was unnecessary to have two sitters at the same time, but the kids preferred the extra company, and the parents agreed two made the job easier.

Charlotte, the ten-year-old you looked after—who said you were “cooler than her sixth grade friends”—had offhandedly mentioned, one afternoon, that Elizabeth was staying over Friday night and that “Corey had to come too”.

Corey huh? Your brows perked up. Your thoughts drifted to the skittish, doe-eyed nerd who constantly pushed his glasses up his nose, had Yoo-Hoo bottles sticking out of his backpack, and could spew random information about spacecrafts unprompted. You felt so dumb and silly that reminders of him like those got you excited.

“I think he’s kind of a geek,” Charlotte rattled on, “All he does is read books about computers or whatever. But Elizabeth said he’s nice and lets her stay up late to watch PG-13 movies. So I guess he’s okay.”

You smiled at that, suddenly a bit more interested in working Friday night.

——

Corey hadn’t biked over like he usually did to most places. His mother had dropped him off at the house you two were sitting at, no doubt wanting to make sure things “looked safe”. You saw her face in the shadows of the car as he made his way up the front steps. It was unclear if she was looking at you directly, but you could feel her judging sneer. There was no trust for any other person with her son, but that went doubly for young women.

Moving from the front window where you had been peeping, you scurried to the door, eager to get there before Charlotte or her parents. Without meaning to, you pulled the door open before Corey had a chance to knock, resulting in him getting startled and stumbling back.

“Ah! Oh hey,” he spoke after composing himself. You smirked at how he straightened out his glasses.

“Hi,” you greeted in an overly sweet tone.

“Ready for an exciting night?” he commented with a sarcastic chuckle. The comment was a bit tone deaf, as he had just no idea how exciting you hoped it would be.

——

“Well… the kids are already asleep, which didn’t take much. Not too much else to do.” You grinned, wicked and flirtatious.

The girls had retired early to the bedroom upstairs. They may have realistically been up still, gossiping or reading diary excerpts or something silly. But it was no matter. They were busy with their own things and probably more than happy to be left alone… as were you.

“I could still make some popcorn,” Corey shrugged with a sheepish expression. That was the exact reaction you expected from him.

“I mean… I could still play babysitter,” you went on, laying the playful innocence on thick. “Come on, Corey, we can play house.” You lowered your lids, shooting a hot glance at him. “I can babysit you.”

“Haha, what… what’s that supposed to mean?” There was an awkward nervousness in his voice.

The space between the two of you closed as you extended your arms towards him. You cupped his cheeks and squeezed, mimicking the way one would admire a precious little animal. Behind his thick rimmed glasses, Corey did indeed have big, dark puppy-dog eyes, and at this moment, they seemed chipper but confused.

“Well, I have to get this thing—this paper—done,” he bumbled, “so we can turn on a movie while I do that… And…”

You shook your head, your lips curling up devilishly. You were gonna bite the bullet this time and go for it. “No, we’re not going to do that.” You shook your head. You noticed how flushed he was becoming.

“Um… What…”

You cut off his trailing words by lunging towards him, pinning him under your sprawled legs. Reaching both hands down on his wrists, you clamped him onto the couch. His eyes widened, and you could swear his glasses were fogging up ever so slightly. Under your skirt, hiding the intimacy of your crotch over his, your actions were validated by a growing bulge pressing against your tender spots.

“Heh, what’re you doing?” he tried to play off his awkwardness with a laugh.

“What are you doing?” you replied, emphasizing your point by grinding into his hardness.

He tried pushing you off gently to get up. “Stop kidding around.” He swung his legs off the side of the couch as you slid off his lap, much to your dismay. But you weren’t giving up.

“I’m not kidding, little boy.” With both hands, you gave him a solid push to the floor. You looked around quickly to make sure it didn’t alert the girls.

His face at first expressed protest and indignation, but he narrowed his eyes, glaring over his frames. Slowly, he bit his lip, taking in the situation. You noted that he was still visibly hard—more so than initially.

“Do you want to have fun?” you asked sweetly. “Are you going to be good?” You walked towards him cautiously and pressed your shoe to his neck. To your surprise, he tilted his head back, welcoming the rough touch.

“Yes… mommy…” The last word was embarrassingly mumbled, hushed. You felt how he swallowed tensely, the subtle movement in his throat tight under the sole of your shoe.

“What was that?” you snipped, sharp but still with a slight teasing laugh. It was partially a mask, though. The truth was, the surprising response turned you on instantly. This was interesting…

“Yes mommy,”Corey breathed out, dragging out his words with both intention and shame.

That did it. In a swift motion, you removed your foot from his throat and grabbed at the hair on the crown of his head.

“Call me that again,” you instructed.

“Mommy,” he muttered, face becoming rosier. Pulling against your grasp, he craned his head towards your chest, first exploring a bit of bare skin with his tongue… then raking teeth along the upper curve of your breast.

You clawed at his brown hair again, bringing him to face you. “What are you doing?” You did your best to keep a stern, domineering air.

“I… I want a taste…” His voice slanted into somewhat of a whine, desperate, ashamed, and aroused. His hesitant hands drifted to feel up your breasts. You did want to feel those sharp little teeth on your skin, tickling and stinging, with intermittent brushes from those lips. It wound you up how animal-like his pointed teeth were, always contrasting his sweet, wide smile. He had the grin of a wolf, and the demeanor of a pup.

“You wait,” you warned, temporarily releasing his tufts of hair. There was no graceful way to expose your chest, so you rolled your shirt and bra up to your clavicle. Once in position, your hand clamped the back of Corey’s head and pressed his face into your bosom.

With ferocity, he nipped and sucked on your soft flesh, letting his tongue run messy, wet circles around your nipples. You never could have imagined such lust-driven, feral behavior from him.

It struck you (at a rather weird moment) that this must have intermingled with Corey’s complicated issues with his mother. And maybe also his affinity for drinking milk. But that was a lot to unpack, possibly for later. If you even cared to revisit the thought at all. It all felt too good, too nasty to care.

“I just wanna drag you around and keep you on your knees,” you grunted, letting your near-incoherent, secret musings float to the surface. Part of you wanted to laugh a little. While he wasn’t a particularly tall guy, he was still bigger than you. The visual of leading him around was a bit silly but it also sent a small twinge deep within you.

At the words, Corey moved to face you, slipping down from your breasts, sliding his hands down to your thighs. Roughly, you pushed him further down, until he was kneeling before you. His eyes peered up at you deliciously through a few loose strands. The usually combed hair had become tussled, letting some of his natural curls come free.

“Am I being good?” he asked, voice somehow soft but deep at the same time.

You responded with yet another tug on his fluffy hair. This time, you could see him wincing harder, brows raising in pain, eyes watering. “Good boys do what they’re told,” you went on. “Will you do what Mommy says?”

He nodded, a tear escaping off one of his fluttering lashes. The tears weren’t uncomfortable—you wanted to make sure it wasn’t going too far. No, the dimples framing his mouth lengthened in a deviant, pleased smile. There was a mix of emotions in the expression, but desire and relief were definitely a couple.

You let him go, as he sat back onto his heels, still facing your lap. As you pulled his glasses off and flung them aside, you lowered yourself to the couch, opening your lap to him. Immediately, he reached a hand forward, fixing to pull back the hem of your panties, but you slapped him away.

“You wait,” you chastised again. His expression turned to a bratty pout in response. There were those dewy eyes peering out from under heavy lids.

In an intentionally slow performance, you slid the simple black panties off, giving a final kick of the fabric past Corey’s shoulder. “Is this what you want?”

He nodded patiently.

“Then you have to ask like a good boy,” you told him, in a serious, hushed tone. You all were already doing the best to be quiet, but you dropped your instructions just below a whisper. To be extra cheeky, extra teasing, you traced your fingers from his forehead, to his cheek, to his lips.

He melted into the sensation, but being mindful enough to straighten up and keep his hands behind his back while kneeling. “Please?” he breathed out, eyes closed.

The response came in you gripping his chin and pulling him towards your open legs. Corey hesitantly tested the waters, approaching slowly first with his tongue. He went through the motion like he was taking his first lick off an ice cream cone. His tongue smoothed between your folds and worked up, slipping up and around your clit. The rhythm and pressure were just right, almost as if he was trying to match every throb. He began to switch up sensations, plunging that tongue deep within, lapping up your wetness. What had almost instantly done you in was when he went to suck directly on your rosy little clit, teeth grazing, full lips enveloping, the works. That was your weakness. Your thighs involuntarily tightened around his face.

It wasn’t supposed to happen so soon, but you were overtaken by the power and overstimulation. You caught yourself panting hard, clawing into Corey’s hair again, needing something to grab onto.

Finally, your heartbeat had started to settle, but your breathing was still hard. Corey emerged from your thighs, pink lips glossy with your wetness. His eyes looked up, needy. Fatigue had thwarted your ability to speak, but you moved to take charge once more. Sliding from the couch, you pushed him back against the floor, settling atop his lap this time, hands acting fast to undo his pants. The process was hurried, both from the need for instant, animal release, but also because he had already wet his pants with precum. Once his length was exposed, you placed a firm grip around the tender skin, matching your strokes to his desperate thrusting. Poor Corey was so hungry for the release that he began to whine and grunt. Hot tears trickled down the sides of his temples, dotting the carpet beside him.

“Shhh,” you hushed, half-forcefully and half-dotingly. You cupped your free hand over his mouth to keep him quiet. He looked so weak, so pathetic under the dominance of your hands. But he wanted every touch, and he would give in to your every demand for the pleasure.

His back arched against the floor, thrashing into orgasm. Hot streams trickled over your hand and onto his own sweat-slicked skin, spilling over his hip bones and into his navel. Once you had lifted your hand from his mouth, his gasping sounded more intense. All he could do was stare up at you, dazed.

Keeping up the act, at least for one more minute, you offered a small smile, wiping your hand on his pants. “You should clean yourself up,” you suggested, as you got up to leave the room. You intended to freshen up yourself and return as if nothing weird had happened at all.

Looking over your shoulder before exiting, you could see an exhausted Corey bite his lip.

“Are we… gonna play house again next weekend?” he questioned with a bashful smile.

“Only if you’re good,” you replied.

[dyns33]

Flufftober 3 - Vaas

Vaas x Reader

           "Do you celebrate Halloween on your island ?"

Vaas stopped hitting the tree he had bumped into because he wasn't looking where he was going to turn to Y/N and stare at her for a long time, as if trying to guess if she was seriously asking him that question.

Y/N stared back without saying anything either, to show him that she was waiting for an answer.

           "Nena. Don't you feel like it's Halloween all year around here ? If we wanted to be original, we'd dress up like normal guys, with suits and ties and little briefcases, we'd pretend to be working on a small computer and going to bed at nine early after drinking a single beer."

           "Is that how you see 'normal' guys ?"

           "That's how I see assholes and fools. Look, we don't have time to celebrate a ridiculous party that comes from a fucking capitalist and colonialist country, based on a tradition that is not ours and that is now all about eating sugary shit and pretending to be scared for fun. I don't scare people for fun, I scare people so they are scared of me, even if it's a little funny... I want to celebrate Halloween."

Vaas dropped the axe he was holding and was going to use to chop down the tree, before heading to his cabin to lock himself in.

All the pirates who had heard the conversation turned to Y/N, looking furious. Of course, none of them would dare to insult her or hurt her, their boss would kill them. And they knew she hadn't done it on purpose.

But now Vaas had decided to celebrate Halloween, or at least the scary part of it, not just to get candy or something else, probably coke, booze or cigars, and they expected the worst about the jokes and other terrifying surprises he was going to prepare for them.

Understanding the seriousness of the situation, Y/N quickly got up to join the pirate.

           "We can also do something simple. A little party, with funny costumes, then we'll watch horror movies."

           "No, nena. I want to have real fun."

           "We will have real fun."

           "I want to see Carlos shit himself and scream in terror."

           "It won't happen, Carlos isn't afraid of anything. He's weird. Listen to me." she said, approaching him sensually, caressing his chest. "You, disguised as a pirate. Me, as a mermaid. Almost naked. Eating strawberries with lots of whipped cream, which would fall on my skin. Sitting on your knees, trembling with fear because of a horror movie, waiting for you to reassure me with your hands, your mouth..."

           "... I'm listening."

           "I can also be your nurse. A lost explorer, captured by you. A succubus, or an angel ready to be corrupted by the pirate King."

           "Hmm." he purred, shaking his head. "But I won't have the right to scare Carlos and the others ?"

           "You said it yourself, you already scare them all year. They fear you and they respect you. We could stay quietly in our cabin, just to celebrate Halloween together, while they rest a bit for a while."

For a few moments, Vaas seemed to consider the proposition, scratching his head with his gun. Then he decreed that he needed to think about it, so he didn't give an answer.

It wasn't really a good sign.

Y/N guessed that he would find a way to prank, while convincing her to dress up, whether it was Halloween or the rest of the year.

She therefore sought a solution to protect the pirates.

The day arrived, and when Vaas came out of his cabin, everyone stood ready, not knowing what he had prepared.

But as he smiled terrifyingly as he walked around the camp, watching his men with shining eyes as if they were preys, he stopped when he saw Y/N hopping towards him.

Her hair was weird, she had decided on a line on her forehead, makeup around her eyes, and her clothes were familiar. She greeted him in Spanish.

           "...What are you doing, cariño ?"

           "Isn't it obvious ? I mean, fucking obvious ? I'm you. I'm a bit crazy, moderately funny, and so I play unpredictable but harmless pranks on my men."

           "... You're a gay me then."

           "Rude. I mean, fucking rude !"

           "Yeah, I know. There was a gay man in my village when I was young, a real vicious bitch. Anyway. You're pretty cute with your little red t-shirt and your fake scar."

           "... You think you're sexy ?"

           "I think I'm awfully hot, but I think you're even sexier dressed up as me. You're adorable, walking around the camp yelling words in Spanish and thinking my men are scared of you. They're jumping to please you, because they also find you adorable. A kitten who thinks it's a tiger."

           "I'm not a little kitten, hermano !" Y/N shouted then, trying to sound serious. "You're the kitten ! I'm the Master of this island, I do what I want, and I'm going to trick my men instead of having a good time with mi querida ! Fuck !"

She then ran around the camp pretending to shoot people.

Vaas looked at her for a long time, then he turned to Carlos and the other pirates, who were also looking at him, waiting to know if he was going to follow his lover or if he was going to do to them what he had planned.

He sighed, rolled his eyes, and went to grab Y/N back to his cabin, where they would eat sugar-covered fruit while watching Twilight.

           "... Twilight is not a horror movie." noted Y/N.

           "I've read the reviews online, it's one of the most horrifying movies out there. We're also going to watch The Room and Dragon Ball Evolution. Truly terrifying."

They laughed for hours, until Y/N fell asleep in his arms.

So Vaas slipped out of his cabin unseen by his men, and he scared them several times until they were all hidden in the jungle, watching him from afar as he prowled among the trees.

His men were scared, but Carlos didn't shit his pants nor scream, so Vaas was not pleased. He only stopped when Y/N called for him and he accepted to go back to bed with her.

The pirates still stayed in the jungle all night long, just in case.

[free-pool-trash]

dancing with our hands tied - peter maximoff

here it is you guys... the ✨very spicy✨ sequel to delicate which can be read here <3 (had to keep the rep song title theme going here)

please for the love of god let me know how this is I’ve never written smut before so please go crazy with the asks/comments/reblogs on this one I’d really appreciate it😩😓

word count: 4k 😳 (it’s not all smut dont get too excited)

warnings: +18 content, sexy times, unprotected wrap it before you tap it, swearing, i tried to keep vulgarity on a low level but i decided to just commit towards the end lmao, insinuation to sex from the beginning , some fluff and a tiny bit of angst sprinkled in there too, wandavision spoilers

You can definitely read this as a stand alone but it’ll make more sense if you read delicate first !! enjoy <3

masterlist

The days you spent in WestView had been tiring. Wanda seemed to be losing her composure with each day that passed, you watched how she became more and more skeptical of Peter and found yourself growing all the more anxious with the situation you’d run head first into. But, you were with Peter, your mind and his mind were free of Wanda’s influence and she’d been kind enough to appoint the pair of you your own house in the neighbourhood, a few doors down from her own, so, you couldn’t complain too much.

Today was a relatively quiet day, but you had a feeling that just meant you were in the calm before the storm. Tonight was, apparently, Halloween. Despite the fact that it was nowhere near October, you were more than happy to play along with Wanda’s over the top festivities.

Peter and Tommy had just zoomed into your and Peter’s bedroom, sporting matching outfits and excited expressions as they looked at you expectantly, “Well? What’d ya think?” Peter asked, motioning between himself and Tommy. The littlest speedster awaited your answer with wide, hopeful eyes, wanting validation from his cool uncle’s even cooler ‘friend’.

Yeah, you’d made out on Wanda’s couch but you still hadn’t addressed the question of where exactly your relationship stood. It felt as though the pair of you were both actively avoiding the awkward conversation, opting instead to simply fall into bed together every single night and completely disregard the boundaries of friendship in favour of hearing each other moaning until the early hours of the morning.

With a smile you let out a low whistle, “Looking good boys. I gotta say, Tommy, I think you’re outshining your uncle right now.”

You had to laugh when Tommy smirked triumphantly at Peter, “I told you she liked me more than you.” He boasted proudly and your laughs grew louder when Peter huffed angrily. He crossed his arms over his chest and jutted his bottom lip out childishly.

“Y/n, tell him you like me more.” Peter demanded, again, childishly.

You only grinned, “No comment.” You told him airily, making your way to your closet and hesitantly pulling out the latex costume Wanda created for you off of the rail, holding it by the hanger skeptically.

It was Peter’s turn to let out a whistle when his eyes scanned the skimpy looking leotard suspended by the hanger. The fabric mimicked the design of Peter and Tommy’s outfits although it seemed Wanda had gone out of her way to make yours ever so slightly sexier. The leotard was strapless with a sweetheart neckline and a silver lightning bolt ran through the light blue material. The only saving grace was the silver tights that hung from the hanger as well, at least you’d have some kind coverage. With one last peek into the closet, your eyes landed on a pair of white, knee high gogo boots.

“Christ…” You muttered, eyebrows furrowing at the thought of wearing the ensemble out in public, if it was cold tonight Wanda would be in for an aggressive telling off. With a deep sigh you turned to the two speedsters who were both staring at you, waiting for you to say something. “I guess we’re all gonna be matching tonight.”

“Sweet!” Tommy exclaimed while Peter only smirked. Peter, with a lot of effort, moved his attention from your costume to his nephew.

“Why don’t you go hang out with your brother for a while? I gotta talk to Y/n for a sec.” Tommy welcomed the suggestion, only nodding his head before he had sped out of your house and back to his own.

A gust of wind hit your face as Peter sped himself in front of you, the man didn’t hide his intentions as he gripped your hips and pulled you flush against him. Swaying his body against yours and bringing his lips to the exposed skin of your neck. He trailed his lips up your neck, sucking and nipping, smirking when you let out small noises of approval. When his lips reached the spot behind your ear, he gave a final, harsh suck which had your breath hitching and whining when he pulled away.

To be honest, you’d love to be able to call him your boyfriend and be certain that he thought of you as his girlfriend, but at the moment you were perfectly happy with whatever the fuck the two of you had going on if it meant you could keep feeling him against you like this.

“I cannot wait to see you wearing that.” He all but groaned against your ear, his voice deep and gravelly. The butterflies in your stomach went feral at his words and you had to pull your bottom lip between your teeth to keep from letting out a moan from his tone of voice alone, not to mention the fact that his crotch was pressed up against yours, he was excited to say the least.

Your hands slid up his chest and settled on either side of Peter’s neck, you gently pulled his head out from the crook of your nape and teasingly raised an eyebrow at him, “Maybe later I’ll let you help me get out of it.”

A wicked grin spread across his lips, he squeezed your hips in response, tugging you into him even further for some kind of relief then pressed his lips to yours briefly, murmuring against them, “That’s definitely a plan I can get behind.”

Giving him one last kiss, you pried his hands from your hips and pushed him away, “Alright, get lost I need to get ready.”

“Meet me at Wanda’s?” You nodded at his question, letting out a deep sigh you hadn’t noticed you’d been holding when he finally sped out of the room.

After a second of cooling down, you pulled on the outfit and you’d be the first to admit; Wanda knew what she was doing with this one. You looked incredible, albeit a little stupid in the costume, but still incredible.

When you made your way over to Wanda’s to meet up with the others, you let out a laugh seeing as Wanda was essentially wearing the same outfit as you, only with the added extras of a cape and gloves.

“Hey! Why are you dressed the same as Uncle P and Tommy?” Billy asked you curiously, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he glanced between you and Peter for answers. The speedster in question was smirking proudly, his arm finding a spot wrapped around your shoulder.

“Because she’s totally obsessed with me.” He lied with an over dramatic sigh, causing Tommy to laugh.

You rolled your eyes, elbowing him in the ribs playfully before focusing your attention onto Wanda, “I think it’s safe to say that Wanda and I will be winning best couples costume.” Wanda gave you a knowing grin and a not at all subtle wink in response to your statement.

“Only the best for the best.” She replied, walking forward and linking her arm with yours, stealing you away from Peter who whined in protest, “Oh hush, you can have her back later.”

Telepathy definitely had its perks, one of those perks being you could tell there was more to Wanda than just being an evil puppeteer. The two of you got along extremely well, you were actually growing to see her as a friend. It helped that you knew her story, though. You sympathised with her, knowing full well that if you lost the love of your life you’d probably create a false reality to be with him too. You’d already followed him into a fake reality so you supposed it wasn’t really too much of a stretch to imagine yourself in Wanda’s position.

As the night went on, yourself, Wanda and Peter were sitting around in town square, the twins having run off somewhere. Tensions were high between the interreality siblings at the minute, Peter seemed to be having the time of his life getting on Wanda’s last nerve, poking and prodding at her lifestyle choices.

“Lay off, Pete.” You warned quietly, your stare serious as you felt Wanda becoming impatient with the mutant. Your breathing stopped for a moment and you let put a horrified gasp, your hand clapped over your mouth as you stared at the image in front of you.

Peter’s skin was grey, his eyes were milky and he was littered in what you could only assume to be bullet holes- he was dead- no, you realised as you caught Wanda’s pained expression, he was Pietro.

Wanda regained her composure after a few seconds but the sight of Peter dead was enough to shake you to your very core and you found yourself shaking where you stood.

You didn’t even have a chance to regain your composure before shit had hit the fan. It had happened in a blur, Billy and Tommy were frantic and worried about Vision being in trouble and next thing you knew Wanda was sending Peter flying with a ball of energy after he made a smartass comment about Vision not dying twice.

Quickly, you ran to Peter’s side, he was groaning in pain and looking up at you through squinted eyes, “What the hell was that all about?” He grumbled, hiding his head in your lap when you got down on your knees beside him.

With a sigh you let your body fold against his, wrapping your arms around him and letting your head rest against his shoulder, the image of him bleeding out still too fresh and real in your mind. You could berate him for his brash behaviour another time, for now though; you just needed him close.

“Come on, dumbass. Let’s get you home before you decide to cause more trouble.” You mumbled, pulling him up with you. Ignoring his whining while you led him home, your arm remained firmly around his waist the whole way despite the fact he’d recovered from the blast Wanda dealt him after only a few minutes.

When you got back to the house that Wanda had deemed yours upon your arrival, you finally allowed yourself to breathe. Peter was staring at you with a guilty expression as you released a heavy breath through your nose and shuffled into the kitchen, the heels of your boots scraping on the hardwood as you walked.

Like a lost puppy, Peter followed you. Once he reached you lent against the sink he wrapped his arms around you from behind. He knew you weren’t angry at him by the way your arms immediately moved to grip his and tug them tighter around you.

“You know, her real twin- Pietro… he died,” Peter’s face contorted in confusion when you began to speak, he listened with concern as he could already hear your voice beginning to shake, absentmindedly he caught himself tucking you closer against his chest. “For a second… you must have said something that hit a nerve but for a few seconds…” Your voice hitched and you shook your head in an attempt to knock the image out of your mind, though you had a feeling it would haunt you for as long as you lived. When Peter noticed you’d started chewing at your bottom lip, as you always did when something was causing you anxiety, he gently turned you around in his arms so that he could look at you, his arms remaining firmly around you, yours finding a place resting against his chest.

“What happened, sweetheart?” He cooed, his eyes very much alive and staring into yours.

Swallowing thickly you answered, “You looked like him. You were dead.” You told him quietly and he was sure the look of grief on your face, brought on by the thought of him dying, would haunt him for a lifetime.

Your eyes watered as you took in his face. Scanning every part of it, his brown eyes that made you melt, the dimples that could still be faintly seen even when he wasn’t smiling, the lips that took up the vast majority of your thoughts and that tiny furrow between his brows as he looked down at you with worry.

You loved him.

Of course, you’d known this for years. But you needed him to know, and even though you were already well aware the overwhelming feeling is mutual, you needed to hear him say it.

His thumb running under your eye pulled you from your thoughts, “I’m not going anywhere, baby.” He whispered softly, his hand cupping your cheek as his thumb ran back and forth over your cheek bone. Your stomach flipped at the pet name and you nuzzled against his touch.

“Good. I don’t want to lose you ever again.” You confessed, looking up at him through your lashes fondly as his lips formed an almost sad smile.

Gently, he brought his lips down to meet yours, pouring his heart into the kiss, hoping it would make up for the turmoil he felt responsible for causing you. Too soon, he pulled away.

“Believe me, I’m never leaving your side. I mean come on, I’m without you for like three days and I end up being mind controlled by my sister who isn’t even my sister.” He chuckled out, a grin growing on his face as you began to smile too. He let his eyes close blissfully when you brushed your nose against his, a toothy smile on your face.

“You, Peter Maximoff, are completely hopeless.” You whispered through your smile as he opened his eyes to look at you. His own face sporting an adoring smile.

Your heart skipped a beat the second his next words passed through his smiling lips, “Without you, Y/n L/n, yes I am.” Within a second your arms were around his shoulders and your lips were moving frantically against his. Peter’s hands wasted no time in sliding down to your thighs, gripping them and propping you up onto the kitchen counter.

Your legs automatically wrapped around his waist and your hands got lost in his hair, keeping him as close as humanly possible while his lips migrated to your jaw.

An appreciative hum left your throat as he lapped at the underside of your jaw, leaving a mark before trailing his lips back to your mouth. His tongue licked at your bottom lip as he kissed you, moving it into your mouth the first chance he got. Peter moaned into your mouth when you gave his tongue a light suck.

You grinned at the sound and leaned your weight forward so you were primarily resting against his body, your arms and legs wrapped tightly around his body, your ass barely resting on the counter by that point. Welcoming your movements, Peter’s hands glided up from your thighs to grip your ass and pull you from the counter completely.

He carried you clumsily through the halls of the house, bumping into furniture and pausing to press your body against walls, his eyes closed and lips never separating from yours. You were about a foot away from the stairs when you felt your back make contact with the plaster behind you, your chest heaving when Peter abandoned your lips in favour of littering wet kisses across your chest, no doubt leaving a trail of hickeys in his wake.

You let your head fall back against the wall, enjoying the sensation of Peter nipping and licking at your skin, the man diving back to your neck as soon as he realised that your head thrown back made it entirely exposed to him. You released a breathy moan when his lips ghosted over a sensitive patch of skin, he moved his tongue frantically and you shuddered at the feeling of his hot breath hitting your bruised skin.

“Peter…” You whined when he pushed his crotch up against yours, pressing you further into the wall smirking against your neck when you called his name.

“Yes?” He asked teasingly, rutting his hips against yours once more, deliberately attempting to pull another moan from you, he obviously succeeded. His smirk broadened when you let out a huff and tugged his hair so he’d look at you.

Peter swore he was in heaven when his eyes met yours again, your face was red and your eyes were half-lidded, pupils blown wide with lust as your chest heaved. He could’ve exploded on the spot when you tugged your bottom lip between your teeth and looked at him innocently, all the while grinding your hips slowly and firmly against his. Peter clenched his jaw and let his eyes fall shut, his hands gripping your hips so tightly that you were pretty certain the area would have bruises come tomorrow. You were struggling to care about that though, focusing your energy on the man who had you pinned against the wall.

You brought your lips to Peter’s neck, repaying the favour, not detaching until you left a dark, albeit small, purple bruise on the underside of his jaw. Deciding to prolong the teasing for a little while longer you moved your lips up and let them hover by his ear and you began to let out soft little moans in response to his grinding, the action caused Peter’s movements to become more frantic and your lips to form in a smirk as you felt him hardening against you.

His breath was laboured when he murmured, “Let’s take this upstairs, yeah?” Before you could even answer he had sped the pair of you to the bedroom and you let your feet return to the floor.

As he stood in front of you, you took him in, swollen lips and Halloween hair completely tossed, not to mention the tent in his trousers that was very visible despite the layers of his costume. When your bodies collided again, it was a frenzy of hands, the both of you practically tearing the fabric off the other until you were in nothing but your underwear, kissing sloppily and stumbling towards the bed.

Peter’s lips attached to your chest again the second your back hit the mattress. He groped at your right breast while his tongue sucked on the other, swapping over before you pulled him back up to you.

The way he slotted between your legs and how his forehead rested on yours felt so perfect, you couldn’t help but grin.

“You’re gorgeous, sweetheart.” He muttered between kisses against your lips, his hands kneading your breasts as he did.

You were practically dripping by the time his hand slid down your stomach and under the band of your underwear. For someone with super speed he was moving agonisingly slow at the moment, his hand rubbing languidly over your wet core while he swallowed your moans.

“Fuck- God, Peter please.” You whined, your hips bucking into his hand, desperate for more friction than he was giving you.

The sound of your voice, so needy for him, was all he needed before he was pulling your underwear off, tossing the thin material over his shoulder haphazardly and shimmying out of his own boxers, clumsily kicking them away from his ankles, earning a giggle from you.

When he kneeled on the bed between your bent and separated knees you sat yourself up, sliding one hand up his bare chest and resting it against his shoulder while the other slid downward, only stopping once it was wrapped around his shaft. Peter sucked in a harsh breath when your began pumping him softly, the man completely losing it when your thumb swiped over his tip collecting the precum that had gathered and using it to wet the length of his dick as you continued to fuck him with your hand.

As much as Peter was loving the image and feeling of you jacking him off, he knew if you carried on he wouldn’t be able to last much longer. Still, he didn’t have the heart to pull your hand away when you were making him feel so good. His head found it’s favourite spot in the crook of your neck and he groaned out against the skin that was littered with little purple and red marks from his earlier work, which he’d be sure to admire later, “Shit, Y/n-“ He croaked through a moan, hands gripping your hips as he fought the urge he had to thrust into your hand, “M’not gonna last much longer if you keep doing that.” He groaned out, almost reluctantly, not truly wanting you to stop while simultaneously craving more.

You stopped your motions at his statement, giggling when he let out a strangled noise of disappointment at the sudden lack of pleasure. Doing the honours, you lined him up with your entrance, letting him take over when his lips connected with yours.

Peter gently pushed you back until your head was resting against your pillow and your back was flush with the mattress. His lips continued to mesh with yours as he pushed into you inch by inch until he bottomed out. The deep groan he released was music to your ears and your hands gripped his biceps when he began to thrust in and out.

A symphony of moans filled the room as Peter had managed to set a steady pace, trying his best not to let his mutation get the best of him, as much as he wanted to just go to town he was determined to make you feel as good as you made him feel and judging by the way your head was thrown back and his name fell from your lips like a prayer; he guessed he was doing an okay job.

In only a few minutes Peter had you gasping and clutching onto him like your life depended on it as he picked up speed, one of his hands reaching down between your bodies to rub your clit, his hips snapping against yours. Soon enough, you felt the pressure in your stomach release, your walls clenching around Peter’s dick as your back arched and you released around him. After only a few more staggered strokes, Peter moaned your name against your lips, finishing inside of you and thrusting lazily, riding out his high and subsequently helping you ride out yours.

You let out a blissful sigh when Peter pulled out and rolled over to lay on his back beside you, his chest heavy and his blonde hair sticking slightly against his forehead.

“That- that was awesome.” He mumbled, intertwining his fingers with yours, holding your hand by his side.

Over the last couple of nights you and Peter had, admittedly, ended up in a similar position but neither of you intended for it to happen. It’d usually start off innocently enough, with cuddling or just talking and then one of you would move in just that little bit closer and things would escalate. But there was something about this time that felt a lot more emotional than the few times before. “It was.” You agreed with an airy giggle, squeezing his hand affectionately.

A gust of air shook you from your haze. Peter had taken it upon himself to clean up the mess the pair of you had left between your legs, a pair of his boxers and one of his t-shirts now adorned your body matching him as he wore the same.

He was on his side facing you, his arms holding you against his chest securely the same way they had the night you’d shown up in WestView and urged him to kiss you. When he took you in, he kicked himself for missing out on so much of you for so long.

He was certain, one of these days he’d actually speak the three words that followed him around whenever he thought about you, but as he watched your eyes flutter closed, he decided the words would be best spoken some other time. He was well aware you already knew, just as he was well aware that you loved him, it needed to be said. Eventually, but not quite yet.

[curseofaphrodite]

i love the halloween prompt list!!💞💞💞

prompt 9 with draco malfoy?? if you don't want to that's fine! ilyyy💞

Draco Malfoy x reader: Draco shows up at your door with two kids.

(I edited it a bit because I already had many requests of the same prompt. Hope you like it anyway!)

Halloween Special  halloween prompt list | masterlist

—————————————————

You opened the door eagerly with candies. You knew it was way too early for trick-or-treaters, but you were extra prepared. 

You were dressed up like a zombie —  messy makeup, untidy hair — you had all of it ready to go. Did I mention you loved Halloween?

Instead of smiling widely at the two kids outside, your mind went blank when you noticed the person with them. The same person who hasn't talked to you for years. The exact last time you saw him was at his wedding, and your I'm-happy-for-the-couple smile was obviously forced.

True, you were happy for him, but you loved Draco, so it was fair that you were hurt inside. You never said it and he never knew it. And when you finally got the courage to say it, he was dating someone else. You bit back the words and pretended that everything was fine.

After the wedding, you hugged him so hard he thought he was going to die. Before he could feel your voice cracking, you decided to leave the party early with a good excuse.

Now there he was, on your doorstep, looking not at all surprised to see you.

"Draco!" You tried to sound pleasantly surprised, but why was the hurt so loud in your voice?

"Y/N hi," he started awkwardly, "It's been so long!"

"I know!" You looked at the kids with him. The little girl had a pretty black dress, and fake fangs. The boy looked about 10, and he was dressed up as Robin Hood.

You knelt down so you were on eye-level with them. "Are they both yours?" you asked without looking up.

"Uhm, no. Scorpius is mine," he ruffled the hair of Robin Hood. "And that's Maeve, our neighborhood friend and his best friend. Doesn't go anywhere without her."

Like you and me way back when.

"Anyways, I know it's rude of me to come without an invi-"

"No! Are you kidding? It's good to see you again." Despite your initial shock, you had meant it. Yes, he was the one who got away, but he was also your friend. And standing there, he looked the same as ever, but he finally stopped using too much gel on his hair.

"Can we come in?" Draco asked timidly. "We were visiting his mother down the block and it seems like she's at her friend's house. We should have called her first. And Scorpius here wanted to use the bathroom."

"Sure," you laughed, turning sideways so the kids can walk in. You pointed down the hall and said, "It's the second door to the left."

Scorpius ran inside, after yelling a quick thank you, which sounded more like THENK OO.

"Wait, what?" You frowned. "Why are you visiting his mother? Did you guys separate?"

Draco looked like you hit him with a brick. "You didn't know that?"

"No, I haven't had much contact with you for a while, did I?"

"I thought word would reach you somehow. You're Y/N L/N, isn't knowing everything your area of expertise?"

You shrugged. "Tonight, I'm a zombie and I don't know anything except that I eat brains."

"Well," he looked down at his feet, then back at you. "I'm still Draco Malfoy, who was such a dummy for not talking to you for years. I don't have ay explanations or excuses, but I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry more," you said, folding your hands.

“I heard from Harry that you were living here,” Draco added. “I didn’t know anyone else on this lane so yeah.”

“Awe, besties with Potter now?”

“Acquaintances.”

“Did you get friendship bracelets?” You said, ignoring him. He scowled, but he was glad to find you just the same.

"I'M ROBIN HOODDDDD," Scorpius was back, his hands above his head, like he was Superman instead. You had to admit, the kid was adorable.

"Thanks for - the bathroom?" Draco sounded doubtful. "I can't be grateful that you have a bathroom, I guess. Thanks for uh, everything. And not slamming the door in my face when you saw me."

"I would never." You replied, picking some candies and giving them to the kids.

Draco looked at you thoughtfully, maybe even a bit wistfully and said, "hey, I know it's abrupt and you can say no but - do you want to go trick or treating with us?"

You hesitated. "Don't you want to wait for his mother?"

"She's going to be stuck at her friend's. She already feels bad for not being here. And look at Scorpius, if the two of them starts running, I can’t keep up." He said, positively pleading now.

"Fine," you gave in. "Let me get a coat, it's cold."

“I’ll give you my coat, because I’m a gentleman.”

“I would prefer something actually comfortable,” You said, rolling your eyes and going to get your own.

Draco was smiling even before you came back. Talking to you felt effortless, like walking in your home after being apart away for too long, but he was finally here and this time, the two of you wouldn’t mess up.

[writingsoftheghost]

Oblivious

Analogince get together story

Logan and Roman had been together for awhile, and they loved their relationship. But...when Virgil started joining the group more and more, the pair couldn’t help but let their attention wander.

It’s not that they loved each other any less, they just...both liked Virgil too. Roman felt bad about it, that is until Logan brought it up.

“I’m sorry!” Roman cries, “I didn’t mean to-”

Logan holds up a hand, “I’m not angry, Roman. Quite the opposite, actually, I’ve also found myself”-he coughs slightly, a red tint dusting across his cheeks- “Captivated by Virgil.”

Roman grins, “Really?”

“Yes, I have to say I find him quite endearing. Do you think it’s at all possible for him to engage in a romantic relationship with us?” He cocks his head to the side, a thoughtful scowl on his face.

Roman nods excitedly, “Oh, I think it’s possible.”

***

Virgil was sitting on the couch, when Roman decided to strike first.

“Hey, Hot Topic.” Roman plops down next to Virgil on the couch, closer than he’d ever sat before.

Virgil looks up from his phone for a second rolling his eyes slightly, “Aw, you think I’m hot.” 

“Mm-hmm,” Roman nods. Virgil nearly chokes. “What are you up to?” The prince continues smoothly.

“I...um-nothing?” The anxious side answers. 

“Well, that doesn’t sound very fun,” Roman purses his lips in a half pout, “What do you say we watch a movie?

Virgil shrugs, beginning to regain his composure, “Yeah, that sounds good.”

Roman nods, he looks at Virgil for way too long and the anxious side can feel his face heating up again, “Why don’t you choose a movie?”

Virgil shrugs, “You can pick, we should invite Logan, though.” He’s hoping he doesn’t come across as desperate as he actually is. He knows bringing the prince’s boyfriend into the mix would take most attention away from him.

“That’s a lovely idea, I’m sure he’d love to join us.” Roman disappears for a brief period of time, returning with a smiling Logan.

“Hello, Virgil. How are you?” He smiles at Virgil warmly. 

“Good. Do you want to pick the movie?”

Logan hums, “Roman and I would rather have you pick.”

Virgil looks at them both strangely, but he picks out a movie, nonetheless.

Twenty minutes into the movie, Virgil notices both Roman and Logan glancing over at him periodically.

He tugs at his sleeves anxiously, had he done something wrong? They were acting weird. 

He wanted to leave the room now, it felt too tense and it was making it hard to focus on the movie.

He makes a small show out of glancing at the clock, “Oh, I should probably get to bed...” He glances at them, hoping he sounds convincing. His heart drops when he sees Logan’s brow furrow.

“You don’t usually go to bed this early, is everything alright?

Virgil tries to mask the massive breath he sucks in, “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. I didn’t sleep great last night. I’m gonna try to make up for it tonight.”

Logan’s frown deepens and Roman’s face falls too, nevertheless they let him go.

“Goodnight, Vee,” Roman calls up the stairs, “See you tomorrow.”

The couple turn to each other as soon as they hear the door to Virgil’s room shut.

Time for plan B.

*****

Logan packs a simple lunch pack, he smiles as he makes Virgil’s favorite finger foods. This plan was much more practical, he told himself.

Roman has left to ask Virgil to “hang out” for the day, Logan hopes he’d be able to convince him, he seemed uneasy the other night during their movie. Roman and Logan spent the last day coming up with this plan, as simple as it was, they thought it would work, Virgil preferred things to be simple after all. He and Logan were alike in that regard.

Logan smiles softly at the thought, however, he was quickly pulled back to reality by the sound of Virgil and Roman approaching.

“Im sure you and Logan would have more fun without me,” Virgil was saying.

“Nonsense, Logan and I both wish for you to join us.”

“Unless you really don’t want to,” Logan interrupts the pair as he steps into the living room.

“I...” Virgil’s eyes fall on the basket of food, “What did you two have planned?”

“We were just gonna go have a quiet lunch in the imagination,” Logan explains.

“And you two,” Virgil looks between the couple, confused, “Want me to come with you?”

Logan nods, “We would greatly appreciate your company.”

Virgil takes a deep breath, “Okay, I guess, as long as you’re both sure.” He glances at both of them, searching for any hint of malice or dislike, he felt bad about ruining their alone time, why would they want him to join them?

Roman smiles at him softly, “It’ll be fun, Virgil. The fresh air will be good for you.”

Virgil shrugs, “I don’t need fresh air, Princey.”

Logan grabs their lunch and Roman’s hand, “Are you both ready to go?”

Roman nods enthusiastically, “Been ready for hours! You take forever to make food!”

Logan rolls his eyes, “I like things to be done well, Roman, sometimes that takes a little extra time.”

Roman huffs, “You need anything before we leave, Virge?”

Virgil shrugs, “I don’t know, do I need to bring anything?”

“I wouldn’t think so, I’ve packed and prepared for just about everything that we’d need,” Logan assures.

“Okay,” Virgil mumbles, “‘Guess Im ready.”

“Wonderful!” Before Logan can stop him Roman reaches out and grabs Virgil’s hand.

Virgil flinches, but doesn’t pull away fully, he tries not to let Roman see the look of shock and confusion on his face.

Roman loosens his grip on Virgil’s hand slightly, worried he may have upset him, but then Virgil gives a soft squeeze and then, just like that, they’re holding hands, and Roman is leading the way to the imagination with the biggest smile he thinks he’s ever had.

Logan and Roman had already scouted the area they were going to eat at, a nice open field, perfect for easing a certain side’s parano-vigilance. The field contained a total of six trees, so it wasn’t like there could be anything lurking in the shadows.

Logan laid out a soft blanket, one with a texture that they knew Virgil liked, under the biggest tree.

Virgil sat himself on the edge of the blanket furthest from Logan and Roman. It was a big enough blanket for the distance to be noticeable, it made Logan worry that Virgil didn’t want to be there with them.

He had expected Virgil to be a little suspicious, even a little distant, at least at first, Logan knew this would be strange to him, he doubted the socially distant trait had ever been courted before.

“Virgil?” He asks in a calm tone, “Would you like some juice?” He’d been careful to avoid caffeine, knowing it could potentially highten Virgil’s anxiety.

Virgil shrugs, “I guess.”

Logan takes out the bottle of grape juice and the glasses he’d packed carefully earlier that day. When he offers Virgil a glass, he realizes that either he will have to move, or Virgil will have to move, go bridge the distance across the blanket.

Virgil makes the decision rather quickly, darting over and taking the glass from Logan, “Thank you.” He starts to shuffle back to his corner when Roman stops him.

“Why don’t you sit in the middle, Vee? That way you can reach the food?”

Virgil looks to the ground, “Didn’t want to invade your space.”

Logan frowns when he notices the hesitancy in the other’s voice, as if he isn’t sure he’s wanted. Which Logan couldn’t help but groan internally at, they’d invited him and he still feels like an intruder, anxiety truly was devoid of any logic.

“Virgil,” he holds out his hand towards the other in invitation, “You know we want you here, don’t you?”

Virgil won’t look at him, Logan sighs, “You’re more than welcome, here. We invited you, why would we invite you if we wanted you to just sit by yourself quietly? Hm?”

Virgil shrugs, “Dunno,” he mumbles.

“Is there anything we can do to make you more comfortable, stormcloud?” Roman interjects in a gentle tone, he’s aware of the tension in the way Virgil’s sitting now.

“I’m sorry,” Virgil says shakily, “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“It’s alright,” Roman whispers, “You wanna go back? I’m sorry we pressured you to come.”

Virgil shakes his head firmly, “I wanna stay, I just…don’t want to be in the way. It kinda feels like I’m intruding on a date, why was I the only person you invited? You know Patton loves outdoor lunches.”

“We know, Virgil, we just…” Logan looks at Roman, Roman gives a small head shake and Logan sighs, “We just wanted to spend time with you. We didn’t mean to make you feel awkward, we’re sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, I don’t know why I’m being so weird about it, but,” and he slowly slides his hand into Logan’s open one on the blanket, “I think I’ll be okay, now.”

“Are you sure? It really isn’t a problem if you want to go home?” Roman assures.

Virgil nods his head, “Yeah, I’m sure.”

Logan smiles and squeezes his hand softly, they all know Virgil likes physical reassurance sometimes, and they’re glad he’s started accepting, and even asking for it on occasion. Patton has to remind himself constantly that Virgil has to be the one to initiate it, however.

Roman pulls out plates and food from the pack, Virgil tries to give Logan back his hand, but he’s quickly stopped, “Please don’t let go until you’re ready, okay?” Logan smiles at him, “My right hand is fully capable of doing this alone, I promise.”

Roman hands him a plate and asks Virgil what he’d like.

They eat comfortably, Virgil relaxes enough to let go of Logan’s hand, but moves closer to him and Roman anyway. Virgil talks about Halloween coming up and Logan tells him that he’s already put horror movies into the schedule for that month.

When they finish their food they continue to sit there and talk quietly. A soft breeze blowing through the field making the place even more peaceful. They were all enjoying a moment of quiet when…

Hic!

Roman sits up and stares at a blushing Virgil in shock.

The emo side ducks his head, “Shut up, Pri-hic!-ncey,” he says in an attempt at a growl.

Roman smirks, “Is there a problem, Virgil? You seem to be having a bit of trouble.”

Logan giggles, “You don’t need to be embarrassed about the hiccups, Virgil. Everyone gets them.”

“I don’t—hic—have the hiccups!” He grumbles.

Roman laughs and Logan laughs, Virgil glares at them both for a moment, but he can’t hold it for very long before he’s laughing too.

“Stop laughing at me!” He shouts between giggles.

“I don’t think,” Roman wheezes, “I’ve ever seen you hiccup before.”

“Shut—hic—up!” Virgil shoves him off the blanket with a laugh.

Roman sits back on the blanket, “Gosh, you’re adorable.”

Virgil and Logan both freeze, Virgil glancing nervously at Logan, Logan and Roman both looking at him, horrified at the thought that they’d just blown it.

“I—uh—”Virgil is still staring at Logan, a look of fear in his voice. Virgil looks at him, the face of logic not giving him any ideas as to what he’s supposed to do. He shakes his head, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, Virgil,” Logan says softly.

Roman sucks in a harsh breath, understanding the apology as a gentle rejection.

They sit in awkward silence for an eternity.

“Perhaps it’s…time we head back?” Logan suggests in a quiet tone.

Virgil’s heart drops as he decidedly believes Logan hates him now. “Yeah-Yeah, sure.”

They walk back in silence. Virgil stuffs his hands in his pockets to hide their shaking. Roman and Logan keep glancing at him, both taking his silence as a sign of discomfort.

They allow him to go to his room, wincing at the sound of his door shutting softly, not even a slam.

“I ruined it,” Roman whispers sadly.

Logan shakes his head, “We still have a chance, Love.”

Roman shakes his head, “He wouldn’t even look at me.”

“He couldn’t stop looking to me,” Logan whispers back, “I didn’t know what to say, I chose a cowards way out. I fled.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Roman places a hand on his shoulder, “I’m sorry I messed this up.”

“You didn’t mess anything up,” Logan wraps his arms around Roman’s neck and kisses a tear sliding down his cheek. “We should give him some space, we can check back in tomorrow.”

Roman nods and allows Logan to lead him to bed, not really believing any of the logical side’s attempts to reassure him.

*****

Virgil stays in his room through breakfast. Roman liked him. He should be happy! He likes Roman! But…he likes Logan too, and he’d never wanted to get between them like this.

Logan told him it was alright, Virgil took that to mean that he didn’t really blame him, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t upset. He can only imagine the fight he and Roman probably had last night.

Virgil’s heart skips a beat when he thinks about the two of them breaking up.

He didn’t know what he did to ever catch Creativity’s attention but he wished he hadn’t done it. He felt truly awful for doing this to them.

“Kiddo,” there’s a knock at his bedroom door, “You need to eat lunch, it’s almost 1:30.” Patton sounds worried, Virgil hasn’t locked himself in his room like this since he ducked out.

“I’m not hungry, Pat. I’ll eat later.”

Patton frowns, “Virge?” He asks hesitantly. “Is everything okay? You know you can talk to me if you need to?”

“I’m fine, Pops.”

Patton isn’t convinced, “Hey…you don’t have to talk about it, but if you don’t want to be by yourself you can come to my room? Might help to be somewhere else for awhile?”

Virgil sighs, “you sure?”

“Of course.”

Virgil opens the door and Patton gives him a sad smile, “come on, I’ll get you something to eat and some tea.”

Virgil nods, “Thank you.”

Patton sits down on his bed next to Virgil, passing him a sandwich and some chips.

“I messed up,” Virgil whispers as he takes a chip.

Patton looks at him in surprise, “What did you mess up, Virge?”

“Logan and Roman, I messed up their relationship. They’re fighting and it’s all my fault.”

Patton scoots closer, “I didn’t know they were fighting. How is it your fault, honey?”

“I just…I don’t know why, they invited me out to lunch with them, and it…it was weird! But then it wasn’t, and it was nice, but…Roman called me adorable and I…I like him, but he’s Logan’s boyfriend and I never wanted to hurt Logan because I like him too and I just… Logan probably hates me now, and Roman and Logan might break up and it’ll be all my fault and there’s no way I can ever make it up to him!” Virgil’s breathless when he finishes. He doesn’t know when he started crying.

Patton shakes his head, he remembers when Logan and Roman told him they liked Virgil. When Logan had asked him what Virgil’s favorite foods were. How Patton made them both promise they would be patient and gentle with Virgil’s already shot nerves.

He can’t help but be a little upset with them for letting Virgil wallow in this all day. He pushes that feeling aside, and decides to help his three hopeless friends out.

“Virge, I can assure you, Roman and Lo are gonna be just fine. But I think you should go talk to them about this. I think there might’ve been a bit of a mix up.”

Virgil cocks his head, “What do you mean?”

Patton shakes his head again, “They’re not fighting, kiddo. I promise, just go talk to them.”

“But I—”

“Trust me.”

And with that Patton is nudging him towards the door and Virgil’s in the hall.

He glances worriedly back at the father figure.

“They’re in Logan’s room last I saw.” Patton shuts the door.

Virgil feels a slight sting of betrayal at having been abandoned to face the pair alone, but he approaches the door anyway.

He stands there for two and a half minutes before knocking.

“What is it?” Logan calls through the door.

“It’s—um—it’s me, I think maybe I need to—”

The door swings open, “Virgil?”

The logical side looks as if he hasn’t slept well, Roman is standing behind him in a similar state. Virgil can just barely see the whiteboard on the back wall covered in incomprehensible diagrams and cluster graphs.

“Hey…” he gives a weird little half wave for some reason he doesn’t understand.

“Are you…alright?” Roman asks hesitantly.

“Me?” Virgil asks in confusion, “Are you two okay?”

Logan nods, “We’re dreadfully sorry, we didn’t mean to put you on the spot like that, we—”

“I got carried away, Virgil. I’m sorry,” Roman cuts Logan off.

“You couldn’t help yourself, I shouldn’t have chosen such an intimate activity for us,” Logan defends his boyfriend.

“No, this is my fault. I’m the one that put the pressure on him.”

“Love, I should’ve planned for this. I know you can’t help yourself when it comes to your feelings.”

“You can’t plan for everything. I should’ve—”

“Hold on a second!” Virgil interrupts, “Did I miss something? What are you two arguing over?”

“It doesn’t matter, Virgil,” Logan composes himself, “We both apologize for making you uncomfortable. It was not our intention, regardless, we understand if you do not wish to go on anymore dates with us”

Virgil stares at him in complete in total confusion. “Dates?”

Roman’s eyes widen, “Surely you’re aware of what we’ve been doing. We took you to a romantic lunch! We’ve been flirting with you constantly! What did you think was happening?”

Virgil looks at Logan, the logical side gives a small smile and a nod. “I thought,” Virgil starts, “I don’t know, I guess I just thought we were hanging out, and then I guess I thought Roman was hitting on me. I didn’t realize Logan was.”

“So that’s why you acted so upset,” Roman mumbles.

“Ah, I see. My advances are less…direct,” Logan explains sheepishly.

Virgil nods, “Yeah I got that now, but I thought…that I’d ruined your relationship! That I’d broken you up or something! Oh my god I hardly slept at all last night!”

Logan winces sympathetically, “We didn’t either, but we’re very sorry for distressing you.”

“It’s fine,” Virgil shrugs it off. “But you guys…both of you…want to date me?”

“Of course, if you’d allow us,” Logan smiles, “We both find you quite endearing. Would you be willing to let us continue to romance you?”

“Logan, you make it sound so formal,” roman laughs, but he has an excited gleam in his eye, “You wanna date us, Virgil? You can say no, it’s okay, but if the answer is yes we’d both be delighted to have you as our boyfriend.”

Virgil can’t help it, he’s skeptical, this feels too much like something he’d dream up, he looks both of them in the face, hunting for any sign of a joke or a lie. There isn’t any, just encouraging smiles.

“Yeah, I’d…I’d like that a whole lot.”

He’s quickly wrapped in two pairs of arms, happy laughter filling his ears.

—————

@idont-freaking-know @aceawkwardunicorn @cute-and-angsty-princess @emo--nightmaree @a-yeet-bop-bop-boom @me-a-mess-morelikelythanyouthink @katlikethesword @tranquil-space-ninja @book-limerence

[loser-hub]

Valentine's Day Headcannons! Is it early? Yes! Do I care? Not a bit! A part two with some Pro's is coming soon!

Warnings: A hint of spice here and there, all characters are aged up to 21+ at least!

Izuku Midoriya

Has had your date planned for a month, at least, having planned since Christmas.

Valentine's Day is the day about love, couples, expressing your feelings and spending time with your significant other. Or that's what every commercial says when the month changes, bombarding everyone with pink, red and kisses.

Izuku soaks up every moment of it like a sponge.

He's not the best at expressing his feelings, always stuttering and tripping over himself, so he relies on acts of devotion, affection of gift giving to show you how much he appreciates and loves you.

Has a notebook dedicated to the day. Countless scribbles about what you like, what you don't, what you're allergic to, and any fact that could help him plan the perfect date.

The day starts and its all about you from the get go.

Gets you clean with a bath with candles, rose petals, bath bombs, bath oils, the absolute works. Spent way too much time and money at Bath & Bodyworks picking out your favorite things in case you were low.

Nervously picks at his nails while he waits, now second guessing himself and doubting if he might've gone overboard with everything.

Invite him in and he'd be on Cloud Nine!

The rest of the day goes however you'd like, whatever you want and he's at your beck and call. Driving you around to your favorite stores to staying home and chilling out on the couch, he just wants to spend time with you and see you happy. If you're happy then he's happy!

After getting cleaned Izuku takes you up to this scenic hill outside the city that looks over a field of flowers, allergy pills at the ready! He sets down a plaid blanket and breaks out his picnic basket full of your favorite foods and drinks.

He'll keep you there until the sun sets, holding you close to his chest as you two watch the sky turn to pinks and oranges.

Bakugou Katsuki

The polar opposite of Izuku's feverish planning.

He's more of an "oh, it's V-Day? Cool, I guess" kind of guy.

Shows up at your door out of the blue, no warning, no nothing, a box of chocolates under his arm as he thrusts a bouquet of flowers into your face. "Coincidentally" your favorite kind.

"Saw it was Valentine's Day and I'd be a fucking shitty boyfriend if I didn't bring you something, I guess. Get dressed, we're going out...somewhere...wherever you want."

Drags you out and pulls you along, opening his car door for you, closing it, being the gentleman that he secretly is.

Takes you to a little café on the outskirts of town he found one evening while patrolling, it seemed really nice and cute and thought of you when he saw it. So why not take you here for a little date?

Hands stuffed in his pockets he wanders inside, glued to your side.

Although like Deku, he's not the greatest at verbal affection. Sure he can scream and yell his feelings in anger but expressing how he felt about you? That stumped him.

Bakugou also prefers acts of service and gift giving as his love language, this man cannot articulate his love for you to save his life.

So moments like these are the most endearing moments of his character.

Let's you order whatever you want and subconsciously gets the same so you both can talk about how good/bad it was and so, if you did like it, he could cook it for you at home.

Shoto Todoroki

Oh dear please help this poor boy.

He has no idea what Valentine's Day is.

You'd have to be the one to suggest doing something or surprise him with a date, because he has no idea.

Its not that he doesn't care but he's simply never put stock into the lovey dovey holiday meant for couples, love and all that.

Show up at his door for a change!

He'll be pleasantly surprised and oh-so happy to see you there, even if he's rushing out the door so Enji, Natsuo and Fuyumi don't get wind of your arrival.

You'll never be left alone if they realize your there.

He prefers to drive, he doesn't know why but being in a car with you driving to a restaurant is strangely domestic. Since it is V-Day and you've so nicely explained to him what it means and the context around the holiday, you two decide to go to a fancy upscale place for a change.

Shoto decides to go all out, taking himself and you to a dressing shop and has you pick out an outfit while he gets a black suit with a red tie.

Its not often Shoto cleans himself up but when he does, wow.

Not to worry about reservations, all he has to do is show up and break out his gold credit card and the receptionist's eyes bug out of her head. Being Endeavor's kid has its perks on occasion and the staff takes you two to a secluded booth specifically for hero's and their partners.

Lit by candlelight you two share a multiple course meal, desert and feed each other rose topped chocolates.

An overall cheesy yet romantic date that he'll never forget.

Tomura Shigaraki

He's one of the ones whose bombarded with lovey dovey shit the second January turns to February.

Every MMO RPG in his collection does a Valentine theme in some way so its impossible for him to escape all the pink and red.

Those are the worst two weeks of the year.

He drops everything and plunges himself to the most gorey and eventless games he can find to get his mind off V-Day...well, before you came along.

Now seeing the themed events makes him pause, change his mind even, reconsider if you feel so inclined.

It all came to a head once he saw matching skins. Husband and wife, partners in crime, the list was endless for the game you two played together. Yep, he was going to do something.

Going out of the hideout during a busy holiday like today was out of the question so you rightfully suspected nothing would happen, Shigaraki wasn't going to whisk you away to a secluded hill and have a picnic. He wasn't that kind of man and he might scrape off bits of skin if put in that kind of situation anyways.

Nope, instead you were scooped up off the couch and hauled to his room. Plopped right down in the other chair of your couples gaming setup.

Your headphones on, game loaded up, hand on the mouse and your boyfriend mumbling how he needed "help" for the event.

"Tch, don't read too much into it Player Two, I get more XP if I'm in a group so you're coming with me. Just be my Love Healer and I'll DPS our way through the bosses."

Needless you weren't going to ask why your character was suddenly in a frilly dress with a bouquet instead of your normal staff.

Dabi

The most casual and uninspired ass you can possibly imagine.

Days all mix and warp together for Dabi so he doesn't know what day it is until he sees an abnormal amount of couples out and about. The shameless displays of affection was nauseating.

But hey, the shopkeeps were too busy with entitled Karens to notice some of their stock had gone missing.

No one pays attention to the burnt chicken nugget holding a massive stuffed bear and a plastic bag full of sweet on today of all days, normally he has to keep to the streets and be a sneeki beeki boi but this is the one day except for Halloween that he can get away with being in public. The stuffed animal a convenient hiding place when he gets looks.

His cover is blown when the plush is pushed into your open window first. He loves hearing your scream of surprise when he sneaks in but he can't do that very well with a four foot bear on his back...maybe next year.

Gets everything set up while you're worrying over him and making sure he wasn't seen or followed. You're too cute for your own good, worrying about him over yourself and what the police would do if they found out.

Today is definitely needed, for both of you. Time alone to just chill and cuddle.

Wrapped up in blankets, drinking some shitty stolen wine, eating sweets and laughing at how stupid the main characters of the rom-com marathon are.

The morning after you find yourself alone but at least now you'll never fall asleep alone with your Dabi scented teddy bear.

[wiypt-writes]

Murder, He Wrote

Part 3 Co-Written with @southerngracela​

Summary: It’s Thanksgiving, but when you’re being held hostage by Hugh Ransom Drysdale there’s really not a lot to be thankful for, is there?

Warnings: Bad language words. MATURE (NSFW 18+) NON-CON situation, kidnap, violence. DO NOT READ IF ANY OF THOSE TRIGGER… READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!!!!

Pairing: DARK! Ransom Drysdale x Reader

A/N:  So this is Part 2 to our submission for @Jtargaryen18 ‘s Haunted House 2020  Challenge. Once again READ THE WARNINGS!!!! This is a DARK Series… don’t @ us if you can’t follow simple instructions and end up with butt-hurt. And if you’re under 18…get off my blog.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and by writing it does NOT mean I agree with or condone the acts contained within. This fiction is classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar reader and any other OCs that may or may not be mentioned. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Murder, He Wrote Masterlist // Main Masterlist.

Part 2

You could feel the chill of the outside seeping into your space, your bones, through the vented window following your shower. The way it crept in made you realize just how far along through fall you were, maybe it was even approaching the onset of the holiday weather. Either way, a storm seemed to be outside. At least it felt like it. Once dried, you found yourself wrapping up tighter in the thick cardigan you’d chosen before you dried your hair, and allowed yourself a quick squirt of perfume before settled into the reading chair in the corner of your room, your journal on your lap.

The little, leather bound book had been in your handbag which had been given back to you earlier that morning as the latest reward for behaving and as you ran your hand over the deep brown cover, you couldn’t help the air of excitement you felt at having been given your treasured little note book, despite the dreary sky you could see from the porthole above your chair.

It had actually surprised you that Drysdale had kept it and not disposed of it the same way he had your phone and your car. But for whatever reason, he’d held onto it, and for that you were grateful. Grateful that you had something of your own from before this imprisonment to anchor too. You’d expected him to want some kind of favour in return but he hadn’t demanded any sort of sexual gratification, simply informed you he would be out most of the morning and would be back mid to late afternoon. As soon as he had gone you had eagerly tipped the contents of your bag onto the bed, almost crying at the sight of your half empty bottle of Coco-Mademoiselle, the Mac Lip-gloss, NYX Eyebrow pencil, Mont Blanc fountain pen, a full tube of mints and your treasured journal. With teary eyes you’d put everything away in its new place, apart from the book and pen before padding into the bathroom for a shower, deliberately sorting yourself out for the day. All you could think of was taking the time so you could savour the moment when you could hopefully make some sense of the jumble in your head by spilling it onto a page.

You opened the cover and flicked to your last entry, the morning of Halloween. A rambling rant about Mick-The-Prick filled the page and you paused, tears in your eyes, as you’d give anything to be stood in his office thinking about ingenious ways to kill him and get away with it. Ironic, really considering that was exactly what your captor had done; committed murder and gotten away with it.

You went to jot the date down in the corner of the page and realised that actually, you didn’t have a clue what it was. Down here, night bled into day, day bled into night…and soon it all bled into weeks. However, given the fact your cycle had been and gone a week ago you figured that it was maybe four weeks since Halloween. Of course, you could ask Hugh, but the less you had to ask him the better as far as you were concerned. You hate the fact that he had this hold on you, that you had to ask for and ‘earn’ things by being ‘good’. And whilst it made you sick to your stomach, you’d fast learnt it was easier to comply than rebel. The night he had left you tangled in your sweater had hurt. It had taken you a good twenty minutes to muster the strength to work your way out and drag yourself into a bath, your body shaking with the trauma, sobs wracking your frame. Your body ached for days, your mind in a post-traumatic cloud of despair. And whilst it hadn’t broken you per-say, it had certainly made you realise exactly what the bastard was capable of, and you had no intention of finding out just how much further he was willing to go.

So, in summary, it had taken Ransom Drysdale two days to break you into compliance.

You’d become passive, so to speak. You gave into his whims, let him use you as he saw fit, did as he told… for the most part anyway. There had been a few other incidents post the sweater one where you’d forgotten yourself and protested, fought a little and he’d gone hard on you, but nothing like that second night. Your passive behaviour was mistaken by him for compliance, and as such you had earned a number of rewards. The bistro table where you took your meals, a book or two which just so happened to be by his grandfather, a gesture you weren't sure was him purging or pressing an agenda onto you. And more recently and most preciously, your bag. But, the strange thing was, that whilst he wanted you to give into him physically, he seemed to enjoy the fact that you were in no way, shape or form compliant to him in others. You openly sassed him, bit back, called him out and he actively encouraged it. He’d started spending a little more time with you in the mornings and afternoons, not just visiting you to toy with you or fuck, but to engage in these little tete-a-tete’s, and the sickest, most perverted thing about it was that you were almost glad. The loneliness was crippling, and you craved company. Even if it was his.  

All things considered, you’d rather ask him for as little as possible so instead, you flicked to the front of the book and crossed off the days on the small calendar inside the cover. Deciding that the date it led you to was as accurate as it was going to get, you turned back, jotted it down in the top right of your page and stared at the blank lines, looking to sort your thoughts for your next entry.

The saying used to go, what's in a name, however as I sit here thinking back on the last few weeks I wonder now what's in a day. My days consist of imprisonment. Held by a captor I have met once before. He's smart, almost too smart. Displaying forms of abuse and aggressive behaviors any FBI analyst would love to dive deep into. But that's not my job, no, my job is to please and satisfy him. Answer to his whims of gratification at any call of the day. I have nowhere to go, nowhere to hide. But if I behave, he lets few things get by. I miss home, my bed, my life. I miss Mick, which is saying a lot all things considered. I don't know still what he wants from me, other than the obvious sexual gratification with little to no room for anything else. I'm a toy, a means to an itch. I don't know how long exactly I've been here, I can only guess it's been about a month. Nor do I know how long I'll have to stay. The answers are blurred like my vision, marred by tears and the low light inside. I haven't seen outside since the day he took me. I haven't been anywhere outside this room. I can see from the small porthole window above this stupidly soft leather chair the season has changed. It feels like deep fall, and as a storm comes outside, what little sky I see is bleak and dark, clouds covering the bluest of skies, angry and ready to open up, raining down water to wash away the sins of the day. I wish I could do the same. 

Before you realized, time had obviously passed, for the sound of the door bolts unlocking had you guessing it was late afternoon or early evening. A glance up at the porthole behind you confirmed as much. The sky was dark and rain had been beating on the window for a little while. 

In came Drysdale, hair a bit wet, a strand slightly out of place, wool pants and maroon sweater. He carried a plate of food in one hand and a bottle of water in the other. He looked irked, like he'd wasted time on something, a look you were now able to decipher after weeks of seeing it. 

"Happy Thanksgiving," he said, setting the plate down on the bistro table with its two accompanying chairs, waiting for you to join him. 

Instead of biting back, you simply whispered, "it’s Thanksgiving?" You checked the inside cover of your journal and see the date again. You were a day off and it now dawned on you. It was the fourth Thursday of the month and indeed, Thanksgiving. You glanced back up at Ransom and a deep sadness washed over you. Closing your journal and setting it on the table by your chair, you stood, moving towards him and the plate of food. You took a seat and looked down at the plate, full of the holiday dish basics; turkey, gravy, mashed potatoes, stuffing, diced not candied yams and roasted green beans. It was gourmet and nothing near what he'd been serving you or managing to try. "Thank you," you said softly, rolling your fork through the potatoes. You take a bite but it's about as bland and tasteless as your despair. 

"I brought it back from the country club, I met my father there," he looked under your gaze again, as if willing your eyes to his. "Do you not like it?" 

Finally, your gaze met those cold cerulean orbs, setting your fork down and you took a drink of water, "No, it's fine." Then you picked up your fork again and took another bite, this time of the turkey and gravy. You didn't have it in you for an argument or it's physical ramifications. 

"Are you not hungry?" Ransom pressed. 

"I guess not as much as I thought," you repled further poking at your food, your voice cracking a little as you try to keep your composure. The sting of the holiday has you broken, far more than you'd expected. Normally, today you'd be helping your mother in the kitchen, settling the final touches on the side dishes and listening to your father tell your uncle about some a-typical dad joke he'd heard. Your sister would be giddy over the wine while her boyfriend of the month received death glares from said uncle and your father. 

Ransom outwardly sighed and you wait for what you were trying to avoid. "Are you alright?" 

The question threw you off guard completely and you struggled to hide the shock from your expression. He never cared about your feelings before. Maybe he thought you were coming down with something. You braced yourself to answer honestly. There was no point in lying, he'd see through it. 

"I'm fine, I'm not sick if that's what you're thinking," you answered, a deep restraint on your tone to keep yourself in check. "I hadn't realized what day it was. I didn't know it was Thanksgiving." You swallowed the lump in your throat and blinked hard. "My mom, my sister and I, we used to all help make dinner as a family. My dad and uncle would talk a bunch of shit around the fireplace while shooting death glares at my sister's flavor of the month."

He looked at you like he was confused. You scoff, "Of course you wouldn't understand."

"What's that supposed to mean?" He squint his eyes, biting the inside of his cheek. His body language completely changed as he leaned forward on his forearms, popping one shoulder up higher than the other. 

"Nothing," you backed down immediately. 

"Tell me," he pressed. 

God, he was relentless. You pushed your plate forward and leaned on your own elbows. You looked at him with a raised brow, "am I going to be in trouble if you don't like what I have to say?" 

"Depends," he popped a shoulder smugly. 

You matched his expression and his demeanour falters just a fraction. You saw it, but you didn't hold back. "Then I'd rather keep it to myself. That's what you want isnt it? Me to comply, be obedient? Frankly, I'm not in the mood." 

He failed to hide his smirk and you noticed that too, "Sweetheart." It wasn't laced with teasing, rather his pet name for you on his tongue held a cautious venom. 

"You hate your family. You know nothing about love and what it takes to give love. Hell, I don't doubt that for a minute you've ever felt loved. It's all an act. Self-preservation even. I don't know you or your family outside of the hours of research I did and the mere forty five minutes I listened to you drone on about your 'predicament'. But, the cold hearted truth of it is, you don't know how to love." You watched him run his tongue along his teeth as he continued to glare at you, but you weren't finished. "And that's what family is, it's what they do. They love, they are the embodiment of love at its deepest root. Maybe, just maybe somewhere along your life, your parents loved you, but judging by the Thrombey-Drysdale standards, none of you know what love is outside your selfish tithings and flashy cars. It got lost along the way, more than likely long before you ever were born."

"Wow," he raised his brows and clicked his tongue against his teeth, "That's good, that's really good."

You're fear receptors suddenly spiked as recognizable flash of anger in his eyes flashed through his irises. But there was something else there that you couldn't put your finger on it. Your breathing quickly up-ticked as you felt your palms begin to sweat.

He inhaled a deep, almost centering breath, "that perfume in your bag, I like it."

As if he'd grown a second head, you blinked hard refocusing on him. Had you heard him right? You'd just broken a rule, laid out an unspeakable truth for him and now in a blink he's, God forbid, complimenting your scent? Who the fuck was this guy? Was he on meds? Because he should be or he should at least probably share. It might make life here more bearable. "What?" 

"The perfume from your bag, you're wearing it. It smells good," he lamented. 

Alright, now the 'of sound mind' argument might be worth something because he sure as shit wasn't now. You swallowed and picked up your fork, taking a bite of the cold food just to buy yourself some time as you tried to process the scene before you. You had no remark to make. Confusing jumbled any thought of a coherent word you could utter. 

"Maybe if I'm out, I can pick you up a new bottle. I noticed you were near empty," Ransom offered. 

This was starting to make your stomach turn. If he'd gone through your bag, because why wouldn't he at this point, smelled your perfume, had he read your journal? You made a mental note to go back through and see if there was anything he'd read that he had used against you thus far or could use to corner you in the future. You looked around the room, waiting to see if you were being Punk'd. Just who the fuck is this guy? Without your expression giving too much of your confusion away, you nod at him in reply. "Thank you, I'd like that."

"Hmph," he paused, a dramatic effect he seemed to know that your heart rate up in anxiety. "Well, then why are you looking at me like I have two heads, Y/N?" 

Tread lightly, you thought to yourself. He didn't call you by your first name often, in fact, the last time he had, you were very much smarting back and it resulted in a forceful situation that left you raw and sore for a few days. It was always 'Sweetheart'. 

He baited you, you knew it, but you couldn't back out now. So you sighed, "I know I'm not supposed to ask questions, but, I don't even know who you are right now. Do you? One minute you're giving me food and being gentle, the next you're allowing my opinion, and now you're ready to flip this table. That's as close as two heads as it gets." 

"Careful, Sweetheart," he now glared at you. There it was, you were in for it. The approach of choice, you weren't sure of, but he was done. You'd learned the different tones in his voice by now, the cues he gave. You were definitely in trouble. You dropped your eyes to your plate. The food stone cold and no longer even appealing in its slightest measure, a wave of nausea washing over you. You further pushed your plate away, "I don't think I'm hungry anymore."

His broad frame rose from the chair, "you weren't to begin with," his left hand reaching for the plate and holds it in his hand, "Third drawer down in the armoire. Pick something, I'll be back."

You watched him leave, the familiar click of the door shutting and snap of the lock sounded around the small apartment and you exhaled loudly, your head dropping into your hands. This wasn’t the first time he’d requested that you ‘dress for the occasion’ so to speak. With a deep breath you stood up and crossed the room, opening the drawer of requirements, seeking out a negligee for him to no doubt remove. Your fingers roamed over the fabrics and selection. La Perla, Agent Provocateur, Carine Gilson, Coco de Mer and Fleur of England were just a handful of the expensive, high-end brands that filled the space. Your fingers smoothed over a black macrame and tule underwired long line bra and the matching thong that was folded neatly under it. Plucking it from the drawer, you headed for the bathroom. You slipped out of your casual tee, duster cardigan and leggings, the bra and panties you'd had on. You sighed as you took a good look at yourself in your naked form. 

While you hadn't lost a ton of weight over the last month, you could tell you'd grown thinner. You weren't gaunt but your lack of a daily Dunkin' Donuts macchiato had seemed to thin you out. Your captor made sure you were fed, but you didn't always eat. The plump of your cheeks had receded and your little pooch brought on by happy carbs was sucked into your frame. There were a few bruises still seen, near green, an indication of their final healing stage. The pock mark from a hickey he'd given you still a bit scaby as he'd broken the skin just barely. This was your life now and it made what few bites of Thanksgiving dinner in your stomach nearly lurch forward back up your throat.

You swallowed it down, pulling the long line bra straps up your arms and clasping it behind your back. Your legs slipped into the thong panties and you pulled the material up your freshly smooth legs. Your shaky fingers plucked at the hair tie that fastened the end of your brain closed, nails raking through your hair to loosen your tendrils. He always wanted your hair loose. You looked at yourself in the mirror, you were ready. 

***** Ransom tossed the un-eaten food into the garbage and dumped the plate into the sink to be dealt with later. Turning so that his lower back was leaning on the edge of the kitchen counter he ran a hand over his clean shaven jaw, his mind ticking over the events of the day so far. A pain-in-the-ass Thanksgiving meal with his father had been made bearable by the fact he knew he was coming back to her, and because he hadn’t wanted to be a complete monster he’d made the effort of bringing her a nice dinner back too. But she’d hardly touched any of it.

And what disturbed him most about it, was the fact that instead of wanting to punish her for being an ungrateful bitch, he instead felt a deep rooted sense of concern. She’d lost weight, her face was pale, her hip bones more pronounced, and frankly the last thing he wanted was her passing out on him. Whilst he wanted her compliant, necrophilia really wasn’t his bag.

He had thought by giving her back the bag she’d had on her the night he took her he might have seen a lift in her spirits so to speak, a little gratitude, but instead she’d been meek and reserved until he’d coaxed that familiar sass out of her. And even then she’d been reticent.

It should have pleased him that she was learning her place and becoming more subservient. But if he was being honest with himself, he almost missed her fighting and arguing back. It had been exciting in a way, and he had thought it would have taken longer than it had to break her so to speak. Maybe he had overestimated exactly what a fighter she was, maybe she wasn’t the right muse for his writing after all. Because, let’s face it, writing a tale about a woman who was captured and broken into submission within two days, merely becoming a puppet for her captor’s whims was hardly going to win him any accolades was it? He needed more, needed something that he could spin a good story from. He knew now that when he went back down to her he had to try a different tact so to speak, he needed to coax her mind into reacting not merely her body.

Because if he couldn’t do that, there was no point in keeping her.

He allowed her half an hour or so before he headed back down the stairs and found her sat on the bed, dressed in one of the sets he’d purchased, her hair loose round her face and shoulders the way he liked. She jumped to her feet and he had to actively supress the groan that was rolling in his throat as his eyes scanned her up and down, and he didn’t miss the slight bruises that dotted her skin in various places where he’d marked her as his own. She’d long since stopped trying to cover herself up. Instead she stood stock still, her eyes focussed on the floor.

With long strides he walked into the room and stopped in front of her, tipping her chin up with his finger so she was looking at him, her eyes wide with trepidation and he gave a smirk as he reached up, brushing her hair off the side of her face and neck, dropping his head as he did so.

“You smell so good, Sweetheart.” He inhaled against her pulse point, lips pressing into her there. He felt the gasp of her breath, the way her skin pricked with chill bumps. He smirked to himself, he’s found her spot. And he filed that away, committing it to memory. 

“I like this…” he practically purred as he toyed with the straps to the bra, a long, thick middle finger outlining the strap against her skin, lips following pursuit.

“You should, you chose it.”

He chuckled, ignoring the snark behind her words. “Like I chose you, huh?”

Like I chose you.

His words echoed around your head, reminding you exactly why you were in this fucking situation. Because he had decided you would be. He wanted you, and just like with everything else in his life that Hugh Ransom Drysdale wanted, he simply took. But what worried you the most about all this was whether or not you would be discarded the same way he no doubt discarded the other possessions he lost interest in.

You took a deep, steadying breath as his hands moved from the straps of your bra, long fingers moving to caress the back of your neck, but there was no grabbing, no force. He was being positively gentle.

And it scared the crap out of you.

“Are you afraid of me?” He asked, his breath hot and wet in your ear as you trembled under the further graze of his fingers against the macramé of your set. 

“You know I am," you swallowed nervously. You weren't new to this, this wasn't your first time, but the way he was being soft, a stark character change to his a-typical stance with you was what had you crawling in fear in the inside. Was it a game? Was it some sort of ploy? Was this his idea of foreplay now before he turned it up and went hard enough to bruise but not hard enough to make you cry?

A flat palm ran down your abdomen, already taught in fear. But not before a thumb grazed along the underside of your breast. Agonizingly slow, his hand, still splayed over you, dips into your matching macrame panties, dipping into your wet folds, thumb lightly pressing against your clit. 

“You’re so wet, considering you’re scared.”

You didn't answer, just swallowed hard, the lump stuck in your throat as it fought against a little whimper. 

His mouth once more latched onto your neck, the kisses gentle as opposed to the bruising ones you had become accustomed to. The fingers in your folds matched his slow nature, teasing you in such a way that when you closed your eyes and focussed your mind elsewhere, you could almost believe you were somewhere with a man you’d given permission to touch you in such away. But when his lips moved to your jawline and you took a deep breath, the heady scent of his cologne hit your senses and your eyes flew open as you were reminded just whose lips and hands were violating you in such away.

You swallowed as Ransom pulled away, his hand gently grasping your chin once more as he issued a simple instruction.

“Strip for me, sweetheart.”

You took a deep breath, swallowing down the bile that had once more risen up your throat as he sat down on the edge of the bed, his legs bent, hands resting on his knees as he watched you the way a lion watched its prey. You undid the clasp on your bra, your eyes remaining locked on his as you slid the straps down your shoulders and dropped the garment to the floor. Your captor took a deep breath, his eyes flicking down your body as you moved to shed the bottom half, wondering what on earth had been the point of wearing it in the first place. But even as you asked yourself that, you already knew the answer. It was a bout power, another way for him to remind you just who you belonged to now. How he could strip you bare in more way than one without even lifting a finger.

But lift a finger he did, curling it in mid-air as he beckoned you towards him. You took careful steps over the floor until you were stood in between his legs. His large hands smoothed up the outside of your thighs, before he pulled you towards him, his nose brushing the skin of your abdomen as he took  a deep breath, fingers curling round your thighs.

And then, in a flash he stood, taking you with him, and before you could so much as utter a squeak or noise of surprise he had you naked, laying across the bed, the sheets cold against your skin, a contrast to the heat emanating from the body against yours. The look in his lust blown eyes was overwhelming. You didn't know what you were in for but as his body, still clothed in the frayed maroon sweater and wool slacks sunk into the mattress between your legs, you felt a chill course through your veins, your skin, again, pricking in bumps all over. His hands, with their thick fingers, trailed long lines up and down your thighs, Ransom's full lips kissing at your sensitive inner skin, a nip or two here and there as he went from your knee, upward. 

He could smell your arousal, see it glistening as it dripped from your core. "Someone's ready," he quipped. He watched you swallow hard, a literal lump in your throat bobbing the skin. Your eyes never left him. "No cumming until I tell you. Do you understand?" When you didn't answer immediately, he swiped his tongue over your wet lips, tasting the honey your body gave him, your back arching away from sheets. "Do you understand?" 

And there it was, your punishment finally arriving from your little moment before over dinner. As you still had your wits about you, you uttered a single word response, in the hope that the more submissive you were, the more accepting you were of your chastisement, the less hard on you he was going to be.

"Yes." 

His mouth expertly devoured every inch of you, from your inner and outer pussy lips to the depths of your walls, tongue fucking you like you he was starving, the lavish holiday meal he'd partaken in not filling enough. His thumb pressed against your engorged nub, causing you to writhe but a firm arm over your abdomen kept you in place. The same thick fingers that traced lines up your thighs, two were now buried deep inside you, his tongue working away any juices that seeped out. As he gave you a third, stretching you more, you felt your walls start to tighten, that burning coil in your belly flare and your hands gripped the sheets tighter. 

Ransom could clearly feel you flutter against his fingers as he stopped his assault and looked up at you.

"What did I say?" 

Your chest heaved, your stomach taught and you fought to obey. When you managed to calm yourself, he began again, almost from square one, slowly, tantalizingly slow. 

The action was torture and you were desperately willing yourself to remain grounded as again your body fought to ride over the edge building inside you. When his mouth was over you completely, tongue deep, thumb pressing again into your clit, you felt the urge to cum. But he pulled away, slowly, his thumb stopping the pressure, his tongue slowly dragging out of you. 

"I said no. This is your punishment for your smart mouth over dinner."

"Please, I need to, I'll... I'll make it worth your while, please just let me." Your voice sounded alien as you spoke, the words leaving your mouth in the desperate hope he’d take pity on you but to no avail. Your attempts at bartering served only to frustrate him, anger him even and he Ransom backed away, roughly pulling you to the edge of the bed before stripping out of his sweater and undershirt, the undeniable outline of his hard cock along his thigh strained against his wool slacks. 

Harsh in his grip, he repositioned himself between your legs, your thighs across his shoulders, ass dangling above the floor as a heavy arm kept you still. His flat tongue, hot and full of your sex was eating away at you while his final throws of resolve ate away at him.

“I’m done playing fucking games.” he growled against your aching cunt “I should have gagged you, stuffed my cock deep into the back of your throat, something, anything to shut you up.”

You barely had time to register his words before once more you were flat out against the mattress, trying to regain your breath and calm yourself down when he backed away, tore open his flies and smirked down at you.

"Oh no, Sweetheart, we're not done yet."  He kneeled beside you, his chest heaving, hair completely out of place, anger and wait, was that pain, flickering in his eyes as he stuffed you with a hard thrust of his length. "Now you’re gonna cum on this dick."

He thrusted hard and within a few slams of his hips against yours, he allowed you the release you were begging for, "that's right, Princess, cum on my cock." 

You wept at the feeling finally freeing you, cries of pleasure spilling from your lips as you squeezed around him. Your chest heaving against his, skin to skin. The fabric of his wool pants hot and itchy against your inner thighs. He was still thrusting but now it had slowed to a roll, slow and calculated. Your muddled mind was buzzing and rapidly trying to sort out if he'd cum inside you or if he wasn't finished. His features were softer, but still filled with purpose and his lips latched onto a naked breast causing your body to react, tingles and flames licking at your core again. His eyes looked up at yours as he caged you in, still buried deep inside you, hips rolling. 

"I said we weren't done," he rasped. His thrusts and rolls, the two very different tactics mixing now, made the swell of his cock inside you abhorrently pleasurable. Try as you might, it was impossible to feel otherwise. 

And Ransom was finding it equally as hard to hold on. His weight was evenly distributed over her, his cock swelling inside her heat. It took all he had not to blow his load the first time he made her cum, hearing the sinful sounds of her orgasm that felt like a volcanic eruption around his hard shaft. But now he could feel her again, tiny little pulses around his already overtly sensitive dick. He was sure his precum was leaking out, wanting to paint the way for the rest of him to follow. He rolled and thrust as his lips nipped at her neck. She moaned loudly, her body exuding lust. He could feel her shake beneath him and to his delight and surprise her eyes were no longer screwed shut and turned away. Instead they were locked on his. The moment those deep hued orbs met his, he felt a hitch in his breath and tightness in his chest that travelled through his belly and into his cock, causing the thick member to throb inside her. Tiny, soft hands gripped at his biceps, her touch a fiery scald against his skin, almost as if it were frost bite. Her touch equally shocking as her stare and he gave a roll of his hips to hide what he felt. A deep, satiated roll of his hips that sent her over the edge. 

"Hugh!" She came around him, harder than her first, crying out his given name. It snapped him from his moment of revelation, driving him insanely frustrated at the word leaving her lips. He slammed into her as she rode out her orgasm, chasing his own. 

You felt the dismissal of his body as he violently pulled free from your walls, spewing his hot seed over your abdomen, drops claiming your tits too. He nearly collapsed, his dick in hand, the other holding himself up against the mattress between your legs. 

He left you there, dirty, degraded and shut the door with a barked instruction for you to clean yourself up. You no longer cried in front of him, either before, during or after. There was no point. He didn’t care about how you felt, but the thing he DID seem to care about was the fact that you still refused to call him Ransom. 

It was the one thing you held on to, the only thing that gave you an inch of control in this entire fucked up situation. You hadn’t missed the look on his face when you’d cried out 'Hugh' in the throes of your last orgasm. Before that moment there had been a softness in his eyes, one that had unnerved you no end, along with something that had looked suspiciously like hope. But when his given name had tumbled involuntarily from your mouth and not the one he preferred that softness had turned to contempt and you didn't miss the undercurrent of disappointment either.

And seeing that, knowing that it pissed him off and dare you say it, upset him so much was your single, albeit feeble, act of rebellion that served as a desperate boost to your ever waning inner strength. *****

Ransom laid in his large, plush bed, hands behind his head as the silk sheets pooled at his waist as morning was in full swing outside. His thoughts strayed to his girl in the basement and he took a deep breath, shifting slightly as he remembered the way her fingers had felt as they’d curled around his biceps, her touch firey but cold. That had been the first time she’d touched him when she wasn’t trying to push him away, it had been involuntary, he knew that, a reaction to the way she’d been feeling, the way he had made her feel. 

A twitch resounded deep in his belly....the way he made her feel.

He realised now that he’d been going about this the entirely wrong way. The force had been necessary to make her comply at first, but last night she hadn’t just complied she’d participated, just what he had wanted all along. And all after he’d shown her a little leeway, brought her dinner, entertained her talk. He understood now that he needed to play a different card from his hand. She responded better to conversation, talking. Ransom hated fucking talking, he was more cerebral, calculating. Conversation means connecting, and connecting was something he wasn’t particularly interested in normally. He needed to lead, to be in charge, but it was clearly what she knew and thrived on, so he had to swallow his apprehension down to play the long game, to get what he wanted. 

Now he understood that, it was going to be so fucking easy. All he had to do was to seemingly show her compassion, a little give so he could take so to speak. He rolled his head, cracking his neck as he remembered what she said about cooking with her mom so he decided that after her stellar performance last night, today she’d earned a bigger reward than a book or some journal. He was going to show her what she could have if she just gave in and admitted what he knew she truly wanted. A large house, a garden, a pool, a hot tub, silk sheets, a large bed, and a man to fuck her every way to heaven and back. He could give her everything that any woman could possibly desire, and then some.

With a twitch of a smirk across his lips, Ransom pulled his naked frame out of bed and slipped into joggers, a soft waffle knit thermal long sleeve pulled over his tousled hair. He felt like company for breakfast and he knew exactly to invite up. 

His bare feet padded with purpose over the plush carpet of his room, down the stairs and onto the first floor, over the hard wood and marble tile of the halls and entry, down the plush carpeted spiral staircase down to the basement.

He reached the door and gently turned the locks, quietly pushing the door open as he turned the knob. It opened quietly and his eyes fell upon the empty bed. He frowned slightly, wondering where she was. Then his eyes found her, sitting curled up with her eyes cast upward, that little tease of a porthole window in her focus. She'd turned her chair around so she could see it more clearly, the throw blanket he'd tossed at her the week before was wrapped around her body. He didn't know the time, but it wasn't early nor was it afternoon. Not that it mattered, neither had anywhere else to be.

"Good morning," he said lowly. He watched as her eyes slowly moved away from the only bit of outside world she'd seen for weeks now.

"Morning," she replied quietly, her eyes locking onto his. "I err, I was just..." she trailed off. "Actually, I don't know what I was doing to be honest."

He stalked up to the chair, kneeling in front her. His hand reached up and cupped her cheek, his thumb running over her cheek bone. "You were such a good girl last night. Took me so well, teased me with that little number you had on. I've thought about you all morning."

Ransom watched her throat bob as she swallowed before licking her lips and biting the inside corner of her lip. Such an innocent gesture that had him half hard straight away.

"I want to give you something. But you have to be good, or it goes away," he started. "Can you be good, Sweetheart?"

She nodded, slightly. "Okay," he smirked. "Now, fix the chair and come up to make us breakfast."

Ransom stood back, allowing you some space to accommodate his request. You slipped the throw blanket from your shoulders and left it in the chair as you rearranged the piece back to its normal state. You met him at the doorway. You didn't miss the way his eyes moved over you, the way they lit up in a way at as he looked at the silken material covering your body. The dark teal silk and lace cami set was just one of a handful of options he'd provided for you. All the same, different colors, all in your size. 

You hesitated for a second, not sure if this was another one of his little games but he simply met your eyes with his own and nodded up the stairs. With tentative, shaky steps you climbed them, sensing him close behind you as for the first time in weeks you left your prison.  You felt anxious, highly on edge and nervous. What was awaiting you? There was the sickening feeling in your stomach of excitement too, you hadn’t seen the outside since Halloween. You paused at the top of the stairs in the hall. The kitchen was directly across from you, the entry to your right. The door to the basement clicked shut and you felt Ransom’s firm chest behind your back as his form invaded your space. He dragged a finger down your arm causing the strap of your top to fall away, placing a soft kiss on your shoulder.

"Straight ahead, Sweetheart."

“Okay,” you whispered before you slowly made your way through to the large, airy kitchen. You stood looking around, taking in the fancy appliances before you turned back to Ransom. "Did you have something in mind?”

"Well..." Ransom leaned in the doorway, watching you as you stood in the middle of the tiled floor "Yesterday wasn't the first time you said you enjoyed to cook so I thought you might like to." His eyes flicked once more down your frame and back up again before he nodded his head towards the rear of the room. “Anything you need is in the pantry and fridge.”

“And I can make anything I want?” You blinked, not quite able to believe what he was allowing you to do. It was fucked up that you were even considering this as a reward but, you’d take it. Boy would you take it, anything to grasp some sense of normality in this day-by-day hell you were living.

“Sure.” Ransom popped a shoulder again and you took a deep breath before you turned and headed to the sink to wash your hands before sorting out your menu and you froze. The outside landscape had stopped you cold. From what you could see of the back garden the property was secluded, not over looked. A lawn extended a fair distance back from the rear of the house, a neat decking area stood to the right which sported a hot tub and a little further down there looked to be a pool of some kind which was covered over for the season. Trees hung over the bottom of the garden lining the high wooden fence, what few leaves they still sported were shades of crimson, gold and brown and the river traced it’s banks as it curved around the side and back of the house, the sun shining off the surface, giving it the impression it was made of sapphires. It was breathtakingly beautiful and you felt your heart shatter, your eyes well and you couldn't help but hold back the urge to weep as your chest contracted painfully. You were so close to the outside, separated only by a pane of glass, yet it had never felt further away.

His voice broke you from your despair and you swallowed back the sob that choked your throat as you flicked your attention to the left, Ransom's reflection drawing closer towards you as he crossed the terracotta tiled floor.

"Everything alright?"

You cleared your throat and gave a quick shake of your head, "Fine."

Again you felt him in your space. His presence consuming. “You sure?”

Sure? No you weren’t sure. Because none of this was fine, in fact it was as far from fine as it could possibly get. In that moment you wanted nothing more than to spin round and hammer your fists into any part of his body you could hit but you knew that it wouldn't get you anywhere, bar back in the basement likely shackled naked to the bed so you instead turned slowly to find yourself caged in by his broad frame so close to yours. You cast your eyes downward, uncomfortable at his searching stare, "Yeah, I’m sure.”

Your tongue flicked nervously over your lips as you continued to avoid his gaze before you cleared your throat “How do you like your eggs? Or would you prefer an omelette? Pancakes even?" The urge to move away from him pulled you away from your idea of a menu. Brunch basics were flooding your brain and you rattled off a few nervously. He may have said you could make whatever you wanted, but right now, you had no clue. Seeing a different space, the outside world and breathing new air had rattled you.

“You choose.” Ransom spoke softly, his hand reaching up to brush your hair off your face before he tipped your chin up so your eyes met his. He looked at you, and you swallowed as for the first time there was something unreadable on his face. His eyes were looking at you in a way they’d never looked at you before, with a softness you’d never have anticipated he could possess.

"Waffles." You suddenly blurted out, desperate to escape his gaze "I err, do you have a waffle iron?”

“No.” He deadpanned.

"Oh," you swallowed "Erm, then in that case French toast...maybe? Is that ok?"

“Sounds delicious.” He said, his hand dropping from your face, “Sure it’ll taste almost as good as you.”

“Great. How about with fresh Chantilly cream and berries if you have them?” You asked, completely ignoring his blatant back handed compliment and you started familiarizing yourself with the space as you glanced around.

“Like I said, whatever you want, Sweetheart.” He shrugged, and with that he stepped back to allow you to move away.

Ransom watched her move around the luxurious kitchen, looking through the pantry and cabinet near the stove taking out cinnamon and vanilla, plucking items like bread, butter, eggs, berries and cream from the fridge. Searching drawers for utensils and measuring cups and spoons. Finding a pan and bowl from a bottom cabinet. Measuring sugar from the glass jar on the counter. He hoped the ingredients were still fresh, he wasn't exactly sure how long they'd been stored. She moved like she belonged there, he thought to himself. So sexy looking in her nightwear, bare feet on the tile, her ass and breasts moving underneath the silk as she stretched and worked. 

"Coffee?" He offered, as he moved from one side to the other. He made sure his exquisite espresso machine was ready as it sat in all its glory on its own portion of the counter like a batista station inside Starbucks. 

He didn't miss the way she watched him move around her, preparing the coffee and grabbing the orange juice from the fridge. He reached over her shoulder, his body brushing against hers as he opened the cupboard where he kept the glasses and mugs. He peered down at her, giving a twitch to the corner of his mouth. A smirk indeed. He noted the way her eyes followed him as he poured the juice, like he was going to poison her or something. 

"It's just juice, Sweetheart," he said nonchalantly and put the juice back in the fridge. He set the breakfast table for them and took a seat in his place, a now hot cup of coffee in his hand, hers sitting on the counter next to her. 

It wasn’t long before she had finished and brought the plates to the table, sitting down timidly in the seat to his right as he gestured to it, stopping her dead as she was about to make her way around to the opposite side.

It was quiet, the only sounds heard for a while were the click and scrape of forks and knives cutting away at the plates of food. Ransom wouldn't admit it out loud, but this was the best French toast he'd ever had in his life. Something about it, the way it was not soggy, but perfectly moist, the edges just crispy. The way the cream made for no syrup and the sweet berries added the final element. He watched her pick at the food for a moment or two as he glanced over at her and saw a small bit of Chantilly in the corner of her mouth.

A long arm reached across the table and automatically she flinched a little, as if she was going to pull away but one firm stare stopped her in her tracks. His thick thumb padded away the white, sweet cream and he brought the same thumb to his lips, sucking the cream away. He lifted his brows in a teasing manner and twitched up his lips, "Delicious. Like I said, almost as good as you, Sweetheart."

"Thanks, I think," she paused. 

"Trust me, I know."

The comment seemingly threw her off her meal and it didn't get past Ransom. She had started picking at it, moving it around the plate like she had done with her dinner the night before. He, on the other hand, was near finished. 

"Are you still not hungry?" He inquired. 

She shook her head, "I just made my portion too big. I overestimated my appetite, I guess."

"Huh," he placated her reply. He knew she was lying but he let it slide, realizing that seeing a new space, the window to the outside was overwhelming. So, he thought he'd sweeten the deal. "I thought maybe you'd like to see the house," he offered, watching as her big eyes locked onto his and she took a deep breath.

"That sounds nice, thank you."

"Good, after breakfast then." He nodded affirmingly, as if it were drying ink in his mind. He picked up his coffee and finished it off, his plate already clear. 

She stood from the table, collecting his plate with her own and headed for the sink. He turned in his chair, stalking her, watching her every move. The way she pitched over the sink, bending her frame over the dishwasher to load it as she cleaned up the kitchen. 

With each bend and snap of her hips, he felt his mouth water more. Her little silk cami riding up as she moved, her breasts falling in and out of a fuller view. When she tucked a stray hair behind her ear, he was on her. He moved behind her, his hands grabbed her hips as she spun around completely startled giving a gasp and a quick yelp. 

"Easy, Sweetheart," he chuckled as she looked at him, her eyes wide.

"Sorry... you, err...you startled me." She whispered as he moved his hands so they gripped at the side of the kitchen counter on either side of her, caging her in with his body.

"Some women would like that," he quipped, arching an eyebrow a little and watched as she swallowed hard and cast her eyes downward. Moving one hand slowly up her arm, over her shoulder and around her neck, he tipped her head back up so those large, Bambi eyes locked onto his.

His hand adjusted, gripping her chin softly as he moved closer still, dipping his head he pressed a firm kiss to her lips. He felt her go rigid, her chest spiking as she drew in a sharp breath, her body shaking slightly in his hold. "Stop fighting it..." he whispered against her mouth before he kissed her again. This time, his tongue traced the line of her upper lip, the feel of it soft and soothing.

You felt his tongue line your lip and you couldn't hold the whimper of fear that passed through you. He’d never kissed you before, not on the mouth anyway. You felt him deepen his kiss, his big hand cupping your face, pulling you into it more. Your mind went elsewhere, imagining anyone but him kissing you like this. You couldn't deny it, this intimate moment, completely lost on both of you for different reasons, felt good and he was good at it. He was damn good at it in fact, and that alone made you want to vomit your breakfast into his throat. At that, you jerked back, panting a little, feeling your lips swollen from the way he'd sucked your bottom one between his, pulling at it just the right way. You hated the feeling between your legs that it had evoked, your body betraying you just like it always did.

In an attempt to stave off the conflicting emotions spiking within you, you focussed on his face, the face you hated and to your surprise he looked dazed. The usual stoic expression that clouded his features had been replaced with something akin to surprise but no sooner had you noticed it, it was gone.

"Clean up and I'll meet you in the study." He told you, his voice a deep almost pained whisper. 

"But I don't..." you started but were quickly cut off. 

"You're a smart girl, figure it out," he smirked and slipped away. 

You were tempted to follow, just so you'd see where he was going but you knew not to defy a command. The feeling of unease seemed to disappear as you slumped your shoulders and instead defeat filled your frame. A trembling hand came to your lips as jittery fingertips touched your swollen skin. Your bottom lip quivered like a ripple in a river and you quickly covered your mouth, turning on a dime as your French toast littered the sink. If the water hadn't been running already, Ransom would no doubt have heard you retching. You rinsed your mouth out to attempt at hiding that vomit taste from your tongue and quickly finished your task of cleaning up the kitchen, salty tears dripping from your chin, mixing with the soapy water. 

When you could stall no longer, you sighed and headed out into the large hallway, taking a quick look around. It was light, airy, the grand staircase swept in and curved round to the next floor and your eyes lingered on the heavy wooden door just beyond it. You hesitated, and then with a dejected sigh realised there was no point even trying to escape. Even if it was unlocked, which you doubted, the threat to your family was just too much for you to risk. Instead, you decided to head down the corridor to your right and found yourself in a large open plan living room of sorts. It was decorated in clean whites and crisp greys with a huge feature stone open fireplace and sported a bar at the back. A brown leather sofa and two matching arm chairs were strategically placed around an expensive looking coffee table but you didn’t bother to look at the rest, this wasn’t the room you needed so you turned back on yourself, walked back into the hall and took the turning to your left.

This time you found yourself walking into what you could only assume was his study-come-den of sorts. It was huge, and once again sported a sofa pushed up against the wall, looking out over the spectacular view of not only the garden but the river too. But that wasn’t what caught your attention, nor was it the walnut desk and laptop that sat upon it. It was the floor to ceiling bookshelf behind it. Your mouth dropped open as you made your way towards it but then you stopped, biting your lip. Were you supposed to be looking at them? But, he had said to meet you in here. And left you to find your own way.  Surely, if he didn’t want you looking around he wouldn’t have left you to it.

Throwing caution to the wind you strode forward, your pace hurried this time and your eyes quickly scanned across some of the books. You couldn’t help but feel shocked. Whilst there was a huge collection of his Grandfather’s books, and a number of other crime novels of types, it was the colourful spines to your right that made your chest heave in delight. The entire Harry Potter collection. With a shaky hand you reached for The Philosopher’s Stone, noting the British version of the title, and opened the front page giving another gasp as you read the publishing details.

This was a first edition.  And from the date you also knew it would be one that contained the misprint errors. And as such, would be worth a small fortune.

“See something you like?” that familiar voice hit your ears and you gave a little shriek, jumping around, clutching the book to your chest to avoid dropping it.

“I’m sorry.” You hastily began to apologise “I was just…erm…”

“It’s ok.” He assured you, crossing towards you. Once more he encroached into your personal space and you felt the blades of your shoulders press into the shelf behind you. “Harry Potter fan?”

“Yeah.” You nodded, “Didn’t think they’d be your type of thing.

“They’re not really.” He shrugged “I’m a collector. Everything on the shelves, well they’re all first or limited editions, so worth a lot.”

“Figures.” You mumbled, turning round and slotting the book back into the space it had come from. As you did you felt him push up behind you, his hands on your hips, the unmistakable feel of his hard on dug into the lower part of your back and you fought to stop yourself shuddering. He was after pay-back for allowing you to leave your prison.

“Did you like the house?” he asked, brushing your hair off your neck.

“Yes.” You answered politely, your voice catching a little as he placed a kiss to the crook of your shoulder.

“You know, it could all be yours sweetheart if you just stopped fighting what you know you want” His kisses continued up your neck as his words whirled around your brain and you were back to where you had been in the kitchen. It felt good. And that disgusted you.

“Did you enjoy making breakfast?” he whispered, his lips by your ear.

“Yeah.” You nodded, your voice barely there.

“Show me how much.” His teeth nipped at your lobe, his hips grinding forward and you swallowed and closed your eyes. You knew what he wanted but as you turned to face him you had an idea. One which would save you being fucked no doubt over the desk or on the hard looking couch.

With a lick of your lips you looked at him and sank slowly to your knees, taking his sweats with you. His hard cock sprang free, slapping his lower abs and you reached out, grasping it in your hand.

“Fuck, yeah baby…” Ransom hissed as you moved your head forwards and took him in your mouth.

You pulled out all the moves, you took him as deep as you could, gagging a little as he wasn’t a small man. You kept your hand firmly on the base of his cock, you hollowed your lips, you swirled your tongue around his shaft and he let out a little groan his hand fisting in your hair as his hips bucked forwards.

“Jesus, I knew your mouth was smart but…” he panted, looking down at you. You raised your eyes to look at his as he bit his lip, his entire face contorted in pleasure…

Pleasure that was ruined by the sound of the doorbell.

 “What the fuck…” Ransom growled out, un-fisting his hand from her hair. “Who the fuck is that?”

He glanced down at her and she looked up at him, wide eyed. She was a mess, swollen lips, wet chin and dressed in nothing but her skimpy tank and shorts. With a frustrated growl, Ransom pulled his dick out of her mouth and grabbed his phone from the table to check the doorbell camera. His face blanched as he saw who it was.

“I don’t fucking believe it…” he mumbled, as she looked up at him.

“Who is it?” She asked, wiping her face, “I’m not exactly dressed for visitors, Hugh.”

Ransom might have been pre-occupied with the familiar face staring at him from his phone, but he still picked up on that 'Hugh' and he glared down at her. “No shit, and because we have a visitor, I'm gonna let that one slide. Get up.” She rose to her feet, blinking a little as he pulled off the thermal he was wearing and tossed it to her. “Put that on. No one gets to see you in silk but me.”

She blinked as she caught it, confusion spreading across her face. “Don’t you just want me to go-“

In a flash, he grabbed her chin between his thumb and finger and she winced, “If I wanted you downstairs I’d have said. So put the damn shirt on, and when he starts asking questions just remember what I said I could do to your family and friends.”

In complete complacency, he watched her slip his thermal over her head, her fingers barely peeking through the sleeves to fix her dishevelled hair. The material hit her mid-thigh and his eyes brows gave a flicker of approval before he walked to the entry and opened the door. "What do you want?"

"Pleasure to see you too, Mr. Drysdale..." that infuriating Southern drawl hit Ransom's ears with all the finesse of a cheese-grater. Benoit Blanc, without so much as a gesture of request, pushed past Ransom as he strode inside, stopping in the tiled entry, looking around.

"Do you have a warrant?" The man of the house snipped in his usual spiteful tone.

Blanc still didn’t reply, and Ransom rolled his eyes following him as he wandered down the hallway, stopping at the open door to the study. "Well, if it isn't the lady of the hour."

Ransom stood behind Blanc, an infuriatingly warning glare sent his girl's way. He noted the way she was sitting on the couch, her legs tucked underneath her, lips still swollen, cheeks flushed, hair tousled. She looked like a sex kitten, and maybe that was the idea. He warned her to sell it after all…

"Excuse me?” Y/N looked up at the two men in the doorway. 

Blanc stepped inside the room, taking a seat on the edge of the same couch where she sat. "I've been looking for you, young lady. A lot of people are looking for you, you know Miss Y/L/N.”

“I errr…” she swallowed a little as she slowly got to her feet, her hands pulling the hem of the thermal down before she folded her arms across her chest, not in a defiant manner, but almost as if she was hugging herself “Did someone send you or…”

“No, nothing like that. You see, I heard you'd gone missing, and I knew you had a work connection to Mr. Drysdale, that, shall we say didn't go quite as planned. So when things started adding up, I thought to ask the man himself."

“Well, congratulations, this is one mystery you actually solved correctly, Sherlock. As you can see she’s here and she’s fine, and we were in the middle of something, so if you don’t mind….” Ransom folded his arms, his eyes moving from hers to Blanc, who was irritatingly completely ignoring him, his gaze focussed intently on the woman who stood in front of him.

Ransom could see him take her in fully, now seeing the situation he may have just walked in on. She looked dishevelled and was missing crucial parts of her clothing, but she had no tears in her eyes, no markings looking to be of abuse or out of the ordinary. None that were visible anyway. Blanc’s gaze then dragged over to Ransom who was bare foot in joggers and still half aroused, which he did nothing to hide as he folded his arms over his naked chest.

Ransom held Blanc’s gaze, his chin jutting out defiantly, the detective only looking away when the lady of the hour spoke, her voice quiet, as she gave a small nod. "He’s right, I’m fine."

"Then why not tell your family where you are?”

“I err…” Y/N’s right hand gripped he cuff of the sweater sleeve tightly, “I just, well, I…”

Ransom could see that she was losing it and he knew he had to intervene. He walked over to her and placed an arm around her, kissing the top of her head lightly, "It's alright, Sweetheart. I know how he can be frustrating. We're doing nothing wrong."

With that he turned his gaze to the man in front of him, not even trying to hide the sneer of contempt that was crossing his face “I have neither the time nor the crayons to explain this to you Blanc.”

“Well, maybe Miss Y/L/N has some crayons hidden up her sleeve so to speak.” Blanc smiled innocently and Ransom felt the anger floor his system.

“You’re starting to really piss me off.” he snarled, “You barge into my home, without so much of an explanation…” his rant was stopped dead as Y/N placed her hand on his chest, palm splaying over his bare skin. Ransom swallowed at the touch of her fingers against his skin, firey hot just as they had been last night when they curled around his arms.

"Hey," she spoke and he looked down to see her giving him a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes but one that should be enough to convince the dumbass detective who was watching them. "It's okay." She then turned to Blanc as he held his hand up, palm open, speaking to Ransom.

“I’m not trying to be frustrating Mr. Drysdale, I'm merely enquiring after Miss Y/L/N’s wellbeing."

"I'm not here under duress if that's what you're thinking.” She spoke, clearing her throat. “Hu… Ra, we have had to keep our relationship private,” she stumbled on the right identity, settling for 'we'. Clearing her throat again and settling her nerves, she continued, "Mr. Blanc, as you well know, I'm reporter and his background has been less than stellar as of late. It no doubt would not look good for either of us if it had come to light. My reputation as a journalist would have been in tatters.”

“Well, lies and deception certainly go hand in hand when it comes to Mr. Drysdale...”

Ransom rolled his eyes dramatically “Change the record, Blanc. The static is a little loud.”

Blanc completely ignored him, his attention still on her. “So you caused all this worry, because of some…” he waved his hand in front of him, gesturing between the pair of them. 

Ransom’s arm curled round her even tighter, his fingers pressing into her hip and he felt her stiffen a little before she relaxed into his side and gave a small nod.

"Like I said, it wouldn’t have gone down well with my family, or my career.”

“Ahh, yes, your job, which you quit.” Blanc looked at her. “Yes, I spoke to your boss.” He answered her unasked question. “Why would you be so worried for your reputation as a journalist, if you’re not actually a journalist anymore?”

At that she took a deep breath “I quit the paper because my boss is an asshole. His antics on Halloween were a step too far. But that doesn’t mean I have no intentions of working ever again. I'm currently taking a long overdue sabbatical.”

Blanc studied her again, almost as if he was weighing something up and she once more began to fidget and Ransom decided he’d had enough.

"Okay, I’m done being polite,” Ransom moved his arm from around his girl and stepped towards Blanc, placing himself directly between the detective and the woman. “You've interrupted out little post brunch love affair and I’m horny, so…do you need help finding the door, or can your super sleuth skills figure the way back out of it on their own?”

“Miss Y/L/N?” Blanc spoke, his eyes locked onto Ransom’s. Ransom felt the nerve in his jaw twitch, the fact that Blanc wasn’t scared of him irritated him no end.

There was a pause and then her voice came clearly from behind him as she spoke, “If you'd be so kind as to not tell my family where I am, I'd appreciate it. I prefer this time without their unwanted opinion.”  Her voice was steady, measured almost. “You can tell them that you've found me, alive and well."

Blanc knew he wasn't welcome, he had proof of life and no reason to suspect foul play. He stood, his long wool coat falling into place around him. "Well, then I guess my work is done." He brushed passed Ransom and gave a quick quip, "I'm warning you...." 

"What was that?" His girl wondered. She'd heard him. 

"Have a nice day," Blanc nodded curtly “I’ll see myself out.”  

You watched the back of the detective as he left the large living room, Ransom following him to the doorway where he stood, arms folded, watching. The sound of Blanc’s feet on the tiles of the hallway grew fainter and fainter until eventually they stopped completely.  The latch of the door sounded and you fell to the closest thing you could sit on. Your while body shook with a chill that crept into your bones but not from the cold. No, you were sick to your stomach in fear and worry. The bile of deceit rose to your throat and had you not already spewed up your breakfast it would have most likely decorated the carpet of the study.  Instead, you swallowed down the sour bile as Drysdale approached you and you glanced up at him, blinking whilst he studied you for a second, his face passive. As you held his gaze, something akin to amusement flashed in his cold blue eyes and a twisted smirk spread across his face.

“Your acting skills certainly improved there along the way, at the end you were almost award worthy.” He drawled, his hands falling to his hips. “Even Meryl Streep would be jealous.”

"Fuck you," your voice quivered.

He arched an eyebrow, an amused expression on his features “Already played that game Sweetheart, and carry on back-chatting me and you’ll be back in the basement.”

"Wh... What?"

"You pulled through in the end there. It was a rough start, but you convinced Colonel Sanders that you were here on your own."

“Colonel Sanders?” You blinked, “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Blanc. CSI KFC.” He replied. You were none the wiser as to what he was going on about and it must have shown on your face as he simply rolled his eyes. "Never mind...the point is, sweetheart, I'm in a good mood. And seeing as you behaved...”

"What?" Your voice was quiet, meek.

"If you shut that pretty little mouth for longer than a second, I'll explain." His tone was measured but you didn’t miss the underlying threat.

“Sorry.” Your eyes fell to the floor, your left hand worrying at your right.

“Eyes on me.” He barked and your head whipped up automatically and he smirked at you as you took a deep breath. “As I was saying, seeing as you were such a good girl, I thought I’d reward you, let you stay up here with me for the day.”

The notion shocked you. Your mouth went dry and you couldn't make sense of it. But then, the more you thought about it, the more his audacity irked you. He’d imprisoned you, used you, abused you…and now he was implying that staying in his company was a fucking reward.

“Wow, thanks…” you blurted before you could stop yourself, sarcasm lacing your tone. As soon as the words had slipped from your mouth you felt panic flood your system as he stepped towards you and reached out, his right hand curling around your throat.

"Don’t push me sweetheart.” His voice was low as his fingers squeezed the column of your neck, a reminder of how easily he could simply end it all whenever he chose. 

And just like that the softness that he had displayed with you earlier that morning was gone, and the shutters were back up. You swallowed hard, feeling the strain of your throat against his touch, his eyes now dark and full of that familiar angry lust and desire that chilled you from head to toe. Blanc had riled him, gotten underneath his skin, that was easy to see while your mouthy comments fuelled that ire. And as such, he needed an escape, an outlet.

And he was going to get it from you.

“Now on your knees and finish what you started."

**** Part 4

[lesducks]

Hi you seem like a good person to ask this lol, do you have any good horror movie recs?

okok SO: i don’t know what you’ve already seen/your fear tolerance levels ahdksjd so i’ll try and do not super scary ones,,,

- everyone following me for more than 20 seconds will not be surprised by this but, any of the scream movies. they’re all amazing. it’s funny. there’s great kills. the first three are 90s-early 2000s so the effects are very minimal and not that gory while still being horror, it’s a great introductory to slashers !!

- ready or not: it’s a horror comedy. it’s camp. it doesn’t make any sense. it’s about a woman being miserable and covered in blood for two hours and then entitled rich people die. what more could you want 😌

- the fear street trilogy!! this one is more heavy on the gore, but truly the plot is great and i love the characters and also it has sadie sink.

- nightmare on elm street, it’s still a slasher but it leans more into paranormal elements (and paranormal is not my forte so this list will be lacking that a bit agdkdh)

- halloween is a classic, although it has the longest fucking opening credits ive ever seen in my life. anyways, again, the effects are terrible, but it’s still great. it invented autumn aesthetic

- debating on whether this is horror or not because, to me it’s. not. but the craft! it’s about if mean girls was with witches

- jennifer’s body. imagine if a teenage girl got cursed by Evil my chemical romance and started killing men while her best friend/girlfriend who she’s in a codependent relationship with tries to kill her and then make it aggressively 2009. it’s very fun i love it

- carrie, it invented the ‘good for her’ trope. i don’t think it did but in my heart it did

- again debating whether this is horror, BUT anna and the apocalypse! it’s a comedy/zombie/christmas/musical, like imagine if zombieland was a musical

- also then i guess adding this is me adding zombieland to the recommendations ahdkshd it’s a zombie/comedy movie and the sequel has one of my favourite film characters ever she’s so funny