#so I feel like you’d have to have done something pretty diabolical

[icedthoma]

wait the “nice guy who hates only you” reverse trope prompt would be so fucking funny with thoma do you see the vision 😭😭

[eartht137]

FOR THE BETTER pt. III

Oh curvies I have another part to put up for you. I'm hoping this is enjoyable please feel free to leave feedback, I need it lol. Not too much to say about this chapter except here ya go. I had fun writing more about Lois in this chapter and giving her perspective a bit about the whole "friendship" so let me know so I can improve. Alright read away love ya MMMMwwwwahhhhh!!!

Summary: Clark and Y/n have been spending a lot of time together. Y/n has asked Clark to invite Lois along but she hardly ever shows up. Y/n doesn't think much of it, but she should, because Lois wants time with her man and Y/n is in the way. How will Clark handle the distance though?

Dark Clark Kent x Black!Plus Size Reader

Over the next few weeks you and Clark spent almost everyday together, and you were starting to feel a bit bad that Lois hadn't been able to join, but a handful of times. Clark spent every moment he had available working to get you to fully trust him and you finally relented to having movie night at his place.

"Hey bestie." You greeted as you removed you jacket.

"I was thinking, I want to take you out one day." he commented from his couch as you began moving around his kitchen to start making dinner.

"Uh, no." You said calmly.

"You do realize I've only seen you your uniform, casual clothes, and pajamas. I've never seen you dressed up."

"Well tough luck Kent," You said pointing a big metal spoon at him. "I don't do dress up." You said sticking your nose in the air.

"You don't do a lot of things." He complained under his breath. You held the cooking spoon to your chest and calmly walked in front of him. "It is my job in my life and the next to give you the biggest amount of grief and shit since you made the decision to bulldoze your way into my blissful loneliness." he erupted into a fit of laughter as you spoke in your overly proper accent. "Furthermore, I shall repeat my earlier sentiment. I don't do dress up. Now, Mr. Kent, I am preparing our meal and you shall behave if you want dessert." You said holding you overly proper dramatic demeanor.

"Dessert?" He asked biting his lip, his mind traveling to dangerous thoughts.

"Oh yes, a quite delightful dessert-a mortal weakness of mine." You said in a dramatically evil way, rubbing your hands together as if you'd created something diabolical.

"Oh god here we go." Clark said pinching the bridge of his nose.

"CHOCOLATE!!!!" You both yelled out together, you added and evil laugh at the end and walked like Igor to the stove, rubbing circles on the glass.

"Yes, yes, bake my pretty's and we shall take over this world-TOGETHER!!!" You definitely had Clark in tears of laughter. A slow clap brought him out of his euphoric laughter. You both looked and saw Lois standing in the door way and she didn't seem too happy. You assumed it was because of work.

"Hey Lois." You said cheerfully not really noticing how she was looking between you and Clark.

"What's going on?" She asked folding her arms across her chest.

"It's movie night." You said excited that she was there. "Come, come. I show you." You said getting back in character to cheer her up. You Igor walked with her back to the kitchen making her laugh even though she was upset and didn't want to. You opened the stove and showed her the dessert. "Shh shh, no one must know of my plan." You said rubbing your hands together evilly.

"What plan?" She asked confused.

"To take over the world with CHOCOLATE!!!" You said throwing your hands in the air adding the evil laugh at the end.

"Go, go you must go and prepare yourself." You said shooing her away.

"Prepare myself?" she asked even more confused.

"For movie night. A night of terrifying, horrible, scary-wait, what are we watching again?" you asked Clark. He said a movie you hated and you immediately deflated laying on the floor in tantrum style. "You said we wouldn't watch that one. No wait, its our viewer of honors turn to choose. Lois, you don't know how great it is to have you for movie night!" you said jumping up genuinely excited. She couldn't help but smile because she could see you didn't have bad intentions, but the same couldn't be said for Clark. She really didn't know what his deal was. She questioned him from the beginning when he began to talk about you and your work. She didn't think much of it at first, even when he invited you for dinner at his mom's, she honestly thought he was just being nice because you were a loner in his class, but when the movie nights and friend outings overshadowed their relationship, that's when she realized something else was up. She saw the long stares and smiles at you, she remembered when he used to look at her that way. The only thing that kept her certain that he still loved her was that he hadn't told you his biggest secret. Your gasp startled them out of there stare down.

"I forgot the whipped cream." You said urgently.

"There's some in the fridge." Clark said pointing at the refrigerator. You put your hands on your hips and glared at him.

"Is it cool whip?" You asked waiting for his answer and his silence was answer enough. "Its alright, I'll go get some."

"You most certainly will not. I'll go get some. I'll be right back."

"Woah dude, you're forgetting the cash." You said fishing in your pocket for money. He chuckled, ruffled your fro, and left. "Dude, I said not the mop." you said fixing your hair.

"So..." Lois said a bit awkwardly as you walked back to the kitchen.

So, how's everything at the Daily Planet going? Clark was telling me you were on this really big blow up article. I can help. I can go and get info that way you don't have to and you can spend more time with Clark." You said with a smile.

"Yeah, lets talk about that, spending more time with Clark. How about you back off a bit and not spend so much time with him."

"Oh-I...." You trailed off feeling a bit uncomfortable. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize-I....I didn't know, honest, but you're absolutely right. I'm so sorry." You said genuinely feeling bad that Clark hadn't been spending time with her as you thought. You respected that she needed him and even though you tried to avoid it, you figured something like that would happen. "Should-do you want me to leave?" You asked not wanting to make her uncomfortable.

"No, stay, just....I need him too. Tonight's okay, but just a couple of weeks? I need him to myself." she said hoping you'd understand.

"I completely understand." you said continuing to prepare the meal for the evening. You really wanted to leave, but you didn't want to make everything awkward. When Clark made it back, Lois was able to keep up the act, you weren't. Clark could tell right off something was up, even when you kept saying you were okay, he could tell you were lying. Once dinner was done, you all sat quietly watching the movie Lois had picked. Soon he and Lois had fallen asleep together on the couch. Taking that as your moment, you tried to leave as quietly as you could. You were just opening the door when you heard him stir awake.

"Y/n? Where are you going? Its too late."

You quickly rushed out and left without saying a word. That was the last he heard from you for almost 3 weeks. You didn't show up for class in person, only opting to take the online course for awhile, and you wouldn't answer his texts or calls. One evening after not getting a response, Clark was fed up and he was ready to confront you about your sudden absence. When he got to your door he saw that it wasn't fully closed. He heard your muffled cries and made his way to make sure you were okay. He saw you burying your face in the pillow trying to quiet your cries. His arms wrapped around you like a blanket and you immediately began to calm down and feel better. After awhile when you calmed down, you tried to get up, but Clark held you still. He went and got you a glass of water and aspirin. He made sure you got everything down safely and he hovered over you not giving you room to escape.

"Are you okay?" He asked still caging you in. You nodded. "What's going on? Why have you been avoiding me? I thought we were friends? I would've been able to be here to help you but you shut me out and I want to know why?"

"Clark, really? Right now?"

"You're damn right, right now."

"You can't spend everyday with me and neglect Lois, its not right. She needs you to be there for her and you can't do that hanging around with me." You said trying to get from under him.

"She said something to you?"

"Of course she did, I assumed she'd spoken with you, I just didn't want to upset her or cause problems."

"You didn't want to upset her? Oh right, but you didn't think of how it would upset me, your friend?"

"Clark, are you even listening? Lois needs you she-"

"I'm not talking about Lois, I'm talking about you and me. You don't shut me out like that. Did you even consider what I would think or feel? Did you think of maybe coming to me and talking about it?"

"N-no, I-"

"No you didn't, you were being selfish!" He yelled making you feel bad. You'd never seen him so upset and you immediately wanted to make it right.

"Dude, I'm sorry okay. I just felt so bad that I was coming between your relationship, I just didn't want to upset her."

"Once again, we're not talking about her, we're talking about you and me. I'm trying to make you understand that what you did was hurtful."

"-and I'm explaining why I did it. I was asked to step back, so I did. What more should I have done?"

"You should've come to me! You talk to me and tell me what's going on."

"Clark, yes you are my friend, but that is mad disrespectful and I won't disrespect her. She came first, I'm just the little lost puppy you picked up okay? You can't neglect her you will lose her." you tried explaining to him. He stared at you for a second, before storming off. He went and stood on your patio to cool off and you took him a drink as a peace offering. When you handed it to him, he grabbed your hand in his.

"Don't ever do that again." He chastised before pulling you into a big hug. That night, you both cooked dinner together and sat to talk a bit more.

"Clark, I know you might not want to talk about it anymore, but I really do think you need to talk with Lois. She needs you more than you know."

"She doesn't need me, she hasn't needed me for a long time. We don't even sleep together anymore. I can't even remember the last time we had sex." he said taking a long swig of his beer. You shifted a bit uncomfortably. That was a huge no-no topic for you and you fought to keep the image from crossing your mind. You already felt bad for the very vivid dreams you'd been having about him, so vivid they'd jerk you awake.

"You really should talk to her." you whispered. "I-I have something I wanted to tell you."

"Oh yeah?" he asked curious.

"I met someone, we're just getting to know each other now, but I really like them. They're super awesome and super sweet, and before you ask, its not the guy from class." you said smiling and finally looking at him. You noticed that he looked pissed. His jaw was tight and he wouldn't look at you. "Dude you okay?" he sat silent for a moment too long. "Clark, what's wrong?" He didn't say anything, he just got up and walked out of your apartment. It was his turn to ghost you and you didn't speak with him again until you decided to go back to class in person and you'd hoped whatever was bugging him had passed. When you walked in class, he didn't even acknowledge you and you were hurt. You waited back after class to at least speak to him. Once everyone cleared out you tried talking to him.

"Hey, how've you been?" you asked carefully.

"Oh I've just been, trying to spend time with Lois as requested." He snipped at you.

"O-kay well, just wanted to check on you." you said turning to leave, but he grabbed your hand.

"No, don't leave. I'm sorry, its just...it been a really long day and I haven't talked to my friend in weeks. Come on, lets go to the office." He said leading you back to the back. You both sat back there catching up and joking.

"Well I have a favor to ask, and I promise you don't have to if you can't or don't want to, but I wanted to ask if you and Lois would like to come on a double date with me and my new partner this weekend."

The look he gave you quickly made you rethink asking him that question.

"I mean you don't have to, I understand if you have plans."

He stood stone still staring at you for way too long, then he smiled.

"Yeah, we'll be there. What time and where?" He asked.

What you'd missed was the deviousness dripping off of his voice because his smile made it seem like he was being nice. You gave him all the info and hugged him before waving goodbye.

"Dinner this weekend huh?" Clark said to himself. "Dinner is going to be very nice." He said before getting his material together for his next class.

[beyondspaceandstars]

Around You Neck

Bonus: Part 3

Relationship: Helmut Zemo x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, penetrative sex, fingering, dirty talk, exhibitionism, voyeurism, slight degradation, choking, slight metal arm kink - 18+, minors DNI Summary: Something was sparked inside you after Bucky let Zemo watch you two. Now you want to take it a little farther with Zemo but you also want Bucky there as a bit of a...guide. A/N: this was actually requested (see below)! I never, ever thought the original Around You Neck would be taken this far but it certainly has gone on a journey. You don’t technically need to read each part to understand this one but if you’d like to see the progression, please feel free. I hope this lives up to any and all expectations!

Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2

As much as you didn’t totally want to admit it, you couldn’t stop thinking about Zemo. 

Ever since the sexual ventures you had partaken in with him and Bucky, your opinion on him had...shifted. While, no, you weren’t looking at him as some sort of romantic conquer (you were still very much dedicated to your boyfriend) you couldn’t help but wonder what it’d be like for him to join again. Maybe this time a bit more...hands-on.

Truly, though, you never thought you were actually going to act on these ideas. In fact, you figured you hid your wandering mind pretty well. Some sneaky glances at Zemo and brushes of hands weren’t much to raise any alarms, especially when you were constantly in close proximity with said person. It truly didn’t get closer than being in their literal home. But you forgot to take into account the fact Bucky wasn’t exactly of normal human nature. His senses were dialed up to eleven - especially when you were in the room. 

Your shameful confession came out one afternoon. Bucky had heard you giggle at something Zemo had said and nearly punched a hole through the nearest wall before grabbing your arm. While nothing crazy, he did throw you into the nearest room with some force, anger practically emitting from him in waves.

“What the fuck are you doing?” He asked once the room to the door was shut. You backed away, quite surprised by the outburst, as Bucky stalked towards you, seething.

“W-What?”

“Don’t try to blame dumb with me,” he scoffed, arms folded with a pointed look on his face. “Why are you making googly eyes at Zemo?”

“Googly eyes-,”

Bucky cut you off. “And laughing like he’s the funniest fucking person on the planet? What game are you playing here, dear?”

That goddamn nickname made you cringe. Ever since Zemo restored to calling you that during the intimate encounter, Bucky hasn’t let it go, using it like some weapon. 

You shake your head, trying your best to play this off. Sure, you had some words of explanation for your boyfriend but you didn’t want it to come out right now. “I-I really don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You don’t know what I’m talking about?” Bucky raised his brows in surprise. “So, you haven’t been shooting little glances at him? Or how about when your hand just so happens to end up on his shoulder? That’s definitely my favorite.” His tone was so lifeless. You gulped.

An awkward pause settled as you tried averting your gaze anywhere but at your annoyed boyfriend. This task proved to be impossible. “Bucky, please-,”

“You want to be with him, don’t you?” His question filled the room. “God, I knew this was going to happen. I never should’ve…”

You began shaking your head furiously. “Not in that way.”

“Not in that… Well then in what fucking way?”

You looked down at your hands, fiddling with your fingers anxiously. You took a deep breath. “I think we should… We should bring him into our, um, activities again.”

The silence that followed your confession was nerve-wracking. You didn’t have the guts to look at Bucky, just standing there patiently waiting on his response. The longer he stalled the more foolish you felt like you had actually cheated on him when that wasn’t anywhere near the truth. 

For a moment, you thought he wasn’t going to say anything, just storm out or something, but instead, he let out a nervous cough and asked, “In what way would you- would you want him to join us?”

You slowly gather the courage to face your boyfriend again. He looked genuinely curious, lacking any sort of rage you had assumed would be present. No, instead, he appeared interested, not even mocking you in any way. This all made you feel quite more comfortable about the truth getting out. You took a moment to recollect yourself and get your pounding heart under control.

“Well… I can’t deny that I want to sleep with him.”

“I knew it-,”

“But,” your voice raised, cutting off Bucky, “I want you there to sort of, like, l-lead him.”

Bucky cocked his head. “Lead him?”

You nodded, taking a few steps closer to your boyfriend, practically as close as you humanly could. “Tell him what to do, how to please me. Only you know that, honey.” You chuckled, placing a light hand on his chest. “Picture it: Another man wants to ravish me, but you… Only you know how to get me going. Only you know what I want, how to make me squirm. Only you can teach him and wouldn’t that just be…” Your words trailed off as your eyes fluttered shut at the thought, a soft moan leaving your lips. When you opened them again, Bucky was searching your face with great intensity. 

“You really want this, don’t you?” He asked. You shyly nodded. Bucky took a moment before continuing, “You want to be watched while you get fucked again?”

“Bucky…”

He let out a dangerous laugh. “My naughty little exhibitionist,” he shook his head, a knowing smirk playing at his lips now. You couldn’t believe he was coming around to the idea but the fact he was made your core already so wet. “Okay, doll. Let’s see what we can do.”

***

Bucky had decided to take the lead when it came to bringing this up with Zemo. Still ever such the dominant figure in your relationship, he instructed you to wait in the guest room you had been lent while he approached the Baron. 

Amazingly, you didn’t have to wait long. Within moments, your heart was dropping as the door to the room was pushed open by Bucky. Zemo followed swiftly behind with an unreadable expression.

Both men stopped at the foot of the bed, right in front of you. You looked up at them, curiously.

“So - So did you explain…”

“James did enlighten me with your...desires,” Zemo said, a little smirk playing on his lips. “I must say, dear. You are quite the little minx.”

Your jaw went slack at his words, unsure of what to say. Only Bucky liked calling you that. But you certainly didn’t hate it rolling off Zemo’s tongue like that. 

“Maybe you should cool it with the pet names,” Bucky snapped. 

Zemo glanced at him. “I don’t know, James, she seems to enjoy it.”

You clenched your thighs, unable to deny it. Bucky didn’t miss that little movement but chose to not acknowledge it. 

“I’m taking the lead here and if I say no pet names then there are no pet names,” Bucky said, his voice slow and serious as he stared down Zemo. “Got it?” You couldn’t believe the sight in front of you. Nothing had even explicitly happened yet and there was already a puddle forming in your panties. 

“Very well,” Zemo eventually agreed. Slowly, right in front of you, he began removing articles of his clothing. This was happening. “How would you like me then?”

“I-,”

Bucky cut you off. “When you’re done, undress her.” Zemo didn’t say anything but just nodded, stripping down until he was in all his bare glory right in front of you. You tried to not stare, focusing instead strictly on his face which held the tiniest smirk, as he began teasingly running his hands under the fabric of your shirt. 

You couldn’t believe how hot you were finding this. Your control was pretty much gone, all solely in the trust of Bucky and Zemo. A diabolical pair. You obeyed when Zemo motioned for you to lift your arms. Within no time, you were totally open and bare in front of the men. 

Zemo’s hand lingered on your face, stroking your cheek softly. You gasped at the motions. He came close to running his thumb along your lips but then Bucky spoke up, “Enough. Lay her down.” 

Zemo didn’t waste another second pushing you back onto the bed. He was crawling on top of you in no time, not waiting for another command before capturing your lips with his. It felt like a brand new world. His movements in the kiss, deep and powerful, were so unlike Bucky’s. Bucky’s had meaning, years of love behind them. There was nothing like that with Zemo, just the understanding of what you’re here to do. It took your breath away. 

Bucky scoffed when you two pulled apart. “I’ll let that slide for now. Start warming her up, touch her. It won’t take much, though. Can already see she’s dripping onto the sheets.”

Your cheeks burned at the borderline degrading words from your boyfriend but Zemo didn’t look phased. Instead, while one hand was planted next to your head, his other began running up and down you. His fingers were so light and teasing. They ran over your breast, pulling lightly at your skin, earning a surprised gasp from you. Zemo looked quite pleased with himself as he continued, his hand now making its way lower on your body. He stopped just above the apex of your thighs, hovering temptingly.

“Touch her,” Bucky commanded, his voice strained and...needy? You didn’t have much time to think too hard about it before Zemo was plunging two fingers right into your core, the wetness allowing the easiest of access. You cried out in surprise earning a low chuckle from Zemo. He seemed quite amused by how vocal you could be.

“Feel good?” He asked, mockingly. His fingers curled within you as they pumped in and out, your walls clenching around them desperately. You nodded weakly. 

Bucky groaned. “Touch her clit. Now.”

Zemo happily complied. The palm of his hand began pressing against your clit with every thrust, forcefully. At one point, he stilled his fingers in you, giving your clit his full, undivided attention. You yelped, twisting at the overwhelming sensation of the fingering and circling. 

Pleasure was running through you at an almost unbearing amount. It all escalated when your head lolled to the side and your eyes fell on Bucky. He was leaning against the wall across from the bed, hands fisted at his side, erection clearly pressing against the fabric of his pants. His gaze was hard, his pupils wide. He was watching so intensely yet with just the littlest hint of wonder. It hit you - Bucky was starting to actually enjoy this.

Zemo, on the other hand, wasn’t happy he lost your attention. A rough hand came up to your neck, forcing you to look back at him. He roughly pressed his forehead to yours, not letting your eyes wander even in the slightest. All you could do was stare back at his eyes while he fucked you relentlessly with his fingers. 

“Eyes on me,” Zemo gritted. 

“Watch yourself, Zemo,” Bucky snapped back.

Zemo’s grip on your neck got tighter and you were done for. That fucker really knew your weak points. The fingering was skilled but the grip on your throat... your body couldn’t take it all. You yelled out as your orgasm ran through you, your body jerking in response to it all. Zemo didn’t lighten anything up, though, forcing you to take it all until you were practically clawing at him, begging to stop. 

“That’s enough,” Bucky shouted. Zemo gave a dangerous chuckle before removing his fingers, licking each one as if they were a meal to be savored. But Bucky wasn’t close to being intimidated by the other man as he continued his commands, “I’d fuck her now if I were you. She’s getting antsy.”

“I think she’s always antsy,” Zemo sneered. “Maybe I want to make her wait a bit longer. Make her really cherish it.”

Your eyes were still forcefully locked on Zemo until Bucky stomped towards the bed and grabbed the man by the back of his neck, hoisting him away from you. His hand left your throat unwillingly. 

In a chilling tone you don’t think you ever heard from Bucky before, he whispered in Zemo’s ear, “I’m making the calls, Zemo, remember? You’re obeying me. If I say fuck her, then you fuck her.” He pushed the man back down, his head falling to the crook of your neck. When he regained his strength, Zemo pulled away to look at you. An unsettling smile played on his lips.

“As you wish,” he muttered and, in one swift, he entered you. Fully. No true warning. You gasped in utter shock at the boldness. You hadn’t expected it to take a moment or two for you to adjust to him. He was different from what you were used to with Bucky. Bucky had the length, but Zemo had the girth. He was stretching you in a whole new way and once you were past the shock, you soaked in all of it. 

Zemo just halted inside you, waiting for you to face him. You hadn’t even realized your eyes had closed until you were being forced to reopen them. Once you gave a little nod - your way of begging at this point - Zemo began moving in and out. His pace was strong, so determined.

He must’ve seemed like a man deprived because Bucky barked out, “Slower. Now you can let her wait for it. Let her feel it. She gets so needy sometimes she just has to be taught some patience.”

Reluctantly, Zemo complied, slowing his motions. You couldn’t even imagine the power-high Bucky must’ve been on at that moment. But you didn’t have much time to think about it as Zemo began dragging his full length out of you and reentering slowly, just as instructed. You moaned loudly as the pleasure built. 

“You like that? Huh? Sure sounds like it,” Zemo grunted in your ear. “You make the prettiest little noises.”

Your eyes fluttered shut once more as you weakly nodded. But your chance to get lost in the sensations was interrupted by Bucky. Suddenly, he was at the side of the bed, his metal hand coming around your neck and turning your head to face him now. 

“Use your words, doll,” he whispered, his eyes never leaving your worn-out expression. Your body jolted with each of Zemo’s thrusts. Bucky paid no mind to the other man, keeping his focus on you and continuing, “Tell him how you’re feeling. It feels good, doesn’t it? Do you like having another man fuck you while I watch? I gotta admit, when you first brought it up I was hesitant but you’re right. There is something about knowing what you need. What makes your little pussy all fucking wet. He may be on top of you but I’m the one controlling your pleasure. You scream for me.”

“Yes, Bucky, yes” was all you could chant as everything began boiling up inside you. 

Here you were screaming one man’s name while the other pounded you. There was the hand on your throat - the metal hand. Zemo taking his sweet time delivering his thrusts. The little pressure on your clit every time he’d push in you. Both of the men were only paying attention to you… It was so much at once yet exactly what you needed. Within seconds of Bucky finishing his little monologue, you were cumming hard around Zemo’s cock. It must’ve triggered something in Zemo as well because he wasn’t that far behind. 

“Faster,” Bucky suddenly demanded. “Until she can’t take it anymore.” 

Zemo sure wasn't hesitating on this one. You felt him fill you fully while his thrusts didn’t falter. He was making sure you two were fucked good. You clawed at Bucky’s arm, wanting something to hold onto as you rode out the orgasm. He kept his grip on your throat tight and careful, watching you with those overwhelming eyes as you came on another man’s cock. 

After a couple more weak thrusts, Zemo gave a final strong one before pulling out of you completely, making you whimper. Zemo gave you a soft smile before placing a kiss on your forehead. Once calmed down, he turned his serious self once again and began reclaiming his clothing items. You couldn’t believe how he could just turn it all on and off with a flip of a switch as if you weren’t lying on the bed fucked out mostly because of him. But that was what you had felt from him. It was all just about finding pleasure. And you both were successful.

Bucky didn’t pay any attention to the other man’s actions. He was still locked on you. His hand had left your throat now and was now caressing your cheek. You giggled at the softness, such a stark contrast to just moments before. 

Fully dressed now, Zemo cleared his throat, pulling you and Bucky’s attention away from one another. You glanced over at the man. He nodded to you both. “Thank you for the...invitation,” Zemo said. “Better than I could’ve ever imagined.” With that, he promptly exited as powerful and bold as he had entered. 

You were alone with Bucky now, unsure of what to actually say. 

“Did you enjoy yourself, doll?” Bucky eventually broke the silence. “Better than you could’ve ever imagined?”

You playfully rolled your eyes. His little tinge of jealousy was coming back despite being thoroughly turned on. Which reminded you… 

“I did enjoy myself,” you confirmed. “But I think I could have just a little bit more fun.” Regaining your strength, you shifted to a kneeling position on the bed. Your hand began creeping its way up Bucky’s jean-covered thigh to where his erection was still being strained against the material.

Bucky let out a low chuckle as your hand pressed over his covered cock. “You just don’t know when to quit, huh? My insatiable little girl.”

You blushed. “I just want to make sure you enjoyed yourself.”

“Oh, sweetheart, you have no idea.”

[donutloverxo]

Want you back

Note - this is for @holylulusworlds 10k follower challenge! My trope was hurt/comfort Congrats I hope you like it😘

Beautiful mood board by my girl @ballyhoobarnes

Summary - You want Steve to be more than just your sugar daddy. He breaks your heart. Will he be able to make it upto?

Themes - CEO au, sugar daddy/baby relationship, implied age gap, smut, unprotect sex, loss of virginity, daddy kink

Pairing - Steve Rogers x reader

Word count - almost 4k

Masterlist is linked in the bio!

You squealed as you grabbed the deep red box from Steve’s hand, the words ‘cartier' written on it in golden cursive. You could see Steve watching in amazement from the corner of your eye. You gasped as you opened it, the prettiest and shiniest diamonds you had ever seen. “For me?” You looked at him with hopeful eyes. If he said no it would break your heart.

“Who else would it be for?” He chuckled and you gave him a smile embarrassed at your own silly thoughts. “Let me” He said pulling you by your hips to place you on his lap, taking the necklace out of the box and clasping it around your neck.

Such an act shouldn’t feel so intimate, but it really did. Steve was the most generous man you had ever met. He met you in a very difficult time in your life. Paying off your student loans, buying you a new very comfortable apartment, and so many gifts all the while never expecting anything in return.

All he wanted was quality time with you and complete honestly. He reserved a lot of disdain for dishonest people. Which is why maybe he liked having you around. You were the most honest person you knew, always wearing your heart on your sleeve, never having a filter. You understood now what Steve meant when he said ‘you're a breathe of fresh air' having met his friends. You didn’t know who to trust, all those parties seemed so glitzy on the surface but you did feel a certain darkness lingering underneath on some level.

You looked down at your new diamond necklace. Since your little arrangement with Steve started, over six months ago now, this would be the tenth diamond necklace he gave you, among a few diamond pendants and bracelets. “It’s so pretty” you said in awe of it to which he replied “It looks pretty because it’s on you doll”

“You didn’t have to daddy” You shifted on his lap to get comfortable putting your arms around his neck to look into his cerulean blue eyes, the prettiest eyes in the whole wide world.

“I just felt like spoiling my princess. It’s been a while since I got you anything. Jarvis told me you haven’t used the platinum card in weeks” He quirked a brow at you.

Well you hadn’t. You weren’t surprised Steve’s secretary Jarvis noticed. He always delivered messages, gifts to you whenever Steve wasn’t available. You started a part time job at a library just so you wouldn’t have to use it. “I’ve been thinking a lot” You murmur looking down at your lap to avoid his intense gaze. If you did look at his face you wouldn’t be able to articulate your thoughts “and I don’t want your money daddy. I just want you. I don’t want you to feel like that’s all I’m looking for”

“Hey look at me” He said propping your chin up to make you look at his face. He looked so worried you wanted to kiss away his frown. “I have a lot of money. What I do with it is up to me. And I want to take care of my princess. I don’t feel like you take advantage of me. In fact you do a lot more for me than I for you” He placed a couple of soft kisses on your knuckles while maintaining eye contact with you.

You scoffed at that. You didn’t really do anything for Steve. Not in the way women did for men. When Steve asked to be your sugar daddy, you were more than nervous. How would someone as inexperienced as you please a man like him? But until now you had only had few heavy make out sessions. Steve would feel your breasts through your shirt, and you were sure you felt his hard on that one time, but other than that you hadn’t really done anything together. “I want – “ you trailed off. What if you did tell him how you felt, that you loved him more than the word love can say it, and he rejects you, breaks your heart. You could probably take rejection from anyone else, but if it came from Steve you’d never recover.

“What is it?” He probed.

“I want you. All of you. Why can’t – I don’t know how to say this” You shook your head trying think of the best words. “Why can’t we be boyfriend and girlfriend like most people are? I –“ you paused as he stared at you intently “I love you. I know I’m not the best girl out there but I try my best” You inwardly cringed at your pathetic-ness. Not really the best way to ask to be someone’s girlfriend.

He took a deep breathe “I was afraid of this. I don’t do that doll. If I wanted a girlfriend I would have one. I don’t have space for that.”

You felt as if he stabbed you in your heart. You quickly got up, abandoning the comfort of his lap. You took the necklace off putting it on the abandoned open box. “I want more. I can’t ignore my feelings. I can live without diamonds or bags but I can’t live without –“ you choked a sob. “I think I’ll go home now”

You collected your chanel bag, which he gave you, you grimaced as you looked at it, when he got it for you were over the moon but now it just gives you pain, just like every gift he got for you would. You put on your shoes somewhat leisurely expecting him to get up try to talk you out of leaving, compromise, something! But he just sat there staring at the necklace you rejected. “Goodbye” you said and left.

You had never been to a ball. Any party you ever attended were frat parties that were well trashy for the lack of a better word. You were so amazed at the tall champagne flutes passing through, the exotic hors doers, people dressed in the most lavish gowns and suits. Everything was so pretty you knew you didn’t fit in here.

But Steve was so considerate with you. His hand never left your side the whole night. He kept you close to him, including you in any conversation he had with others. It was that kindness that you fell in love with.

But then she approached you both. She looked really talk in her sleek stilletos, her sharp cheek bones were complimented by her short brown curls. You felt a tinge of jealousy when she hugged Steve kissing his cheek as if she had known him forever. “This is Margaret” He introduced her.

You were later told that she was Steve’s ex girlfriend.

She had a posh British accent. With her classic black dress, she looked like she belonged here. You hurt yourself by thinking about how Steve and her looked so good together. They looked like they were meant to be standing next to one another. You had to try really hard to hold back tears when she touched Steve’s bicep, laughing at something he said.

You had been ‘together' for over two months at that point. You knew Steve was gorgeous. You didn’t however realise how much other women noticed his that. That night you felt as if everyone had their eyes on him. If you left for even a second to use the ladies room, Steve would be surrounded by women, all so gorgeous they looked other worldly.

You asked to spend the night at his home. He had turned his queen suite into a room for you. Complete with baby pink walls, silk sheets and the softest of stuffies. He told you he would be happy to have you. After kissing you goodbye Steve went back to his room.

You had other plans. You knocked on his door, entering without his permission. You almost considered leaving when you looked at the sight in front of you. He was only sporting his grey sweats. The dim yellow light from the lamp made his skin and hair look golden as if he was a god. He certainly looked like he was carved out by gods. His muscles so taut and his shoulders so broad. He looked like he was photo shopped.

You whimpered when you got a good look at his abs as he sat up straight. You were wearing your satin pale blue nightie, adorned with white lace on the edges. Something you bought when you were out shopping with him. You knew you didn’t look nearly as good as the women at the party.

“You can’t sleep princess?” He asked sitting back against the headboard.

“Hm” You hummed remembering your diabolical plan “I just felt so alone. Can I sleep with you?” You fluttered your lashes at him.

“Of course” He gave you a small smile shifting to his side to make room for you. You quickly skipped over to him and got under the covers with him. Nestling against his chest you nuzzled his neck. “Is everything alright with you?” He asked propping your chin up to look at him.

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t it be?” You draped a leg over his hip and started grinding against his thigh. You didn’t know much about seducing but you could only hope you were doing it right.

“Well you were quiet the whole ride home.” He pressed his palm against your hip, firmly but also gently at the same time, to stop your grinding. “What’s going on?”

“I just really really want to make you feel good.” You tried your best to sound classy and sultry at the same time, just like Peggy did.

You didn’t want him to find out just how amazing he was, and how he could do better than you. He was nice to her. Was he too nice? Did he still have feelings for her? Why did you find out from someone else that they were together. You needed to give him everything.

He didn’t try to stop when you rubbed him through his sweats. Gulping down your anxiety you looked up to see him staring at you curiously. He quickly sat back up and leaned against his pillows as you took his cock out of his briefs and sweats. He looked big. Much bigger than normal men probably. How were you supposed to take him?

You tried to recall whatever you had seen in porn or had heard from friends and stroked his length. He seemed to like it since he moaned grabbing a handful of your breast and squeezing it. You stared in awe as the creamy gooey liquid seeped out of his tip. You leaned down taking him in your mouth and going as far as you could until he hit the back of your throat. You moaned around him and swallowed your spit so you wouldn’t make too much of a mess. You were about to bob your up and down as one is supposed to do when giving a blow job but he abruptly pulled you off of him by grabbing the back of your head.

He brought you close to him and crashed his lips onto yours in a kiss which was all teeth and carnal need.

He flipped you over so you were under him and worked on taking off your panties. “I think I should tell you...” You trailed off not being able to concentrate with his lips on your neck. “I’ve never.. done this before.” You whimpered as he sucked a bruise into the crook of your neck.

He immediately stopped looking down at you. “What?” He asked and you felt ashamed and guilty that you ruined the moment. “What did you say?”

“I’ve never-” You curled in on yourself so you were as small as your voice was “I’ve never done this before you know.” You sniffles tears trailing down your cheeks.

“Hey” He shushed you. Collecting you in his arms and rocking you back and forth. You cried into him for a while. His steady heartbeat lulled you and calmed you. “We don’t have to do that any time soon. Your first time should be special. With someone you love.”

Maybe he said those words to comfort you. But he had no idea just how they broke your heart. He never saw you as anyone he could have a serious future with. You weren’t a serious put together girl. Sure he may say he prefers your innocence over the cunning and self absorbed people in his world. But he was one of them.

“Is it because I’m not her.” You spat but you weren’t brave enough to look at him.

“Who are you talking about?” He spoke into your hair.

“Margaret or Peggy. Whatever you call her.” You mumbled afraid that you had let your true feelings be known.

“Is that what this is about?” He shook his head and when you didn’t look at him he sternly called out your name which made you whip your head up. “There’s nothing between me and Peggy. We had our time but it’s over now.” He tried reassuring you.

Even if your arrangement was supposed to be purely financial you were more or less unofficially exclusive. “Then why did I have to find out from Natasha that you were both engaged?” You pouted wiping your nose with the back with the back of your finger.

“I only asked her to marry me because I thought that was how it was supposed to be. That’s what everyone had told us since we were kids. That we were to grow up and get married. But then I realized that I didn’t love her like that. Neither did she. We’re just friends now. I promise.” He kissed your forehead.

You were hurt from being rejected by the only man you ever tried to seduce. He cuddled you and coddled you. Reassuring you again and again that you’re perfect. There’s nothing wrong with you.

Just not perfect enough to actually be his apparently.

Days turned into weeks. You were just drifting through the motions. Steve insisted that you keep your apartment.

‘I gave it to you. It’s yours.’ He said.

And really beggars can’t be choosers. Before being his sugar baby, you cringed at that label now, you were just an intern in his company. But you didn’t last in that harsh environment for even a month. After that you didn’t really need to get another job since he promised to take care of you in exchange for your company.

You had no idea your company was worth that much.

You always had a crush on him. He was this stylish, smart, kind yet distant older man who was your dream guy of sorts. As in you could dream about him, but you can’t actually have him.

Of course you said yes to his proposal. And were more than happy to accompany him to exotic places in first class and private jets for over six months. To wear breath taking dresses which cost more than your tuition. To cuddle with him and make out with him. It didn’t really go far than that.

Yet it wasn’t hard to trick yourself into thinking that it was more. That you could convince him to want more with you. What a dumbass you were.

You applied to at least ten jobs, although you didn’t hear back from a single one. You were determined to get back on your feet and get yourself a new apartment. You’ll have to move back to queens or even New Jersey. There was no way you could afford a home in Manhattan. But you didn’t want Steve to get the idea that he’s any less cruel to you just because he let’s you stay in the condo he brought you.

For now you were happy wallowing in your sadness. Eating tubs of Ben and Jerry’s and watching the notebook. Thinking about how love is a lie fed to people since childhood so they don’t realise just how meaningless life is.

You were half sleep when you jerked awake to your intercom harshly buzzing. Grumbling you walked over to your door and pressed the button “Who is it?” You asked your irritation evident in your tone.

“It’s me.” Said the voice that was all too familiar to you. “Let me in please?” He requested desperately.

You let out a sigh pressing the little buzzer to let him in. As much as you loathed you, you loved him even more. It had been over a month, you were longing to see his voice, to talk to him, to smell him, to even just be around him.

You opened the door and let him into your, or his, home. You tried your best to not let him see just how happy you were that he’s in front of you. Instead you filled your eyes and drawled your voice feigning annoyance. “What do you want?”

“I want you back” He stated stalking towards you. “Please. I made a mistake” You had never seen him beg. This was so uncharacteristic of him. And you were going to thoroughly revel in it. You held his gaze, done being a coward.

“No” You simply said. “It’s too little too late”

“Don’t say that” He bent down invading your personal space. “It’s never too late. I – I love you” your jaw dropped as he stammered over the words leaving you shocked. “I’ve loved you for so long. I thought that I could pretend that I didn’t”

“Why?” You wanted to know.

“Because I’ve lost everyone I ever loved. I can’t lose you.” He kissed your knuckles.

“You already have.” But your body betrayed you as you leaned into his touch. You could already feel your resolve crumbling. “I don’t believe you.” You snatched your hands out of his hold. “You’ll change your mind tomorrow.”

“No no I won’t. I swear.” He scrambled to hold your hands again but you moved them out of his reach. It was almost satisfying to have the upper hand. To have him be the vulnerable one. “I’ll show you how serious I am.” He said removing a little red box from his pocket.

“Is that...”

“Yeah” He gave you a small smile. “This isn’t a spur of the moment thing. I’ve thought about this.” He said kneeling in front of you. He opened the box to reveal a solitaire diamond ring adorned by little diamonds on the band. It was simple enough to be classy but flashy enough to be special. “I fell in love with you the moment I saw you. You’ve always held my heart y/n. Will you marry me?” He asked. His voice slightly shaky.

You didn’t need to think about it. You forgave him as soon as you heard his voice. “Yes” You whimpered. You didn’t even know that you had started crying. He stood up on his feet and slid the ring on your ring finger.

You smiled as he kissed you. After so long. It was just a month but it felt like a thousand years. It was as if he was parched and so needy for you. His hands wandering all over your body. He swooped you up in his arms and carried you over to your bedroom. He made quick work of taking off his sweater his jeans and his underwear.

He pulled your long sleep shirt over your head. You tried to hide your breasts from him. Having never been naked in front of anyone you were shy and felt so exposed. “You’re going to be my wife now.” He purred removing your hands and taking you in. He was awestruck. “You’re so beautiful.” He stated mater of factly.

He trailed kisses down your body. Settling between your legs he stared at your heat. You couldn’t tell if he was unsatisfied or not. You gasped as you felt his hot tongue against your warm folds. You squirmed and thrashed. It was so different from when you played with yourself. So much more intense. You whimpered punching the mattress when he pulled away, you instantly missed his mouth. You gasped as you felt his fingers invade your warmth.

He moved up looming over you pushing his fingers in and out of you. “I want to watch you fall apart” He said. His voice laced with lust.

You came all over them screaming as he captured your lips into a bruising kiss. Swallowing your moans and cries.

You were still coming down from your high when he pushed his tip inside you. You gasped. “Shh it’s okay” He cooed kissing your hair “It’ll be okay. Daddy always care of you. You know that right.” He whispered kissing your tears away “I’ll never hurt you again.” He let out a muffled grunt as he completely sheathed himself into you.

He let you get accustomed to his length for a minute before moving. Thrusting leisurely into you. You closed your eyes, holding onto your shoulders. Giving out little hums and mewls, only focusing on the weight of his cock in you, his tip hitting your cervix, and how he brushed against your pussy every time he slid out halfway, only to slid back in again.

“You’re so tight shit.” He cursed against your lips. “I can’t believe. I. Get. to. have. you. forever.” He grunted each word punctuated with a snap of his hips.

He snaked a hand between your bodies and stroked your clit before ruthlessly rolling it in his fingers. It was already so overworked and sensitive. You came clenching around his cock in no time.

Your orgasm set him off. He quickly pulled out, jerking himself off over your stomach you watched through hooded eyes as spurts of his cum painted your stomach. He slumped next to you. His face and neck flushed. “Have to be careful. I’ll use a rubber next time. I’m not ready to share you with anyone just yet” he muttered wiping his shiny forehead with the back of his hand.

He draped his arm across your stomach nuzzling your neck as you stared at your new rock. “You like it?” He asked kissing your throat.

“I love it. I can’t wait to tell my mom” You replied pecking his forehead. “We have to set a date. When do you want it to be? The theme? So many things.”

He hushed you “You don’t have to worry about that. I’ll just hire a wedding planner.”

“What about your father? What if he doesn’t approve of me?” You worried.

“I don’t give two shits about his opinion.” He grumbled.

And you couldn’t help but giggle at that. It was rare to hear him curse. You couldn’t wait to plan your wedding and your life together.

Tags will be in the reblog. If you want in on the taglist shoot me an ask or click the link in the bio!

me thinks there must be a part two. what do you say?

cute pink dividers by @whimsicalrogers

Please note that my work is NOT to be reposted or published anywhere other than my Tumblr or AO3 account. Reblogs are most welcome though.

[skylarmoon71]

Reverse Flash x Reader- Oneshot (Flash)

Dealing with this yellow suit wearing maniac was not how you thought you’d spend the night. As an ex citizen from Central city, you knew just about every villain that came out of the tragedy of the explosion. Every day a new one seems to arise, and since you liked having all your body parts as they were, you stayed caught up with the news.

That’s why you’d left the place for some much needed peace. 

Rockstone was quiet, and still pretty populated. It wasn’t that far away from Central City either, so you could still visit your family every now and then.

“You seem awfully calm for someone being threatened."

The dark haired male raised his vibrating hand, hoping to urge at least some kind of reaction. After being brought back and wiped from existence so many times, this time around he’d just been looking to have a little fun. Chasing Barry around was starting to get redundant. And then he supposed the hero had his own problems to deal with right about now.

He planned to stay as low key as possible until he could figure out what his next move was. So kidnapping an unsuspecting victim and forcing them to provide him shelter seemed like the best way to go.

“Not gonna lie, scared the shit outta me when you appeared out of that little portal. Really thought I dodged a bullet leaving CC. Just my luck.” you grumble. Sipping at your coffee, you adjusted your bag strap. “Sorry old man, got a job to get to so if you’ll excuse me.” you walk around him. It was already dark, and since you had a night shift at the university today, you really weren’t in the mood for this.

Your hair is taken with the whip of the wind, and it feels like a blink. Drink discarded on the ground, you stare in shock. He has you pinned to the wall, snare on his face, blue eyes emitting so much raw agitation. “I’d advise against mocking me.”

He’s started to vibrate, the red light overtaking his eyes.

“It’s not wise to test me.”

The echoing of his voice would bring any person to their knees in fear. The look in your eyes shifts from shock to annoyance. Your free hand is hanging at the side of your waist. You raise your palm, and he looks down just as a blue light shoots out. He’s gone once again, obviously not anticipating this. No longer forced up on the wall, you shrug your shoulders, straightening your shirt that was ruffled.

Eobard is now standing at a distance, intrigued. He halts his speed for a second to observe you. He’s positive he has no recollection of you. Being the evil genius that he is, he’s pretty much recorded all the villain metas in Central City. All those years travelling through time also played a big part in it. So why does he have no profile on you?

“Who are you?” He narrows his eyes, and all you provide is a smirk.

“I think you mean what.” You open both your palms, and your eyes are now emitting the same glow as your hands.

“Great.”

What in the world did he get himself into. He really had a knack for picking bad situations.

~Three Months Later~

“I could have just. “ He makes a hand motion, and you don't need to even guess what he means. This guy. You'd just been telling him about your experience yesterday with one of your peers.

“Now now, don’t make me put you to sleep again Bardy-poo. “ You could tell from his facial expression that the name was anything but desired.

“How long do you intend to keep me hostage?” you scoffed at his statement.

“Hostage, I’d like to think of it as a gracious service to society. “

Eobard was still glaring in your direction.

Running into you that night was such terrible luck on his part. He really thought he’d be lucky this time around, but he was dead wrong. You were unlike anything or one he’d ever met. Certainly not a meta. Since you weren’t exactly forthcoming about your origin, there wasn’t much to go on. What he did know is that every time he attempted to do something even remotely evil, you knew about it.

His powers also had very little effect on you. Trying on many occasions to drill a hand through your chest with no luck. You had him mentally and physically subdued. What’s even worse is he was trying to avoid time travelling, cause that would catch Barry’s attention, and the prospect of the male finding him was even less appealing. With nowhere to go, and you keeping him on a tight watch, his only option was to stick around.

It wasn’t like he was completely stranded. He had means to get by for moments like this. With his abilities he could take whatever he wanted without so much as a flinch. You apparently didn’t care much for his little adventures as long as no one got dead. For all intents and purposes, he was a free man, minus the unnamed being keeping him on a leash.

“I can feel you plotting from all the way over here. Something you’d like to share with the class?”

“Will you remove the bind?” He asked. You click your tongue.

“You know I can’t do that. Evil villain and all. I wouldn't sleep very well if I knew you were out there impaling civilians. “

His eyes were still marking you, and you shifted, brows knitting.

“Well...I’m gonna go because that look is a bit off putting.”

Moving to pick up your cup of coffee and head for the door, you’re once again trapped between the speedster and the wall. You’re about to give him another snarky retort, but you become a little distracted by how deliciously rosy his lips are.

You divert your eyes quickly before your mind can stray any further. He doesn’t speak for a moment, and for a second you almost think he’s trapped in the same haze you are. He’d obviously prepared something diabolical to say, but like some of your most recent interactions, his usual malicious intent is missing.

“So, you're gonna say something or are you trying to relive some Korean drama scene."

He blinks, then takes notice of the position. You’re a bit confused at the lost look on his face. If you didn’t know any better you would have said he didn’t intend to do that. Taking a step back, the coldness returns to his eyes, and just like that he takes off. You release a breath.

“It’s getting harder.”

This little ploy was becoming difficult to keep up. If he ever figured it out you’re not sure what his reaction will be. Your reason for doing this has greatly changed from the beginning.

~~~~~~

The little mental battle has been going on all day.

You could barely focus on anything even when you were teaching your criminology class. That night walking to your door, you felt heavy. Not just from the secret you were keeping from Eobard, but also the feelings you’d lectured yourself not to grow.

The dark haired male is not a good man. You keep telling yourself that. But you’d hope that these months being around you would change that. He hadn’t hurt anyone since his arrival. You honestly thought that you could change him for the better. Opening the door, you step in. The area is silent, and it sort of makes you a tad bit suspicious.

“Eo-”

“Good evening.” You jump, glaring in his direction as you push the door close. He’s sitting on the couch casually like he didn’t just scare the shit out of you.

“Geez don’t do that!!”

He’s once again strutting that stupid smirk.

“It’s uncomfortable isn’t it, when things happen that we have no control over. Surprises.” you squint.

“Why do I feel like that has some alternate meaning."

He’s dressed in dark clothing, glasses perched on his nose. Everything about his body language tells you something is up. With his attention now fixed on you, the bag in your hand is placed on the counter. You’re preparing for anything. As you’ve realized Eobard is very unpredictable.

“I’m done playing your game, release me at once. “

Trying not to pay much mind to his request, you walk past him.

“Come on, we've been at this for months. I can’t let you go on a rampage. Innocent lives and all. If you really wanna blame someone then blame yourself. What are the odds that out of all of the people here you decided to grab me right?” you laugh, but you don’t receive any in return.

“You’re under the impression that this is a game.”

Eobard knows there’s no harm he can inflict on your body, doesn’t mean his actions don’t make you nervous. He approaches slowly, but with purpose. With your back now to the fridge, you try to move to an area where you won’t feel as trapped. Eobard in no way allows this. His hands press into the cool surface of the fridge.

“Y-You know this fetish you seem to have with pushing me against stuff is getting kind of old.” Who were you kidding, shit was driving you mad.

“You can’t keep me here.”

There was no humor in his voice. Just flat out hostility. Yet he wasn’t emitting the anger you knew he had inside. Just because he couldn’t kill you didn’t mean he couldn’t hurt you. You’re positive he’s realized that by now. The prospect of him leaving, somehow it caused an ache in your heart. Eyes connected, it was impossible for you not to look so vulnerable.

“I-If you really want to leave then just go.” you willed your body not to shake, but it was becoming difficult to even keep your tears at bay. “Are you toying with me?” He clenched his fist.

You shook your head, lowering your eyes. Why did you have to feel guilty for keeping the truth from him. The guy wasn’t exactly an upstanding citizen. “I’m not. You can leave Eobard. “

His eyes grew a little wide at the information. 

“I’m not a witch, or a metahuman. I’m just a mutant.” you state. 

“It’s how I’m able to produce barriers like the one I placed on you. It can only be sustained for a maximum of three weeks. It’s taken me years to get to that point of control. You just assumed I always had the barrier up after a month, and I never corrected you because I was trying to keep people safe.”

That wasn’t your only reason.

This entire time he’d been trying to solve your mystery when the answer was right in front of him. It still made no sense. Why didn’t he leave?

“The only reason you’re still here is because you want to be.” Eobard took a step back.

“That can’t be right, why would I want to be stuck in this wretched town.”

All you offer is a smile. At the back of your mind you hope it’s because he’s grown closer to you than he wants to admit.

“I’ve been wondering the same for weeks now. “

You aren’t sure what else can be said. Thankfully you haven’t started breaking down. You sort of want him to leave so you can have the privacy to do so. You take a breath, forcing a confident smile on your face. “Well the cat’s out of the bag so I guess this is goodbye. Just because I can’t hold you doesn’t mean I won’t know when you’re causing mayhem. Better not fall back to your old ways.”

You refuse to look him in the eye, so you have no idea what kind of expression he’s wearing.

Eobard steps forward and grabs your arm.

“Wha-” your swept right off your feet, and you grunt when your back suddenly comes in contact with the softness of your mattress. Eobard is hovering over your body, and you realize he’s just taken you into the bedroom without so much as an explanation. Not just that, but the hunger behind those dark rimmed glasses is enough to turn you into putty.

“W-What are you doing!!”

“Testing a theory.”

“The fu-” His lips collide with yours and your eyebrows shoot up. If you had expected something, it wasn’t this. His entire body is now pressed into you. You’ve held your breath, whimpering.

This is bad, wrong even. His hands are pressed into the mattress, as he shows no signs of moving, or slowing down. His lips are moving eagerly against yours, and at some point your body has started to respond. You reach up, grabbing a fistful of his black shirt, forcing him closer. Your kisses are desperate now, and raw. One of his hands lands on your thigh, trailing up your leg. Because you’re wearing a dress, you can feel his palm against your skin. You moan, and he takes full advantage, slipping his tongue in.

“So good..”

He tastes amazing. His kisses are even more incredible. If you never came up for air that would be too soon. Eobard parts for the breath you are both in need of. Sapphire orbs have changed to navy, and it elects another needy moan from you. His hand is still on your thigh, caressing the skin teasingly. He’s so close to where you need him the most. Eobard takes pleasure in your soft cries. Now it all makes sense. The reason behind your need to keep him there, his apparent unconscious reluctance to leave you.

“Delicious.”

He licks his lips, pulling off his glasses and tossing them overhead.

“I hope you understand what you’ve gotten yourself into. “ You gulp.

Did you?

His lips hover over yours and the logical part of your brain has vanished. You lean up to connect, but he’s keeping you at a distance with that stupidly sexy smirk on his face."

”It appears I’m the one who has you bind now. “

What an unusual turn of events.

Not that you’re complaining.

[wiypt-writes]

Murder, He Wrote

Part 2 Co-Written with @southerngracela​

Summary: After your ordeal at the hands of Ransom, you’re not sure that things can get any worse. Famous last words….

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 1

  With his pride wounded, Ransom drank himself to sleep that night, his mind plotting and scheming of more ways to make his point clear. She was his now and nothing was going to change that. He'd decided it might be time to let her in on his secrets and breakfast seemed as good a time as any and, as such, presented her with a plate of bacon and toast along with a cup of coffee to wash it down. He didn't cook, not well anyway, his preference being diner out or order in. He supposed if this was his new normal, he'd have to learn a new skill. He cringed just slightly at the thought of such domesticity. 

When you heard the locks turn, your belly dropped out. You were shocked to see him, afraid of what was coming your way. If the events from the previous night were any indication, you had to steel yourself to once again fight back. Your tired eyes took him in. A plate and mug in his hands, jeans over his long legs, boots on his feet. Broad shoulders covered by a white ribbed long sleeve thermal shirt, eyes cold and distant, arrogant smirk over his lips. A smirk of your own barely parted your lips as you took note of the now pink lines adorning his right cheek, courtesy of your nails biting at his skin in the attack. You turned away from him, your body instinctively curling in on itself, chain stopping you from balling up completely when he approached. Your mouth watered at the smell of the bacon and coffee. You were hungry but your body fought to ignore the pangs, offering him that satisfaction.

 "I'm not hungry," you managed, desperately irritated at how weak you sounded. 

"Starve then," he set the plate and mug on the nightstand at your bedside. He stood rooted there, arms crossed over his chest. 

"People are gonna be looking for me, you know," you point out, sitting up a little more, confidence growing by the second. 

“You don’t think I’ve already thought of that?” His hands moved from across his chest to his hips. 

As you looked at him, that maddening smug look present on his face it suddenly dawned on you that he might have been more calculating than you’d imagined. And then you understood. You figured out what the connection between him and the actor you’d been supposedly meeting was. None. None whatsoever, except that Lucas Lee had been easy, collateral damage. "You set him up," your brow rose and shock filled your voice. "Lucas Lee... You set him up. What the hell did you do?" 

"Sweetheart, the guy's a complete tool, he walked right into it and he'll walk right out. Just a couple of hours of questioning and he'll be let go," Ransom shrugged as if this were nothing. 

"You're disgusting," you seethe. This arrogant asshole used someone just to get to you and he was PROUD of it. You didn't know what you expected, but the notion of the reality was appalling.

"You don't know the half of it," he winked.

"You're never going to get away with this," you managed to threaten. The look in his eyes caught your breath as he leaned in close, hands on the mattress on either side of your hips. 

"I killed Fran, got away with that. I nearly killed Marta, same story," he said, popping a shoulder up. "The point is, Sweetheart, I'm that good, they'll never find you."

"My family, my friends…they'll go to the police. Mick, my boss, he'll want to know where I am after not showing up today. You can't possibly have thought of everything," you shook your head as you wondered just how long he'd been plotting this. You’d only met the asshole a few months ago, interviewed him for a couple of hours max and then released the article days later. How on earth had that transpired into this utter shirt-show? The thoughts were spiraling so fast in your mind, it was dizzying. 

"Your boss got an email this morning saying you no longer wanted to work for him, and as for your family and friends, well let’s just say I know where they are. I know your little sister's routine. I know the time your mom walks your dog, and that she does it alone.” Ransom continued and you felt the cold course through your body “You do as I say, and they're safe. If not, well, I can pick them off, one, by one, without even getting my hands dirty," he pulled back, standing over you. "So many criminal junkies in Boston, Sweetheart. Plenty who will take the fall for a little hit,” and with that he turned on his heel and walked to the door. 

The true reality of your situation set in and you felt sick to your stomach, despite your hunger. You felt clammy and overwhelmingly dizzy. He had you. If he'd gone this far, followed your family, set up a well-known actor, plotted this entire plan down to how to convince Mick you quit, in a scary short amount of time, just to get to you, you were fully trapped. 

"What happens if you lock me down here...and something happens to you?” Worry laced your words. 

He turned over his shoulder, "I don't give a fuck." And he slammed the door, the sound of the locks echoing in your room. 

In a gut reaction you grabbed the plate of food at threw it at the door where it shattered into pieces, the bacon and toast falling to the floor with it. You screamed as you threw it, for if you hadn't you'd have vomited where you led. 

**** Ransom heard the scream and the smash of the plate and paused half way up the stairs. He took a deep breath, contemplating going back down and teaching Y/N some damned manners before he decided to leave it. He’d given her enough to think about for the time being, and besides, he didn’t want to lower himself to delivering another slap to her face like he had done last night. In all honesty, he hadn’t been expecting the site of the bruise on her right cheek to unsettle him as much as it had done. Her pretty face shouldn’t be marked in anyway, and looking at it had simply reminded him how he’d lost control. Of all the things he’d done, he’d never hit a woman before, despite murder and attempted murder. It left a bad taste in his mouth all things considered and a nasty twist in his gut that felt almost like guilt. But it wasn’t guilt, that wasn’t something he did either…no, it was the fact that in all of his actions, even the diabolical ones, he’d remained calm and in control. Until last night. He’d been feral, wild even, and it wasn’t a feeling he relished. But she’d pushed him to it, provoked him. It was her fault, not his.

He shrugged on his coat and grabbed his keys, before he headed out, locking the door and climbing into his black Mercedes SUV. God he missed his beamer, but this was a lot less conspicuous, just as he needed at the moment. He slipped his sunglasses on to shield his eyes against the bright fall sun and set off towards the City.

His mother was already seated and waiting for him when he arrived at the Harbor. He walked over to her table, pulling off his sunglasses and sliding them into the pocket of his camel coat, removing his trademark silk scarf as he went. He handed them off to the help showing him to his seat, asking him to bring him a beer, and sat across from Linda, who was watching him carefully as she lounged back in her seat, properly dressed as ever in a crisp pair of black trousers and a white long sleeved silk blouse. With her legs crossed, she cut quite the imposing figure, but not to him.

Ransom greeted her with a stiff nod and she frowned and gestured to his face.

“What on earth have you done to your cheek?” she questioned, clearly noticing the scratch marks. Ransom hesitated for a second, “Things got a little rough last night, ” he shrugged but his smirk didn't quite reach his eyes. Linda let out a slight groan as she grimaced “Jesus Ransom, I don’t want to know about your sordid little bedroom antics,” she scalded. “Then don’t ask, Mother,” He drawled, not missing a beat.

“Oh believe me, I wish I hadn't.” Linda rolled her eyes.

Ransom looked down at the menu that was on the table in front of him, giving it a cursory glance already knowing what he was ordering, the same as he always did when he was here, before he took a deep breath and raised his eyes to his mother. She wasn’t one for small talk, and neither was he, so he decided to get straight to the point.

“Why are we here?” he demanded “I mean, aside from the obvious guilt driven task of having lunch with your son.” “If you're going to be a spoiled brat why did you even agree to meet me?” Linda shot back and Ransom smirked.

“What was it you always told me mom? No matter how rich you are, never turn down a free meal.”

“Snarky smart ass” Linda retorted and it was his turn to snort as her brow furrowed.

“Now, now Mother. Those frown lines are getting worse” he arched an eyebrow and she glared at him before she sighed.

“I wanted to see how you were, is that so hard to believe.” “In a word, yes.” He shrugged.

“Well, it’s true.” She reached for her glass of wine and took a sip. “I've not seen you since you moved house.”

Ransom rolled his eyes, Jesus he didn’t have time for this shit. He took a deep breath and looked at her as she eyed him expectantly, waiting for his answer “Just fine. I'm enjoying my new place.”

“So, you like it then?” Linda set her glass down and leaned back once more. “I must admit when it came on our books I thought it would suit you.”

“It's different than Kenoak, less modern, but it does the job” he said vaguely and saw her body language stiffen.

“If you don’t like it why did you buy it Ransom?” her tone was exasperated and he had to fight back the grin that was threatening to spread across his face at the fact he was riling her. It was always so damned easy.

“Well, my last place had kinda turned into a bit of a media circus.”

“Yeah, I expect that’s what happens when you're involved in a homicide” she snapped back.

“Say it a bit louder.” Ransom deadpanned “I don’t think they heard you over by the bar.”

“Believe me, that wasn’t intentional.” she held his gaze “Your Granddad’s death isn't something I find funny, Ransom. Not that it ever occurred to you."

Ransom sighed. He was starting to get annoyed under her scrutiny and really wasn’t in the mood for a deep dive into the events of the past year.

“Not of sound mind, Mother.” He said, his voice a little softer as he reminded her of the argument his brief had made which had ensured his acquittal from his crimes, hoping it would shut her up. “Remember?”

“I know son, I know.” Linda leaned over and gently lay her hand on his where it rested on the table. Ransom took a deep breath and shifted in his seat. Physical affection from her always made him uncomfortable as he wasn’t used to it, but for some reason it was heightened in that moment. He sat and pondered for a second on what he had just said. His brief had spun the line about him being under emotional duress due to his granddad cutting him out of his will and whilst there was an element of truth in it, he’d been of perfect mental capacity when he’d enacted his plan. But, if it helped his mother believe that her only son isn’t a monster then…whatever. He pulled his hand back from her and she sighed, clearly mistaking his discomfort for guilt.

 “You know, you used to be such an affectionate little boy, Ransom.” Linda looked at her hand as if his rebuttal had burned her before she shook her head and reached once more for her drink. “I often wonder where your dad and I went wrong.”

Ok, so this he could deal with. The reminder that he was a constant disappointment.

 “Hard to say.” He snarked “Somewhere between boarding school and Harvard maybe?”

She rolled her eyes “We did what we thought was best.” She set her now empty glass down. “Clearly in hindsight...”

Ransom was saved from her self-indulgent moment of soul searching by the waiter who set his beer down in front of him and asked if they were ready to order. Ransom gestured to his mother who asked for the house salad with a side of tempura prawns whilst he went for his usual, fillet steak with all the trimmings. It was obnoxiously expensive but what the hell, like he cared. Especially not when his Mother was paying...

He took a long pull from his beer as the waiter topped his mother’s glass up from the bottle that stood in the ice bucket next to their table before she thanked him and he disappeared.

“You’ve not asked me how your father is.” Linda looked at Ransom who narrowed his eyes. Why does she care about that? But, deciding it was as good a conversation change as any he shrugged.

“How's Richard?”

Linda rolled her eyes but for the first time since he arrived he noticed a little smirk flicker on her lips before she looked at him. “He’s still your dad Ransom" she reminded.

“Ok, how is my dearest dad? Still fucking the 30 year old au-pair?”

“Yes, apparently, he's taking her to the villa.”

Now that did make him frown. The Villa that they owned in Lake Gada was his mother’s pride and joy.

“Seriously? You're just gonna let him do that?” Ransom’s tone was surprised.

“I have no choice.” Linda took a deep breath “Our divorce isn't final and he's contesting me keeping the property. It's not as cut and dry as one would assume despite his infidelity, numerous infidelities even.”

“He signed a pre-nup, Mom.” Ransom reminded her and Linda nodded.

“I know, but the Villa wasn't part of it. It's the one thing he can hold over me and he's doing just that.” She took a sip of her drink and snorted “Dumb bastard has nothing so he figures why not try his luck here. Fact is, he gets nothing else.”

“Good.”  Ransom retorted, a little viciously and Linda eyed himself shrewdly.

“Careful Ransom, you almost sound like you care.” She smirked and he rolled his eyes, not gracing her with an answer. “Anyway, what are you doing with yourself these days?” she moved the conversation on “And I don't mean with women as we've already established when you sat down. Any hobbies or God forbid a job prospect I should know about?” “Aside from my love life, I’m actually writing mother, believe it or not.” He responded, amused at the visible look of shock that crossed her face.

“You're....writing?” her mouth dropped open before she hastily shut it.

“Don't sound too surprised, Linda,” Ransom let out a low chuckle as his mother rolled her eyes at his use of her name. “Granddad always said I had a flare for it. Just-” he paused for a moment before he shrugged “-well, I guess I never really used it much.”

Linda cocked her head to the side as she considered him for a moment before her face softened and once more Ransom felt uncomfortable at her change in demeanour. “He'd be proud of you. I suppose it's what he's always wanted for you, to find something for yourself.”

And there it was. The reminder that he was nothing but a trust fund prick, with no future and nothing of his own to live off. He took a deep breath, gritting his teeth slightly before he responded with a false air of nonchalance.

“I see that now.”

“Good. I'm pleased you do Son.” Linda nodded. “I'm not glad about how it all went down but...well, as dad used to say, things have a strange way of working out in the end.” It was a funny choice of words, Ransom thought, but before he had chance to dwell on it anymore their food arrived. The conversation slowed a little as they both ate, growing a little stilted in places as he told her vaguely what his writing project was about- a private detective- go figure. Linda moaned about more about his father, and then she dropped something casually into the conversation that really did surprise him, that they were planning a memorial for Harlan. 

"When?" he frowned, swallowing a mouthful of potato.

“The end of this month, possibly the first week in December. It'll be after Thanksgiving.” Linda waved her hand before she paused, hesitating a little as if she was deliberating whether or not to tell him this next bit. And when she did, he fully realised why. “It was Marta’s idea.” The mere mention of that name was enough to get his hackles up and he took a deep breath, the nerve in his jaw twitching. He looked at his mother as she watched him carefully before he looked away and took a drink of his beer. “Hmmm” was all he could muster.

“Hmmm? What's Hmm, Ransom?” Linda looked at him.

“I figured with Harlan gone she'd be out of our lives.” He shrugged, feeling his neck grow hot. That bitch was responsible for all of this in the first place, the reason he was done out of his inheritance. If she hadn’t got her claws into him none of his would have happened.

“Yes, well, as much as it sticks in my throat that she got everything maybe if we play ball she'll come round to actually giving us all what we're owed.” Linda shrugged “And that aside...it will be nice to remember him.”

The rest of the lunch passed with simple conversation, Ransom steering it well away from the subject of his family. When they’d finished his mother, as predicted, picked up the tab and together they headed outside to wait for the Valet to fetch their vehicles. His mother’s arrived first and she turned to him, the pair of them engaging in the awkward, stilted kissing of the cheeks before she promised him his quarterly check from his shares in her company should land next week. With a nod and a thanks he bid her good bye and a few moments later climbed into his own car and set off back home.

***** With a yell you sat bolt upright, taking a moment to get your bearings as you emerged from the troubled sleep you had fallen back into. Yes, you were still here, in Drysdale’s fucking basement. The tears stung your eyes as you lay back, taking some deep breaths as you attempted to ebb the panic which was setting in. Your situation was disgusting and dire, you were trapped and therefore, you knew you needed to ask for the things you needed, not wanted, just simply needed, or in time, Hugh could add you to his notch post of growing murder victims. The question was, exactly how far could you push him for anything? One wrong move, as you'd learned last night, and you'd be regretting ever uttering a syllable. But you refused to go quietly, you'd be further letting yourself down if you did. You didn't have it in you. However, just how dangerous he was or could be now was no longer lost on you, you had the physical reminder in the biting sting of your cheek, throbbing and tenderness you felt between your legs, and the slight bruising around your wrists where he had pinned them above your head. You hadn’t examined the rest of your body to see what damage he’d done, you didn’t want to.

You ached all over from being led or sat on this damned bed since you’d arrived. The chain attaching you to the bed post wasn’t long enough to allow you to stand up and stretch our your aching limbs so for now you had to settle for attempting to massage some feeling back into your calves, your eyes casting over the various tears and ladders in your thick tights which you’d pulled back up last night with trembling hands after he had violated you.

The door clicked open and your head jerked towards the door as you scrambled higher up the bed, pressing your back into the headboard. You watched as your captor strode in, a packet of Biscoff in his hand pausing as his foot crunched over the shattered remnants of the plate that you’d hurled at the door. He looked up at you, raising an eyebrow, as if he'd forgotten he'd heard you throw it this morning. 

“I don’t like cleaning up messes” He said simply as he stepped over it, shutting the door with his foot.

“Pity you killed the house keeper then” you glared at him as he shoved another cookie into his mouth.

“Who, Fran?” he asked with a scoff, his voice muffled by his food.

“How many other house keepers have you killed?” you shot back and he gave a snort.

“None.” Ransom shrugged nonchalantly “But for your information, Fran was a useless dimwit. She only cared about two things. Drugs and getting paid.”

You frowned, was that supposed to justify his actions in some way? He too only cared about getting paid and what money could do for him. “And you care about what exactly other than yourself?” you shot back. He looked at you, a smirk crossing his handsome face as she shoved yet another cookie into his mouth, chewing slowly.

At that point your stomach growled with hunger, just another way your body had betrayed since you since you had arrived and you tore your face from his, turning it to the side.

“Now are you hungry?” he asked as you realised that was probably the bastard’s plan all along. With a deep sigh you looked back at him.

“Can I have one?” you asked meekly.

Ransom studied you for a moment, tongue poking at his cheek, before he strode towards the bed and offered you the packet. You took one and stuffed it straight into your mouth.

“No thank you?”

“Piss off.” You shot back automatically, swallowing your cookie.

His good demeanour ebbed slightly as an irritated look flashed across his face. “Don’t push me, Sweetheart.” his voice was low as he sank onto the side of the bed, looking at you “I think your situation is precarious enough as it is, don’t you?”

You merely glared at him, you had no comeback. There was no comeback. He was right.

“Now if I make you something proper to eat are you gonna take it or throw it at the door again?” he raised his eyebrows “Because, frankly, you starving yourself is of no real concern to me except I kinda think you’re gonna need to keep your strength up.”

It didn’t take a genius to work out exactly what for. But you were so hungry, and the battle inside you raged on before your self-preservation mode won out and you hung your head slightly, looking at the comforter you were led on. “I’ll eat.”

“See, that wasn’t so hard was it?” Ransom smirked again.

“No.” you replied, your voice devoid of emotion. “Can I have some water too?”

“As long as you don’t throw the glass.”

“I’m thirsty.” You replied simply “I won’t.”

He nodded and stood up, offering you the packet of cookies “Have those for now.”

“Thank you.” You took them from him, your tone a little sarcastic, your eyes rolling as you spoke. He looked at you and for a moment you were worried he was about to do something about your response but he simply gave a huff of laughter and turned to leave.

“I’ll be back shortly.” He said, closing the door behind him. 

You could no longer bite back the sigh of delight as you took another of the buttery spiced cookies into your mouth. It was rich on your tongue but it was food and you were so hungry. What you wouldn't do for a cup of coffee to go with. You surveyed the room as you chewed the Biscoff thoughtfully. The earlier despair you’d felt upon waking just before he had re-appeared was slowly giving way to determination as you realised that for now practicality had to win you over. Not only did you need sustenance and water, which you knew was on the way, you also needed clothing and access to the bathroom, which you now realized you were desperate for.

So now what, you thought to yourself. The fact that he was willing to feed you despite the fact you’d launched your morning’s meal against the door meant he didn't want you dead. Mind you, if he did you wouldn’t have made it out of that fucking dilapidated house so, just what kind of a game was he playing at here? You weren't sure what his end game was if it didn't mean your certain death. You just didn't understand and felt the struggle of thoughts seep into your mind as you contemplated each step. He doesn't want you dead, but you're locked up, chained up and he's obliterated your body by force. And that was only the first round. So far he's voiced his hell bent plan on keeping you here and making you suffer. And he's done a right job at it after just the first night. He couldn't keep this up for the rest of your life, could he? No, you didn't think, but he's gone as far as to know your every day, your family's every day, detail for detail. It couldn't possibly be for ironically a ransom, no, he had plenty of money still and if you were certain, his mother was still finding ways to slip him allowances and he'd managed to get a small chunk under the table and off the record from your publishers on your behalf. So no, it wasn't for money. Did he expect a better and firm, more sincere apology? Well he sure as shit wasn't going to get one now. Stupid, spoiled fuck. You outwardly scoff at the thought. What does he want that you have? The endgame is unknown but you were in the long game now, that much was apparent. You just had to not walk into verbal traps and wait for him to reveal his hand. But you guessed just by the times you've previously had with Hugh Ransom Drysdale that his hand wouldn't be revealed until he held the right cards.

True to his word Ransom came back what couldn't have been more than 15 minutes later. He handed you a plate containing a simple turkey sandwich, a bag of chips and a plastic bottle of water. “Just in case you get any ideas about smashing it and doing me in…” he said, placing it down.

“Murder is your speciality, not mine” you snarked back biting into your sandwich as the hunger you felt won out over the need to pee that you’d felt before. It was actually pretty good. The bread was fresh, the meat succulent, both more than likely from a deli and not a bog standard store. You ate eagerly, Ransom settled in the arm chair in the corner of the room by the low coffee table, his eyes watching you. You ignored him, concentrating on your food.

“So…” you said as you stuffed the last of your sandwich into your mouth “Are you gonna keep me down here?”

“Yup” he said simply, popping the P.

You swallowed and grabbed the water, cracking the top open and draining half of it in one, your hand trembling slightly. Thankfully you avoided spilling any. You screwed the top on and placed it back on the night stand and watched with horror as he rose from his seat and crossed towards you, sitting on the side of the bed

“So, because I don’t want anything to fuck up what we got here, sweetheart, I have a simple question which you’re gonna answer.” Ransom said, looking at you “Are you on birth-control?”

Your mouth dropped open as you glared at him.

“What the fuck?” you stuttered

“It’s a simple question that requires a yes or no answer.” His expression hadn’t changed, not one bit. Cool, calm and collected, like this was something he would simply ask anyone. As you stared at his smug face, your puzzlement at the seemingly straight outta left field question gave way to anger. He was asking you this, like it was his damned right to know, like he was your fucking boyfriend by choice.

“You tell me, I mean you thought of everything or so you took great pleasure in telling me last night.” You spat. Quick as a flash his hand grabbed your face, his fingers gripping your chin painfully and you let out a little whimper.

“Answer the question.” He said simply

And then you realised, it wasn’t really that out of left field at all was it? It was clear following last night what his intention for you was and like he’d want the added complication of any little surprises turning up in around 9 months. You swallowed, your eyes looked down

“Yes” you whispered, and he released your face.

“Good.” Ransom nodded “Makes things a lot easier.” “I’m not a sex toy, Hugh.” You glared at him and he looked back at you, giving a snort.

“You’ll be whatever I want you to be.” “You’re an asshole.”

“So it’s been said.” He shrugged simply, like he didn’t give a shit. Which, as you realised, he probably didn’t. People like him never did care what they came across like, arrogant trust fund prick.

With a sigh you pinched the bridge of your nose and glanced around the room you were in, as if you really hadn't paid much attention to it's details before. Ironically, if you weren’t here under duress it would actually be quite nice. The bed was large and comfy, there was a reasonably big bathroom attached which from what you could make out contained a fairly nice sized bath tub and a separate walk in shower cubicle. There was what looked like a built in closet next to the bathroom door, a night stand which contained a reading lamp to your right and on the opposite wall to the bed in front of you there was a dresser and a small shelf fixed to the wall a little higher, which was empty. To the left of the room was a large, plush armchair behind which another lamp was fixed to the wall and a fancy oak coffee table which matched the rest of the furniture. Above the chair, was a porthole like window, hexagonal in shape, but high enough to not allow for escape but for the warmth of daylight to seep into the space. 

A fucking studio apartment, that half of Boston would probably kill to own…and you were trapped in it. Well, certainly until you could think of a way to un-trap yourself so to speak.

You looked back at him and decided to keep pressing your luck a little. There were things you needed, starting with the bathroom, and you were damned if you were going to let him degrade you even more than he already had by letting you piss yourself.

“There are things I’m going to need.” You spoke, taking care to keep your voice neutral, attempting to avoid outwardly displaying the desperation you were feeling “A pee and a shower for one” you gestured with your head to the small bathroom.

“Well if you’re gonna behave, I’ll undo this.” He reached down and jangled the chain that was attached to the shackle round your ankle.

“Clothes too…”

“The closet is full.” He said simply “But you have to behave, Sweetheart, or you go right back on the chain.

You grit your teeth. Sweetheart, you were no more his sweetheart than he was Harlan’s favorite grandchild. “Like I have a choice.”

“You do.” He said simply “Behave or not.”

You let out a frustrated growl “I told you I was gonna, now just undo the fucking dog collar on my ankle.”

“Ooh, so feisty.” Ransom mocked and you glared at him.

With a chuckle he stood up and pulled the key out of his pocket, undoing the shackle round your ankle and stood back slightly. You moved and shuffled to the edge of the bed where he watched as you rose to your legs. However, after the ordeal you’d been through the night before, plus your no doubt whacky blood sugar level, your head span a little and you staggered forward. Ransom caught you, both his hands hooking under your arms as he helped you steady yourself, his touch surprisingly gentle as his hands slid down to your ribs, thumbs brushing underneath your breasts and you looked at him, blinking. His action had caught you off guard and if the look on his face was anything to go by it had caught him off guard too. There was a moment where you stood still before you remembered exactly what was going on and with an angry scoff you raised both your hands, palms flat on his chest and shoved him as hard as you could.

It didn’t move him much, a half a step back or so, but it was enough to make a point. The unexpected softness on his face turned to anger and a split second later his right hand was round your throat.

“I'm warning you…” he snarled, his large fingers flexing causing his grip to tighten, around your throat. He gave a sharp squeeze, not enough to cut off your airway, instead serving as a threat, telling you he could if he wanted to. He released his grip as the tears stung your eyes and he moved aside to allow you to move to the bathroom. You went as quickly as you could and once you were there you made to shut the door.

Only there wasn’t one. “Why the fuck is there no door?” you turned and faced him.

“Because I won’t clean up a dead body.” He shrugged “So before you get any dumb ideas, anything that could make you think about a means to an end isn’t in this room either.”

You looked at him, frowning before you realised what he meant and you shook your head. “Oh trust me, I’m not about to kill myself over you.”

“Good.” He said simply, “You have 10 minutes” he said, leaning on the frame where the door should have been.

“You’re not watching me pee, Hugh!”

At that his face darkened “Call me Hugh one more time, I dare you, Sweetheart.” His voice was laced with venom as his eyes flashed dangerously, but despite all that you couldn’t help yourself. It was the only weapon you had in your arsenal to deploy.

“Hugh.” you spat, raising an eyebrow.

His jaw clenched and in two large strides he was on you, his hand grabbing your forearm as he yanked you across the bathroom, your feet skidding on the tiles as you struggled for traction on the floor. You yelled out at the pain of his grip but no sooner had it started it stopped as he flung you unceremoniously into the shower cubicle. Your knees and hip collided painfully with the tray and you gave a scream as a torrent of freezing cold water hit you, soaking your sweater dress. You gasped and spluttered, struggling to your feet, the cold making your chest contract and he looked at you, his face back to its stony calm expression.

“10 minutes” he repeated.

He turned to go and in a fit of rage you peeled the icy, sodden jersey dress off and flung it at him. It hit him square in the back before it slid to the floor, splattering on the tiles in a sopping mess. You saw him take a deep breath, his broad shoulders rippling under his thermal ribbed top as he stood up square and turned to face you as you stood, teeth chattering in the still cold spray in nothing but your bra and laddered thermal tights.

“You’re really testing my patience, Sweetheart.” He intoned darkly, before he cocked an eyebrow “9 and a half minutes.” He left the bathroom and headed into the main room, and you turned away instantly cranking up the heat on the shower. As it warmed you through, the water beating down on you, you reached for the shower gel which was on a small shelf in the corner of the cubicle. You scrubbed and scrubbed, not caring how much you used, attempting to rid yourself of the dirty feeling of him as you recalled his hands all over you, his cock violating you in the way it had. You didn’t stop the tears falling, your resolve breaking, as you turned your face into the spray, allowing it to hide your tears, before you washed your hair in the shampoo and conditioner.  Eventually, when you’d done everything you could, you turned off the water, took a deep breath and squeezed your hair out before stepping out of the shower. Your eyes instinctively went to the doorway and you were relieved. You couldn’t see Ransom, which meant he didn’t have an eye-line directly into the shower, awarding you some level of privacy at least.

You grabbed a towel which you wrapped around yourself, before you took another and used it to squeeze your hair before you pulled it back into a messy bun out of the way, and stepped out of the bathroom.

 “That was 11 minutes.” Ransom said simply as you emerged into the main area of the basement “I’ll let the 90 seconds slide.”

You glared at him as he sat in the armchair, his broad frame filling it, right leg crossed over his left, an I don't give a fuck look about his face, and you knew at that moment you had never hated anyone more in your life than you hated him right then. You turned towards the closet and began to route through, the tears filling your eyes again as you concentrated on finding something to wear. You pulled a few things out, checking the tags. Not only did the prices shock you (it was all high end, designer stuff- what else would the spoilt, trust fund prick buy) but it was all your size. Which unnerved you no end. Pushing that to the back of your mind, as after all in the situation you were in it was the least of your worries, eventually you settled on a simple pale blue cashmere sweater, and a pair of jeans.

“Underwear?” you turned and looked at him. He nodded to the drawers built into the bottom of the closet and you opened it, taking a breath. Of course it would all be lace, sexy. You picked the most modest pair of black, lace French-style briefs you could find and the matching bra, tossing the lot onto the bed. You looked at him, cocking your eyebrow and he mimicked the action, gesturing with his hand.

“Don’t mind me.” The dismay washed over you as you realised what he meant and you took a deep breath “You’re gonna sit there and watch?”

“Yup.” He replied simply, popping the p loudly.

You bowed your head, knowing there was no point turning your back on him, he’d just force you to turn round. As you stared to pat yourself dry though your towel, you blinked back the tears as for some reason this felt far more humiliating and degrading that what he’d done to you last night.

****

Ransom wasn’t sure he’d ever exercised self-control like this, he normally just bought (or took) what he wanted, and before he’d wanted nothing more than to trace the beads of water which moved down her neck and back, collecting in the towel as she rifled through the closet. She reached for the panties first, and attempted to shimmy them on under the towel and he gave a click of his tongue.

“Oh no doll.” He smirked, “lose it.”

She glared at him, and he simply held her gaze, not looking away and eventually he saw her shoulder sag as she reached up with a shaking hand and unhooked the edge of the towel which was tucked in on itself and let it fall to the floor. He gave a loud hum of approval as he took her in, her long-lithe legs up to her hips, the curve of her waist, pert breasts and delicate shoulders and collar bone. She swallowed on air and he watched her throat bob, and he instantly found himself thinking how good she’d look swallowing something else. He shifted slightly in his seat, the crotch of his jeans now feeling a little tight thanks to his semi-hard cock, and she reached for the lace briefs stepping into them. As she shimmied them up, her breasts jiggled a little and he gave an inward groan. For a second he thought about stopping her, taking her there and then but now wasn’t the time. They had things to discuss, certain rules she needed to understand.

Plus, the waiting and the anticipation would simply heighten the pleasure later when he finally did fuck her again.

He remained still as she pulled on the rest of the clothes before she turned to him, her cheeks adorably flushed.

“Hairbrush?” she asked.

Ransom nodded to the dresser opposite the bed and she moved over towards it, opening one of the drawers. She reached in and pulled the item out, dragging it through her hair before she braided it quickly and then turned to him expectantly.

“Sit.” He said, gesturing to the bed. She did as she was told, sinking down onto the edge of it, her hands clasped in her laps, fingers of her right hand pulling at the ones in her left nervously.

“Ok…” he leaned forward, his hands resting on his knees as he looked at her “Here’s how it’s gonna work.”

At his words Y/N looked at him, and then her hands released each other and she folded her arms, crossing her legs on the bed, chewing on her cheek with a sullen look on her face. The look of someone that really didn’t want to listen but had no option.

Such a petulant brat.

“You’re gonna do what I tell you, when I tell you.” Ransom spoke calmly and authoritatively “If I want you, I’m gonna have you.” At that she took a shaky breath but her eyes remained on his as he continued “You behave, you’ll get rewarded. If you don’t, you’ll be punished.”

“Punished?” she sputtered. “What could possibly be a worse punishment than this?” she waved her hand and Ransom allowed himself a chuckle.

Oh, Doll, you have no idea…

“Do you really want to know?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow up.

“No.” she said, hanging her head slightly.

“Smart move.” He nodded.

“Anything else?” she looked back at him, the defiance once more filling her features.

“Yes, don’t call me Hugh.”

At that she smirked and he felt a flash of annoyance “Sorry, am I amusing you?”

“Nope.” She shook her head quickly, the smirk fading as quick as it had appeared.

“Good.” He said, his palms slapping his thighs as he stood up.

“Is that it?”

“For now.” He nodded.

“Do I get to make any rules?”

Ransom hesitated, and looked at her. He had to hand it to her, she was gutsy but that was part of the reason she was hear after all. He shook his head, chuckling slightly “This isn’t a negotiation.”

“Can I ask you for things?”

“I just said, this isn’t a negotiation.” He started to get a little bit irked at her attitude now, “You behave, you get things.”

“So you’re gonna leave me down here with nothing? No TV, no books, no stereo?”

“Behave and I’ll think about it.” He replied simply and when she sighed he knew she understood that arguing and bargaining with him was futile.

Ransom Drysdale bargained with no one.

“You know…” he said, stepping towards the bed and she instantly took a deep breath, shying away a little. The fact he had so much power over her was exhilarating and he smiled, stopping a foot or so away from the edge of the bed, his large frame towering over her. “I should shackle you again, for your back chatting and slapping me in the back with your wet clothes but I’m fair. I’ll let that go. I hadn’t explained my rules.”

She blinked up at him and he nodded towards the bathroom. “Put your dirty stuff in the hamper. I’ll be back later.”

As he strode towards the door he could have sworn he heard her mumble something, something that sounded suspiciously like she’d called him a prick. He stopped, smirking, before he fixed a hard look on his face and turned round.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.” She said quickly

“Thought not.” He nodded, and with that he turned and left, locking the numerous bolts on the door behind him.

**** With a lack of anything else to do you cleaned up the water from the bathroom floor and tossed everything into the hamper like you’d been told to do and then, taking advantage of your new found “freedom” so to speak you set about exploring every single nook and cranny of your ‘cell’. You found the bathroom was fully stocked with all sorts of toiletries, sanitary products (fuck, you didn’t even want to think about what he was going to do to get his sordid little kicks when Aunt Flow came to visit in 3 weeks or so), there was a little make up as well in the drawer in the vanity unit that you’d spotted before and you pulled it out to examine it, once again finding it to be not your usual brand but high end all the same. Finding all this was only compounding your confusion as to what the hell his goal was in all this, but as you had realised before until he decided to show you those cards, you would simply be playing a guessing game.

In the drawers under your bed you found a few different sets of linen which was a relief as it meant you weren’t going to be at his mercy as to when you could change your bedding. Given what had happened the night before, you were half tempted to change them again but you hesitated and decided to wait until later, because you had a sinking feeling he was going to take you again, especially given his declaration earlier.

“If I want you, I’m gonna have you.”

If that was how your life was going to go for the foreseeable, you’d be going through a hell of a lot of bedding if you changed it every time he fucked you. Much more than was contained in the drawers anyway.

Pushing that horrible thought from your head, you took a deep breath, focussing on staying calm, staying collected, staying alive. She needed her wits, her strength, her continued ability of self preservation. And, given the fact that he's murdered before, you weren't entirely trusting his word of not wanting to kill you. You closed the drawers and then settled yourself down on the floor at the side of the bed nearest the arm chair and low coffee table indulging in a few yoga stretches and the like in an attempt to ease out your still aching muscles. You were sat on the floor, with your legs extended, reaching for your toes when he came back and with a little smirk on his face handed you a book.

“For the boredom.”

You blinked and then took it from him, shaking your head as you realised it was one of his granddads, most likely his idea of a joke. And what was more it was one you’d already read.

Nevertheless, not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, you thanked him and then stood up and dropped into the chair, opening the cover. How long had passed you had no idea, but you were a good few chapters on when the trust fund ass wipe re-emerged, and the smell of food wafted across the room. He set a tray down on the bed and jerked his head towards it, in a silent instruction for you to vacate the seat. With a roll of your eyes you tried to get comfortable on the bed to eat with said tray balanced on your knee and with an exasperated groan you looked at him.

“Is there any chance of getting some form of table and chair so I can eat off it and not where I’m expected to sleep?”

He looked at you for a second, before he shrugged “I’ll think about it, depending on how you behave.”

The chicken was dry, but you ate it anyway, remembering your earlier thoughts about staying strong. As you chewed you watched him where he sat in the chair in the corner of the room, looking at something on his phone. Having had time to think things over even more, you knew you needed to play this clever, get him on your side, let him believe that you could be trusted if you wanted to stand any chance of getting out of here. With a deep breath you supressed the desire you had to simply remain silent, sullen even and spoke.

“Are you not eating?” you asked him and he looked at you, surprise on his face.

“I had a big lunch.” He responded simply.

“Well I hope it was better than this.” You arranged your face into the best playful look you could muster “Because, no offence, it sucks.”

Ransom looked at you, before he snorted “Yeah, cooking isn’t my forte.”

“Maybe I could do it.” You offered “I’m not a bad chef.”

His eyes locked on yours and you concentrated on keeping the look on your face innocent as he studied you. Eventually he spoke again “Maybe. If you behave.”

Again, the focus on your behaviour. He clearly wanted you to be good, compliant maybe. Bolstered by the slight progress you were making into maybe understanding what you needed to do you continued. “So, did you go anywhere nice? For lunch I mean.”

“The Harbor.” He responded “Food was good, company was slightly irritating.”

“Company?” the surprise in your tone was genuine

“I met my mother.”

“Oh.” You replied, looking back down at the plate as you blinked back the tears, the thought of your own mother filling your head. She would be beside herself now. You took a deep breath, you might be able to be compliant but you were damned if you were going to show him any weakness, that’s what he wanted. Instead, you took another bite of your meal and looked up at him. “That must have been nice for you.”

“Is that sarcasm?” Ransom asked in an amused tone and you rolled your eyes.

“No, I was being serious. Mind you, you don’t strike me as being close to your family so…” you shrugged and shovelled a soggy piece of broccoli into your mouth.

“You’re smart, we're not.” He shrugged “But she wanted to know how I was getting on.”

“Bet that conversation was positively riveting.” You smirked “And that was sarcasm by the way.”

Ransom scoffed “It wasn’t bad to be honest, that was until she steered it around to Marta.”

“Marta?” you frowned, pondering what on earth could have brought their conversation around to that. “Why did you talk about her?”

“What is this Jeopardy?” he arched an eyebrow at you and you rolled your eyes. “Why not, I'll take Drysdale family politics for my share of the inheritance, Alec…”

“Watch your mouth, Sweetheart.” His tone was warning and his face stony. You swallowed and looked down at the plate.

“Sorry.” You said, keeping up your act. Silence fell again and you finished the last of your dinner and set the tray on the nightstand.

Ransom took a deep breath “Seeing as you’re so interested, Marta has approached my mother and the family about holding a memorial for Harlan.” You looked at him, and his eyebrows raised. “Ironic huh, the bitch who stole what was mine is planning a memorial for my grandad when she’s responsible for his death.”

At that you scoffed, he really was unbelievable and just like that your resolve to be nice started to ebb away at his utter narcissism “Are you for real? You’re responsible for Harlan’s death, and as for taking what was yours, you never had anything, none of you did! It was Harlan’s, you didn’t earn it.” Ransom glowered at you but you continued, shaking your head with a derisive laugh. “You know, the fact he would rather leave it to his nurse than his own family says more about you all than it does about her."

“What did you just say?” His voice was low, and there was an unmistakable flash of anger on his face.

“You heard me. Not that I expect any of that to bother you, Hugh, you do and take what you want anyway and fuck whoever gets hurt in the crossfire…” at that you gestured around the room, “prime example…”

There was a pause and in an instance you realised your mistake. You’d called him inadequate and worse, had broken one of those fucking rules, called him Hugh. His whole demeanour had changed, he was pissed. His jaw was set, his eyes dark, his entire body rigid.

Shit.

In a flash he was off the chair. You reacted equally as quick, jumping off the bed in an attempt to put some distance in between you. Why, you had no idea, it wasn’t like you were going to stop him, but maybe if you could buy some time you could talk him down as you backed toward the door. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…” but your apology was cut off as he rounded the bed, grabbing your hair painfully, yanking your braid down so your head was tilted back, looking at him. You let out a scream of pain and moved your hands to grab at his wrists “Oww, shit…you’re hurting me!”

“Like I care.” He snarled “Now, we can do this the easy way or the hard way.”

That predatory look was back on his face and you knew you were in for it again, and your apologetic front flew completely from your mind. Like hell you were doing this without a fight.

“Fuck you.” You spat back.

“Hard way it is.” He shrugged.

His hand tightening around your hair, he manhandled you into the middle of the bed easily. You yelled, bucked, lashed out but as with the previous night you were simply no match for him. He easily pinned you down with his knees clamped either side of your hips, holding you in place as he yanked your sweater over your head, pulling it down your arms so they were pinned behind you back. It was uncomfortable but did the job perfectly you realised to your horror, because you couldn’t move your arms at all.

Ransom then moved, his large hands grabbing at the button on your waistband and you continued to struggle, trying to buck your hips but once more to no avail. He had your jeans and panties down to your knees easily, before he flipped you over so your face was pushed into the pillow where it muffled your screams slightly. 

One hand reached up, sliding round the front of your neck and he squeezed. This time it was harder than he had done earlier that day, and the pressure increased and increased, slowly shutting off your airway. You gasped, tears stinging in your eye as you desperately tried to move but it was pointless. Then, suddenly he eased off, and you drew in a harsh gasp of air, coughing and spluttering, still conscious that his fingers remained around your throat.

“Stop fighting it.” He instructed, his other hand sliding over your entrance, making you pull away from his touch, but to no avail as the hand that was on your throat slid down your spine and twisted the sweater, tightening your make shift restraints, jerking your arms even further behind your back. Your upper arms and shoulders screamed in protest and you let out a little sob of pain as he moved both his hands to your hips, tugging them up slightly. One hand trailed over your ass before he plunged two fingers into you and you jerked forward at the intrusion. Ransom groaned before he leaned over, his lips brushing your ear. “I can feel you. Your body doesn’t lie, Sweetheart.”

You turned your head away, pressing your cheek into the pillow and Ransom uncurled himself from over you and you felt him shift behind you. The tell-tale clanking of a belt buckle, followed by a zip and the rustling of fabric told you exactly what was coming. Despite your resolve to give him nothing, a choked whimper escaped your mouth and you turned you face, pressing it further into the pillow in an attempt to stifle your sobs.

“Oh no…” he said, one hand curling into your braid, yanking hard and jerking your head back. You cried out, your body was contorted in such an unnatural shape, back arched, arms pinned behind your spine, head jerked back. “I wanna hear you.”

He shuffled a little, and you felt the top of his cock teasing your entrance and then without warning he powered forward, stuffing you full, letting out a rumble of a growl as he did so.

“So fucking tight…” he grit out as he withdrew, then plunged straight back in, jerking your body as he did so. He took a few more deep, slow thrusts before he picked up the pace and began to piston into you, relentlessly. You felt each thrust, the slap of his balls slamming towards your clit. It hurt, just as it had done last time. He had zero self-control, grunting and growling as he bottomed out with every motion. The hand that was gripping your hip went beyond bruising, his dull nails biting at your skin as the other wound tighter around your braid, the odd angle of your body gritting at your joints. You were fighting tears and sobs as your body continued to betray you, soaking your walls, allowing his cock to slide in and out effortlessly. The hand against your hip glided along your side as a deep thrust came and you could feel it grip your breast between the mattress. His thumb brushing against your nipple through your bra. The friction of his piston thrusts, his hand forcing your bralete against your nipples and the yank of your hair was driving your body into sensory overload and filled you with burning sensations that verged on painful. The tip of his cock scrapped at your insides, no doubt bruising you. Your tears burned and your throat begged with dry thirst.

“Can feel you, Sweetheart…” he groaned, as he bottomed out, rotating his hips slightly making you cry out involuntarily “You feel close…you sound close…such a needy little slut.”

“I’m not a slut…” you sob, the feeble protest sounding as pathetic as you felt.

"Fucking look like one to me..." he growled, his hips rotating again, the burn in your stomach was now getting to hard to ignore. “Please…” you begged, “Just….stop…”

He answered your plea by driving deeper into you, picking up his pace once more and you felt yourself beginning to tumble.

"Oh God," the words flew from your mouth as your body shook violently and you took on your overload of orgasm and sensory extremes. You sobbed as your body betrayed you again with this man. Your mind screaming for understanding, your insides begging for more.

“Fuck…Sweetheart…” Ransom let out a groan as he picked up the pace, before after a few more deep thrusts, the hand that was holding your hair let go. Your head fell forward as you felt the warm ribbons of his come streak up your back before he released his hold on your hip and you collapsed onto the bed, your heart and self-respect shattered.

Every inch of your body ached thanks to the way you’d been contorted and as you lay still, trying to regain some control of your limbs you felt his hands press either side of your head and gave a sob as he leaned lean over your body, his ears brushing your lips.

“I'll take you like that every fucking day if I have to until you give in. Because you will.”

At that the feel of his chest that had been pressing into your back was gone and you heard a rustle of clothing and then footsteps across the floor before the door opened and his deep baritone filled the room once more.

“I would shackle you but I don’t think we need that anymore. You’re not going anywhere.” His tone was almost playful, like he was toying with you, teasing you. “I suggest you take a bath, you’re gonna be sore. That is, once you manage to work your way out of that sweater.”

And with a click followed by the familiar sliding of bolts you were sealed in your prison and you finally gave in to your tears as the sheer helplessness of your situation crashed over you in waves.

****

Part 3

[what-is-your-plan-today]

Murder, He Wrote

Part 2

Co-Written with @southerngracela​

Summary: After your ordeal at the hands of Ransom, you’re not sure that things can get any worse. Famous last words….

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.

Series Masterlist. 

With his pride wounded, Ransom drank himself to sleep that night, his mind plotting and scheming of more ways to make his point clear. She was his now and nothing was going to change that. He'd decided it might be time to let her in on his secrets and breakfast seemed as good a time as any and, as such, presented her with a plate of bacon and toast along with a cup of coffee to wash it down. He didn't cook, not well anyway, his preference being diner out or order in. He supposed if this was his new normal, he'd have to learn a new skill. He cringed just slightly at the thought of such domesticity. 

When you heard the locks turn, your belly dropped out. You were shocked to see him, afraid of what was coming your way. If the events from the previous night were any indication, you had to steel yourself to once again fight back. Your tired eyes took him in. A plate and mug in his hands, jeans over his long legs, boots on his feet. Broad shoulders covered by a white ribbed long sleeve thermal shirt, eyes cold and distant, arrogant smirk over his lips. A smirk of your own barely parted your lips as you took note of the now pink lines adorning his right cheek, courtesy of your nails biting at his skin in the attack. You turned away from him, your body instinctively curling in on itself, chain stopping you from balling up completely when he approached. Your mouth watered at the smell of the bacon and coffee. You were hungry but your body fought to ignore the pangs, offering him that satisfaction.

 "I'm not hungry," you managed, desperately irritated at how weak you sounded. 

"Starve then," he set the plate and mug on the nightstand at your bedside. He stood rooted there, arms crossed over his chest. 

"People are gonna be looking for me, you know," you point out, sitting up a little more, confidence growing by the second. 

“You don’t think I’ve already thought of that?” His hands moved from across his chest to his hips. 

As you looked at him, that maddening smug look present on his face it suddenly dawned on you that he might have been more calculating than you’d imagined. And then you understood. You figured out what the connection between him and the actor you’d been supposedly meeting was. None. None whatsoever, except that Lucas Lee had been easy, collateral damage. "You set him up," your brow rose and shock filled your voice. "Lucas Lee... You set him up. What the hell did you do?" 

"Sweetheart, the guy's a complete tool, he walked right into it and he'll walk right out. Just a couple of hours of questioning and he'll be let go," Ransom shrugged as if this were nothing. 

"You're disgusting," you seethe. This arrogant asshole used someone just to get to you and he was PROUD of it. You didn't know what you expected, but the notion of the reality was appalling.

"You don't know the half of it," he winked.

"You're never going to get away with this," you managed to threaten. The look in his eyes caught your breath as he leaned in close, hands on the mattress on either side of your hips. 

"I killed Fran, got away with that. I nearly killed Marta, same story," he said, popping a shoulder up. "The point is, Sweetheart, I'm that good, they'll never find you."

"My family, my friends…they'll go to the police. Mick, my boss, he'll want to know where I am after not showing up today. You can't possibly have thought of everything," you shook your head as you wondered just how long he'd been plotting this. You’d only met the asshole a few months ago, interviewed him for a couple of hours max and then released the article days later. How on earth had that transpired into this utter shirt-show? The thoughts were spiraling so fast in your mind, it was dizzying. 

"Your boss got an email this morning saying you no longer wanted to work for him, and as for your family and friends, well let’s just say I know where they are. I know your little sister's routine. I know the time your mom walks your dog, and that she does it alone.” Ransom continued and you felt the cold course through your body “You do as I say, and they're safe. If not, well, I can pick them off, one, by one, without even getting my hands dirty," he pulled back, standing over you. "So many criminal junkies in Boston, Sweetheart. Plenty who will take the fall for a little hit,” and with that he turned on his heel and walked to the door. 

The true reality of your situation set in and you felt sick to your stomach, despite your hunger. You felt clammy and overwhelmingly dizzy. He had you. If he'd gone this far, followed your family, set up a well-known actor, plotted this entire plan down to how to convince Mick you quit, in a scary short amount of time, just to get to you, you were fully trapped. 

"What happens if you lock me down here...and something happens to you?” Worry laced your words. 

He turned over his shoulder, "I don't give a fuck." And he slammed the door, the sound of the locks echoing in your room. 

In a gut reaction you grabbed the plate of food at threw it at the door where it shattered into pieces, the bacon and toast falling to the floor with it. You screamed as you threw it, for if you hadn't you'd have vomited where you led. 

**** Ransom heard the scream and the smash of the plate and paused half way up the stairs. He took a deep breath, contemplating going back down and teaching Y/N some damned manners before he decided to leave it. He’d given her enough to think about for the time being, and besides, he didn’t want to lower himself to delivering another slap to her face like he had done last night. In all honesty, he hadn’t been expecting the site of the bruise on her right cheek to unsettle him as much as it had done. Her pretty face shouldn’t be marked in anyway, and looking at it had simply reminded him how he’d lost control. Of all the things he’d done, he’d never hit a woman before, despite murder and attempted murder. It left a bad taste in his mouth all things considered and a nasty twist in his gut that felt almost like guilt. But it wasn’t guilt, that wasn’t something he did either…no, it was the fact that in all of his actions, even the diabolical ones, he’d remained calm and in control. Until last night. He’d been feral, wild even, and it wasn’t a feeling he relished. But she’d pushed him to it, provoked him. It was her fault, not his.

He shrugged on his coat and grabbed his keys, before he headed out, locking the door and climbing into his black Mercedes SUV. God he missed his beamer, but this was a lot less conspicuous, just as he needed at the moment. He slipped his sunglasses on to shield his eyes against the bright fall sun and set off towards the City.

His mother was already seated and waiting for him when he arrived at the Harbor. He walked over to her table, pulling off his sunglasses and sliding them into the pocket of his camel coat, removing his trademark silk scarf as he went. He handed them off to the help showing him to his seat, asking him to bring him a beer, and sat across from Linda, who was watching him carefully as she lounged back in her seat, properly dressed as ever in a crisp pair of black trousers and a white long sleeved silk blouse. With her legs crossed, she cut quite the imposing figure, but not to him.

Ransom greeted her with a stiff nod and she frowned and gestured to his face.

“What on earth have you done to your cheek?” she questioned, clearly noticing the scratch marks. Ransom hesitated for a second, “Things got a little rough last night, ” he shrugged but his smirk didn't quite reach his eyes. Linda let out a slight groan as she grimaced “Jesus Ransom, I don’t want to know about your sordid little bedroom antics,” she scalded. “Then don’t ask, Mother,” He drawled, not missing a beat.

“Oh believe me, I wish I hadn't.” Linda rolled her eyes.

Ransom looked down at the menu that was on the table in front of him, giving it a cursory glance already knowing what he was ordering, the same as he always did when he was here, before he took a deep breath and raised his eyes to his mother. She wasn’t one for small talk, and neither was he, so he decided to get straight to the point.

“Why are we here?” he demanded “I mean, aside from the obvious guilt driven task of having lunch with your son.” “If you're going to be a spoiled brat why did you even agree to meet me?” Linda shot back and Ransom smirked.

“What was it you always told me mom? No matter how rich you are, never turn down a free meal.”

“Snarky smart ass” Linda retorted and it was his turn to snort as her brow furrowed.

“Now, now Mother. Those frown lines are getting worse” he arched an eyebrow and she glared at him before she sighed.

“I wanted to see how you were, is that so hard to believe.” “In a word, yes.” He shrugged.

“Well, it’s true.” She reached for her glass of wine and took a sip. “I've not seen you since you moved house.”

Ransom rolled his eyes, Jesus he didn’t have time for this shit. He took a deep breath and looked at her as she eyed him expectantly, waiting for his answer “Just fine. I'm enjoying my new place.”

“So, you like it then?” Linda set her glass down and leaned back once more. “I must admit when it came on our books I thought it would suit you.”

“It's different than Kenoak, less modern, but it does the job” he said vaguely and saw her body language stiffen.

“If you don’t like it why did you buy it Ransom?” her tone was exasperated and he had to fight back the grin that was threatening to spread across his face at the fact he was riling her. It was always so damned easy.

“Well, my last place had kinda turned into a bit of a media circus.”

“Yeah, I expect that’s what happens when you're involved in a homicide” she snapped back.

“Say it a bit louder.” Ransom deadpanned “I don’t think they heard you over by the bar.”

“Believe me, that wasn’t intentional.” she held his gaze “Your Granddad’s death isn't something I find funny, Ransom. Not that it ever occurred to you."

Ransom sighed. He was starting to get annoyed under her scrutiny and really wasn’t in the mood for a deep dive into the events of the past year.

“Not of sound mind, Mother.” He said, his voice a little softer as he reminded her of the argument his brief had made which had ensured his acquittal from his crimes, hoping it would shut her up. “Remember?”

“I know son, I know.” Linda leaned over and gently lay her hand on his where it rested on the table. Ransom took a deep breath and shifted in his seat. Physical affection from her always made him uncomfortable as he wasn’t used to it, but for some reason it was heightened in that moment. He sat and pondered for a second on what he had just said. His brief had spun the line about him being under emotional duress due to his granddad cutting him out of his will and whilst there was an element of truth in it, he’d been of perfect mental capacity when he’d enacted his plan. But, if it helped his mother believe that her only son isn’t a monster then…whatever. He pulled his hand back from her and she sighed, clearly mistaking his discomfort for guilt.

 “You know, you used to be such an affectionate little boy, Ransom.” Linda looked at her hand as if his rebuttal had burned her before she shook her head and reached once more for her drink. “I often wonder where your dad and I went wrong.”

Ok, so this he could deal with. The reminder that he was a constant disappointment.

 “Hard to say.” He snarked “Somewhere between boarding school and Harvard maybe?”

She rolled her eyes “We did what we thought was best.” She set her now empty glass down. “Clearly in hindsight...”

Ransom was saved from her self-indulgent moment of soul searching by the waiter who set his beer down in front of him and asked if they were ready to order. Ransom gestured to his mother who asked for the house salad with a side of tempura prawns whilst he went for his usual, fillet steak with all the trimmings. It was obnoxiously expensive but what the hell, like he cared. Especially not when his Mother was paying...

He took a long pull from his beer as the waiter topped his mother’s glass up from the bottle that stood in the ice bucket next to their table before she thanked him and he disappeared.

“You’ve not asked me how your father is.” Linda looked at Ransom who narrowed his eyes. Why does she care about that? But, deciding it was as good a conversation change as any he shrugged.

“How's Richard?”

Linda rolled her eyes but for the first time since he arrived he noticed a little smirk flicker on her lips before she looked at him. “He’s still your dad Ransom" she reminded.

“Ok, how is my dearest dad? Still fucking the 30 year old au-pair?”

“Yes, apparently, he's taking her to the villa.”

Now that did make him frown. The Villa that they owned in Lake Gada was his mother’s pride and joy.

“Seriously? You're just gonna let him do that?” Ransom’s tone was surprised.

“I have no choice.” Linda took a deep breath “Our divorce isn't final and he's contesting me keeping the property. It's not as cut and dry as one would assume despite his infidelity, numerous infidelities even.”

“He signed a pre-nup, Mom.” Ransom reminded her and Linda nodded.

“I know, but the Villa wasn't part of it. It's the one thing he can hold over me and he's doing just that.” She took a sip of her drink and snorted “Dumb bastard has nothing so he figures why not try his luck here. Fact is, he gets nothing else.”

“Good.”  Ransom retorted, a little viciously and Linda eyed himself shrewdly.

“Careful Ransom, you almost sound like you care.” She smirked and he rolled his eyes, not gracing her with an answer. “Anyway, what are you doing with yourself these days?” she moved the conversation on “And I don't mean with women as we've already established when you sat down. Any hobbies or God forbid a job prospect I should know about?” “Aside from my love life, I’m actually writing mother, believe it or not.” He responded, amused at the visible look of shock that crossed her face.

“You're....writing?” her mouth dropped open before she hastily shut it.

“Don't sound too surprised, Linda,” Ransom let out a low chuckle as his mother rolled her eyes at his use of her name. “Granddad always said I had a flare for it. Just-” he paused for a moment before he shrugged “-well, I guess I never really used it much.”

Linda cocked her head to the side as she considered him for a moment before her face softened and once more Ransom felt uncomfortable at her change in demeanour. “He'd be proud of you. I suppose it's what he's always wanted for you, to find something for yourself.”

And there it was. The reminder that he was nothing but a trust fund prick, with no future and nothing of his own to live off. He took a deep breath, gritting his teeth slightly before he responded with a false air of nonchalance.

“I see that now.”

“Good. I'm pleased you do Son.” Linda nodded. “I'm not glad about how it all went down but...well, as dad used to say, things have a strange way of working out in the end.” It was a funny choice of words, Ransom thought, but before he had chance to dwell on it anymore their food arrived. The conversation slowed a little as they both ate, growing a little stilted in places as he told her vaguely what his writing project was about- a private detective- go figure. Linda moaned about more about his father, and then she dropped something casually into the conversation that really did surprise him, that they were planning a memorial for Harlan. 

"When?" he frowned, swallowing a mouthful of potato.

“The end of this month, possibly the first week in December. It'll be after Thanksgiving.” Linda waved her hand before she paused, hesitating a little as if she was deliberating whether or not to tell him this next bit. And when she did, he fully realised why. “It was Marta’s idea.” The mere mention of that name was enough to get his hackles up and he took a deep breath, the nerve in his jaw twitching. He looked at his mother as she watched him carefully before he looked away and took a drink of his beer. “Hmmm” was all he could muster.

“Hmmm? What's Hmm, Ransom?” Linda looked at him.

“I figured with Harlan gone she'd be out of our lives.” He shrugged, feeling his neck grow hot. That bitch was responsible for all of this in the first place, the reason he was done out of his inheritance. If she hadn’t got her claws into him none of his would have happened.

“Yes, well, as much as it sticks in my throat that she got everything maybe if we play ball she'll come round to actually giving us all what we're owed.” Linda shrugged “And that aside...it will be nice to remember him.”

The rest of the lunch passed with simple conversation, Ransom steering it well away from the subject of his family. When they’d finished his mother, as predicted, picked up the tab and together they headed outside to wait for the Valet to fetch their vehicles. His mother’s arrived first and she turned to him, the pair of them engaging in the awkward, stilted kissing of the cheeks before she promised him his quarterly check from his shares in her company should land next week. With a nod and a thanks he bid her good bye and a few moments later climbed into his own car and set off back home.

***** With a yell you sat bolt upright, taking a moment to get your bearings as you emerged from the troubled sleep you had fallen back into. Yes, you were still here, in Drysdale’s fucking basement. The tears stung your eyes as you lay back, taking some deep breaths as you attempted to ebb the panic which was setting in. Your situation was disgusting and dire, you were trapped and therefore, you knew you needed to ask for the things you needed, not wanted, just simply needed, or in time, Hugh could add you to his notch post of growing murder victims. The question was, exactly how far could you push him for anything? One wrong move, as you'd learned last night, and you'd be regretting ever uttering a syllable. But you refused to go quietly, you'd be further letting yourself down if you did. You didn't have it in you. However, just how dangerous he was or could be now was no longer lost on you, you had the physical reminder in the biting sting of your cheek, throbbing and tenderness you felt between your legs, and the slight bruising around your wrists where he had pinned them above your head. You hadn’t examined the rest of your body to see what damage he’d done, you didn’t want to.

You ached all over from being led or sat on this damned bed since you’d arrived. The chain attaching you to the bed post wasn’t long enough to allow you to stand up and stretch our your aching limbs so for now you had to settle for attempting to massage some feeling back into your calves, your eyes casting over the various tears and ladders in your thick tights which you’d pulled back up last night with trembling hands after he had violated you.

The door clicked open and your head jerked towards the door as you scrambled higher up the bed, pressing your back into the headboard. You watched as your captor strode in, a packet of Biscoff in his hand pausing as his foot crunched over the shattered remnants of the plate that you’d hurled at the door. He looked up at you, raising an eyebrow, as if he'd forgotten he'd heard you throw it this morning. 

“I don’t like cleaning up messes” He said simply as he stepped over it, shutting the door with his foot.

“Pity you killed the house keeper then” you glared at him as he shoved another cookie into his mouth.

“Who, Fran?” he asked with a scoff, his voice muffled by his food.

“How many other house keepers have you killed?” you shot back and he gave a snort.

“None.” Ransom shrugged nonchalantly “But for your information, Fran was a useless dimwit. She only cared about two things. Drugs and getting paid.”

You frowned, was that supposed to justify his actions in some way? He too only cared about getting paid and what money could do for him. “And you care about what exactly other than yourself?” you shot back. He looked at you, a smirk crossing his handsome face as she shoved yet another cookie into his mouth, chewing slowly.

At that point your stomach growled with hunger, just another way your body had betrayed since you since you had arrived and you tore your face from his, turning it to the side.

“Now are you hungry?” he asked as you realised that was probably the bastard’s plan all along. With a deep sigh you looked back at him.

“Can I have one?” you asked meekly.

Ransom studied you for a moment, tongue poking at his cheek, before he strode towards the bed and offered you the packet. You took one and stuffed it straight into your mouth.

“No thank you?”

“Piss off.” You shot back automatically, swallowing your cookie.

His good demeanour ebbed slightly as an irritated look flashed across his face. “Don’t push me, Sweetheart.” his voice was low as he sank onto the side of the bed, looking at you “I think your situation is precarious enough as it is, don’t you?”

You merely glared at him, you had no comeback. There was no comeback. He was right.

“Now if I make you something proper to eat are you gonna take it or throw it at the door again?” he raised his eyebrows “Because, frankly, you starving yourself is of no real concern to me except I kinda think you’re gonna need to keep your strength up.”

It didn’t take a genius to work out exactly what for. But you were so hungry, and the battle inside you raged on before your self-preservation mode won out and you hung your head slightly, looking at the comforter you were led on. “I’ll eat.”

“See, that wasn’t so hard was it?” Ransom smirked again.

“No.” you replied, your voice devoid of emotion. “Can I have some water too?”

“As long as you don’t throw the glass.”

“I’m thirsty.” You replied simply “I won’t.”

He nodded and stood up, offering you the packet of cookies “Have those for now.”

“Thank you.” You took them from him, your tone a little sarcastic, your eyes rolling as you spoke. He looked at you and for a moment you were worried he was about to do something about your response but he simply gave a huff of laughter and turned to leave.

“I’ll be back shortly.” He said, closing the door behind him. 

You could no longer bite back the sigh of delight as you took another of the buttery spiced cookies into your mouth. It was rich on your tongue but it was food and you were so hungry. What you wouldn't do for a cup of coffee to go with. You surveyed the room as you chewed the Biscoff thoughtfully. The earlier despair you’d felt upon waking just before he had re-appeared was slowly giving way to determination as you realised that for now practicality had to win you over. Not only did you need sustenance and water, which you knew was on the way, you also needed clothing and access to the bathroom, which you now realized you were desperate for.

So now what, you thought to yourself. The fact that he was willing to feed you despite the fact you’d launched your morning’s meal against the door meant he didn't want you dead. Mind you, if he did you wouldn’t have made it out of that fucking dilapidated house so, just what kind of a game was he playing at here? You weren't sure what his end game was if it didn't mean your certain death. You just didn't understand and felt the struggle of thoughts seep into your mind as you contemplated each step. He doesn't want you dead, but you're locked up, chained up and he's obliterated your body by force. And that was only the first round. So far he's voiced his hell bent plan on keeping you here and making you suffer. And he's done a right job at it after just the first night. He couldn't keep this up for the rest of your life, could he? No, you didn't think, but he's gone as far as to know your every day, your family's every day, detail for detail. It couldn't possibly be for ironically a ransom, no, he had plenty of money still and if you were certain, his mother was still finding ways to slip him allowances and he'd managed to get a small chunk under the table and off the record from your publishers on your behalf. So no, it wasn't for money. Did he expect a better and firm, more sincere apology? Well he sure as shit wasn't going to get one now. Stupid, spoiled fuck. You outwardly scoff at the thought. What does he want that you have? The endgame is unknown but you were in the long game now, that much was apparent. You just had to not walk into verbal traps and wait for him to reveal his hand. But you guessed just by the times you've previously had with Hugh Ransom Drysdale that his hand wouldn't be revealed until he held the right cards.

True to his word Ransom came back what couldn't have been more than 15 minutes later. He handed you a plate containing a simple turkey sandwich, a bag of chips and a plastic bottle of water. “Just in case you get any ideas about smashing it and doing me in…” he said, placing it down.

“Murder is your speciality, not mine” you snarked back biting into your sandwich as the hunger you felt won out over the need to pee that you’d felt before. It was actually pretty good. The bread was fresh, the meat succulent, both more than likely from a deli and not a bog standard store. You ate eagerly, Ransom settled in the arm chair in the corner of the room by the low coffee table, his eyes watching you. You ignored him, concentrating on your food.

“So…” you said as you stuffed the last of your sandwich into your mouth “Are you gonna keep me down here?”

“Yup” he said simply, popping the P.

You swallowed and grabbed the water, cracking the top open and draining half of it in one, your hand trembling slightly. Thankfully you avoided spilling any. You screwed the top on and placed it back on the night stand and watched with horror as he rose from his seat and crossed towards you, sitting on the side of the bed

“So, because I don’t want anything to fuck up what we got here, sweetheart, I have a simple question which you’re gonna answer.” Ransom said, looking at you “Are you on birth-control?”

Your mouth dropped open as you glared at him.

“What the fuck?” you stuttered

“It’s a simple question that requires a yes or no answer.” His expression hadn’t changed, not one bit. Cool, calm and collected, like this was something he would simply ask anyone. As you stared at his smug face, your puzzlement at the seemingly straight outta left field question gave way to anger. He was asking you this, like it was his damned right to know, like he was your fucking boyfriend by choice.

“You tell me, I mean you thought of everything or so you took great pleasure in telling me last night.” You spat. Quick as a flash his hand grabbed your face, his fingers gripping your chin painfully and you let out a little whimper.

“Answer the question.” He said simply

And then you realised, it wasn’t really that out of left field at all was it? It was clear following last night what his intention for you was and like he’d want the added complication of any little surprises turning up in around 9 months. You swallowed, your eyes looked down

“Yes” you whispered, and he released your face.

“Good.” Ransom nodded “Makes things a lot easier.” “I’m not a sex toy, Hugh.” You glared at him and he looked back at you, giving a snort.

“You’ll be whatever I want you to be.” “You’re an asshole.”

“So it’s been said.” He shrugged simply, like he didn’t give a shit. Which, as you realised, he probably didn’t. People like him never did care what they came across like, arrogant trust fund prick.

With a sigh you pinched the bridge of your nose and glanced around the room you were in, as if you really hadn't paid much attention to it's details before. Ironically, if you weren’t here under duress it would actually be quite nice. The bed was large and comfy, there was a reasonably big bathroom attached which from what you could make out contained a fairly nice sized bath tub and a separate walk in shower cubicle. There was what looked like a built in closet next to the bathroom door, a night stand which contained a reading lamp to your right and on the opposite wall to the bed in front of you there was a dresser and a small shelf fixed to the wall a little higher, which was empty. To the left of the room was a large, plush armchair behind which another lamp was fixed to the wall and a fancy oak coffee table which matched the rest of the furniture. Above the chair, was a porthole like window, hexagonal in shape, but high enough to not allow for escape but for the warmth of daylight to seep into the space. 

A fucking studio apartment, that half of Boston would probably kill to own…and you were trapped in it. Well, certainly until you could think of a way to un-trap yourself so to speak.

You looked back at him and decided to keep pressing your luck a little. There were things you needed, starting with the bathroom, and you were damned if you were going to let him degrade you even more than he already had by letting you piss yourself.

“There are things I’m going to need.” You spoke, taking care to keep your voice neutral, attempting to avoid outwardly displaying the desperation you were feeling “A pee and a shower for one” you gestured with your head to the small bathroom.

“Well if you’re gonna behave, I’ll undo this.” He reached down and jangled the chain that was attached to the shackle round your ankle.

“Clothes too…”

“The closet is full.” He said simply “But you have to behave, Sweetheart, or you go right back on the chain.

You grit your teeth. Sweetheart, you were no more his sweetheart than he was Harlan’s favorite grandchild. “Like I have a choice.”

“You do.” He said simply “Behave or not.”

You let out a frustrated growl “I told you I was gonna, now just undo the fucking dog collar on my ankle.”

“Ooh, so feisty.” Ransom mocked and you glared at him.

With a chuckle he stood up and pulled the key out of his pocket, undoing the shackle round your ankle and stood back slightly. You moved and shuffled to the edge of the bed where he watched as you rose to your legs. However, after the ordeal you’d been through the night before, plus your no doubt whacky blood sugar level, your head span a little and you staggered forward. Ransom caught you, both his hands hooking under your arms as he helped you steady yourself, his touch surprisingly gentle as his hands slid down to your ribs, thumbs brushing underneath your breasts and you looked at him, blinking. His action had caught you off guard and if the look on his face was anything to go by it had caught him off guard too. There was a moment where you stood still before you remembered exactly what was going on and with an angry scoff you raised both your hands, palms flat on his chest and shoved him as hard as you could.

It didn’t move him much, a half a step back or so, but it was enough to make a point. The unexpected softness on his face turned to anger and a split second later his right hand was round your throat.

“I'm warning you…” he snarled, his large fingers flexing causing his grip to tighten, around your throat. He gave a sharp squeeze, not enough to cut off your airway, instead serving as a threat, telling you he could if he wanted to. He released his grip as the tears stung your eyes and he moved aside to allow you to move to the bathroom. You went as quickly as you could and once you were there you made to shut the door.

Only there wasn’t one. “Why the fuck is there no door?” you turned and faced him.

“Because I won’t clean up a dead body.” He shrugged “So before you get any dumb ideas, anything that could make you think about a means to an end isn’t in this room either.”

You looked at him, frowning before you realised what he meant and you shook your head. “Oh trust me, I’m not about to kill myself over you.”

“Good.” He said simply, “You have 10 minutes” he said, leaning on the frame where the door should have been.

“You’re not watching me pee, Hugh!”

At that his face darkened “Call me Hugh one more time, I dare you, Sweetheart.” His voice was laced with venom as his eyes flashed dangerously, but despite all that you couldn’t help yourself. It was the only weapon you had in your arsenal to deploy.

“Hugh.” you spat, raising an eyebrow.

His jaw clenched and in two large strides he was on you, his hand grabbing your forearm as he yanked you across the bathroom, your feet skidding on the tiles as you struggled for traction on the floor. You yelled out at the pain of his grip but no sooner had it started it stopped as he flung you unceremoniously into the shower cubicle. Your knees and hip collided painfully with the tray and you gave a scream as a torrent of freezing cold water hit you, soaking your sweater dress. You gasped and spluttered, struggling to your feet, the cold making your chest contract and he looked at you, his face back to its stony calm expression.

“10 minutes” he repeated.

He turned to go and in a fit of rage you peeled the icy, sodden jersey dress off and flung it at him. It hit him square in the back before it slid to the floor, splattering on the tiles in a sopping mess. You saw him take a deep breath, his broad shoulders rippling under his thermal ribbed top as he stood up square and turned to face you as you stood, teeth chattering in the still cold spray in nothing but your bra and laddered thermal tights.

“You’re really testing my patience, Sweetheart.” He intoned darkly, before he cocked an eyebrow “9 and a half minutes.” He left the bathroom and headed into the main room, and you turned away instantly cranking up the heat on the shower. As it warmed you through, the water beating down on you, you reached for the shower gel which was on a small shelf in the corner of the cubicle. You scrubbed and scrubbed, not caring how much you used, attempting to rid yourself of the dirty feeling of him as you recalled his hands all over you, his cock violating you in the way it had. You didn’t stop the tears falling, your resolve breaking, as you turned your face into the spray, allowing it to hide your tears, before you washed your hair in the shampoo and conditioner.  Eventually, when you’d done everything you could, you turned off the water, took a deep breath and squeezed your hair out before stepping out of the shower. Your eyes instinctively went to the doorway and you were relieved. You couldn’t see Ransom, which meant he didn’t have an eye-line directly into the shower, awarding you some level of privacy at least.

You grabbed a towel which you wrapped around yourself, before you took another and used it to squeeze your hair before you pulled it back into a messy bun out of the way, and stepped out of the bathroom.

 “That was 11 minutes.” Ransom said simply as you emerged into the main area of the basement “I’ll let the 90 seconds slide.”

You glared at him as he sat in the armchair, his broad frame filling it, right leg crossed over his left, an I don't give a fuck look about his face, and you knew at that moment you had never hated anyone more in your life than you hated him right then. You turned towards the closet and began to route through, the tears filling your eyes again as you concentrated on finding something to wear. You pulled a few things out, checking the tags. Not only did the prices shock you (it was all high end, designer stuff- what else would the spoilt, trust fund prick buy) but it was all your size. Which unnerved you no end. Pushing that to the back of your mind, as after all in the situation you were in it was the least of your worries, eventually you settled on a simple pale blue cashmere sweater, and a pair of jeans.

“Underwear?” you turned and looked at him. He nodded to the drawers built into the bottom of the closet and you opened it, taking a breath. Of course it would all be lace, sexy. You picked the most modest pair of black, lace French-style briefs you could find and the matching bra, tossing the lot onto the bed. You looked at him, cocking your eyebrow and he mimicked the action, gesturing with his hand.

“Don’t mind me.” The dismay washed over you as you realised what he meant and you took a deep breath “You’re gonna sit there and watch?”

“Yup.” He replied simply, popping the p loudly.

You bowed your head, knowing there was no point turning your back on him, he’d just force you to turn round. As you stared to pat yourself dry though your towel, you blinked back the tears as for some reason this felt far more humiliating and degrading that what he’d done to you last night.

****

Ransom wasn’t sure he’d ever exercised self-control like this, he normally just bought (or took) what he wanted, and before he’d wanted nothing more than to trace the beads of water which moved down her neck and back, collecting in the towel as she rifled through the closet. She reached for the panties first, and attempted to shimmy them on under the towel and he gave a click of his tongue.

“Oh no doll.” He smirked, “lose it.”

She glared at him, and he simply held her gaze, not looking away and eventually he saw her shoulder sag as she reached up with a shaking hand and unhooked the edge of the towel which was tucked in on itself and let it fall to the floor. He gave a loud hum of approval as he took her in, her long-lithe legs up to her hips, the curve of her waist, pert breasts and delicate shoulders and collar bone. She swallowed on air and he watched her throat bob, and he instantly found himself thinking how good she’d look swallowing something else. He shifted slightly in his seat, the crotch of his jeans now feeling a little tight thanks to his semi-hard cock, and she reached for the lace briefs stepping into them. As she shimmied them up, her breasts jiggled a little and he gave an inward groan. For a second he thought about stopping her, taking her there and then but now wasn’t the time. They had things to discuss, certain rules she needed to understand.

Plus, the waiting and the anticipation would simply heighten the pleasure later when he finally did fuck her again.

He remained still as she pulled on the rest of the clothes before she turned to him, her cheeks adorably flushed.

“Hairbrush?” she asked.

Ransom nodded to the dresser opposite the bed and she moved over towards it, opening one of the drawers. She reached in and pulled the item out, dragging it through her hair before she braided it quickly and then turned to him expectantly.

“Sit.” He said, gesturing to the bed. She did as she was told, sinking down onto the edge of it, her hands clasped in her laps, fingers of her right hand pulling at the ones in her left nervously.

“Ok…” he leaned forward, his hands resting on his knees as he looked at her “Here’s how it’s gonna work.”

At his words Y/N looked at him, and then her hands released each other and she folded her arms, crossing her legs on the bed, chewing on her cheek with a sullen look on her face. The look of someone that really didn’t want to listen but had no option.

Such a petulant brat.

“You’re gonna do what I tell you, when I tell you.” Ransom spoke calmly and authoritatively “If I want you, I’m gonna have you.” At that she took a shaky breath but her eyes remained on his as he continued “You behave, you’ll get rewarded. If you don’t, you’ll be punished.”

“Punished?” she sputtered. “What could possibly be a worse punishment than this?” she waved her hand and Ransom allowed himself a chuckle.

Oh, Doll, you have no idea…

“Do you really want to know?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow up.

“No.” she said, hanging her head slightly.

“Smart move.” He nodded.

“Anything else?” she looked back at him, the defiance once more filling her features.

“Yes, don’t call me Hugh.”

At that she smirked and he felt a flash of annoyance “Sorry, am I amusing you?”

“Nope.” She shook her head quickly, the smirk fading as quick as it had appeared.

“Good.” He said, his palms slapping his thighs as he stood up.

“Is that it?”

“For now.” He nodded.

“Do I get to make any rules?”

Ransom hesitated, and looked at her. He had to hand it to her, she was gutsy but that was part of the reason she was hear after all. He shook his head, chuckling slightly “This isn’t a negotiation.”

“Can I ask you for things?”

“I just said, this isn’t a negotiation.” He started to get a little bit irked at her attitude now, “You behave, you get things.”

“So you’re gonna leave me down here with nothing? No TV, no books, no stereo?”

“Behave and I’ll think about it.” He replied simply and when she sighed he knew she understood that arguing and bargaining with him was futile.

Ransom Drysdale bargained with no one.

“You know…” he said, stepping towards the bed and she instantly took a deep breath, shying away a little. The fact he had so much power over her was exhilarating and he smiled, stopping a foot or so away from the edge of the bed, his large frame towering over her. “I should shackle you again, for your back chatting and slapping me in the back with your wet clothes but I’m fair. I’ll let that go. I hadn’t explained my rules.”

She blinked up at him and he nodded towards the bathroom. “Put your dirty stuff in the hamper. I’ll be back later.”

As he strode towards the door he could have sworn he heard her mumble something, something that sounded suspiciously like she’d called him a prick. He stopped, smirking, before he fixed a hard look on his face and turned round.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.” She said quickly

“Thought not.” He nodded, and with that he turned and left, locking the numerous bolts on the door behind him.

**** With a lack of anything else to do you cleaned up the water from the bathroom floor and tossed everything into the hamper like you’d been told to do and then, taking advantage of your new found “freedom” so to speak you set about exploring every single nook and cranny of your ‘cell’. You found the bathroom was fully stocked with all sorts of toiletries, sanitary products (fuck, you didn’t even want to think about what he was going to do to get his sordid little kicks when Aunt Flow came to visit in 3 weeks or so), there was a little make up as well in the drawer in the vanity unit that you’d spotted before and you pulled it out to examine it, once again finding it to be not your usual brand but high end all the same. Finding all this was only compounding your confusion as to what the hell his goal was in all this, but as you had realised before until he decided to show you those cards, you would simply be playing a guessing game.

In the drawers under your bed you found a few different sets of linen which was a relief as it meant you weren’t going to be at his mercy as to when you could change your bedding. Given what had happened the night before, you were half tempted to change them again but you hesitated and decided to wait until later, because you had a sinking feeling he was going to take you again, especially given his declaration earlier.

“If I want you, I’m gonna have you.”

If that was how your life was going to go for the foreseeable, you’d be going through a hell of a lot of bedding if you changed it every time he fucked you. Much more than was contained in the drawers anyway.

Pushing that horrible thought from your head, you took a deep breath, focussing on staying calm, staying collected, staying alive. She needed her wits, her strength, her continued ability of self preservation. And, given the fact that he's murdered before, you weren't entirely trusting his word of not wanting to kill you. You closed the drawers and then settled yourself down on the floor at the side of the bed nearest the arm chair and low coffee table indulging in a few yoga stretches and the like in an attempt to ease out your still aching muscles. You were sat on the floor, with your legs extended, reaching for your toes when he came back and with a little smirk on his face handed you a book.

“For the boredom.”

You blinked and then took it from him, shaking your head as you realised it was one of his granddads, most likely his idea of a joke. And what was more it was one you’d already read.

Nevertheless, not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, you thanked him and then stood up and dropped into the chair, opening the cover. How long had passed you had no idea, but you were a good few chapters on when the trust fund ass wipe re-emerged, and the smell of food wafted across the room. He set a tray down on the bed and jerked his head towards it, in a silent instruction for you to vacate the seat. With a roll of your eyes you tried to get comfortable on the bed to eat with said tray balanced on your knee and with an exasperated groan you looked at him.

“Is there any chance of getting some form of table and chair so I can eat off it and not where I’m expected to sleep?”

He looked at you for a second, before he shrugged “I’ll think about it, depending on how you behave.”

The chicken was dry, but you ate it anyway, remembering your earlier thoughts about staying strong. As you chewed you watched him where he sat in the chair in the corner of the room, looking at something on his phone. Having had time to think things over even more, you knew you needed to play this clever, get him on your side, let him believe that you could be trusted if you wanted to stand any chance of getting out of here. With a deep breath you supressed the desire you had to simply remain silent, sullen even and spoke.

“Are you not eating?” you asked him and he looked at you, surprise on his face.

“I had a big lunch.” He responded simply.

“Well I hope it was better than this.” You arranged your face into the best playful look you could muster “Because, no offence, it sucks.”

Ransom looked at you, before he snorted “Yeah, cooking isn’t my forte.”

“Maybe I could do it.” You offered “I’m not a bad chef.”

His eyes locked on yours and you concentrated on keeping the look on your face innocent as he studied you. Eventually he spoke again “Maybe. If you behave.”

Again, the focus on your behaviour. He clearly wanted you to be good, compliant maybe. Bolstered by the slight progress you were making into maybe understanding what you needed to do you continued. “So, did you go anywhere nice? For lunch I mean.”

“The Harbor.” He responded “Food was good, company was slightly irritating.”

“Company?” the surprise in your tone was genuine

“I met my mother.”

“Oh.” You replied, looking back down at the plate as you blinked back the tears, the thought of your own mother filling your head. She would be beside herself now. You took a deep breath, you might be able to be compliant but you were damned if you were going to show him any weakness, that’s what he wanted. Instead, you took another bite of your meal and looked up at him. “That must have been nice for you.”

“Is that sarcasm?” Ransom asked in an amused tone and you rolled your eyes.

“No, I was being serious. Mind you, you don’t strike me as being close to your family so…” you shrugged and shovelled a soggy piece of broccoli into your mouth.

“You’re smart, we're not.” He shrugged “But she wanted to know how I was getting on.”

“Bet that conversation was positively riveting.” You smirked “And that was sarcasm by the way.”

Ransom scoffed “It wasn’t bad to be honest, that was until she steered it around to Marta.”

“Marta?” you frowned, pondering what on earth could have brought their conversation around to that. “Why did you talk about her?”

“What is this Jeopardy?” he arched an eyebrow at you and you rolled your eyes. “Why not, I'll take Drysdale family politics for my share of the inheritance, Alec…”

“Watch your mouth, Sweetheart.” His tone was warning and his face stony. You swallowed and looked down at the plate.

“Sorry.” You said, keeping up your act. Silence fell again and you finished the last of your dinner and set the tray on the nightstand.

Ransom took a deep breath “Seeing as you’re so interested, Marta has approached my mother and the family about holding a memorial for Harlan.” You looked at him, and his eyebrows raised. “Ironic huh, the bitch who stole what was mine is planning a memorial for my grandad when she’s responsible for his death.”

At that you scoffed, he really was unbelievable and just like that your resolve to be nice started to ebb away at his utter narcissism “Are you for real? You’re responsible for Harlan’s death, and as for taking what was yours, you never had anything, none of you did! It was Harlan’s, you didn’t earn it.” Ransom glowered at you but you continued, shaking your head with a derisive laugh. “You know, the fact he would rather leave it to his nurse than his own family says more about you all than it does about her."

“What did you just say?” His voice was low, and there was an unmistakable flash of anger on his face.

“You heard me. Not that I expect any of that to bother you, Hugh, you do and take what you want anyway and fuck whoever gets hurt in the crossfire…” at that you gestured around the room, “prime example…”

There was a pause and in an instance you realised your mistake. You’d called him inadequate and worse, had broken one of those fucking rules, called him Hugh. His whole demeanour had changed, he was pissed. His jaw was set, his eyes dark, his entire body rigid.

Shit.

In a flash he was off the chair. You reacted equally as quick, jumping off the bed in an attempt to put some distance in between you. Why, you had no idea, it wasn’t like you were going to stop him, but maybe if you could buy some time you could talk him down as you backed toward the door. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…” but your apology was cut off as he rounded the bed, grabbing your hair painfully, yanking your braid down so your head was tilted back, looking at him. You let out a scream of pain and moved your hands to grab at his wrists “Oww, shit…you’re hurting me!”

“Like I care.” He snarled “Now, we can do this the easy way or the hard way.”

That predatory look was back on his face and you knew you were in for it again, and your apologetic front flew completely from your mind. Like hell you were doing this without a fight.

“Fuck you.” You spat back.

“Hard way it is.” He shrugged.

His hand tightening around your hair, he manhandled you into the middle of the bed easily. You yelled, bucked, lashed out but as with the previous night you were simply no match for him. He easily pinned you down with his knees clamped either side of your hips, holding you in place as he yanked your sweater over your head, pulling it down your arms so they were pinned behind you back. It was uncomfortable but did the job perfectly you realised to your horror, because you couldn’t move your arms at all.

Ransom then moved, his large hands grabbing at the button on your waistband and you continued to struggle, trying to buck your hips but once more to no avail. He had your jeans and panties down to your knees easily, before he flipped you over so your face was pushed into the pillow where it muffled your screams slightly. 

One hand reached up, sliding round the front of your neck and he squeezed. This time it was harder than he had done earlier that day, and the pressure increased and increased, slowly shutting off your airway. You gasped, tears stinging in your eye as you desperately tried to move but it was pointless. Then, suddenly he eased off, and you drew in a harsh gasp of air, coughing and spluttering, still conscious that his fingers remained around your throat.

“Stop fighting it.” He instructed, his other hand sliding over your entrance, making you pull away from his touch, but to no avail as the hand that was on your throat slid down your spine and twisted the sweater, tightening your make shift restraints, jerking your arms even further behind your back. Your upper arms and shoulders screamed in protest and you let out a little sob of pain as he moved both his hands to your hips, tugging them up slightly. One hand trailed over your ass before he plunged two fingers into you and you jerked forward at the intrusion. Ransom groaned before he leaned over, his lips brushing your ear. “I can feel you. Your body doesn’t lie, Sweetheart.”

You turned your head away, pressing your cheek into the pillow and Ransom uncurled himself from over you and you felt him shift behind you. The tell-tale clanking of a belt buckle, followed by a zip and the rustling of fabric told you exactly what was coming. Despite your resolve to give him nothing, a choked whimper escaped your mouth and you turned you face, pressing it further into the pillow in an attempt to stifle your sobs.

“Oh no…” he said, one hand curling into your braid, yanking hard and jerking your head back. You cried out, your body was contorted in such an unnatural shape, back arched, arms pinned behind your spine, head jerked back. “I wanna hear you.”

He shuffled a little, and you felt the top of his cock teasing your entrance and then without warning he powered forward, stuffing you full, letting out a rumble of a growl as he did so.

“So fucking tight…” he grit out as he withdrew, then plunged straight back in, jerking your body as he did so. He took a few more deep, slow thrusts before he picked up the pace and began to piston into you, relentlessly. You felt each thrust, the slap of his balls slamming towards your clit. It hurt, just as it had done last time. He had zero self-control, grunting and growling as he bottomed out with every motion. The hand that was gripping your hip went beyond bruising, his dull nails biting at your skin as the other wound tighter around your braid, the odd angle of your body gritting at your joints. You were fighting tears and sobs as your body continued to betray you, soaking your walls, allowing his cock to slide in and out effortlessly. The hand against your hip glided along your side as a deep thrust came and you could feel it grip your breast between the mattress. His thumb brushing against your nipple through your bra. The friction of his piston thrusts, his hand forcing your bralete against your nipples and the yank of your hair was driving your body into sensory overload and filled you with burning sensations that verged on painful. The tip of his cock scrapped at your insides, no doubt bruising you. Your tears burned and your throat begged with dry thirst.

“Can feel you, Sweetheart…” he groaned, as he bottomed out, rotating his hips slightly making you cry out involuntarily “You feel close…you sound close…such a needy little slut.”

“I’m not a slut…” you sob, the feeble protest sounding as pathetic as you felt.

"Fucking look like one to me..." he growled, his hips rotating again, the burn in your stomach was now getting to hard to ignore. “Please…” you begged, “Just….stop…”

He answered your plea by driving deeper into you, picking up his pace once more and you felt yourself beginning to tumble.

"Oh God," the words flew from your mouth as your body shook violently and you took on your overload of orgasm and sensory extremes. You sobbed as your body betrayed you again with this man. Your mind screaming for understanding, your insides begging for more.

“Fuck…Sweetheart…” Ransom let out a groan as he picked up the pace, before after a few more deep thrusts, the hand that was holding your hair let go. Your head fell forward as you felt the warm ribbons of his come streak up your back before he released his hold on your hip and you collapsed onto the bed, your heart and self-respect shattered.

Every inch of your body ached thanks to the way you’d been contorted and as you lay still, trying to regain some control of your limbs you felt his hands press either side of your head and gave a sob as he leaned lean over your body, his ears brushing your lips.

“I'll take you like that every fucking day if I have to until you give in. Because you will.”

At that the feel of his chest that had been pressing into your back was gone and you heard a rustle of clothing and then footsteps across the floor before the door opened and his deep baritone filled the room once more.

“I would shackle you but I don’t think we need that anymore. You’re not going anywhere.” His tone was almost playful, like he was toying with you, teasing you. “I suggest you take a bath, you’re gonna be sore. That is, once you manage to work your way out of that sweater.”

And with a click followed by the familiar sliding of bolts you were sealed in your prison and you finally gave in to your tears as the sheer helplessness of your situation crashed over you in waves.

[sagemusesoutloud]

Anti-Romantic, Part 4

(credit to the original owner of the image)

Character | Jaehyun x reader

Genre | nonidol!au, Mutual Pining, Slowburn, Fluff, Angst

WordCount | 1.5 k

WARNING | Mentions of verbally abusing relationships! It's brief, but there. If you or anyone is going through something similar, please seek outside help!

Author'sNote | I'm not giving excuses as to why it took so long to update, but I'm trying my hardest to be consistent! Let me know if you like how the story is going so far!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 4.5

Sorry I’m an anti-romantic, I don’t believe in romantic

I am afraid that it will burn my whole heart, It will only leave behind ashes.

When you were younger, your family used to call you ‘spitfire.’ They said you were too fiery, argued too well, and too passionate. They had never meant it as an insult, in a way, it was a form of flattery. You grew up as the only female cousin in your family, but you were always leading your cousins on whatever diabolical plan it was that you had come up with: sneaking off to kitchen in the middle of the night to eat all the pastries meant for the morning after, convincing everyone that leaving your grandma’s territory and into the forest in the middle of the night to see if you can find the fairies, racing along the town’s border to see who was the fastest on their bike, and many other child-like plans. You were tough and you were proud, you never allowed yourself to lose.

Later on in life, that same nickname evolved to a less loving version. As you grew older and started to date, your partners always called you out for having strong opinions and for not bending at their will. They never saw you for what you wanted to be; which was an equal. If they said something against one of your friends, they expected you to throw away the friendship. All because they were the opposite sex and made your partner insecure. How could a girl and boy only be friends? Later on, when rumors would spread about your partner and other girls, they would get exasperated with you. If they’d get caught, they would only blame you for being too stiff.

“Why couldn’t you be more passive? If I want to kiss you, I’ll kiss you. You’re my girlfriend, why the fuck would I need permission? Is that what your ‘guy friends’ do? I bet you’ve let them all have a run at you, huh? Keep acting like a bitch, get treated like a bitch. And you wonder why I cheated? What a joke.”

You had to admit, you didn’t really date the greatest of guys. But you could say that now, because you knew now. Back then, you really thought you deserved those kinds of relationships. Like how they say, you only accept the love you think you deserve. However, in a way, it was why you were the way you were now. You always made it a point to communicate and avoid misunderstandings because you didn’t want your partners to throw your words back at you or your actions. It’s why you treaded carefully and avoided one-night stands. You’d rather get to know a person first and then start dating. It’s the exact reason the date you had with that other barista didn’t go through, majority of the guys you talked to thought you were too much work and therefore, not worth it.

Now that you’re an adult, you’d rather be too much work than let a guy walk all over you. Boundaries were important to you because how else were you supposed to gauge their respect for you? You had a tight grip on your morals and rules.

But damn, you’re only human!

The moment your lips crashed, it’s as if the only thing you could keep in mind was one word.

More.

You needed more of him, needed to breathe the same air as him, needed to feel every ridge of his hard body against your soft one, needed to cling to him as close as possible and for as long as possible.It’s as if his lips were the only reason you needed to dive into whatever this was. You were tired of keeping a strong hold on yourself. All that boiling anger turning into dangerous tension, and the only way to release it was to give into the passion between you two.

You settled your arms around his neck, taking that last step closer into him as he cradled your face and deepened the kiss. His other arm wound tightly around you, hand sliding dangerously close to your ass. You feel a deep groan against your chest, one of your hands wandering down his torso, enjoying the shiver you feel as you move lower. His tongue swipes at your bottom lip, a question, so you reply by opening your mouth, tongues fighting for dominance. For every move you delivered, he retaliates just as ardently. You feel your head grow lightheaded as you bring your hands to hold on to his shirt, anything to stabilize you. His hand finally squeezing your ass, shifting you closer to his hips. Oh, lord.

You let out a moan as he bites your lower lip, his kisses descending as you fight to catch your breath. You involuntary let out a whimper as he finds your pulse point and sucks the skin, soothing it with light kisses. Leaving behind a trail of purple blotches, beautifully contrasted against your skin. You’d never been into marking, had it always felt this good?

“Jae…” you can’t think, you can’t even stand properly as he pushes you with his hips against the counter for support. You don’t even know what you wanted to say, do you want to ask for more? What do you want?

“God, I’ve wanted to do this for years.” You pause at that, your hands freezing on their tight grip on his shirt. You feel as if someone had just dumped a bucket of ice water at you, your rationality finally catching up with you.

He leans back to look at you, “if you’re going to stop me, do it now because if you don’t say anything I’ll keep going. And I don’t think I can stop on my own.” His hands drawing gentle, tantalizing circles along your hips where your shirt had ridden up.

You gasp at that; finally bring your eyes to his. He looked exactly how you felt, desperate. His lips were red and puffy from your kisses, his hair messy after running your hands through it. In the light of the kitchen, you could still see how his pupils were blown wide. You’re pretty sure you’re not in any better condition.

“Jae,” you whisper, brining your hands to his shoulders, either to support yourself or to brace yourself for what you were about to say, “if we do this, there’s no going back.”

He lets out a deep breath, “I know, and I’m ok with that.” He offers a gentle smile, “I want that.” His heart drops as he notices how you drop your gaze and bite your lips.

“if we do this, can you guarantee that it won’t ruin our friendship?” for some reason, you can’t bring yourself to speak higher than a whisper or to look at him. “can you promise that you won’t run away again?”

You wait for his response. When it doesn’t come you finally look up, only to find a frown forming on his brow. You don’t expect when he takes a step back, “is that all I am to you? All this is? Just a risk you’re not willing to take just because you don’t want to ruin the ‘friendship’?”

“I don’t know…Am I supposed to forget what you just said a few minutes ago?” He gives a humorless laugh as he paces around the small kitchen.

You’re frozen in place, spaced out at his words. It’s like as if you’re watching yourself from somewhere else. But you think about it, is that what it is?

Before you can respond or come to a conclusion, he stops at the entrance to the kitchen, back towards you. “Are you really not understanding what I’m saying or are you avoiding it?” his shoulders sag but he keeps going, “If loosing me is what you’re so worried about, then let me make it simple for you.”

Your body grows number by the second, what’s wrong with you? You’ve finally done it, burned away the last semblance of security and friendship. Just like a thoughtless spitfire.

“I can’t go back to this back and forth bullshit. I’m tired. I don’t think you even know what you want, so until you do, I think I need my space.”

He motions towards his front door, “I’m gonna go, if you’re still here by the time I come back, I’ll take it as a sign that you do want us…to happen. If you leave, I’ll pretend the last two days didn’t happen and we can go back to how we used to be. I’ll never cross the line again, and I’ll do everything to move on.”

You only notice you’re sobbing when you tears blur your vision. What have you done?

You don’t even hear him leave, only when the door slams after him.

I can clearly see the end, Worse than a hangover

It will be hard, Now, Just end it somewhere here

EndNote | Damn, I've never written a kiss scene before. Hopefully it wasn't too awkward. This is a lot of angst too, which I'm not a big fan of reading, but wow... who hurt me lmao. Promise the next chapter won't be as bad, or will it?

Previous: Part 3 | Next: Part 4.5

[itsallmightbitch]

Covert Ops For Dummies (Part 2)

I hope you’re all excited, because the skinny scarecrow man is back and is making panties drop all over the place.

Pairing: All Might/Toshinori Yagi x Reader

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Smut and swearing. Par for the course with me, kids.

Word Count: 12211, give or take.

Summary: After your little tryst in the closet a week ago, Toshinori has been avoiding you. Hizashi is eager to make back some of the money he lost and you know just how he can help you.

*once again this gif isn’t mine but is oddly appropriate....

---------

It had been a week since the ‘incident’ in the closet and so far, Toshinori had been… well. If you were honest, you had no idea how he’d been.

 He’d been avoiding you.

 You weren’t really taking it to heart. At least, not anymore. The first night, yeah, you’d been stuck in your own head, wondering if maybe you’d done something wrong or if you’d been too forward. But the more you’d dwelt on it, the more you had started to realise that this was his thing to work through- not yours.

 He could barely meet your eye across the room at the next teacher’s meeting and when he eventually did, his face had instantly bloomed red and he’d choked out some terrible excuse in order to run off early.

 You might have been offended if you had thinner skin.

 Thankfully, you guessed that it wasn’t your fault that he was acting the way he was. Despite all those little whispered things in the closet, the cold light of day had made him panic. Years of hating himself for being what he saw as weak, his failing health and self-loathing when he was what you’d affectionately dubbed as ‘Small’ Might… that wasn’t going to go away because he’d fingered you in a closet and you’d told him he was still pretty.

 It had been silly of you to even consider it.

The long process of getting home after the event had given his brain time to work and time to freak out. Getting past those reporters, the police, the very thankful parents- all of whom wanted to stop him, talk to him, shake his hand.

You just knew that during that, he’d somehow come to the conclusion that what had happened between you was simply you feeling sorry for him and that any affection or attraction you’d shown him was the result of pity.

 Pfft, as if.

 For God’s sake, you felt sorry for Hizashi after he’d been wrangled out of his money but you weren’t planning on visiting that closet again any time soon.

 Like a gentleman, he’d walked you to your car afterwards but even before you’d registered the cogs turning in that big ol’ brain of his, he was making his excuses and blasting off like he was Team fucking Rocket.

 So much for dragging him back to your place. You’d watched him go, your mind a jumbled mess of want, hurt and longing.

 All of those feelings had ultimately led you here, doing something that you wouldn’t normally ever consider doing. Although, you’d never really considered getting it on in a closet of a strange house before either so…

 After you’d given him a brief outline of your plan, and he’d stopped laughing at you, Hizashi had been all too eager to make back some of the money he’d lost to Aizawa. It didn’t take much convincing for him to bend the rules a little. You’d sent him off on his merry way with a few Out of Bounds signs and instructions to get Toshinori up to his office by any means necessary.

 His office was nice, you decided as you waited patiently on the couch.

 He had an adorable amount of All Might paraphernalia littered around and an American flag was pinned proudly on the wall- next to several framed photos of him shaking hands with other celebrities. But that was nothing compared to his desk.

 It made you feel all warm inside, just looking over the few personal photos that were framed there.

 A photo of him and young Midoryia, looking very proud of themselves at a beach. He and David Shield, arms slung over each others shoulders and sporting those carefree smiles that youth brought on their faces. A picture of a very stern faced Nighteye that made you mildly uncomfortable as it seemed to judge you through the glass.

Quit judging, you thought. He needs to relax and this is a fucking great way to do it.

You moved on from that one quite quickly.

 At the end of the row was that damned faculty photograph that Principal Nezu had made you all participate in.

 The one where you’d purposely shoved yourself against Toshinori’s side despite the photographer’s insistence that the shorter of you were to stand in the front. When you’d protested, Toshinori had done something you hadn’t expected him to do, given his disposition for being a wallflower around you.

 He’d bent down, his big hands around your waist and suddenly, he was lifting you with ease. Up, up, until he sat you on his shoulder. You’d been an ecstatic mess, a stupid smile on your face and your usually uncooperative wings spread out above the other teachers.

 All Might had struck his usual pose, flexing his muscles and grinning- except one of his hands was on your hip, holding you steady the whole time and the sensation of his fingers pressing into you had stayed with you for days.

 Thus, the official faculty photograph had been born. The one that all the papers were forced to publish, seeing as you’d all refused to have another one taken.

 He could be bold with you when he wanted to be and days like that proved it.

 The memory of that day was one of your favourites. Seeing that confidence, how pleased he was with himself over making you smile. It was like catching a glimpse into the past. 

 You eyed the big, comfortable looking couch in the corner.

 That definitely looked sturdy enough-

 You didn’t get to finish your train of thought because the door opened suddenly and All Might was shoved inside, Hizashi hot on his heels. He was mid-sentence as he walked in, laughing over something Hizashi was saying and he didn’t even notice you.

 “Well, if it’s that urgent Mic, I suppose I can spare a few minutes!”

 “Trust me. You’ll be thanking me for weeks to come.”

 “Thanking you? Thanking you for-”

 His eyes settled on you when he finally focused his attention on the room and his voice caught in his throat, long enough for Hizashi to belt out a raucous laugh. He slapped a hand against All Might’s broad back and then turned his beaming grin to you.

 “One Number One Hero, delivered as promised,” he waggled his eyebrows. “You kids have fu-un!”

It was a good thing you hadn’t gone with your original plan of greeting him in lingerie.

 Before you could even think about reprimanding Mic, he was gone, leaving behind nothing more than a smoke trail and Toshinori looking for a means of escape. You made sure he knew that it wasn’t going to happen, quickly positioning yourself between him and the doorway. Despite his unlimited strength, you knew that he wouldn’t barge you out of the way just to save face.

 Like you’d said before. He was too much of a gentleman.

 “You. Sit. Now,” you pointed at the couch, using your best angry voice and you swear that you saw him swallow hard, eyes trained on the carpet as he followed your instructions and seated himself on the plush cushions.

 “I um, didn’t think you were working today,” he muttered, rubbing one hand over the back of his neck and fidgeting with a button of his suit with his other. Another part of your absolutely diabolical plan. You’d purposely left your car at home that morning, so he wouldn’t see it in the parking lot.

 “Well here I am,” you said shortly. “It looks like cornering you seems to be the only way I’m going to get you to talk, so... yeah. Talk. Why have you been avoiding me this week? I was starting to think I had the plague.”

Both true and untrue. You knew why, deep down. 

 “I haven’t been avoiding you-” he spluttered.

 You inwardly rolled your eyes in exasperation. While it was nice of him to try and spare your feelings, he was an absolutely awful liar when he wasn’t prepared.

 “Liar.”

 He winced like you’d struck him and you softened your tone, realising you’d have to approach this differently. You couldn’t just wrangle the answers out of him like you could with other people.  Sometimes you wondered what he’d been like, back in the days of his youth when he was saving people with a smile and that villain hadn’t yet darkened his door.

 Had he been confident about his body? Had wild romances and broken a slew of hearts on the way?

 Maybe.

 But… even then, he didn’t seem the type to do things like that. He was a man married to his work, with too much empathy for others to go around breaking hearts. That’s why you knew full well that him avoiding you hadn’t been to intentionally hurt you. Looking at him now in his muscular form, still almost too embarrassed to look you in the eye- you wondered if anyone had ever told him that just being him was enough.

 You wanted to climb into his lap and show him it was enough. He was enough.

 On the other hand, he kind of deserved to sweat after the week you’d had. Anxious, confused and unbelievably horny. A barrage of almost hourly daydreams, most of which involved his hands in some way, shape or form. 

Your marking scheme had gone straight to Hell- especially after you’d set your students an essay about a hero who had inspired them. Half of the papers had been about All Might and you’d thrown A’s left, right and fucking centre at them.

Even the terrible ones.

 The nights held no reprieve either.

 There hadn’t been one that had gone by where you didn’t wake up, breathing hard and sweating like you’d just run twenty blocks in the midday sun. It was exhausting. It was like your body was always on edge, longing for another touch, another look. 

The constant nervous tension was getting to you and your concentration had suffered for it.

 All because Toshinori Yagi had fucking fantastic hands and was withholding access to them.

 You had to shake yourself to bring reality rushing back.

 “So… what? You just get me off once and then run for it? Is that how it is, Toshinori? Did it really mean that little to you?” you asked inspite of yourself. You hadn’t actually meant to say those things.

You hadn’t even realised that you were this upset about it. So much for not taking it personally. His head shot up, eyes wide with surprise when what you’d said finally registered. 

“You could have just told me. You didn’t need to- I dunno. Spare my feelings,” you said, quietly.

 “What!? No! Tha- That’s not it at all!” he yelped, standing from the couch with surprising speed.

 “Then what is it? Did you not enjoy yourself?” you said and rested a hand in the centre of his chest. His whole body tightened under your palm, like every muscle was being electrocuted just because you were touching him. You looked up at him through your eyelashes, watching the red rising up along his neck like he was going to start blowing steam from his ears.

 “Of course I enjoyed it,” he said at last and to your surprise, his voice didn’t shake once. His hand did though, when he brought it up to cover yours. “Every second of being with you like- like that,” he said and swallowed hard. You tilted your head to the side, eyes searching his face. “Things were just a little overwhelming, especially after Eraserhead finding us. I don’t deal with things like that well.”

 That was an understatement. You gave him an understanding half smile. It had been embarrassing for both of you.

 You had studiously avoided Shouta for the better part of three days and it only just dawned on you that Toshinori had probably done the same. Not that Shouta seemed to care much about the whole thing beyond getting his money.

 He hadn’t mentioned it again.

 “Look, Toshi, I get it okay? Heh, at least I think I do-” you tried, sighing when the words refused to come. Maybe it was because of the low, dull throb between your legs or maybe it was because he looked so damn good in that suit but you were distracted. “But I’d prefer it if you talked to me about it instead of hoping it’ll just go away.”

 “I didn’t want it to-” he started, but then stopped himself. “I thought things would be alright between us if I just stayed away. A dumb plan, admittedly,” he flashed you a sheepish smile and squeezed your hand in his.

 “Listen,” you said slowly, “Could you maybe, you know, shrink down please?”

 He shot you a bemused look and you could guess it was the same as the look he’d given you back in the coat closet the first time you’d asked. It wasn’t something that many people asked him to do often.

 “What? Why?” he asked, clearly caught off guard. Good. That gave you a higher chance of actually getting him to do as you asked. It felt like you needed to prove a point. That you were interested in Toshinori too- not just All Might. “I still have a few hours to go…”

 “Does it make you uncomfortable? You don’t have to,” you acquiesced, although reluctantly. You knew there was a line for him but... as much as you wanted him to be comfortable with you, you didn’t want to have sex with him now if he was in his muscular form. It would entirely defeat the purpose of you being here.

 “No, no, it’s alright,” he said after a beat and to your relief he did as you asked. The room quickly filled with smoke.

 He didn’t actually lose much height on you, you noticed, once you had wafted the smoke away and he’d recovered from his coughing fit. Straightening up from where he’d been bent at the waist, you thumbed a line across his bottom lip absently, wiping away blood.

 “Sorry,” he grunted, scrubbing his hand over his face to make sure there was nothing left. It had sounded painful and you knew it happened often.

 “Are you okay?” you asked, searching his face. Your hand still lay on his chest, thumbing absentminded circles against his shirt and he met your gaze with those vivid, strikingly blue eyes that always took the words out of your mouth. Your stomach swooped in your gut and a low, excited throb pulsed between your thighs.

 The longing ache from earlier worsened.

 “M’fine,” he said softly, not looking at you any more but at the blood on your hand instead. A forced, incredulous laugh made it’s way out of his mouth and it instantly set you on edge. That was not the way he usually laughed. “So kid. Is this better? Am I any easier on the eyes?” he asked and the questions were tinged with a bitterness you’d never heard from him before. 

You didn’t like it at all and the question got your back up almost immediately.

 “Yeah, actually it is,” you answered defensively, eyes narrowing as though daring him to argue with you.

 He laughed that not right laugh again and it was like ice.

 “Is that right? Well. Take a good look,” he said and stepped back, arms splayed wide. The suit that would have usually been stretched across his broad chest, hung on him now. His expression was far from the usual happy go lucky Toshinori that you’d fallen for. He really was full of so much self-loathing that it astonished you. The number one hero, Symbol of Peace and saviour of Japan- hated himself. Really hated- and that twisted your stomach painfully. 

“Is this really what you want in your bed at night?”

 Your face dropped, expression full of pain. But not for you. For him- because he really did believe that he wasn’t good enough in this form. That he was somehow lesser.

 He must have seen the hurt in your eyes because his expression softened all of a sudden and his arms dropped back to his sides. He looked away, ashamed of his outburst.

 “I’m sorry,” he muttered, exhaling tiredly. “I shouldn’t be taking my insecurities out on you. It’s not your fault. I guess this isn’t what you expected after everything, huh?” 

You had been silent for a few moments but that question needed an answer.

 “Yeah.”

 He looked up at you, confused.

 “Yeah?” he parroted.

 “I want you in my bed every fucking night,” you said breathlessly and without giving him any more time to over think, you yanked him forward by his tie. He crashed into you and before he could say anything you were kissing him hard, tangling your fingers in the soft hairs at the base of his neck.

 He only flailed a little bit much to your amusement and eventually his fingers wrapped over your shoulders, finding purchase.

 You only pulled back an inch or so to breathe before crowding him, not giving him a single moment more to be down on himself, or to cast doubt on your very obvious intentions. You wouldn’t hear another bad word about himself come out of his mouth.

The back of his legs hit the couch and he stumbled, landing with a little ‘oomph’ and the adorably dazed expression that you’d kissed onto his face.

 You wasted no time and straddled his thighs, one arm braced on the back of the couch beside his head and the other blissfully free to roam across his chest.

 “You’d never break a promise to a fan, would you Toshi?” you murmured, purposely being vague. He looked confused, his head cocking to the side as he managed to focus on your words instead of the fact that you were in his lap.

 “I made you a promise?”

 “A million orgasms? Remember? I do. It’s all I’ve been thinking about,” you admitted, fingers toying with the knot of his tie. Idly undoing it and then his shirt collar, you ducked your head and trailed a line of kisses across his throat. 

It was true. Every moment, every spare second of every day, that promise had taken up your thoughts- as well as all the ways he could fulfil it. With his hands, his mouth, his cock. You had been a woman possessed.

 Toshi’s hands were almost burning as he slid them up along your back and a delicious shiver raced along your spine.

 “I’m sorry,” he said abruptly and you stopped your assault on his neck, lazily bringing your face up to his. His expression was earnest prompting you to press another kiss to his lips, sweet this time instead of hungry. You knew from his tone that he was being honest, serious. “I’m sorry for- for avoiding you like a coward. I didn’t mean to make you feel like I didn’t want you. I did. I do. I just-” he paused, head falling back while his hands came to rest on your hips. “I dunno. I don’t know what to say to you, sweetheart. You could do so much better.”

 “Bullshit,” you said sharply, trying and failing to stop your voice from sounding angry. How could he ever think that? After all the things he’d done? The sacrifices he’d made for others while he kept the world safe? And always, always with a smile.

“You’re a good man Toshinori. If everyone could be a little more like you, then the world would be a fucking awesome place to live.”

 “Thank you but that’s not what I meant. I do appreciate it though,” he said, smiling at you as his hand came up to cup your cheek and he swept a thumb over your cheekbone. “I dunno if you’ve noticed but I’m old kid. Past my prime. You’re…” he trailed off with an almost disbelieving laugh, his eyes roaming over you from where you were seated in his lap, up to your face and back again. 

You flushed under his appreciative gaze, well aware of what he was thinking of when he looked at you like that.

“Younger,” he managed at last. “Gorgeous. Sexy. A million other things. I-”

 He stopped himself, meeting your wide eyed look with an honest one of his own. You had been rendered speechless, the caress of his eyes like he was running his hands over you. He’d never opened up this much and you were drinking it all in- thinking of ways to tell him he was wrong and all the while trying not to preen under his compliments.

 “I’m terrified.”

 Not what you’d been expecting. You blinked stupidly at him for a moment before those unused gears in your head finally began to be useful again.

 “Terrified? Of what?” you asked, confused as all Hell. “Of wanting me? You can’t really think that it’s so out there. Age differences don’t matter to me-”

 “No, not that. Look,” he said, his blush adorably bright as he tackled your questions. You shut up for a moment at last, letting him talk. “I haven’t had someone look at me the way you did last week in- in years.”

 His eyes darted down to his side and you followed his gaze- well aware that he meant since before he’d been injured. Before he’d almost died, was the silent addition and you felt an uncomfortable unease when you thought about him not being here any more.

 You distracted yourself, focusing on the sound of his voice instead and enjoying the soft vibrations you could feel through his shirt.

 “Definitely not when I’m like this. Although, All Might stills gets plenty of attention,” he said with a roll of his eyes, obviously fed up with it all. “I can safely say, no-one has ever shoved my hand down their pants and let me touch them like you did. Not when I look the way I do now.”

 While you were immensely proud of your own confidence the week before, you still couldn’t quite grasp what he was trying to tell you. Shifting in his lap, you leaned into the hand that hadn’t left your cheek.

He gave you a pointed look and suddenly, it clicked.

 “Wait... you’re telling me that you’ve never had sex in this form. Ever,” you deadpanned, disbelief evident in your voice. It was almost unthinkable, to you anyway. But the way he looked at you was proof enough that he wasn’t pulling your leg.

 A wave of cold washed over you as it slowly dawned on you that the first action this big, lovable sweetheart had gotten since he’d been hospitalised had been a quick fumble in the dark with your angry ass. 

The least romantic thing that could ever have happened in the history of fucking humanity- and yeah, you knew that was dramatic but what the fuck!? All of this, with the added bonus of one of his co-workers eavesdropping not ten feet down the hall.

 Shit.

 If you’d have known then… then, you would at least have burned a fucking candle or something. Put up a little mood lighting! Or at least checked to see if anyone was listening.

The knowledge that he probably didn’t even mind your advances and poor planning made you feel even worse. He’d just gone along with it.

 “I did try, you know?” he said uncomfortably after a drawn out moment of you silently freaking out. You reluctantly came back to the room and sucked in a breath, attempting to not look too panicked. This did not sound like it was about to have a happy ending. “After psyching myself up for days I actually got up the courage to go out to a bar like this. I even approached a few women but-” he trailed off, shrugging helplessly.

 “Did it um… go well?” you asked and he laughed, but it was humourless. The same kind of laugh from earlier that had chilled you. He softened though, noticing the look on your face.

“No, kid. It didn’t go well.”

“Oh,” you replied, voice small.

 “I’ve never had a woman look at me like she was, I don’t know. Repulsed, before,” he threw the word out like it meant nothing but fuck, it felt like he’d hit you. The air vanishing from your lungs in an instant. He just tossed words like that around and had no idea how much they affected you. “It’d always been so easy for me but after that night… I just never wanted to feel like I did again. So I didn’t try.”

When he finally looked up at you, he almost jumped, the emotions written clearly on your face.

 You weren’t gonna cry. You were not going to cry. Fuck. Too late.

 Scrubbing at the corners of your eyes, you sniffed hard and turned your head away from his startled expression. You couldn’t look at him, sitting there, so sweet and earnest and lovable. You couldn’t think about it, about him going home alone that night and wondering what was wrong with him.

 Thinking he wasn’t good enough as he was.

 It was too painful.

 “Shit! Are you alright!?” he choked in alarm, ducking his head around until you were forced to look him in the eye. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

 Swallowing back your stupid tears, you nodded and wiped your arm across your face.

 “Those people were fucking morons,” you managed savagely after a moment of silently collecting yourself. That was one of the nicer words that came to mind. You didn’t want to say what you actually thought because you didn’t want to start on a vulgar rant that could last for, easy, an hour.

His smile brightened your mood though.

 “Huh, well,” he laughed all soft and embarrassed like, rubbing his hand across the back of his neck. “It’s nice of you to say so- but even if I had gotten further than asking for their numbers... I don’t think it could have gone anywhere. My confidence was just shot. This…” he gripped his side softly, eyes darting down.

 He trailed off, not finishing his sentence but you got the gist of what he wanted to say.

 That scar that haunted him both mentally and physically was hard to forget about. The constant elephant in the room, whether between you and him or him and his career. You couldn’t do anything about that second one but, at least you had a little bit of power over the first.

Ignoring your whirling emotions for a moment, you managed to calm yourself enough to talk properly.

 “Hey, look at me, big guy.”

 You used the nickname you used when he was All Might. Big guy. He always smiled when you called him that- and not that well practised hero smile either. A real smile. The one that made your heart skip a beat.

 Now was no different. The corners of his mouth rose slowly and then he was gracing you with a soft, gorgeous grin that lit up the fucking room.

 You almost forgot what you were going to say. His eyes tentatively met yours and the words came back to you, despite how heavy your tongue felt in your mouth.

 “Toshinori, I know this is hard for you, okay?” you said, swallowing back all the words and emotions that threatened to pour out of you and picking your words carefully instead. “I know you’ve had bad experiences in the past and it might be difficult to trust me... but you’ve known me long enough now to know that I don’t fuck around with things like this. I would never hurt you like that.”

 “Yeah, yeah I know,” he replied lowly, and his forehead fell against yours.

 While he didn’t look entirely convinced, his body did relax somewhat between your legs and he actually tilted forward to kiss you- which sent a little thrill along your spine. You were happy to accept it.

 It became heated quickly, the palm of one of his hands pressing between your shoulders to bring your body closer to his. You arched your back, your stomach and breasts plastered to his front by the time you tore your mouth away to breathe. 

The hard line of his cock pressed up between your legs, giving you a good idea that his body’s needs were far outpacing his reluctant thoughts.

 “You make me so fucking hot, Toshi,” you muttered and he captured your mouth again in another searing kiss, his free hand carding fingers through your hair. It was soothing and you found the tension you’d been holding in your shoulders all day, easing.

 “You sure you’re not trying to kill me?” he replied when he pulled back, his voice hoarse and needy at the same time. You bucked playfully in his lap and tugged at his open shirt collar, bringing his face close to yours.

 “Like I would kill you before I’ve seen you naked,” you pointed out, as though it was obvious.

 Despite the entire conversation up until now and the fact that you were sitting in his lap and raring to get this party started- he still flashed you an uneasy smile at the mere mention of him getting undressed.

 Thankfully, you were more than prepared for this eventuality. You had put a little bit of thought into this other than, ambush him in his office and ride him on the couch.

Although, you got an A for the plan so far. 

 “Hey, look at me,” you soothed reassuringly, lifting his chin with your finger. He did, the corners of his mouth turning down. “Don’t sweat the small stuff. We’ll do this one step at a time and you can stop me whenever you want. I won’t be upset, okay?” 

He nodded, looking at you with fucking hearts in his eyes. You knew your expression was much the same so you could hardly tease him about it.

“I’ll even go first to ah- make you more comfortable,” you shot him a wink, smoothing your hand over his cheek. You knew how self conscious he was but you weren’t about to let that spoil his good time. If he was more comfortable being fully clothed and you being naked, then so fucking be it.

 Besides, the thought made you kind of hot. It was like being called to the principal’s office for being naughty-

Oh. Wow. There was a fantasy that was just waiting to be explored. There was time for all of those things later though. Right now, this was about him.

 Your offer of getting naked didn’t seem to rid him of his nervous tension though. If anything it made it worse. You slid out of his lap all the same, subtly surveying him.

 A gut wrenching rush of heat and wetness spread between your legs when you did.

 All he was doing was sitting there and he was managing to turn you into a needy, aroused mess.

 Granted, he was very, very attractive to you right now- even if he might not think so.

 He was reclined back, his cheeks pink and his hair a mess from where you’d been gripping handfuls of it. His lips were well kissed and his chest was rising and falling rapidly- tie hanging loose around his neck. His legs, all long and lean were falling open and the hard outline of his cock was straining against the fabric, ready to be free.

 Honestly, it was a miracle that you could stand up at all, let alone be moderately sexy while you stripped for him. But by the time you were naked- your panties thrown over your shoulder to land on his desk- he was as equally fucking ruined as you were.

 He’d clenched his hands into fists, his knuckles white and his teeth gritted like he longed to reach out and touch you but wouldn’t do so without permission.

 Feeling oddly confident despite the difference in dress, you stepped between his legs and waited as he trailed his eyes up and over you. 

“You can touch me, ya know,” you reminded him after a moment. His tongue darted out to wet his lips and slowly- oh so fucking slowly- he reached out a hand and rested it lightly on your stomach. His hand was big and his palm hot when he splayed his fingers out and they brushed the undersides of your breasts.

 It was no wonder you’d been a little sore the day after your excursion in the closet. His fingers were long and there had been many times that you’d become hyperfixated on them before now.

 “Is this better?” you asked, voice husky and hopefully sexy.

 He glanced up at you face, giving you a nervous laugh. 

“You’re beautiful,” he said reverently, his gaze wandering in a heated path from your head to your feet- lingering on your breasts and then on the apex of your thighs.

His hand slid to your hip and with a strength that belied his skinny frame, he tugged you back into his lap. You laughed as you stumbled into his embrace but it quickly morphed into a moan when his mouth closed over your nipple.

 His other hand came up to cup your breast, his thumb sweeping a wide circle over the peak and you could do nothing but whimper like an idiot in heat as he lavished attention on you. The sweet pull of his lips, the sharp nip of his teeth and then the soothing stroke with the flat of his tongue had your head swimming while long fingers worked you diligently.

You could feel your arousal threatening to drip along the inside of your thigh, sticky and hot and you wanted him to feel it too.

 On the other hand though, you didn’t particularly want to ruin his suit pants. You’d already made him come in his hero outfit and the dry cleaning for that material was probably expensive as fuck. It was only that vague thought in the back of your head that made brought you back to reality and tug on his hair to get his attention.

 He glanced up at you with a hum of questioning.

 Leaving one last longing kiss between your breasts, he reluctantly pulled away and let you attach your lips to his again. He was deceptively good with his tongue, you thought suddenly. You could hardly wait for him to eat you out.The thought made your thighs quiver in anticipation and it wasn’t abated when his hands slid along the back of them and then up, covering your ass.

 His fingertips dug into the soft flesh, pulling you closer.

 The slow build of confidence you were seeing was addictive. You wanted him to show you just what you’d been missing these past few months. You wanted him to make you scream like you had in that closet and the mere thought of his fingers sliding into your aching pussy made your head light.

 He might not have done anything like this in a few years, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have a few tricks up his sleeve either.

 His mouth dipped to your throat and that son of a bitch knew how high you wore your shirts because he stopped just below an invisible line and promptly sucked a dark mark into your skin. Your pussy clenched around nothing longingly and you fisted your hand in his shirt, unable to even protest.

 The thought of being marked by him was simply too arousing.

 “Toshi,” you admonished playfully, pressing a kiss to the side of his head so he knew you weren’t actually mad. He gave a coy laugh, humming against your skin and you felt him smile rather than saw it.

 “Sorry kid,” he rumbled, fingers squeezing your hips now instead of your ass. You kind of missed the grip he’d had on you, keeping you close to his eagerly straining cock. Fuck, you wanted to take him inside you as soon as possible. “I got a little carried away.”

 “You know, you’re going to have to stop calling me kid eventually. Otherwise this might get weird,” you pointed out, trailing your gaze over his flushed face. He gave you a lopsided, sheepish smile and the tips of his ears went pink.

 “Force of habit. You are younger than me, you know.”

 You tutted and rolled your eyes but your half smile gave you away.

 “Come on, Toshi. You act like you’re ancient sometimes. Live a little, old man.”

 He laughed. A genuine, full laugh that had you not knowing whether to cry, kiss him or just ride him until you were both exhausted. Then to your surprise, he wrapped you up in his arms with a playful growl and kissed you.

 Oh yeah, number three was definitely winning.

 Even though you were naked and he wasn’t, you didn’t feel the kind of reluctant embarrassment you might have felt with anyone else. Toshi was the last person who would ever judge you and knowing that bolstered your confidence enough to tug his face up to yours. 

You tugged your bottom lip between your teeth.

 “Wanna know a secret?” you asked, noticing the moment his eyes became entranced by your mouth. He made to move forward- almost not hearing your question- but your hand on his chest made him stop.

 “Huh? You have a secret?” he said and when your smile turned wolfish, his grip tightened where it was already digging into your waist. If it was nerves you weren’t sure but you said nothing about it. 

 “I’ve been thinking about doing this all week. Sneaking into your office and fucking you.”

 “Oh?”

 He might have aimed for nonchalant but he missed by a mile, his voice cracking a little when he swallowed. You watched his Adam’s apple bob and heard the sharp little inhale of breath that hitched in his throat. Your tongue swept over your bottom lip now, keeping his attention on your mouth.

 “Do you remember that day in the teacher’s lounge?”

 The day he’d stood like an awkwardly adorable beanpole in the corner while the principal talked, looking everywhere but at you and then had split before you could even talk to him. He shot you a very apologetic look when he remembered his behaviour but you shut him up before he could say anything about it- your finger trailing across his lips lightly.

 “The whole time, I was thinking about sucking your cock.” He choked out a noise but you hushed him, not quite finished with your story yet. “Just, getting on my knees and taking you into my mouth... Honestly, I was super unprofessional.”

 A giddy little thrill ran through your body at admitting your little secret fantasy. 

 To your surprise, he didn’t pop a blood vessel like you thought he would. Instead, his eyes darkened and slowly, tentatively, he drew the finger that you were tracing over his lips into his mouth. A fresh wave of arousal washed over you at the unexpected, but welcome, turn of events.

 With your other hand, you slowly began to undo the buttons on the front of his shirt.

 Even though his eyes were trained intently on your face, he didn’t protest or ask you to stop- much to your relief. He released your finger with a soft, wet pop and in a bit of a daze, you made quick work of his tie.

 Instead of throwing it to one side, you circled it around your neck and let the soft, smooth material fall between your breasts. His eyes followed it and you were glad to give him something else to focus on other than the slow exposure of his chest and stomach.

 “Does it suit me?” you asked, the tip of your tongue pressing against a sharp canine and your expression scandalous.

 He snorted, unable to stop himself from laughing at your ridiculous expressions.

 “It’s never looked better, that’s for sure,” he said, his hands sweeping up along your sides to press your breasts together around the soft line of the tie. “You’re so fucking pretty,” he muttered, half to himself and half out loud. Then his whole face went beet red when he realised that you had heard him- like you would be mad at him for saying it.

 On the contrary, a rush of affection filled you to the point that you simply had to lean into him and nuzzle a sweet kiss to his mouth. You butted your forehead against his gently, your noses touching.

 Jesus, just how blue were his eyes?

 Button by button, his shirt fell open between you and by the time you were finished looking at him like he was offering you the moon, you could see the barest glimpse of the dark pink, shiny skin peeking out from one side.

 You made sure that you didn’t let your gaze linger for a moment more than necessary.

 Instead, you focused on everything else that you could see.

 You found yourself pleasantly surprised. For a man as skinny as he was- his body was mostly lean, solid muscle. While you could just make out his ribs, the rest of him was nicely built. You trailed a hand along the newly exposed skin, all tan and warm under your touch. You followed a path down between his pectoral muscles and across the still faintly defined six pack that he was sporting.

 When the muscles twitched under your hand, you threw a playful glance at him.

 “You’ve been holding out on me,” you said accusingly, a throaty chuckle slipping out when he looked confused. Exhilaration mixed with adrenaline was making you giddy and before he could say anything remotely bad about himself, you swooped forward and kissed him- pressing your naked form against him and rolling your body into his embrace.

 You wanted him, needed to feel him everywhere. You couldn’t get close enough.

 His arm came up across your back, fingers splaying between your shoulder blades as he held you firmly to his body.

 After a moment of slow, lazy kisses, you coaxed his tongue into your mouth to encourage him to him take the lead. Sure, showering him with compliments and telling him how much you were enjoying yourself was all well and good- but there wouldn’t be anything better for his confidence than letting him take control of the whole thing.

Besides, you were happy to have him set the pace if it meant he was relaxed with you.

 “I want you on top of me,” you murmured and you gasped when his mouth suddenly dipped to the hollow of your throat. His tongue laved a line from there, across your collarbone to where he bit down lightly on your shoulder. “Toshi?”

 Saying his name seemed to finally awaken something in him because you were suddenly scooped up into his embrace and a second later, you found yourself looking up at the ceiling- encased in the lush cushions you’d been admiring earlier. 

They really were as comfortable as you’d thought they’d be.

 You were quickly distracted from you admiration of the furniture by a hard body slotting between your open thighs. He loomed over you, one big hand planted firmly in the cushions beside your head and the other suddenly cupping a handful of your breast.

 It was quickly becoming apparent that Toshinori was a breast man. 

He palmed each one softly, expertly and your nipples pebbled under the ministrations. He cocked his head, eyes fixed on your tits like he wasn’t planning on leaving them alone any time soon.

 He rolled one nipple between his thumb and forefinger, tugging it gently a few times before moving to the other to give it the same attention.

 You were breathing heavily by the time his fingers slid away from your nipples to the forgotten tie that rested in the valley of your breasts. Well. You’d forgotten about it while he was lavishing attention on you. Clearly he hadn’t.

 While he watched your expression, he deftly tied a knot to secure it around your neck.

 Hnng.

 You went utterly boneless, especially after he gave it a playful tug and it slid ever so slightly tighter around your throat. Sparks ignited in your stomach and flitted down between your thighs, tingling and tightening muscles in their wake.

 Well, that had been unexpected.

 You wanted him to do it again but lacked the diction to actually tell him and a low, eager whine escaped instead of words. He shot you a pleased smile and then sat back onto his knees, his shirt now hanging open to reveal his stomach.

 This time, you made sure that he knew where you were looking as your heated gaze sank downwards, lower and lower- drinking him in.

 The difference in dress must have finally gotten to him, especially the way he was staring at you and suddenly he was undressing, agonisingly slowly with his eyes on yours- and all you could do was lie there, a soaking mess of wordless wonder.

 He took his time with it and even though you knew it was partly because of his insecurities, you couldn’t help but wonder if he was subconsciously teasing you. You certainly felt teased with every new inch of skin revealed.

 His rumpled suit jacket was thrown over the back of the couch carelessly and then he was finally shrugging out of his too big shirt- only sparing a quick, curious glance at your face as he did. His cheeks were still bright pink but he said nothing- letting his actions speak volumes.

 He paused only once when he finally reached his belt buckle but you fixed him with a dark, heated look that spurred him to continue.

 Never had you been so aroused by watching a man strip before.

 Long, clever fingers slowly undid the buckle and the memory of those same fingers driving you to orgasm had your hips bucking involuntarily. His movements slowed as he looked away from what he was doing to your face.

 What a sight he made, you thought idly. Kneeling over you, his pants splaying open at the top and tented under the heaviness of his erection. He followed your gaze, coming to rest where you were looking and then, to your surprise, he palmed a hand over the outline of his cock- almost as though he was showing off.

 You swallowed hard, making a noise of impatience.

 His lips quirked noticeably and he went back to work, tugging off his shoes and socks and then going back to his trousers.

 Finally, he was naked. You sat up, reaching for him to bring him back to you, missing the heat of him on top of you. He followed you, nudging your thighs apart to kneel between them. 

His cock was thick, bobbing softly under it’s own weight and he gripped the base, stroking a slow line up along the shaft and then back again. A silvery bead of pre-cum leaked from the tip as he pulled his foreskin back, dripping down bit by bit until it threatened to fall.

You desperately wanted to catch it on your tongue, take him into your mouth- but this moment was his now. Your control had been handed over. 

 His scar took up a solid chunk of his torso,splashed across what was once smooth, unblemished skin. The wound had clearly been deep- and yeah, you didn’t really know all the details of how he’d gotten it but you could guess that it had been an agonising experience. It didn’t bear thinking about.

 The fact that he was here, that he was alive and warm above you was a testament to how amazing he really was. To have gone through all of that and survived it,come out fighting on the other side… He was astounding.

 “You with me, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice smooth and sweet, hovering hesitantly above you with his cock in one hand and the other gripping your thigh. You met his gaze solidly, a salacious grin splitting your face.

 “I’m right here,” you said softly, shimmying closer and bringing your knees up snugly against his hips. That was an invitation if there ever was one.

 “We can still stop if you want to-” he said, trailing off. You were both naked, inches away from each other and he was still trying to give you one last out. One last opportunity to change your mind.

 Like you would.

 He released his hold on your thigh, his hand cupping across his side and his eyes searching your face, the worry in them palpable. Was this suddenly too much? Were you coming to your senses at last?

Clearly slipping into deep thought had made you look reluctant to continue- in his eyes at least.

 “Don’t you dare,” you warned, your voice playful but laced with an underlying seriousness. “Toshinori, I’ve been getting myself off all week because of you. You don’t think I deserve a little something for all my suffering?” you asked quietly, before dipping your hand between your legs to rub a slow circle around your clit.

 It was a delightful feeling, pleasure igniting as you settled into the familiar touch- only made all the more intense knowing that he could see you doing it. He watched, breath bated and his shoulders tensed as you touched yourself- strokes lazy and unhurried.

 Nipping your lip, you tilted your hips upwards to give him a better view. Your thighs fell apart and you slipped your fingers lower, finding slick wetness and pressing inside.

 A gasp clawed up your throat without you even thinking and you sank two fingers in, practised and confident in your own expertise.

 To your delight, he forgot all of his insecurities for a moment. Long, nimble fingers folded around his cock and he began to stroke himself- all while intensely watching you masturbate for him. His thick moan split the air and it was like music to your ears.

 It was very arousing, watching him jerk off over you. Because of you.

 “Please Toshi,” you said, breathlessly. “I need you.”

 His answer was a filthy, eager groan and without any more thoughts of stopping or worry about what he looked like, he moved forward and pressed the tip of his cock between the swollen lips of your pussy. You jolted, inhaling a sharp, stilted gasp of pleasure at the sudden touch.

 “Please,” you chanted softly. “Please, please, please-”

 “Fuck,” was his choked response, the blunt head of his cock sliding through your wetness and bumping against your clit. He did it again, then again and you quickly realised that he was watching the expressions on your face intently. Once more, to draw another groan out of you and then he was pressing inside- pushing you apart and filling you inch by inch.

 Your thighs trembled around his waist and your head pressed into the couch below when your back arched.

 “Oh, Toshi!” you cried, pleasure racing through you. You were suddenly thankful that you didn’t have to worry about making too much noise. There was nothing holding you back here.

 He was stretching you far more than you’d thought he would and it very quickly toed the line between pleasure and pain. The adage that skinny guys have big dicks was definitely holding true because damn-

 It was almost too much but then he made a noise of absolute bliss and buried his face against your neck, teeth scraping your skin in a playful bite and you relaxed- just enough to feel comfortable taking him in further.

 His breath was scorching and you could feel the silent tension building in his arms- in the hand that was holding your hip up from the couch. He carried on inspite of it, sliding himself into you even further, deeper, making you crazy.

 He watched your face the whole time, drinking in your expressions.

 Eventually, he bottomed out and his pubic bone pressed against you, signalling that he was as deep as he could go.

 Your head span in delight. Toshinori, the man you’d been yearning for for months was currently balls deep in you- his breath catching in his throat and his fingers digging into your hip hard enough to bruise.

 The mere thought was enough to make you clench around him and his hips jerked reflexively. Red flushed across his cheeks as he fought with himself not to do it again.

 You stroked a gentle line down his back, fingertips dancing over his vertebrae one by one. As you went lower, you were constantly interrupted by the smooth skin of multiple scars and you wondered briefly just how many he had.

 But then he grunted softly into your ear and brought your attention back to the here and now.

 A shiver ran through him and you felt it- from your fingers to your pussy.

 “You okay?” you asked, your voice uneven as you tried not to shift your hips too much. Every movement, every sharp breath he took, ground him hard against your clit and you were beginning to throb with the unreleased tension.

 You didn’t want to come too soon. You wanted this to last for as long as it could.

 “Y-yeah… It’s just-” he said as steadily as he could, nuzzling his nose across your cheek as he semi-avoided answering your question. “S’been a while sweetheart. I don’t want to, um-”

 Your eyebrows rose in surprise. Ah, you hadn’t even thought of that.

 Hadn’t he made it perfectly clear that he hadn’t seen any action in a while? It would make sense that he would be a little over sensitive the first time. The thought of him losing control came unbidden and you couldn’t deny that it turned you on. Warmth and something else- something foreign rose in your chest and you cupped his cheek, tugging him down for a lazy, unhurried kiss.

 “Take as long as you need to, baby,” you said, squeezing softly around him and he choked out an embarrassed, almost nervous laugh.

 Whether it was over your not-so-accidental slip of the tongue or the current situation, you didn’t know. Probably a little of both.

 But if he got to call you ‘sweetheart’ and make you all pathetic and needy, then you could return the favour you decided.

 “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable,” he said, his breath catching when you hitched your legs higher again over his hips. You grinned up at him, circling your arms around his neck and stroking your fingers through his hair.

 “Believe me, Toshi. I’m far from uncomfortable… I like having you inside me,” you murmured, peppering little kisses down, from his bottom lip to his chin, and then to his sharp jawline. He slid his hand up along your side, sighing almost contentedly against your hair. “Feel so full. So good,” you continued, nipping at him teasingly.

 “Y-yeah?” he said.

 “Fuck yes Toshinori,” you sighed a pleased, longing sound and rose your hips a little to make sure he was as deep as possible.

 Having him resting inside you, all hot and hard was doing things to your head. Your inner muscles flitted and spasmed around him, relishing the stretch and while you could hardly wait for him to move- simply having this, being with him like this… it was so much more than you’d ever dreamed about.

 Far better than your wild fantasies of destructive fucking and hot rendezvous. Those were great, yeah and you had no doubt that you would get him there eventually… but this…

 Oh. This.

 It was real and he was here in your arms, looking at you with an expression akin to adoration. Giving him the confidence he deserved to have was more than you could have asked for. He nuzzled you again, stroking your hair away from your face and then pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose.

 You giggled, a noise that you would never have made in a thousand years in public. But it made him grin, all big and happy and then he moved his hips and your world went quiet- soft and hot and spinning all at the same time.

 It was just the two of you, here in this office- in this little bubble that reminded you of the week before. His forehead was pressed against yours and his fingers were roaming across your skin with an impassioned eagerness- thumbing over your nipples and then sliding between your bodies to rub circles against your clit.

 His hips snapped suddenly against yours and it drove him home inside you. You arched up, pressing your slick stomach against his. You could feel the rough texture of his scar against you and when you opened your mouth to suck in a shaky breath, he found it with his and stopped you in your tracks.

 He found a good rhythm fairly quickly, breathy sighs escaping him with every roll of his body into yours.

 It had already been a warm day and was even warmer in the office, and sweat beaded on his forehead.

 Your hands found purchase wherever they could and eventually, one drifted up along his injured side without you even thinking. He didn’t stop his thrusts but they did slow, his steady rhythm faltering a little bit. You realised what you were doing and your eyes found his, arm suddenly tense. You didn’t want to move your hand- wanted to feel all of him, every part.

 You never wanted him to feel repulsive again. Ever.

 However, Toshi said nothing.

 Instead, his eyes bore into yours with a deep, bone shattering intensity. Fuck that was hot. He didn’t take his gaze away from yours for a second and it was like you were in a trance as he reeled back slowly- oh so fucking slowly- before slamming back into you.

 The sudden force of the thrust rattled your brain and it also tore a frantic, strangled sound from your throat.

 Pleasure rocketed through your body and when he did it again, you knew to expect it and rolled with him, timing it so you met him halfway. He grunted, his jaw going slack and his eyes squeezing shut as he concentrated on the pleasure he was taking from your body.

 Your name fell from his lips and hit you like warm summer rain on your skin. You answered with a cry and a garbled mess of pleading- begging him to take you harder, take you faster, love you, fuck you- please, please-

 “Baby, please,” you sobbed as he switched to shallow, half halting thrusts. He barely pulled out at all with every stroke and it seemed as though he suddenly wanted to be as close to you as possible.

 You only just managed to register what happened next.

 Warmth engulfed the hand that you’d kept on his ruined side and you eventually managed to break through the haze of pleasure in a moment of lucidity, glancing down.

 Your heart skipped a beat in your chest, then regained it’s pace and thundered hard against your rib cage.

 Toshi’s big hand covered yours, pressing your palm against the one thing that made him the most vulnerable. It was an incredible show of trust from him and you lunged upwards with your free hand, pulling him into a frenzied, hot kiss- almost letting out a sob into his mouth.

 He moaned and your tongue met his, replying with a choked, needy groan of your own.

 “Perfect, you’re perfect baby-” you said hurriedly, feeling the winding, throbbing tension in your groin building to a release.

 His hips stuttered as you spoke and you knew that as much as he was trying to hold back his climax, he wasn’t going to last much longer. You wanted to see him come. Wanted to see the desperate, sweet pleasure in his expression that you’d caused him.

 As though he’d read your mind, he glanced down between you to the sight of him sliding in and out of you, then back to your face.

 “You haven’t-” he choked, clearly realising what you were trying to do. You squeezed hard around his cock again and his next sentence cut off midway with an almost agonised moan. “Fuck, you, you haven’t come yet.”

 “I will,” you murmured reassuringly, already nearing the peak. You needed to see him. “I will, I promise. I wanna see you come Toshi,” you pleaded, one hand stroking his side gently and the other tangled in his hair to keep his face close to yours. He looked like he was going to argue some more but you kissed him hard, all tongue and teeth and his whine was music to your ears.

 His pace turned frantic as he did as you wanted, chasing his orgasm with a fury.

 His hips slapped against your ass and you could feel your arousal dripping out of you, covering you both and making every thrust sound slick and wet. Obscene noises filled the little office and the heat drove you both onwards- a writhing mess on the couch.

 He tensed suddenly and a long line of expletives mixed with your name, turned the air blue.

 Toshi came hard and the look of sweet ecstasy on his face was glorious.

 His body shuddered, throwing his hips forward in small, shaky movements as he came inside you. Wet warmth spread between your legs and that, coupled with the grinding against your clit was enough to send you where you wanted to go.

 Your orgasm rose in easy, pulsing waves like water breaking on the rocks and he kept up the soft circles on your clit all the while- guiding you through it. Your inner muscles fluttered around him and he huffed out a laboured breath, his arm shaking under the weight of keeping him upright.

 As your orgasm slowly receded, you relaxed backwards and released a breath you hadn’t even realised you were holding. Cheeks red and hair a mess, Toshi stared at you the whole time- his expression gravitating between satisfaction and disbelief.

 “You okay?” you asked, knowing full well that he was hovering between both yes and no. Now that the haze of lust was gently dispersing, the fact that he was naked and very much exposed to you was probably creeping back up on him. “Hey, look at me Toshinori.”

 When he did as you asked and his eyes met yours, you flashed him a sly grin and tugged him down to lay on you. His arm gave out and he landed on you with a startled noise. Laughter bubbled out of you at his surprised expression but it quickly turned to one of fond affection instead, when he realised that neither of you were freaking out.

 He wasn’t as heavy as you’d thought he would be and his body fit nicely against yours.

 You could feel come dribbling out of you and down to the couch below, his softening cock still very much inside you. Neither of you had the energy to do anything about it though which, hey, was a real shame because this couch should honestly be in a fucking hall of fame somewhere. At least, in your opinion.

 Presenting it to said museum might pose a bit of a problem.

 After a long moment, filled with gentle touches and kisses, he finally spoke, rising up on his elbows to come face to face with you.

 “Hey.”

 You were pretty sure you looked like a mess- having just been royally fucked on a couch in the middle of the summer heat. But the way he looked at you made you feel like a movie star or some shit. His eyes sparkled with something unspoken but pleasant and you couldn’t stop the giddy smile that broke across your face.

 “Hi,” you managed to say at last, stroking his hair away from his forehead. “So um… are you gonna thank Hizashi after this? Because you probably should.”

 His laugh was loud, energetic and happy. He laughed like he used to and it drew all sorts of emotions that you’d been holding back to the surface. You blinked hard, feeling tears forming in the corners of your eyes when you did. Damn, stupid emotions, you thought bluntly.

 So you buried your face into his neck before he could see your tears. You didn’t want him thinking that he’d done something wrong and you didn’t want to explain why you were crying like an asshole after really great sex.

 “I’ll send him a card,” he chuckled, hugging you close to him and that just made the tears come harder than before- but you curled closer and discreetly wiped your eyes. His hand swept up along your side and you both lay quietly for a moment, you collecting yourself and him basking in the blissful afterglow.

 It took you a minute to get your emotions in check but you did eventually and soon, it was becoming far too warm laying underneath him. As reluctant as you were to move, you nudged him and he took the hint- slipping out of you at last and rolling to the side.

 You shifted, pillowing your head on your arm. It was, thankfully, an easy task being face to face with him while you were both horizontal. He grinned, mirroring your pose and for a few moments you both lay like that- his free hand tracing lazy circles against the softness of your stomach.

 In the warmth of the room and the heat from his body, it would have been easy to drift into a dozy sleep but you resisted the pull of exhaustion.

 Instead, you trailed a finger across his scar, finally taking the time to look at it properly. He tensed more out of habit than anything else, but said nothing to stop you as you explored. You were almost fascinated by the pattern it made. Like a sunflower burned into his skin.

 “I would punch them,” you said finally, looking back to his face and finding his expression light and almost pleased.

 His eyebrow quirked in curiosity, a half smile forming on his lips.

 “Punch them? Who?”

 “The person who did that to you. I would punch them. So fucking hard,” you said firmly, with a conviction you didn’t know you possessed. His expression softened and his gaze dipped to your lips as though he wanted to kiss you. Then, he remembered that he was technically allowed to kiss you and so he did, dipping forward to find your lips- languid and hot.

 “No need to, kid,” he said when he pulled away. “I already did.” Pride tinged his voice when said that. “Besides. I would never let him get close enough to you to punch. Never.”

 He gave you a stern look but it didn’t hold much weight seeing as his hair was sticking up in every direction and you were both still very naked. It was difficult to pull off serious when you were naked. True facts. Sliding your thigh between his legs, you watched his expression change from serious to amused when you waggled your eyebrows at him.

 “Heh, you liiiiike me,” you singsonged childishly and he snorted, rolling his eyes as though he could deny it. “C’mon Toshi,” you jabbed him lightly in his uninjured side and he jerked, choking out a laugh. He was ticklish it seemed. “Admit it. You wanna kiiiiiss me-”

 You were abruptly and very rudely, in your opinion, cut off when he did just that. But you were both smiling too hard for it to be a proper kiss- simply giggling and laughing against each others mouths.

 Your teasing had clearly lightened his mood even more and honestly, if you could make him look like this every day for the rest of your lives, you’d happily do it. In the back of your mind, you wondered if he’d like that too.

 You hummed a pleased sound, butterflies erupting in your stomach.

 “Yeah, I guess I do,” he said. He didn’t elaborate which part he was talking about, but you didn’t mind.

 Either one was good for you.

[rainpuddle13]

19. playing with each other’s fingers

Ross&Demelza

I apologize, @veryflowerobservation, for taking so long to post this. It sorta got away from me :P I hope you enjoy!

This fic is a prequel to Tears and Sunflowers.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It was an ungodly hour.  This having to get to the airport a minimum of four hours before an international flight was for the birds.  Their flight to New York was scheduled to depart at 8:35am.  Ross didn’t even know why he bothered to attempt to catch a few hours of sleep the previous night. Demelza was practically vibrating with excitement in the bed next to him. She had never flown before. So he’d done the only thing he could do in that situation -- help her work off some of that nervous energy -- and he bore the marks on his shoulders to prove it.  He just felt sorry for the very nice elderly couple who were occupying the room next door to theirs at the hotel.

He checked his watch with a groan.  

6:21am.

He thanked the good Lord above for exclusive traveler lounges. If he had to queue with the masses in the main terminal, he might not be responsible for his actions. That early in the morning, access to only that swill that passed for coffee at Costa, and masses of travelers with varying degrees of comportment would have him seriously contemplating murder. It would be a very poor defence if he was brought before the crown court, but surely an understandable one.

“You should eat something,” he said to her after she kept fiddling with the fingers of his hand resting on the knee if her crossed legs. They were cuddled together on a small sofa in a quiet spot where she could take in all of the hustle and bustle of the enormous lounge. There were quite a few people for that early in the morning, but there was so much space that it hardly felt crowded.  He could feel her leg bouncing as she wiggled her foot. “The food is usually pretty exceptional.”

“I don’t know if I could,” she told him, weaving their fingers together and stilling her fidgeting for a moment, “too excited.”

Ross snorted softly as he was never one to be too nervous or tired to eat something. “You could get a haircut or a massage instead,” he teased, glancing over to see the expression on her face.  The Virgin Atlantic Clubhouse Lounge at Heathrow was an overwhelming place with all sorts of over-the-top posh amenities.  She was impressed they’d been picked up at the hotel and delivered to the airport in a private car and then were whisked through priority check-in and security in a matter of minutes.

“Really?” she asked, eyes widening with the obvious sensory overload she was experiencing.

“Yes,” he assured her, chuckling a little, and knowing her head would have exploded if she knew how much two upper class tickets had cost.  “There’s a spa too and shower rooms.”  Ross had wanted her first international flight to be comfortable and memorable, but he feared it might set her expectation a bit high for any future trips they might take. There was a far cry between the pampering in upper class and the indignities of the overcrowded economy class.  It was just as well because he would need the extra legroom these days with his stiff knee.

She pressed a little closer to him and her fingers toyed with the heavy rose gold band he wore on his left ring finger that matched the more delicate one she wore.  “You want to eat something don’t you?” she inquired.

“What I actually want is coffee,” he paused for a moment, his stomach answered her question with a low grumble, “and I probably could nosh on something.”  He’d opted to keep his eyes closed for a few precious minutes while she got ready instead of sending for room service, safe in the knowledge that there would be an abundance of food and drink provided by the airline.

“I can try to nibble on something.”  She pressed a kiss to his scruffy cheek before standing up and holding her hand out to him and he couldn’t help but notice his beautiful wife attracting the attention of several of the men around them. Demelza was comfortably dressed in jeans that showed off her long legs to perfection and a deep gold turtleneck topped off with a rich brown leather jacket, and her glorious crown of red hair was barely contained by a loose braid.

Within a matter of minutes, he was attempting not to guzzle a cup of expertly brewed Sumatran coffee while waiting for his fry up to be brought to him.  Demelza carefully sipped her steaming cup of tea, but left her plate of assorted breads and pastries untouched.  He reached across the cozy dining  table to snag a flaky and buttery croissant off the plate.  

“You’re going to eat everything off my plate aren’t you?”  he asked when she raised an eyebrow at his thievery. 

“Noooo,” she swore, her eyes following the heavily laden plate an attendant placed before him followed by another to replace his near empty coffee cup with a fresh one.

He picked up the knife and fork to start in on the perfectly poached eggs after a liberal dousing of pepper. “You too can have your own plate. All you have to do is ask.”

“I don’t think I could!” she insisted, stabbing a bit of roast potato and grilled mushroom with own fork. 

“Likely story,” he snorted, pushing his plate to the middle of the table so she could graze more easily. This was a common occurrence with her -- insisting she couldn’t possibly then proceed to demolish his plate in fairly short order. It always happened when he ordered something that was absolutely terrible for him, but so very good for that exact reason. Anyone else and Ross would find the behavior less than endearing.

“Are you going to tell me why we’re going to New York?” she queried while attacking the fried bread to smear in the runny eggs he had somehow managed to get a few bites of before she could turn her sights on them. “Not that I’m complaining mind;  I’ve always wanted to go, but it’s a long way for a few days.”

It took everything in him not to blurt out the reason for what seemed like a sudden weekend jaunt across the pond, but actually had been in the works for months. She loved Van Gogh. The Met was having a once-in-a-lifetime exhibit. How could he not take her?  “I told you I really wanted good pizza.”

“Oh, Ross,” she sighed in frustration, then changed her tactic.  “You’ve been to New York before then?”

“Loads of times,” he answered, slathering strawberry jam on his croissant since it was becoming abundantly clear  he wasn’t going to get to eat the breakfast he’d ordered himself,  “though it’s been a few years now.  Father used to go fairly regularly for business and would drag me along.”

“What did you do when you were there?”

“I used to spend a lot of time at the natural history museum and the New York Public Library.”

“Of course you did,” she smiled fondly as she spoke.  She was well aware of his love of doing research and learning.

“I like dinosaurs,” he said matter-a-factly, "and the museum has an amazing exhibit.”  It was true. He did like dinosaurs, even now, and he’d wanted to dig for them up until the point he discovered girls were infinitely more interesting, and alive.  Demelza didn’t need to know that bit though.

“You are such a boy,” she said with a shake of her head. “What else did you two men do on the town?”

“Sometimes we take in a show or go to dinner at fancy restaurants.  I didn’t realize it at the time, but he was trying to teach me a bit of culture.  One time we went because Papa wanted to see Van Morrison at Radio City Music Hall.”

“Really?”  

He chuckled, surprised that little piece of information had taken her by surprise. She did know his father pretty well at this point.  “He is a fan.”

“I’d say so. He can be so impulsive!”

“You have no idea,” Ross drawled, tamping down some very unpleasant memories from his youth that she need not be burdened with,  “you didn’t know him in his heyday.”

She smiled fondly, and it warmed Ross’ heart that his wife and his father got on like a house on fire, but he could not help the occasional flare of jealousy it caused. “I bet he was quite the charmer back then,” Demelza giggled.

“You’d probably be married to him instead of me,” he said with a fair dash of bitterness. There were still a few things he just could not let go of and he knew it as childish to hold on to them for as long as he had, but then logic and his father were often mutually exclusive.

“I dunno about that.” Demelza reached across to take his hand with hers, twining their fingers and giving them a little squeeze, her eyes going soft as she looked at him. “I sorta kinda love you.”

“Only sorta kinda?” he teased, pulling her hand up to place a playful kiss to her knuckles.

“From the first time I saw you in the library,” she confessed, her cheeks suddenly blooming pink.

“Is that so, Mrs Poldark?” That was news to him and he was most definitely intrigued.  Ross had known he was a goner for Demelza the first time he laid eyes upon her, even if it took him months to actually admit to himself, and then even longer to let her in on his feelings. He’d had no inkling she’d felt the same. So much wasted time.

“Saved by the boarding call,” she crowed when the announcement of their flight interrupted their playful banter, and quickly began gathering up her things. The head of the cute little calico stuffed animal cat he’d surprised her with that morning was peeking out of the top of her purse.  The airplane charm that had been on the ribbon about its neck had quickly been added to her bracelet.

He grabbed up his laptop bag to sling over his shoulder and his cane. “Don’t think for one second that this conversation is over.”

“Not if I can make you forget about it,” she said with what could only be described as a diabolical grin.

He eyed her with great suspicion. It wasn’t in her nature to be scheming that much he did know, but she was definitely up to something. The question was going to be whether or not he’d survive whatever it was.  “And just how do you plan to do that?” he challenged.

“Oh, I dunno,” she purred, taking his hand before pressing in close to him to place a very sweet and demure kiss to his cheek.  “Have you ever heard of the Mile High Club?”

[amandaoftherosemire]

Hey Pretty

Fandom: Marvel AU

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Reader

Characters: Steve Rogers

Author: @amandarosemire

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 8,133

Format: One-shot

Warnings: Smut, 18+ only, sexting, language, masturbation (male and female), descriptions of explicit images, sexual intercourse, minor dom/sub dynamics if you squint.

Summary: Steve wakes up from dreaming about you while away on a mission. Sexting and smut ensue.

A/N: I spent most of August working on getting back into writing in between catastrophes. Why this manifested in a smutty, fluffy bit of Steve fic, I don’t know, but I’m not really worried about it. I am a little concerned that this gives away that my kink is people doing what I tell them, but I also imagine I’m not the only one who think it would be a lot of fun to tell Steve Rogers what to do.

I had this done a while ago but hadn’t found a moment to proofread and post it because I started a new job. Then my state’s seasonal wildfires went crazy thanks to record winds and everything fell apart again. Then it settled into a white-knuckled waiting game while we literally prayed for rain. Now that it’s pouring once again, I could sit down for five minutes to shine it up and post it. I hope y’all enjoy. :)

Texts from you in Bold.

Texts from Steve in Italics.

Hey Pretty

The air was close and thick, each breath in hot and slow as syrup. Every one of those humid breaths carried the warm seductive scent of sweat and sultry sex into his head, his mind, leaving him lost. The taste of salt and sweet on his mouth vied with the sensation of silken skin as his lips and hands slid over soft flesh, seeking both to feel and be felt.

Soft whimpers and low moans poured into his ear along with gentle, demanding whispers that set his brain and body ablaze. Every part of him yearned to fulfill every request, satisfy every need. All he wanted in return was to saturate his senses in the endless pool of desire into which he’d fallen.

When soft hands slid into his hair to clench and grip, his willpower broke. As he moved to give in, to let himself be taken over by desire, by pleasure, he woke gasping and hard enough to cut glass.

Staring at the ceiling of a motel room he shared with a friend and teammate, Steve focused on keeping his breathing slow and silent. He didn’t want to wake Sam, whose soft, even snores sounded from across the room. He valiantly tried to ignore the fact that it would take maybe three strokes of his hand to finish what dreaming of you had begun.

Folding his hands behind his head, he attempted to put the dream out of his mind by going over the mission he’d be running in a few short hours. He failed almost immediately, his imagination too detailed, his senses too keen, his memory too clear. You haunted him.

He could too easily recall the scent of your hair, the softness of your skin, the sweetness that he'd discovered lay just a little under the surface. He’d only needed to scratch a little to find it.

Steve gave up and rolled to his side to snatch up his phone. He’d typed out I miss you and hit send before he could think better of it. As soon as it was gone, he wished the words back, still anxious about showing too much vulnerability, not to mention breaking protocol by texting anyone while on this mission. Doing quick mental math to figure out what time it was back in New York, he waited, a little worried, for your answer.

You have literally no chill, Rogers. You’re lucky you’re so sexy.

Steve grinned at your response, his tension dissipating in the rush of electricity he always felt when you teased him, your warm humor lighting him up, the first of a thousand things he’d fallen for. Any contact with you, any reminder of you could rocket through him and make him shine. The smell of your perfume, the sound of your voice, your words on a screen, anything you did filled him up and steadied him, no matter how empty or fragile he felt.          

Hey, pretty. I miss you too btw.

His heart sighed when your second text came through. You were sharp and strong and since the moment you’d come striding into his life in combat boots and covered in attitude, he’d been riveted, unable to resist you. When you’d turned the sweet sunshine beneath the attitude on him, he’d been captivated, unable to refuse you.

I was dreaming of you. Woke up and needed you.

Steve stared at the message for a moment with his heart pounding. He'd gotten better at this kind of honesty, but it still terrified to step out on the ledge. He hit send before he could rethink it and then rewrite it until he sent nothing at all. You'd never yet made him regret telling you how he felt. He was starting to trust that you never would.

Must have been some dream to have you breaking radio silence during a mission. Good? I hope?

He grinned, practically able to hear your wry, seductive tones as he read your message. That sultry, smirking attitude had drawn him in from the beginning and had only wrapped him more and more tightly the more time he spent with you. By the time he’d worked up the nerve to ask you out, he’d already fallen half in love with that alone.

Us. The night before I left.

His heart sped a little more at the images flashing across his mind. A mixture of the heated imaginings of his unconscious mind and the memories of the one and only night he’d spent with you had his skin running with heat even as the erection that refused to abate hardened almost painfully.

Ahhhhhh. I love it. Tell me everything.

Steve stifled a laugh at your answer. He’d swear he’d never met anyone like you. Tough and terrifyingly efficient during business hours, he’d never imagined the hidden depths he would find as you'd slowly let him in. Under that fierce exterior, he'd first found a warm and generous humor, then a soft and generous heart. He'd most recently been delighted to discover an avowed and generous hedonist in your bed.

I shouldn’t. I’m sharing a room with Sam.

He felt a brief twinge of regret, wondering what you'd have said or done if he'd told you about his dream, if he'd been alone and free to do so. The full intimacy that had just blossomed between you had followed an intense courtship where he'd learned how diabolically patient you could be. He'd long since discovered your ability to drive him wild from a distance.

You’re so fucking adorable. I bet you could get some privacy in the bathroom.

Heart kicking, Steve immediately moved to get out of the bed. Whatever you had in mind, he knew he needed privacy to deal with it. Not that he wasn't certain he'd like it. He always enjoyed letting you have your way with him, no matter the situation. Tapping out a quick reply, he moved as silently as he could to the bathroom.

Do I need privacy?

Shutting and locking the door behind him, he waited for your answer with bated breath.

For what happens next, yes.

Steve dropped down onto the closed lid of the toilet when his knees went weak. Anticipation had his heart already pounding in his ears.

Okay. I’m in the bathroom. What happens next?

His mind raced with possibilities as his skin ran hot. He’d learned from experience that you could always surprise him, especially with the creative turns your mind could take. He’d long since given himself into your hands with no regrets.

Turn the shower on cold.

At least, he’d had no regrets until now. Steve frowned at his phone but stood to comply with the command even as he hoped you weren’t about to send him into a cold shower. You had a wicked sense of humor so he wouldn't put it past you to be having fun with him.

Unless you want Sam to hear you.

Steve grinned, relieved and yet edgy, and shivered in anticipation. He could almost feel your breath on his neck, could almost hear the sultry undercurrent to your voice. He loved it when you had fun with him like this, was happy to take your orders, especially when those orders took on this tone.

At the end of your first date, you’d seen through him to the twitchy anxiety he'd been poorly hiding. Instead of the disdain he'd feared, you'd responded by taking his face in your hands to kiss him for the first time. That sweet first kiss had spun out when he’d forgotten his anxiety in the gentle press of your lips against his. He’d fallen completely under your spell when you’d whispered against his mouth, “Why don’t I tell you what I want, Steve, so you don’t tie yourself in knots trying to figure it out?” The relief he'd felt at the mere thought had allowed him to kiss you properly the second time.

Since that day, you'd made good on that offer in a thousand ways, leading him on a tempestuous journey of affection and fun with an honesty so sweet and hot that it left him putty in your hands. All you’d asked in return was that he be equally honest about what he felt, what he wanted.

Done.

Hands shaking a little, he kept his eyes on his phone as he waited for the next step. He was certain now you were about to lead him on an adventure. Though he knew he shouldn't follow, knew he could tell you he wasn't comfortable and you'd easily segue into something light and probably funny, he also knew he wasn't going to stop this. He'd told you he'd woken needing you; he wasn't surprised that you'd offer to give him what he needed.

Have a seat. ;)

The winking smiley face was your way of letting him know you were fully up to no good and if he wanted out now, he should speak up. He adored how careful you were to make sure he was fully on board with whatever you wanted to do. You took care with him but wrapped it in a warm humor that was almost as seductive as the tenderness underneath.

Now take that pretty cock out and wrap your hand around it.

Steve was grateful you'd told him to sit down as his knees turned to water in the rush of lust that blew through him. The hand not holding his phone moved to obey even as he let out a shuddering breath of reaction. Knowing he had to be quiet or risk embarrassing himself made his heart race in either anxiety or excitement, he wasn’t ever really sure when you tempted him out onto ledges like this. His chest tightened, his breath choking in his lungs, making him feel like he was on the verge of an asthma attack, if he still had those.

But every other time he'd followed you into this sensation, he'd found nothing but pleasure and passion on the other side. He wasn't going to back out now. As he pushed his underwear down his other hand tapped out a quick reply.

Yes, ma'am.

Steve's brain offered up the image of your slow, wicked smile whenever he gave in to your demands and his desires. He loved that his obedience to your commands brought you as much excitement as it did him. He loved knowing he could please you, loved that you never left him in doubt as to how.

You're so pretty. Does it feel good?

God

Yes

Steve didn't move, his hand wrapped around his cock but not stroking, not yet. Not until you told him to start.

Mmm. What were we doing in your dream the moment you woke up?

That 'mmm' stood in for the sultry laugh that came out of you whenever you were deliberately teasing him. The thought of that tease, that laugh had his dick twitching in his hand. You knew he adored the slow build, had taken your time working him up to the night he'd spent with you right before leaving on this mission. He'd loved every minute of it, thoroughly enjoyed the odd paradox of frustration mounting through repeated satisfaction. Making love to you, at last, had been glorious.

His breathing already ragged, the memory of that night in the soft romance of his dream drifted across his mind's eye. You'd been sweeter that night than he'd ever known possible, tender in your demands, gentle in your requests. A night unlike any other in his experience, he'd never expected the dark and debauched to be so bright and beautiful.

I was sliding inside you for the first time. I could have cried when I woke up.

Muscles quivering with the effort to stay still, Steve waited. He wasn't disappointed.

Pretty. Are you as hard now as you were then?

Almost

Oh, I wanna see. Would you take a picture? Send it to me?

Steve bit his lip to stifle the moan that wanted to lift out of him. He was more certain now that it was excitement, not fear, but he felt a prickle of anxiety run up his spine, nonetheless. Not only was he naturally shy, he was uncomfortably famous. He examined how he felt, and decided quickly, typing his response and hitting send just as a text from you came through.

Yes ma'am.

I'll go first, sweetie.

Steve quite simply melted. He adored the strong and sarcastic, but he had no defense against the sweet and kind. The way you’d asked combined with the endearment you only used when you were being particularly tender eased every fear, every worry. Still feeling shy, he nonetheless lifted the phone to snap a picture of his achingly hard cock in his still motionless fist.

As he was preparing to send it, however, your picture came through. He whimpered at the sight of you on his screen, pink and glistening. His hand reflexively tightened, and he started to moan aloud before he remembered himself. His cock hardened to the point of pain as he locked his muscles, resisting the urge to move his hand for a little relief.

Panting, he snapped another picture, knowing you’d love to see what the image of your fingers sliding over and through and into your pretty cunt did to him. He’d already been flushed and on the edge. Looking at you, remembering how you’d felt moving under his hands only intensified the sensation of aching need and the red heat that suffused his skin. He sent you both pictures with a text that read, How do you do this to me?

Mmm. Did my picture get you that excited?

God yes

You’re killing me doll

Me too sweetie. So fucking hot. Go ahead and start sliding your hand up and down that gorgeous cock of yours, pretty.

Steve shuddered in relief as he slowly began to move his hand, though the way you spoke to him had his stomach muscles tightening with lust. He bit his lip to hold back the moan of pleasure, the sensation made more intense by the wait. His eyes fixed on the picture you’d sent, he imagined replacing your fingers with his own.

I like that you were dreaming of me. I loved taking you. Being taken by you.

Another groan tried to escape as Steve tried to type despite the pleasure running over his skin. His hand moved faster as wetness spread over the head of his cock and eased the motion.

God me too. It was so good. I’ve dreamt of you every night this week.

"Oh, fuck!" Steve whispered the words in a voice tight with lust as his hand began to speed. You'd sent him another picture and the sight was more than he could stand. The photo was taken from the same vantage point he'd have if he was about to use his mouth on you, the memory of which had him thrusting mindlessly. The smooth columns of your thighs framed your pleasure as you arched under your own hands. Your body was bared and beautiful and your eyes glowed with power and promise. Slick and wet, his hand moved more quickly over his cock as memories of you over him, under him seared his mind.

Do you want to do filthy things to me, pretty?

Steve's mind exploded with possibilities and immediately triggered the climax he'd been trying to hold back. Reliving the glory of being inside you, of making you cry out in ecstasy, he came with a soft groan, shuddering as he coaxed every last quake of pleasure from his body. Panting and boneless, he lay in awe of your ability to wreck him even when you weren't there.

His hand shaking slightly, he tapped out the first thing that came into his head.

And you call me pretty. You’re so beautiful. I couldn’t hold back.

Too heavy for his neck, Steve let his head fall back, resting it against the wall behind him as he tried to catch his breath. He found himself once again awed and baffled by your ability to tempt him so easily into situations that he couldn't have even imagined before he met you.

Mmm. Are you a mess? Show me?

Blushing rosy red against the creamy skin of his face, neck, and chest, he lifted his phone to take another picture. Angling the camera to capture both his naked body and his shy smile, he snapped a photo he knew would make you crazy. You loved to see what you did to him, loved to see him sated, soaked in pleasure. When you went to such sweet effort to bring him to this point, he couldn't see how it was fair to deny you the evidence.

So sexy. I love it. I’m so close. Tell me about your dream

Steve smiled at your response, gratified by the knowledge that he could drive you as wild as you drove him. He wondered if you were making the little whimpers in your throat yet. He could always tell when you were about to let go, when he'd pushed you up and over the edge.

I was touching you. Sliding my hands all over you. You’re so soft.

Not sure how to continue, Steve hit send. The dream had been nothing but sensation, hot breath and slick skin. He paused a moment, considering the best way to describe for you the images his subconscious had conjured. As he weighed his words, a picture of you came through.

Tousled and smiling, your face had taken on that particular softness his perfect eyesight had memorized in recent weeks. Saturated in pleasure, your face only looked this sweetly relaxed after you were satisfied.

Mmm. Pretty. You fuck me so good, baby.

Steve laughed softly, exhilarated if a little shocked at how easily he always let you lead him into temptation, let you take over. Other attempts at relationships since he'd come out of the ice had always ultimately failed when he couldn't relax enough to be himself. But being with you was as easy as breathing, in no small part because you so confidently took command.

Looking down at himself, he shook his head at the mess you'd once again made of him.

How do you do this to me?

Standing up, Steve set his phone on the counter and glanced at the washcloth hanging on the towel bar. He figured he'd need a shower before he started the day anyway and it was close enough to dawn that he was done with sleep for now. When your message came through, he smiled at your unrelenting sweetness.

You let me. Don’t forget to turn the hot water on before you get in that shower.

Except I might still need to cool off.

Can’t argue with that. Go get the bad guys, then get your ass back to me.

Yes, ma’am.

Your heart kicked into high gear when you heard that the quinjet had touched down.

Steve was home.

Steve, with his serious eyes and hands so gentle it almost ached where he touched, would soon be walking through your office door for debriefing. And you were expected to cope with that.

Steve Rogers, a man with a heart as good as it was wild, was enchanted with you. The very idea was still largely inexplicable to you. You'd never been the sort to argue with a good thing, however, and you certainly weren't going to start now. What mattered was that you were making each other happy, that he was as sweet as he was sexy and you clicked in a way that you'd never expected but for which you were profoundly grateful.

That didn't mean that you knew how to handle it.

The whole thing had started so innocently, lunchtime walks over the grounds of the compound. Steve had started coming by your office in the middle of the day, his excuse that he wanted to make sure you weren’t chained to your desk, get you moving. You’d thought he was simply being himself, kind and caring and a little overly conscientious.

Over the course of those walks, however, you’d become friends, and dear friends, but you’d never expected anything more. He was so careful, so guarded, you'd never realized that you were seducing him with your playful teasing and genuine interest in the man behind the shield. When, after a couple of months of those daily walks, he’d asked you to dinner with the dread of rejection sick in his smile, you’d been completely shocked.

You didn’t know it, but your complete surprise at his invitation had been utterly unexpected; Steve had thought himself painfully obvious in his crush. Your astonishment, followed by a slow, delighted grin spreading across your face, had made Steve’s heart jump in anticipation. Your reply, voice full of fun and mischief, "Steven, I would love to have dinner with you; I like a pretty view while I eat," had made him blush and smile in a way that had made your heart pound like a drum.

That first date had been wonderful, an extension of those daily walks but with a new dimension revealed by the change in your relationship. You were flirting with purpose now, not simply to tease a friend. He was so adorable, you couldn't resist, his blushing, gratified smiles too tempting.

When he'd walked you to your door, the sick dread was back in his smile and you'd had an epiphany. Making the first move was agony for someone like Steve. Having to put his true self on the line to be accepted or rejected at the whim of another was a nightmare for him. You could see he was terrified of the moment he'd have to lean in to kiss you good night, dreading the possibility that you might turn him away.

As you reached your door, you'd turned to him with a sultry smile and slid your hands up and over his gorgeous chest, something you'd been fantasizing about for a while, until you had his pretty face in your hands. You'd pulled his face to yours and pressed soft, warm lips to his, kissing him firmly, but gently.

"Why don’t I tell you what I want, Steve, so you don’t tie yourself in knots trying to figure it out?”

The breath of relief he'd huffed out would have made you laugh if your mouth hadn't immediately been taken in the hottest, sweetest tangle of lips and teeth and tongue you'd ever experienced. His arms had come around you to cradle you against his body like you were delicate and precious and in that moment you felt it, certain you were already in over your head with Steve Rogers.

"I'd love that, doll," he'd whispered in return when the kiss finally broke, his breath ragged. "What do you want?"

You'd chuckled darkly at that, your body humming and blood rushing with lust. "I want to take you inside and have my wicked way with you," you'd brushed your fingertips over the nape of his neck and made him tremble, "but I think we should take it slow, take our time. So, I'll take another kiss like the last to keep me warm for now."

“Yes, ma’am.”

The smile that spread across his face right before his lips met yours told you that you'd made the right call. Steve was the sort that moved at a slower pace, needed room to feel. Over the next couple of months, you'd given him that space as you slowly deepened the intimacy between you, learning what he liked, teaching him what you liked. With only a little patience, he’d proven eager to learn and innately adept at the study.

As you’d become more physically familiar, you’d also explored the added emotional dimension to your relationship, the vulnerability that comes when you allow a friend to become something more. Not that you’d had reason to regret that decision yet, Steve having also proven a sweet and attentive boyfriend.

By the time you'd come together, you'd found a number of creative ways to satisfy both of you while still building the anticipation. The wait had ensured that you were physically comfortable with one another before you’d gotten to that last glorious night together.

You’d deliberately chosen a night before he left for a mission to invite him to stay, to make love with you and wake in your bed. You’d been unable to wait any longer, the desperate need too much to hold back, but you'd also wanted to keep the edge of his desire for you well honed. You hadn't considered what the enforced separation after such a night would do to you, too. When he’d broken radio silence to text you during a mission, you’d been both moved and gratified, but you'd also needed him with an ache you'd never known before. You'd been unable to stop yourself from using the opportunity to take the edge off.

You'd also been exasperated, radio silence had been placed on the mission for a reason, but that was professional.

No harm had come of it, but it was still a breach in protocol.

You looked up when Steve knocked on the door as he opened it, poking his head into your office, as had become his habit over the previous months. “Come on in, Cap," you said with a slow, warm smile. "Have a seat."

"Yes, ma'am." His eyes were hot as he settled into the chair on the other side of your desk. The words sent a shiver of lust up your spine and over your scalp when coupled with the sweet appreciative grin that lit up his face. You had to be ever vigilant lest you get lost in his ocean eyes. The man was unfairly pretty, hence the pet name.

The debriefing went quickly as the mission had gone mostly to plan. What few deviations had occurred were in minor variables and were easily documented. Steve didn't have anything to add to what you'd heard from Sam and Natasha, but you believed in being thorough. Once you heard it once more from Steve, you pushed all of it aside without a twinge of guilt. 

Before you moved on entirely, however, you fixed him with a gimlet stare. "I'm surprised I have to remind you of this, Captain, but radio silence was put on this mission for a reason." One eyebrow and the corner of your mouth lifted as he grinned at you.

"That takes care of business." You got to your feet and rounded your desk to cross to the door, flipping the lock as your heart started to race. "Now," you went on in a purr as you circled back around to slide into Steve's lap. Heart singing, you pressed your lips to his in a soft kiss. "Hey, pretty."

Steve was in heaven. He wrapped his arms around you to press you close and reveled in the feel of your body against his. Dimly, in a far-off corner of his mind, he wondered if he should be concerned by his tendency to get lost in you, the ease and speed with which you enthralled him. But you were nuzzling your mouth across his cheeks and mouth, seducing him all over again with sweetness, and he couldn't find it in him to care. "Hey, babydoll," he sighed happily as his eyes fluttered closed.

"So ya missed me, huh?"

Steve smiled at your playful tones but kept his eyes closed as he basked in the feeling of your mouth against his skin, of being adored by you. How could he not miss you when you made him feel this way? His voice a sigh, the sound made you tremble deep inside. "I did."

"I like that." Your voice throbbed with an emotion you weren't ready to name but knew you'd have to deal with soon. Steve seemed to hear it, as his eyes opened to see your face, his eyebrows quirking in question. Your smile twisted wryly as you shrugged a little. "I like being missed."

Steve's pretty face melted into a smile rich with affection as one of his big hands slid up your back, his warm palm between your shoulder blades and pressing you into his chest. His lips as soft as his touch, he kissed you with the same tenderness he'd shown you from the start, the same tenderness that had seduced you before you'd realized it was happening. You didn't know what he'd seen in your face to make him kiss you like this, but you weren't going to argue.

Your breathing ragged and your throat thick with that nameless, dangerous emotion, you broke the kiss to bury your face in the crook of his neck, brushing your lips over the soft skin under his ear. "I missed you too, sweetie," you whispered, your breath wafting across his ear and making him shiver agreeably. You could feel it, and it made you needy, made your voice turn husky with that need. "I haven't been able to stop thinking about those pictures you sent me."

Steve stretched his neck to give you better access, the sensation of your mouth on his skin a temptation he couldn't resist. Simply being in the same room with you was intoxicating; he’d already been hard as steel by the time you'd slid into his lap. Your touch, your voice, your scent, everything about you set him aflame. "You didn't keep them?"

"I told you; I'm the jealous type." You lifted your head to nip at his lips with a wicked smirk and eyes that burned. "I couldn't risk anyone else seeing them. Only way to be sure was to delete them."

The hand that had been squeezing your hip came up to cup your face when every part of him softened in adoration, appreciation. He wasn't the least surprised to find that you'd acted to protect him, but he was still deeply grateful. "I deleted yours, too." His mouth twisted when your eyebrow raised in mock suspicion. "Didn't want them falling into the wrong hands. Damn near broke my heart to do it, but…"

When he trailed off with a shrug, you tilted your head back and laughed out at the twinkle in his eye behind his look of broken-hearted regret. You combed your fingers through his hair, fisting your hands there and tilting his head back to smile affectionately into his gorgeous face. "I'll send you more, you pretty thing."

When his grin flashed, cheerful and sweet, you couldn't resist his plump, pink lips any longer. You took his mouth with yours, kissing him deeply, with heat. With purpose.

Gasping breaths inward escaped as panting moans as your mouths pressed and tangled together. You shamelessly rubbed your breasts against his chest as your hands began to skim over the muscles of his shoulders and arms. Your tongue curled around his as you encouraged him with your mouth and body to touch you more, kiss you harder.

Steve cradled you in his lap as gently as he could while still pressing you close, holding you tight. He knew his strength, tried to be mindful of it out of concern that he might hurt or scare you. Sometimes he thought he gripped too tightly, his mind so easily muddled by you, but you never complained.

In fact, sometimes you straight up ordered him to stop treating you as though you were as delicate as he knew you to be and touch you already. Sometimes, like today, you showed him your impatience physically, pulling at his clothes and arching into his hands. When you tore your mouth from his to scramble to your feet, he was confused for half a second before you were pulling him up with you.

"Doll," he breathed, his heart running away with him as you backed into your desk and boosted yourself up onto it, "I'm falling hard for you." You wrapped your legs around his hips as you fisted your hands in his shirt to drag him close. "I don't know if you want serious, but I can't help it."

Steve thought he'd just made a colossal mistake when your movements slowed and your eyes lifted to his, your face a study in consternation. His heart started beating again when your face softened into a smile and then a laugh as you lifted your hands from his belt to his face.

"I'm trying to fuck and you're trying to talk about our relationship." You pulled his mouth to yours and kissed him softly, sweetly, utterly charmed. "Steve," you crooned as you smoothed your thumbs over his cheeks, "my sweetheart." You huffed out a shaky laugh, the vulnerability of the moment hitting you all at once. Your mouth twisted with wry affection as your eyes searched his worried face. You went on, your voice an aching sigh. "I don't want you to help it. I don't know how to do serious, but I'm starting to think I'd do anything for you."

Steve felt the muscles in the back of his neck relax. On a sigh of relief, he rested his forehead against yours as the hands at your waist slid around your back to hold you close. He had known you wouldn't make him regret telling you the truth about his feelings, but he'd barely hoped that you would reciprocate them. He'd never anticipated that anyone could make him feel the way you did and was gratified to the bone that he could make you feel the same.

Arms wrapped around your back, one hand squeezing your hip, the other cupped around the nape of your neck, Steve kissed you. Slow, and gentle, he coaxed your lips apart like a man with nothing but time. His mouth brushed and clung to yours with a diabolical kind of tenderness as his body pressed more firmly against yours. Eyes bright and warm, he broke the kiss to smile and whisper, mild concern and confusion chasing one another across his face. "I know the feeling."

The relentless honesty that characterized Steve could be its own kind of trouble. He was in so many ways an open book, it made it easy for you to see the struggle he sometimes had with his emotions. On the other hand, you had only to pay attention to know what he was thinking and feeling. Steve, and everything he was, made you feel safe and secure in a way no one ever had before.

"Oh, baby, don't worry," you murmured, linking your wrists behind his neck and nuzzling at his mouth. "I'm as flustered by this as you are. I know you can't believe the things you'll do if I ask it," your voice dropped to a rasp as your thighs tightened around his hips, "because I can't believe it either." You shrugged, and you let him see how he dazzled you in your smile. "I talk a big game, but every day I'm stunned all over again that you like it. That you like me."

"You are so fucking sweet." Steve's voice was rich with wonder as he spoke. His eyes burned as he huffed out a laugh of astonished joy and his head dipped to yours. No longer slow and gentle, he kissed you with an urgent passion that you soaked up and returned with abandon. When his hand slipped from your hip to squeeze your ass and his lips grew hungrier on yours, you chuckled in your throat and let your hands drop back to his belt where you went back to unfastening it.

Steve couldn't stop the laughter that bubbled up at the sound of your dark glee and the feel of your hands teasing the erection behind his zipper. He lifted his head just enough to look into your face, the warm affection in his so pretty it made your throat ache. Your eyes fluttered closed as his lips brushed over your cheeks, but your hands went back to work on getting into his pants. He started chuckling, but that quickly turned into a low moan when your hands slipped under the waistband of his underwear to push them down. "I don’t just like you, doll."

“Good.” You replied with a nip at his lower lip as you closed your hand around an impressive erection. “Because I’m just crazy about you.”

Your smile as you caressed him was like nothing he’d ever seen before. Starting bright and happy, Steve was awestruck by the way your whole face seemed to shine with joy. In the next moment, your smile was melting into a look so hungry his cock hardened even more and his hips gave an involuntary thrust into your hands.

The sensation had you grinning recklessly as you twisted your hand around his length and made him groan. You lifted one hand to cup the nape of his neck to pull him forward for a kiss as his breathing sped in excitement. "Steven, I wore a skirt for a reason," you purred against his mouth and felt powerful as a goddess when his hands immediately left your hips to fumble at the long peasant skirt you'd worn. The feeling of his hips stuttering slightly as those hands closed around your thighs made you feel irresistibly sexy as well.

Being with Steve made you feel adored.

His mouth drank from yours with ever more urgency, even as he gripped your thighs more tightly and spread your legs to pull you closer. You encouraged him with murmurs of approval and gentle, teasing touches designed to inflame. His long fingers squeezed the flesh of your ass and legs as his body bent to yours, over yours. His thumbs caressing the insides of your thighs made you feel like you were going to fly apart and had your arm sliding around his neck to bring your body flush with his.

Steve tore his mouth from yours to gasp for breath. He buried his face in the crook where your shoulder met your neck and panted in excitement, in pleasure, the tremble of his lips against your skin sending shivers through you. "Babydoll," he whispered, the taste of you going to his head and muddling his mind, "I can't stop thinking about being inside you."

His thumbs had reached the apex of your legs and were brushing lightly over the soft skin he'd found there. His breathing was as ragged as yours, shuddering gasps of reaction mingled with moaning sighs of pleasure as the two of you touched one another. "Is this okay?" he asked gently, lifting his head to look into your face as one of his long, beautiful fingers slipped between your folds to tease at your entrance, to feel your wetness.

"God, yes," you moaned and made him smile. You were dazzled by the feel of him between your thighs, the sight of him flushed with his excitement and shuddering with need in your hands. When his thumb pressed you open and he circled your clit with the pad of his finger, your hips jerked forward in response, the sweet sensation of him gently caressing you so intimately overwhelming in its intensity.

Steve's hand slid down and he pressed into you with a soft groan of reverence, of hunger. You tilted your hips to allow him easier access, your head falling backward on your neck as you gasped with pleasure at the rasping sensation of one long, finger stretching you open. Your thighs tightened around his hips and your hand around his cock as you shuddered out a moan that made him crazy.

His mouth moved over your neck in desperate open-mouthed kisses as he reveled in the feeling of your wetness covering his hand. He loved feeling the proof of your desire for him. He loved that he'd brought you to this point, clutching at his shoulders and sobbing his name. He loved that you could so easily bring him to this point, panting with need and ready to beg. When your hand smoothed over his erection with a twisting motion and your lips at his ear whispered, "Play later, pretty. Inside me now," he could have promised you the moon.

He ever so slowly withdrew his hand from where he'd been pumping his finger slowly, gently in and out of your soaking pussy, dragging his fingertips over your clit as he went. The sensation was exquisite, prompting another gasping moan from you and making you fumble as you let go of his cock to bunch your skirt in your fist. You pulled it up and out of the way so you could see where you connected, wanted to watch him slide inside you. You wanted to imprint forever on your memory the image of Steve Rogers making love to you.

Tight t-shirt rucked up over a perfect stomach, belt and pants undone and pushed down below his ass with his underwear to reveal him flushed and shiny wet with anticipation. His hands, big and beautiful, gently held your thighs apart as his fingers pressed with just enough force into your muscles. The sight, along with that of his cock, hard as steel and pressing slowly into you, had your body clenching in need and your mouth running away with you as you rasped, "So pretty."

Steve flushed with the praise. As he eased into you, he marveled that his memory hadn't done you justice. He'd thought he remembered how good you felt wrapped around his cock, thought he'd remembered the ecstasy of the moment when he rested buried to the hilt, but he hadn't even been close. Once there, his hands left your thighs where they were wrapped around his hips. Skimming up over your waist, he took you gently in his arms, one palm on your lower back, one between your shoulder blades. Gasping for breath and grasping for control, he rested his forehead against yours and shuddered with restrained greed.

You wrapped your arms around the barrel of his chest and nuzzled under the collar of his t-shirt to brush your mouth across his perfect collarbones. Murmuring words intended to incite, you breathed adoration into his skin. "Sweet pretty Steve." You tilted your head back to look into his face. "You feel so good."  

The sight of your face, warm and soft with passion as you almost whimpered the words took Steve's breath away. Unable to help himself, his head dipped to kiss you as his arms tightened, his hands grasping you close as he started to tentatively thrust into you. You kissed him back, your hands avid as they clutched at his back and hips to encourage him to move faster, thrust harder.

You loved that Steve was as close to out of control as you'd ever seen him, loved that he was lost in you enough to move instinctively. He was still following your lead, but he wasn't thinking anymore, was letting his body rule. His hand slid down to close around your thigh to hike it higher, using the leverage to pull you onto him more forcefully. A happy squeal muffled by his mouth expressed your approval, as did the arms you wrapped around his neck to pull yourself more tightly against him.

Though Steve would have at least tried to go slow, you weren’t having it. You’d twined around him like a vine and were using your grip to rock your hips to his in abandon. The uncomplicated affection on your lips and the desperate need in your sighs of pleasure came together on his tongue to seep into his mind and send him reeling. Unable to stop himself, he gripped your thighs and ass to tilt you to the perfect angle for his relentlessly pounding hips and gave in. Groaning in his throat, he let your genuine passion wipe his mind clean of everything but you.

Steve's fingers were digging into your flesh with just enough pressure to feel delicious. His mouth was avid on yours and so sweet you had to tear yourself away to drag in a breath. You released that breath on a shuddering moan when he immediately buried his face in your throat to taste the skin over your pulse under your jaw. Your hands clenched in his hair and you rocked your hips harder and faster into his, chasing your climax. Steve was a perfect fit; you were fully enthralled with the sensation of his cock gliding into you, rasping out.

"Yes, yes, yes, yes," you chanted, each more frantic than the last, as the rhythmic slam of his hips against yours built you swiftly and steadily to peak. Hearing that you were nearing your climax, Steve lifted his head from where it was buried in your cleavage and pressing open mouthed kisses to the curves of your breasts. He loved to watch your expression while you came, loved to see you taken over by rapture, especially of his making. When you shuddered out, "Fuck me, baby," he knew you were close.

Steve's grin flashed and he started to thrust harder and faster into you, shaking your desk enough to knock a few things to the floor. The sound of soft thumps as a stapler fell to the carpet and pens scattered made you laugh. The thought that it was Steve Rogers you were fucking on your desk in the middle of the day met the joy of the moment and pushed you happily to the edge where need met satisfaction.

Pretty, sweet, reckless Steve with his bashful smiles and sad soldier’s eyes was building you to peak with ever more force and speed, about to send you tipping over that edge with flashing hips and a whimpering moan. You tilted your head forward on your neck to look into Steve's smiling, blushing face, his flashing eyes. With a sighed, "Pretty," you smiled as you let go and fell into rapture.

At the same time you spoke, Steve could feel the beginning of your orgasm fluttering and squeezing around him. His hands tightened around your thigh, your ass as he shook with pleasure at the sensation. The feel of you in his arms, clutching at him in ecstasy pushed him to the edge of his control. The sight of your eyes, glowing with pleasure both given and received, sent him tumbling over.

The beautiful groan Steve released as his head dropped to your shoulder made you tighten around him in every way. You gave in happily to the overwhelming urge to hold him close as he came inside you with stuttering hips and shaking limbs. Twining around him, you basked in the scent, the taste, the feel of him as you dragged him into the same spell that held you.

Everything about you softened like wax when he turned his face into your neck and nuzzled in with a sigh of contentment. He was holding you against him with that astonishing tenderness he possessed, cradling you in his arms like you were something infinitely delicate, infinitely precious. The sensation never failed to turn you to mush.

You combed your fingers through his hair and rubbed your cheek against his temple, holding him with the same tenderness he showed you, something he found utterly beguiling. He brushed his mouth over the soft skin of your throat and murmured in appreciation, "How do you do this to me?"

You couldn't help but love how that question had changed over time. At first, he had asked with concern vying with bafflement, but he'd come to ask with warmth, humor, affection. The answer had changed, too, from curiosity to pleasure to something more, something neither of you knew how to name. Not yet.

"I ask nicely," you replied with a smirk.

Steve burst out laughing and lifted his head to grin at you. You had a look on your face of such infinite tenderness, such warm wonder that his heart jumped and jumped in response to an emotion he wasn't sure how to describe, or if he was ready yet to do so. He pushed it aside, gloriously and willingly lost in you. "That would do it," he admitted with his heart in his eyes.

"In that case," you leaned forward to kiss first one side of his mouth, "would you like to come over for dinner," then the other, "stay the night?" Your eyelids dipped with a hint of shyness and made Steve's romantic heart yearn, inspired that still nameless emotion. "I really liked waking up next to you."

His eyes lit up in a way you'd never seen before; his smile was bright and joyous and made you want to promise him the world. Warm and affectionate, his expression held everything you could want as he replied, his voice low and full of fun. "Yes, ma'am."

Permanent taglist:

@hellzzzbelle @cheekygeek05 @lbouvet @diinofayce @bibliophile1773 @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @miraclesoflove @nerdy-bookworm-1998 @destiel-is--endgame @irritated-bisexual @peaceinourtime82 @badassbaker​ @walkingtravesty97​ @fashionworld12​ @readermia​ @patzammit​ @bucky-the-thigh-slayer​

[razorblade180]

OC test: Flex

[Not in the literal term. All the boys here will simply show off their style and charm in an attempt to steal some hearts and blush some faces.]

Kovu:So in other words...

Sparrow:Eye candy. Crank up that testosterone the best way you know.

Jael:A bunch of shirtless guys sounds boring.

Eliza:You heard the woman. Be bold and unbuckle those pants!

Jael:No! Not at all what I meant!

Jacquelyn: *turning away* (Probably for the best if I don’t witness this.)

Carmine and Valerie:....

Yujin:*red* Doesn’t this seem shameful?

Summer and Veronica:Shhhhhh

Veronica:Oh yeah, should we get the guy out of tree then?

Carmine:What guy?

Veronica:The guy I smell in the tree. He’s been there awhile. He has the scent of a bird.

An eerie silence falls amongst the group. Carmine slowly turns towards the tree, shooting a death glare. She takes a massive lunge towards it. Aero immediately emerged from the top, flying out of reach from Carmine’s very lethal hands.

Carmine:Who told you that you can be here, huh Aero!?

Aero:Oh quit with the theatrics. I know you’re happy to see me.

Carmine:Say that within arms reach!

Aero:No...

Nick:Who that?

Summer:And what’s his number?

Kovu:That would be Aero. He probably snuck in when I was let inside. His semblance has a way of catching people off gaurd, making it easy to pull a fast one on them. Hi Aero.

Aero:Hey goodie goodie. Mind doing some good and pulling the thorns off of this rose.

Kovu:Carmine, he’s not gonna leave. Might as well suck it up and let him be.

Carmine:I’ll let him be injured and begging for mercy. That’s what I’ll let him be.

Yujin:Wasn’t there supposed to be a test going on?

Eliza:Well one guy has already started.

Yujin:What? Who-oh my goodness! Tenzen! *red*

The street performer had removed his shirt when nobody was looking, then out on an opened hoodie. Tenzen’s abs were on full display with his broad, strong chest. His pants were replaced with shorts that showed off his toned calves. He put up the fox ear hood and casually drunk a water bottle. As usual, Tenzen looked playful, yet overwhelming attractive. It didn’t help that his shorts hung a little lower than they should’ve.

Tenzen:What?! Too stupid?

Eliza:The only stupid thing here is how your body looks like a mannequin. I know dancing makes you fit but sheesh.

Tenzen:It’s the martial arts.

Veronica:Nice.

Sparrow:Oh we’re starting? I guess I can show a bit of skin. After all, a sailor isn’t a sailor if he isn’t drenched and showing off.

Under these rules, Sparrow felt a little bad for the others. He was the guy here that could be considered truly grown. That maturity came with knowledge in many things. Charm was one of them. His hands pulled off his shirt fluidly. A stroke of his hand running through his hair not only showed off his trained body, it flexed his biceps. Unlike Tenzen, Sparrow had a body that was bulked up. Muscles were beefed up and made to form a temple that was hard as stone. His diabolical brown scruff and brown tanned skin gave Sparrow a rugged look that Jacquelyn sneak a peak and Eliza gulp the moment his other hand casually hung from his right pocket. Even Carmine was surprised by the older man.

Carmine:Wow, a shirt hid all that? You bench logs or something?

Sparrow:The military doesn’t train weaklings you know?

Eliza:(Eight years. Just give about eight years Sparrow.)

Kovu:My, my, that looks fun. But not as fun as that white haired cutie.

Summer:M-Me!?

Kovu:*flies down* I know a face like that anywhere. Who would’ve thought a Schnee would have such kind eyes? Not an icy glare at all. *rubs her face* You got a name?

Summer:I, uhh, yeah! I mean who doesn’t. Hehe wow you’re really umm close. Wait, my name! You’re probably still waiting for-

Nick:It’s Summer; and if you’re looking for the Schnee icy glare then look my way.

The chill of a glare sharper than any sword pierced right through Aero as he saw the white haired boy. Yeah, he’s definitely a Schnee. He respectfully stopped touching Summer and stood before Nick.

Aero:Cold, dagger like glare, white hair, and short. Yeah, you’re Weiss’s kid alright. How cute...

Nick:Call me short again and I’ll cut you down.

Carmine:As much as I would love to see that, Aero might be a little much for ya unprepared. Case in point, he’s not in front of you.

Nick raised an eyebrow and blinked. In that moment, Aero was gone. The boy was standing by Eliza, pinching her cheeks.

Eliza:Ow! How did you-

Aero:You’re a familiar looking face. Between your hair color and skin tone I almost thought Mona was here. I bet-

Carmine:No.

Aero:Well that’s the end of that I guess.

Eliza:Stop pinching me!!!!

Sienna:He’s a bit of a weird one.

Jael:The word is rude. He’s giving me a headache. Not to mention dragging out this test.

Aero:Hmm? What, the sexy thing. I thought that was over. I mean I’m here and everything. Y’all fighting for second place?

Sparrow:Hmph.

Veronica:That’s confidence you don’t see regularly.

Valerie:Call it like it is. He just shit talked every guy here into bringing their A-game.

Kovu:Oh Aero, you dummy. If you wanted me to play with you so badly then you just had to ask nicely...

The air in the room quickly changed. The two boys faced each other and smirked playfully. Kovu dragged his sharp finger nail down his shirt, tearing it. Aero laughed and proceeded to remove his own. Apparently this was a normal thing between the two. The tall boys got closer until Kovu was able to push Aero gently against a wall, wings spread out. Kovu was taller by an inch and buffer. His torso was well defined along with his chest, but the main focus was his arms on each side of Aero. Not only were they big, but each muscle group was blatantly visible. The boys eager eyes were focused in on his cocky younger friend.

Aero casually propped up his foot on the wall and put his hands in his pockets. Aero was no where near as bulky as the beast before him, but he cut to perfection in more ways then one. Faded scar ran across is toned body. The small black gages and wind swept hair only elevated his attitude. Everyone but Carmine were confused about what they were watching.

Valerie:Ummm are they about to make out?

Eliza:*red* I don’t know....but I want to.

Veronica:I think they might do more than make out.

Summer:(I’d pay to be in the middle of this beef sandwich.)

Yujin:Carmine, please explain.

Carmine:Nothing to explain. This happens sometimes. I don’t know why.

Tenzen:KISS!!!

Aero:They’re totally looking more at me than you.

Kovu:Bitch you wish you were this sexy. Don’t let those little girls in Vacou hype you up too much. They’re easy.

Aero:Don’t talk about your cousin like that.

Carmine:....

Everyone:....

Carmine:.....

Sienna:Y’all fu-

Carmine:YES, MOVING ON NOW. Lucas, take off your pants or something!

Lucas:Nobody wants that.

Sienna and Summer:Well...

Lucas:I am not taking my pants off.

Jael:Wet t-shirt. Then we can put everything behind us.

Jacquelyn:You can try and enjoy this a little sweetie.

Jael:Make this a women challenge and I’d be-... wait, I’d have to participate in that. God this sucks.

Lucas.Tenzen, pass me a water bottle.

Eager to please, Tenzen tosses two. Lucas caught both midair and poured them right onto his face; his white tank becoming completely drenched in the process. The fabric clung to his body, pressing against every crease, every conceivable worked out muscle. The others looked amazing, but Lucs might as well be photoshopped. Was fat even on his body! His back looked strong and legs even more so. Lucas’s hair stuck to his face and he let out a agitated groan. Despite that, it actually made him more appealing to Eliza. Others were admittedly distracted by his body to even notice his face. A xylophone could be played on a body like that.

Tenzen:Damn, I thought I was in shape before today.

Carmine:Aren’t you a shit in?

Lucas:I can still work out, and no. I just don’t deal with people or feel bad about staying in indefinitely.

Jael:A shut in!

Jacquelyn:That’s like...the definition.

Aero:Eh, not bad I guess.

Lucas:Little boy, I can snap you like a twig. Don’t get snippy with me.

Aero:Oooo feisty. Well if we’re done here-

Yujin:Hold on. Nick hasn’t gone yet.

Nick:Can you shut up!!!!

Yujin:Oh, hehe, my bad. I thought you’d be excited?

Nick:Why? I mean...sigh what’s the point? Not in the mood to embarrass myself.

Kovu:What?

Aero:Yeah that’s a smart move. I mean look at him compared to the rest of us. It’s like night and day in here.

Carmine:Aero!

Nick:He’s right. No real muscles, strong features, facial hair, scars, height... just a shrimpy sixteen year old with cash. *Smiles* Honestly I never really seen much good about m-

Valerie:Oh give me break. Do you really think any guy could hold a candle to you!? You’re caring, quirky, driven, and humble to a fault. Nick you’re so-

Nick:*wide eyed*....

Valerie:*red*Ummm y-you get the point. So don’t even think about discrediting yourself.

Nick:I uhhh appreciate the compliments, but those traits are exactly a flex or considered sexy.

Veronica:Lies!!! What’s sexier than a caring young man!

Nick:Abs.

Eliza:Oh for the love of-you’re all ridiculous.

She marches over to Nick and grabs him by the collar. Her hand rises to slick his hair back to clearly show of his beautifully tired eyes and gentle face, unmarked by anything but except self inflicted stress. It’s a shame he wasn’t feeling competitive. He may not know it, but that always captured a room. Eliza took off his vest and unbuttoned the top two buttons of his dress shirt. The crowd was left stunned by the simple transformation. He looked more regal than usual, yet casual.

Eliza:Sexy doesn’t mean naked dummy. And as far as physical traits go...*red* there’s a reason all the girls flock to you. You’re...annoyingly handsome. Some might even say pretty.

Nick:*blushes*

Eliza:And then you do that! Can we agree Nick wins and move on!?

Everyone:Yeah.

Aero:I guess I’ll take second.

Lucas:You mean third.

Kovu:He actually meant fourth.

Aero:Rude.

Carmine:Good.

[inventors-fair]

“Two Mechanics” Commentary: It All Comes Together

Well, this was a surprisingly popular contest. I know there was a fair bit of hype for it, but we got enough entries that I had to worry about shutting people out. That’s unusual to say the least, but quite pleasing to know that so many people are engaging.

I’m going to take a lesson and look at these from the lens of intention rather than explicit nit-pickiness. There will be a “nitpicks” part at the end, but that’s just for minor improvements if need be. I make small mistakes like that all the time, and if you wanna ignore that and focus on the commentary, feel free to do so. However, the nitpicks are reflections of polish. The extent to which something has nitpicks does affect judgement. 

Additionally! If you’re reading this, we’d like to know: do you read your own commentary, all the commentary, or do you skip it entirely? And if you’re skipping some or all of the commentary, what would help you engage with it? I would like to point out that reading the comments on everyone’s cards can potentially help with your own experimentation in the future and help with design choices. However, if that’s not what you’re after, we would like to know how to improve that experience.

Some cards are marked as “JUDGE PICKS,” which are cards that were close to being runners-up or winners but, for lack of space, are presented here as examples instead.

Let’s get to your wonderful blends.

@abzanhero — Herald of the Saviors (JUDGE PICK)

What I like: I really never expected to see Imprint and Fateful Hour on the same card together. I like how this is a strange, fragile tutor that can really improve the late-game if you adjust it just right, but in a build like Solemnity/Unlife Combo, this can be an insane win-con.

What we can improve: There’s not much to improve upon here. My two main issues are that 1) there’s an expectation that Fateful Hour cards have a smaller effect that’s improved by the hour (Gather the Townsfolk) although that’s not a requirement, I suppose, and 2) Imprint could have just been a search/exile clause, and there’s no real need for it to have that specific keyword. That said, there’s no reason that it couldn’t have it; it’s just minor flavor questions.

Nitpicks: “Fateful Hour” should be italicized. Mechanically, you need to point out that there needs to be “tokens that are a copy of a creature card exiled with Herald of the Saviors,” as the ETB trigger can be copied.

@aethernalstars — Collective Knowledge

What I like: Blue toolbox is a pretty fun archetype, and I do like that last option the best of all. It’s a pretty crazy mill strategy that can work really well with wheel effects. Spiral/Crypt builds could use this card for sure.

What we can improve: Without reminder text, anyone looking at this card without extensive rules knowledge would be absolutely lost. I get the vibe you were going for, but this card begs for reminder text. At uncommon, there’s no excuse for this many options without it. I understand that you might have been extremely cluttered for space with reminder text. In that case, that should have been a clue to go back to the drawing board. Flavorfully, I’m also getting major clashes between the two mechanics you’re using. Escalate is a vibrant, exciting feel of increasing public power. Cipher is a covert and subtle mechanic antithetical to Escalate’s vibrancy. I don’t understand what feel this card was going for at all.

Nitpicks: See notes about reminder text.

@askkrenko — Mocking Goblins

What I like: Goblin Diplomats comes to mind here. I can imagine that on the table in a 4-5 person commander game, this could get amazing in the late-game. Putting Overload on a permanent is actually pretty interesting, and I’m fairly certain that that actually works, right? I can’t think of a reason why it wouldn’t. Because of the multiplayer aspect I imagine that if this was drafted it would be in a Conspiracy-type set... Wow, yeah, this would be a fun limited card.

What we can improve: There’s not too much to improve here mechanically. I will say that the name and flavor text aren’t grabbing me at all. It’s been done before in similar ways, and heck, that’s fine for tropes. Just could have used some more spice.

Nitpicks: Definitely needed reminder text here, once again, as most non-evergreen mechanics do.

@bluebread-mage — Vorel, Rejected Strategist

What I like: I actually didn’t know Vorel’s full story, so I appreciate you adding that in there. It gives an interesting explanation of the mechanics you chose to use, and this is a slightly different version of +1/+1 counter interaction that I’ve seen around for contests like this, so kudos for that.

What we can improve: I won’t go ahead and say that this card straight up doesn’t work, but the hoops you have to jump through to make it actually do anything are difficult to say the least. So, you have Riot, and he gets a counter, and all your creatures gain evolve. Do you play a creature after that? Probably not if this is turn three. But then next turn... How do you get a counter on Vorel now? And if you do, without the means of a specific continuous counter generation like Forced Adaptation, you’d need to cast a spell to give him a counter, which means that you’re probably spending mana, which means you have less mana for a big creature, which means that the creature you DO cast probably won’t trigger evolve, and — do you see where I’m going with this? He’s asking for too many resources to make the effect worthwhile. I love the flavor idea. I love what you tried to do. It’s just not practical in gameplay terms.

Nitpicks: Your “evolve” reminder text should have been reworded to show what it would do for every creature; as it is, it would only do Vorel, which isn’t what your rules text says.

@col-seaker-of-the-memiest-legion — Diabolic Seer

What I like: So, I was reading the text, and then I got to the last line, and I was really pleasantly surprised that you brought the exploit back around to add the flash clause. Pretty great name, too, if a little meta; if the cards you were riffing off didn’t exist already, it would be radical.

What we can improve: In short, this card is balanced, assuming that:

You’re not playing any sacrifice strategies in the two colors with the most sacrifice strategies.

You don’t have any other creatures to search up a recursive win condition.

In constructed, you’re not playing fetchlands.

You’re not searching up further answers after already searching up recursion.

...and that’s my main issue with this card. Repeatable tutoring is absolutely bonkers good in literally any format whatsoever. Four-mana repeatable tutoring is, to say the least, broken. And you’re potentionally giving it flash? That is, IMO, a break. Small personal notes: I don’t know why this card doesn’t have a subtype; and the flavor text is vague. I don’t understand the character’s goals, role, or place in the world.

Nitpicks: “...put it into your hand, then shuffle your library. Until your next turn, if a creature was exploited this turn, you may cast that card as though it had flash.” Additionally, I understand the artist is Nataša Ilinčić, but I had to go on a Google expedition for that. Anglicizing to “Natasa Ilincic” may have been a better choice.

For those interested, the artist is actually fantastic. Check ‘em out HERE.

@corporalotherbear — Underworld Escapist

What I like: “Spirit Rogue” is an interesting combo that I like. Gives some neat little feeling of why it’s an escapist, or at least it’s a complimentary type. I also enjoy the idea of the escape being an adventure flavorfully.

What we can improve: ...does this card work? SHOULD it work? So it goes on an adventure, you cast it normally, it dies, you cast it from your graveyard on an adventure, rinse and repeat. Okay, that’s probably what you were going for. In that case, my goodness, this needs to be rare. Nigh-infinite recursion that can make bodies is probably too powerful. Personally as well, I understand the Amass and the flavor text, but what does a rogue making an army have anything to do with escaping? And why would it be an escape if you can cast it from your hand first? I’m really iffy on the eventual flavor of it all.

Nitpicks: None, as I understand the comprehensive rules would need to either be rewritten or re-explored for the second side to work. Hm, but wouldn’t it be cool if it was “You may send ~ on an adventure from your graveyard.” But, again, that’s more of a hypothetical question than even a nitpick.

@dabudder — Davriel, Pact Breaker

What I like: Bringing back characters for further exploration is always fun. We got a couple cool folks from WAR, certainly, and it’s always a pleasant surprise.

What we can improve: I just straight up don’t like the gimmick at all. Planeswalkers shouldn’t even have gimmicks, IMO. The first ability is fine, I would respect that if the rest of the card was completely changed. Fateseal is an unfun mechanic that, on this card, you can activate easily. I don’t have much to say about this card because of how it’s based in unfun gimmicks. I read through the wiki to get an idea of what Davriel’s like, and while I do appreciate how you tried to capture a lot of complexity in a single card, this isn’t it. I feel you’re trying to tell a massive story in a way that it doesn’t need to be told.

Nitpicks: Make sure you change your rarity, which I will assume was a mistake.

@deafeningsandwichpeach — Tempting Angel

What I like: Well, this card is weird. And I need to clarify, this is in the “What I like” section because I do like weird. It’s not broken, which is fine. Wow, though, the... Exile then Show and Tell and all? On a 9/9 flier? This card would destroy some games, and I could see it being a cube all-star and a crazy commander blink monstrosity. Once this hits the board, it needs to be removed IMMEDIATELY. Oh, and then... Containment Priest nonsense. Man, this could be a wacky card.

What we can improve: I will say, that a 9/9 body may be way too big. A six-mana 6/6 may have been more appropriate, and more balanced. In the late-game, if your opponent doesn’t have great draws, they’d probably be out of a card to put onto the battlefield. I have the feeling this couldn’t be a draftable card for that reason alone... Eh, maybe I’m just paranoid.

Nitpicks: Flying and Convoke need to be separated by a comma, not a semicolon. I think the same can be said for “permanent” and “then” in the second line.

@dimestoretajic — Gruul Rampager

What I like: That flavor text is friggin’ phenomenal, man. It’s a Gruul feel, it’s an orc feel, it’s a berserker feel. You captured an uncommon feel as well, too. I like how it’s a little more red than green, even though the two are definitely in good alignment with each other.

What we can improve: +1/+1 counters and -1/-1 counters should not go on the same card. Full stop. I know it’s mechanically cute, and I’ll be honest, I like how they work on this card. But it’s one of those Magic rules to avoid confusion and to stop weird triggers. The game can handle it, but it’s not fun to figure out. There’s acceptable weirdness and then there’s just inherent guidelines.

Nitpicks: Why does this card have a color indicator? Also, you misspelled “Berserker” in the typeline.

@evscfa1 — Burning Trails (JUDGE PICK)

What I like: This is a very difficult card to judge. Searching up two lands is powerful, but there are more efficient ways to do it eternally, so this card itself isn’t broken. Jund Lands and Gruul Ramp love it absolutely. I’m thinking of this in commander because, well, there’s no other reason for a rare ramp spell like this. I’d hate to open this in draft...or would I? Slightly different/better/multicolored Cultivate isn’t the worst thing in the world, possibly. This card is making me think. The versatility is pretty interesting as well, and I can see where land-matters cards would like it.

What we can improve: I’m really torn on whether or not this card needs both kinds of recursion, because as interesting as it is, my gut really isn’t understanding why they both NEED to be there. Is there an interaction I’m not seeing? I don’t think so, I think it’s just different recursion, and yeah, there’s lands-in-hand-for-retrace, plus the sacrifice to filter, but that’s just efficiency, not necessarily synergy. Honestly, this could also be an uncommon for that cost, I think. It would be a powerful-as-all-getout uncommon, but it just doesn’t feel rare to me in terms of crazy power level.

Nitpicks: None.

@forteleijon — Cordeceyp Crawler

What I like: Well, besides your lovely photograph, I think that the mechanics you chose work well flavorfully. A mutating fungus that can crawl out of the grave is pretty cool!

What we can improve: Firstly, if you can, I would highly recommend downloading Magic Set Editor for complex cards like this. Secondly, did you forget the escape cost about exiling cards from your graveyard? Otherwise, you can just cast this from your graveyard every turn without restrictions like Gravecrawler. I mean, this card isn’t Hogaak, but still. That probably wasn’t your intention, but once again, we come to reminder text. Rare cards sometimes eschew reminder text in complex sets, but mechanics like Mutate demand reminder text through and through. 

Nitpicks: Since “escape” is a verb on almost every creature card that uses it, the last ability can say “You may have Cordeceyp Crawler escape mutated onto target creature you control” as opposed to a trigger. Additionally, is that a misspelling of “Cordeceyp?”

@fractured-infinity — Emmara, Voice of the Conclave

What I like: I’m sort of content with the fact that Emmara is everyone’s Selesnya favorite. In terms of this card, I think that you chose two good mechanics to represent her and her guild. PT checks out, mana cost checks out, wording all checks out.

What we can improve: ...but she doesn’t do anything by herself, and that feels a little frustrating to me as a rare card. There’s nothing inherently or objectively wrong with this design, and there are plenty of proliferate cards that just proliferate by themselves. I would much rather have had a rare card that did at least something to make those abilities better. What if she made a token upon entering or placed a counter or something? I dunno, I’m just iffy on her power on the board.

Nitpicks: The word “Populate” you put in the reminder text should be lowercase.

@gollumni — Danz, Ascenscion Assistant

What I like: “Demon Noble” is a great typeline. I can see how this would make politics very, very complicated. Do you want to build around having no cards in hand and perhaps using the graveyard as a resource? You can discourage people from attacking and make political blocks as well. This is a very political card!

What we can improve: I can’t think of any specific improvements to this card. I think that it’s one of those cards where you yourself don’t want to be the monarch, and that’s a complex idea that I don’t know will always work out well in a draft environment like this may be intender to supplement. After all, 99% of limited games are won through combat damage. Such is fate. I think for this particular contest, I’m a little saddened that Partner doesn’t really...do anything. This contest was supposed to be about two mechanics interacting, y’know? And Partner is a mechanic that doesn’t really interact with any other on-card mechanic in the same way that our winners did.

Nitpicks: “Ascension” is misspelled in the name.

@greensunzenith — Eversworn Tombguard

What I like: Hell yeah, this card is cool. A knight sent to protect a grave or graveyard? Well, it’s not mechanically tied to your graveyard, but maybe it’s a burial site! I see that Orzhov symbol in the background. Interesting, how they might be using new techniques to protect themselves on a new Ravnica. This is an amazing draft card with possible constructed potential. I’m a big fan.

What we can improve: Besides the eternalization being a Bolas mechanic, I feel that, unfortunately, this is one of those cards where the Afterlife mechanic would be better being a different one, or no mechanic at all. Of course, that’s not your fault, and this contest asked for it. If you’re saving this card for a cube or a custom set, I would replace Afterlife with just a death trigger. Maybe it would read better, if you want to keep Afterlife, as “Eversworn Tombguard has afterlife X, where X is its power.”

Nitpicks: None.

@haru-n-harkel — Wistar, Lab Rat

What I like: I was absolutely not expecting a multicolored adventure or even an off-colored adventure. This poor ratty is going off and learning about everything, and then they come back and distribute their knowledge. So strange! Adventures are interesting cards for sure. I’ll have to find the download for that, because I just scoured my MSE and I can’t seem to find it. And you know what, I was going to gripe about keyword counters technically not being a “””new mechanic””” but whatever, that’s a personal interpretation that doesn’t change the fact that this is a fine card.

What we can improve: Is this supposed to be on Eldraine? I don’t really understand why this card is black at all. What lab are they supposed to be in? I see “lab” and I think “Innistrad” but that’s bias... What does research have to do with returning a creature? Are scientists clerics? ARE they a scientist? The gist of what I’m getting at is that this card has a couple cool mechanical ideas but I have no idea what it’s really supposed to represent. I don’t get a sense of place or strong meaning from this card.

Nitpicks: It’s hard to tell the difference between abilities in the main body; another indentation might fix that, or it may just be too much text. And also... This is the pettiest, most useless nitpick I’ve ever given, but your set symbol in this specific frame is really hard to distinguish. I would futz around with it for a bit.

@hiygamer — Woven Repetition

What I like: I can see how you got clever with this one. The splice and the rebound make for some interesting combinations. The cost is probably appropriate, if a bit high. You’d want to make some really carefully calculated decisions, unless you’re just pitching lands, to give that big spell rebound.

What we can improve: Rebound absolutely needs reminder text. Someone opens this in a booster pack and it’s going to be a head-scratcher for sure. I’m glad that it works (Thanks, Cast Through Time!) because I almost thought that it didn’t, but man, a lot of players will be confused with this at common. That’s the major issue; was that a misclick or something? This is most definitely an uncommon or rare card for complexity alone. Personally, I think that it would be best to also only exile one card, and you know what, this really could be mono-blue. What’s the white in it?

Nitpicks: None.

@i-am-the-one-who-wololoes — Steam Blast

What I like: Yup, that is indeed someone getting blasted by steam. It’s a solid bounce card that feels both Izzet-y and could see play on any other world. It’s a powerful spell in the UR archetype that could see plenty of nice draft play. The consensus is that the replicate will indeed see the entwined-ness. Hm, will it see more than one mode? Complex ideas at play here!

What we can improve: I know you have a style to maintain, but modal spells are significantly improved by the bullet points, and this card is hard to parse. As a rare, while complex, it’s a lot of colors to invest in a removal spell. Fine for an archetype, but I suppose that’s the nature of replicate. I don’t know, this card just doesn’t grab me. Maybe it’s the name, maybe it’s the nature of rare removal. There’s nothing inherently ‘wrong’ with it, though.

Nitpicks: None.

@ignorantturtlegaming — Heartwarming Reunion

What I like: This is indeed a feel. You chose a good image and flavorful bond for this card. With a few tweaks, this could actually be a really powerful GW archetype card with some great draft implications and enchantment synergies.

What we can improve: There are a few things to work on with this card.

The name “Heartwarming Reunion” implies a moment that would best be represented on an instant/sorcery card. I’m thrown off by its continuous nature.

Soulbond doesn’t affect how a creature is cast. “Nontoken creatures you control have soulbond” and it would affect them like Rhythm of the Wild. 

What does bolstering have to do with being a reunion? A relationship I can see but there’s a massive flavor disconnect. Also, it should be “paired creatures” and not “creature pairs.”

I understand what the flavor text is trying to do, but it bunches up the text above it and also doesn’t say anything that the name hasn’t told us already.

In short, there a few great ideas but they’re stuck between a couple of stumbling blocks.

Nitpicks: The last ability should be shortened to “Paired creatures you control have lifelink and vigilance.”

@joecurryat — Forsaken Devotee

What I like: I remember seeing that art a little while back, the Eldrazified Vampire. I loved Innistrad’s art direction. Anywho, though. I think that indeed Monstrosity is a fine enough mechanic for the Eldrazi. 

What we can improve: See above comments about reminder text. The first thing that comes to mind is the fact that it’s a human cleric. Even excusing the vampiric origins of the art, why is it becoming monstrous? It feels like there’s a disconnect between what the card wants to be and what it is. Annihilator was certainly...a choice. If you play this on turn 5-6 and monstrosify it on turn 7, you get a 9/9 lifelink with annihilator. The desire for powerful cards is strong, but annihilator isn’t fun, was never fun, and needs a major overhaul to be fun again. This card just isn’t it. Additionally, and this is more polish, but what on earth is that flavor text trying to say? Who’s saying that? Who is them? If it’s that hard to parse, it’s even harder for it to add meaning to the card.

Nitpicks: “has,” not “gains.”

@kavinika — Undercity Thug

What I like: The Ravnican (I’m assuming) undercity is a fantastic place for all sorts of mercenaries. The name’s not going to win any awards, but it gets the job done in a cool and flavorful way. That’s a very strong exploit ability, and would almost be first-pickable in a lot of drafts. The extra potential removal makes this formidable.

What we can improve: See notes about reminder text. When looking at this contest, we were hoping that there would be instances where the two mechanics compliment each other. This is the second revolt/exploit combo of this contest, and I’m a little frustrated that they don’t have any meaningful interaction. Sure, they both involve potential permanents leaving the battlefield in different roundabout ways, but it’s not attacking on the same turn that it’s exploiting a creature. The distance just isn’t working.

I usually don’t comment on this, because I respect the fact that we’re not professional writers, but that flavor text needs serious revision. An active antagonistic oppressor is fine in a game about conflict. The language is... Well, it needs revision.

Nitpicks: None.

@koth-of-the-hammerpants — Ceaseless Soul-chief. (JUDGE PICK)

What I like: “Orc Spirit Warrior.” Hell. Yes. It’s a big smasher, a big finisher, an anthem, a warlord, and they’re so full of souls and anger that they’ll return even stronger than before. I want to draft this card, I want to build casually with this card, and I want to see a world in which this card can come back strong again and again. 

What we can improve: I can’t think of any significant improvements. I will say that it might have been better, unfortunately, if this card was not a spirit. I can make my personal justifications however I want and I may love it, but ghosts probably shouldn’t have other ghosts in them.

Nitpicks: “Chief” definitely needs to be capitalized.

@machine-elf-paladin — Legacy Forger (JUDGE PICK)

What I like: The name actually captured me. it’s a great warrior name for sure. Mentor and Renown are two +1/+1 counter mechanics that don’t necessarily have amazing synergy, but you made them work here. This is a powerful combat tool, great use of mentor in green, and makes combat complicated for your opponents. Really awesome use of just using keywords to get your point across! Simple and effective.

What we can improve: The flavor text could use some clarification. Reads a bit clunky.

Nitpicks: Are you using MSE M15 Mainframe? If not, I would recommend it so you can get the flavor bar in and space out the words more.

@misterstingyjack — Promenade Parade (JUDGE PICK)

What I like: You can be aggro in a pinch, or you can wait and go a little wider, and even pick up a better token in a pinch! This is a pretty cool card that makes fantastic use of Ascend to bring across a flavorful card. “If you have the city’s blessing, the city grows with citizens.” Like — that’s so awesome?? I loved how you made a really surprisingly happy card in the aftermath of an otherwise dark event. And heck, it’s not a bad card either.

What we can improve: The only real “issue” that’s not even an issue is the flavor text and the name/flavor combo. The flavor text itself is in “gets the job done” territory, which you know what, that’s fine, they don’t all have to be Hemmingway. But I would also assume a Parade would be, like, a bigger event, and you could get a lot of people there. Right? Am I going crazy? This is a serious reach, so don’t take this as a design critique per se. All polish and pedantry. You did good.

Nitpicks: None.

@morbidlyqueerious — Swarming Platoons

What I like: I had to read this a fair bit to really get what was going on here. This is actually really complex, and I like the implications of what’s going on! You can get a 4/4, a 2/2 and two 1/1s, or two 2/2s. Like, that’s a lot of options in two words and two numbers! I think that I actually like the mechanics of this card a lot more than I had upon originally considering it. That text would make for a really great sort of Modern Horizons-y card.

What we can improve: I’m really lost as to how you decided to place this card in the universe. Servos are artificially created inventions, sure, so...are they natural now? Is that how Kaladesh is evolving, per your flavor text? Why is it offering answers? I don’t really see the question. You’ve made it a construct, and yet calling it nature. And the name “Platoon” is a soldier-y thing, and doesn’t convey an insectile invention feel. In short, fantastic mechanics, flavor is all over the place and confusing.

Nitpicks: “Platoon” also doesn’t need to be pluralized. 

@naban-dean-of-irritation — Starforged Legion

What I like: That’s a badass name, so that’s a great start. I’m amazed that that second ability is only a single sentence that I actually can’t find any flaws with, so that’s impressive to say the least. I assume this is sort of Theros-based? “Starforged” seems to imply that, but you know what, even though I can’t place it, this card makes me want to learn more about the world. That’s a point in its favor.

What we can improve: I don’t think there’s much to improve aside from the fact that it’s narrow. Incredibly narrow. Unfathomably narrow. Seriously, getting this card to work at all is an absolute mess of mana. Many players would love it, and I mean, fifteen mana for thirty power across six creatures would be pretty cool! But god, the effort that would have to go into making this really work and live the dream... Maybe it’s okay, you know? It’ll never see any play outside of someone’s five-color kitchen sink mess-around-and-find-out deck, but... Shoot, y’know, maybe that’s how it’s supposed to be. Can’t call it a winner, but it’s a winner in my heart.

Nitpicks: None.

@nine-effing-hells — Arcanist of Ulamog.

What I like: I will definitely admit that I did not expect devoid to show up again. I also did not expect a processor wizard. You know, this card has some interesting multiplayer aspects. Your opponents also have flashback, but that flashback can be used for your own cards to copy, and... Heh. This is a cute idea with some technical interaction that I like a lot.

What we can improve: This card is also basically unplayable without dampers. Giving all cards flashback? Unless you have Leyline of the Void, Drannith Magistrate, etc, but in limited, that’s going to backfire like nobody’s business. And if your OPPONENT has either one of those cards, good lord... Yeah, this feels like a crazy bas time for you the controller. Sure you get a 4/4 for four out of it, but I don’t think that’s enough to combat the amount of crazy flashback you’ll be getting to oppose your plans. Could be fun in multiplayer though.

Nitpicks: That wording on the second ability seems correct. Someone smarter than me might find something wrong with it. Worth checking a rules guru.

@partlycloudy-partlyfuckoff — Pharika’s Forgotten

What I like: Using dredge was a bold, bold choice. Despite it being a broken mechanic, the fact is that in a vacuum this card could work really well. I think in limited there could be some fun graveyard shenanigans for eventually getting this card back or for using other resources from your graveyard. Honestly, this card is not top-tier, and it has to be that way, because otherwise whoo boy that would be a mess. No, it’s middle-of-the-road, pretty natural, pretty great, pretty synergistic, and not the worst it could have been for using a still-broken mechanic.

What we can improve: I don’t think there’s much that needs to be improved, even though this didn’t really grab me by the throat and make me build around it. I’ve never been one for reckless self-mill but I love mill as a strategy. Who am I kidding, this card’s probably fine. Would make for an INSANE cube uncommon.

Nitpicks: 1). “...mill three CARDS.” 2) Missing two closed parentheses. 3) Needs an emdash after Escape and no space between the dash and the mana cost. 4) “Exile” should be capitalized. And the fifth you already knew about, so don’t worry too much.

@rasputin-gold — Resonant Call

What I like: This card caused a lot of potential discussion in the chat. The ruling is something completely unusual and would have to have a lot of crazy stuff following it in the comprehensive rules. In general, the consensus was that it worked, and it would have a lot of statistics around it that people would talk about. Interesting cost, interesting wording, and the name is actually kind of weirdly nice.

What we can improve: And this card is unfathomably broken. If you have four copies of a card you haven’t drawn, and you’re going first, and you put a single counter on Resonant Call to name something, assuming 51 cards left in your library, what is the probability that you hit the named card? ... I don’t know my math that well, but in limited, if you have a single card you haven’t drawn that you’d like to cast for free, you have a little over a 60% chance of hitting that card. For a common, this is insane and build-around-able for cheating out literally anything you want faster than most any other card. And that’s pretty busted. I don’t think this concept is salvageable. It’s just too risky. Also, see notes on reminder text. 

Nitpicks: Not a critique, but is that a flea in the art?

@real-aspen-hours — Seedsower Oke

What I like: This card is pretty delightful. They’re a druid, a tree, and they make little tree babies. What’s not to love? Convoke is a fantastic mechanic, EVOKE is a fantastic mechanic, and this card could be used for a variety of getting things on and off the battlefield. It’s a card I’d love to see in limited and I think for a very casual commander audience it could work well too. I don’t think that conceptually there’s much to improve upon with this card. It’s got a great feel and I like who they are.

What we can improve: I feel that you could really have made this a 4/4 or even a 4/5. It deserves better stats for a big tree boy! That’s all, just one degree more of pushing to really make him good.

Nitpicks: Evoke should always be the last ability on a card.

@reaperfromtheabyss — Zataz, Renegade Researcher

What I like: I’m going to assume that there are some three-color counter cards in this archetype that you’re envisioning? Or at least, three-color draft support. It’s pretty reminiscent of Master Biomancer, actually. That’s not a bad thing, because that card was great, and as a three-color legend that makes artifact dudes this card is pretty great too. I would have to see a lot of support to make him work in a draft, but 100% he would be an awesome counter-based commander.

What we can improve: There aren’t any major gripes with this card. He does feel...busy. Maybe it’s the frame, maybe it’s the nameline. But I’m seriously questioning “Vedalken Elf” Those are two majorly separate species that aren’t connected in any significant way, and maybe you’re going for a Simic kind of blend but honestly, it’s far more confusing than innovative.  

Nitpicks: Perhaps you could have just said “Zataz’s power” instead of the full name. Wouldn’t have made a huge difference, but.

@shakeszx — Recurring All

What I like: Two-mana 3/3s are a big risk. Aggressive greenery is pretty standard for the archetype and often shows up in competitive aggro builds, so I appreciate you channeling this. Cute name, too! 

What we can improve: I’ve already talked about +1/+1 and -1/-1 counters, and again, it’s cute how you’re making them work here, with the evolve and all, but they just don’t belong. Maybe it’s just me but I also don’t understand the flavor text at all. Do the Golgari have an ooze issue? I thought they liked oozes. Slime Molding says otherwise. Boros would have made sense, perhaps Azorius. Not Golgari.

Nitpicks: Use shift+enter to separate quotes and attribution in your flavor text on MSE.

@snugz — Roar of Revival

What I like: Confession: I never played Battlebond and don’t like team Magic at all. So, forget all that, let’s talk about it from the perspective of someone who DOES like that sort of stuff! This card is invaluable. A big win, pulling life out of your butt and going crazy. Big life gain isn’t my favorite thing either, but you managed to make it new and improved and flavorful and interesting and gave it camaraderie. 

What we can improve: I don’t really have any major improvements for this one. It’s everything that a lifegain spell can be. I think my only caution is that, well, this only really works in 2HG. You gotta target two players, and in commander, that other big multiplayer format, this card is useless. Actually, in basically any other format this card is useless. Unless you want to play Tainted Remedy combo. ... Hmmm...

Nitpicks: This card might read better as “Each of up to two target players gain X life.” Or, if you wanna keep 2HG stuff, “Two target players each gain X life.” Also, have you considered reinstalling to the newest MSE? You don’t have to, you just seem like someone who could really push that stuff to its full potential.

@somethingtothatextent — Expansive Growth.

What I like: It’s an interesting use of cost mechanics. Overload necessarily costs more, but Convoke helps it cost less. I like that balance! The method of making rare cards feel rare and making their effects seem awesome isn’t always easy to do. I think that you dipped into some nice territory here.

What we can improve: Firstly, the name doesn’t feel as expressively creative as it could be. Without even a little context, the complex/unique mechanics lose a bit of touch. Mechanics are more important though, and I think that the way you were forced to make this mechanic happen resulted in the wording being really clunky.

Now, I do have a potential solution: Imagine a card with: “Put a +1/+1 counter on target creature you control, then you may double the number of +1/+1 counters on target creature you control.” So the spell now can give a counter and potentially double another creature, OR you can go ham with it like your costs want to. Does that make sense? I want to play with this card for sure. It’s good! It’s straight up a good card! Just needs world placement and some wording adjustment.

Nitpicks: None.

@sorustyitshines — Phagus, Eater of Worlds

What I like: Mythic dragons are always a smash and a hit. The devouring of historical permanents combines with the flavor text in such a way that actually makes the flavor text kind of moot. Like, it’s eating history! That’s pretty great! Hardcasting this card will always make for some groans, but the reduction gives it an appropriately mythic status. I think that it’s really powerful as hell, but it’s not unbalanced, I don’t think.

What we can improve: Really, the only major improvement is the name and the mechanical link. “Eater of Worlds” has been done in a lot of IPs. It’s cute, but. Mechanically, I feel disconnected between the cost reduction and the devour. Both of them have an interesting flavor link, I’ll give you that. They just don’t have anything to do with each other, and you’re building effectively two different decks. The things you might sacrifice to Phagus aren’t going to help you cast it again, right?

Nitpicks: “Haste” should be lowercase. The ellipses in your flavor text should be a comma and the period after “all” could possibly be a colon. Or, tbh, this card would be fine without it. That’s a lot of text. Also, I’m curious as to why you need “historic permanents” (which should be “historic permanent CARDS”) instead of just regular historic cards. The card’s already hinted at the fact that it can eat concepts.

@starch255 — Frantic Recruiter

What I like: Replicate now can indeed work with casting permanent spells, so kudos for that. I just had to look up casting and copying and the comprehensive rules for how replicate and rebound work, and as far as I can tell, yeah, this works exactly how it should! I feel the kinda Boros vibe throughout this, and casting from exile with a bunch of tokens, well, yeah, that can be pretty gnarly. A bunch of 1/1s are interesting. What you’ve done is effectively made a RW Reclaim the Wastes that can be doubled. And... You know, I wanna build with it, so that’s cool. Rally the Peasants forreal.

What we can improve: See notes about reminder text. This card is super confusing without it. If you had printed the reminder text I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t have needed to look up all that other stuff, harrumph. (I probably would have anyway.) In all seriousness, all my notes about reminder text are here to express that complex ideas need space and you can’t ignore that it’s a necessity especially for ideas like this.

Nitpicks: *GAIN haste UNTIL END OF turn, not “have haste this turn.”

@thedirtside — Lunch Break

What I like: This was one of the most popular and loved cards in the mod channel, so take some kudos there. We loved it. “I’m gonna exert myself and get some food. Y’all can wait for me.” It’s pretty obviously silly, and that’s honestly great. I’ll be honest, silly cards like that outside silver-border rarely win contests, but they’re good for a laugh as long as they’re good.

What we can improve: The first iterations that you submitted, however, were a lot better in my opinion. There’s no reason for this card to be an instant, right? If you’re doing this during a declare attackers phase, that’s not going to change much from if you were to do it during your precombat main phase. Also, the wording really got messed up. I feel that you could have spent more time on flavor text as well. The card’s feeling is great up until then.

Nitpicks: So, a revised card would be a sorcert that reads. “Whenever a creature you control attacks this turn, you may exert it. If you do, it gets +1/+1 until end of turn and you create a Food token. (An exerted creature won’t untap during its controller’s next untap step.)”

@walker-of-the-yellow-path — Spellchaser Hound

What I like: Doggies! Yeah, I don’t even need to see the good boy to know I love him. Mutate feels fresh and funky, the counters are reminiscent of Ikoria without necessarily being set there, and there’s some potential for flavor in the dog fetching more prowess counters as things get crazy.

What we can improve: I really do appreciate the prowess counter reminder text. It might not say what prowess counters do, but that’s another issue. And the fact that you need that shows what we already kind of knew about prowess triggers: they’re complex as hell. Ability counters are...frankly, they’re awful for memory issues as is if you don’t have some kind of ability to remember them and they get equally weird with older cards that check and give permanent abilities... The point is, ability counters are weird as is, and prowess counters are pretty egregious. I don’t think this card is a mistake, but I think it’s really, REALLY complex in the world of Magic, and I would watch out. For what, exactly? ... Don’t worry about it. 

Nitpicks: If you don’t have a certain frame, you can ask the chat or ask for a mod who can do their best to make a render of cards like miracle/mutate/etc. The MSE Discord also has a tech support section.

@wolkemesser — Orca, Doom of Argenti

What I like: You managed to make me look up ancient Dominaria lore and yes indeed, Orca and Argenti are Magic people and words that make sense of it all. Gotta love that deep stuff! 

What we can improve: See above notes on reminder text. See above notes on +1/+1 and -1/-1 counters. But on this card, it’s especially egregious; she enters with haste, perhaps, she dies, then she returns with persist and a +1/+1 counter and starts all over again, and is basically unkillable because the counters will cancel each other out. Additionally, from what I could find, I don’t understand why she’s an Elemental when the story and her Oracle text mark her as a Demon. With flavor, I also don’t really understand the flavor text at all. She’s based on the real Orca, right? Any in-world flavor text would probably have been more appropriate.

Nitpicks: None beside the aforementioned ones.

I’m going to go hug my dog. Please keep questions and comments about commentary in mind, and if you’re reading this, be loved and be safe. Tomorrow enters a new dawn, a new time... Hm, time.....

—@abelzumi

[robotslenderman]

Omg, thank you so much for answering my questions so extensively! I didn't expect such a detailed answer but I really appreciate it! I wasn't sure which ghoul of Julian's you are referring to, but then I remembered Nadia. Oh man, poor Nadia, I feel so sorry for her. Just imagine working for Julian. o.O And I thought the Courier has it bad.. I think I was a little harsh on her when she demanded the data for something, but she probs must be under constant stress. Also 9, 10 for Julian, 13, 23

Haha I’m on Vyvanse again so I’m back to writing longass essays about my Opinions. I do not know how to keep shit short, at all, I have to include ALL THE DETAIL. :D Thank you for the wonderful questions, anon!

(Nadia puts up with so much shit, lol. I thought she was cool, altho Elisa took the “fuck this, just shoot her” option when they had the confrontation in the Viper. RIP Nadia, sorry you got dragged into this shit :( Also sorry we shot and murdered you but Elisa was like 900% Done at that point.)

Ask box game under the cut. I presume you mean VTMNR.

9. Most disliked character(s)? Why?

Ehhhhh I can’t think of any? I mean Olivecrona is a shitbag, but that’s a given. She’s not a “love to hate” character, she’s just a shitbag.

10. Most disliked arc? Why?

My least favourite part of the game is... hard to say. Either the biodome or Dallas. The biodome is a great arc to play the first time around, but in subsequent playthroughs it’s really tedious.

And Dallas is just boring.

So yeah, toss up between the longest arc and the shortest one, lol.

13. Unpopular opinion about XXX character?

I presume this is the one you meant for Julian --

Honestly, I don’t have one.

(Holy shit, stop the presses, I know, right?! Dusty not having an unpopular opinion about something?!)

But like, seriously, fandom is pretty unanimous that he’s a great character with valid points that Kindred society as a whole, especially the Camarilla, really need to acknowledge, but also a manipulative and sometimes diabolical little shit who almost certainly just wants to use you for his own ends. Like you wanna be his friend but you’d never give him your wifi password.

And for once in my fucking life I am totally with the majority on this one. Like, 100%, no reservations here, lmao.

23. Unpopular character you love?

I’m with the majority once again on all this. All my fave characters are everyone else’s faves.

Altho, I don’t love him but maybe Jasper? I’m intrigued by him and considering his death triggers the plot, I’m pretty disappointed that nothing... really came of it, like at all. Like there’s that bit with the biodome but that’s it.

And it’s not that he’s unpopular either, he just doesn’t get noticed.

[marveloussupernerd]

Halloween Bash - Jaehee Kang

Hello and welcome to spooky season! For the next week I’m going to post a Halloween one shot every night. I random number generated the post order, prompts, and other little details about it, so I’ll be including those at the beginning of the story

Prompts: RFA party, bobbing for apples, stay all night

Summary: the RFA is throwing a little Halloween bash for its members. You and Jaehee dress to impress

You and Jaehee had put a lot of thought and effort into the RFA Halloween party. Rika had done it once before in the past and you wanted to bring it back and hopefully make it a fun tradition. You planned to have a costume contest, bobbing for apples, and the Monster Mash on repeat.

Jaehee had left the costumes up to you. It took you a while to find good costumes (there were a zillion Hetero couples costumes but you really struggled to find something creative for the two of you), but when you saw it you knew it was perfect. Of course, you couldn’t both win the costume contest, but you definitely wanted to match.

You walked into the coffee shop where Jaehee was hanging a streamers, and plopped the costumes onto the table next to her. “Are those the Scooby Doo characters?” She asked, glancing down at the costumes then focusing her energy back to the task at hand.

“Velma and Daphne! Jaehee, don’t tell me you didn’t know their names,” you sighed, plopping onto the chair next to her.

“I actually did watch Scooby Doo as a kid, but it’s been a while,” she smiled. She stuck one more piece of tape then carefully got off the chair she was standing on to sit next to you. “I think it’ll be quite cute.”

“Oo! I also got this hairspray stuff for you that temporarily dyes it orange. It might be kind of unnatural but-“

“You want me to be Daphne?” She cut you off, her eyebrows raised skeptically.

“Duh! I think you’d look really nice as her. Why? Would you rather be Velma?” You glanced down at the costumes. Fortunately you two were nearly the same size.

“No, I just. I don’t know... I assumed you’d want me to be Velma. I did look a lot like her...”

“Yeah, because Jumin made you. You look so beautiful now and I want you to embrace those changes! Putting on a short wig and glasses would do the exact opposite.”

She leaned across the table to grab your hand. “Thank you. I don’t think you understand how much that means to me.

“Of course. Now if you’re done with the decorations can I help you do the hair?”

“I set one banner up...”

You looked around. Huh. She was right. “Whoops. Got so excited I didn’t even notice that. Let me help you set things up first then.”

The two of you were an excellent team, obviously, and made quick work of setting up the decorations. Jaehee had splurged on some nice decorations. Lots and lots of pumpkins and pumpkin banners (to go with your pumpkin treats you had made ahead of time) and even a very realistic cauldron for the bobbing for apples game. Granted, her decor was very mild and not scary, spare one thing she splurged on. She set up one of those spiders that jump out at you when you walked past it, then put it by the entry.

“Jaehee... I didn’t know you were so diabolical...” you chuckled, putting batteries in the machine to get it running.

“I just want to see Mr. H- I mean Jumin, jump. He has a fear of spiders you know.”

“I’ll be sure to get it on camera,” you winked at her.

The next step was getting all dressed up. You started with the hair dye, which blended surprisingly well with her now-long hair. It wasn’t too neon, but enough that you could tell she was now a redhead. You helped her with some winged eyeliner, as she had never done a wing herself, and some sparkly pink lipgloss. Once she was all dressed, you took a step back to admire your handiwork. “Jaehee, you look kinda hot,” you complimented, suddenly feeling extremely embarrassed.

Her cheeks shot red from the compliment as she worked hard to look anywhere but your eyes. “You don’t think it’s too much?”

“No, I think you look exactly like her. Now will you help me get this wig on?”

Turns out getting a wig on is a two, probably three honestly, person task. Especially with your baby hairs that kept falling out of place. Luckily, Jaehee helped you fix it until it was absolutely perfect. You got all dressed next. “What do you think?” You asked, doing a little spin.

“They really didn’t include the glasses with the costume?” She asked, turning the bag upside-down to ensure you hadn’t missed anything. “Huh. Well, luckily for us I think I still have my old pair.”

Jaehee disappeared to the back. You heard a lot of rustling through drawers before she came back victorious. “No prescription or anything, just regular frames.” She carefully put them on your face. “Perfect. Now you look the part.”

You opened your phone camera to check your outfit. “We look GOOD! Best couples costume ever.” You glanced at the time. “And just in time too. We’ve gotta get to the front so we can see everyone get scared by the spider.

Jumin and Yoosung arrived together, no surprise since Yoosung was still his acting assistant. Jumin jumped slightly at the spider, but it was nowhere close to Yoosung, who backed into Jumin so quickly that he knocked the both of them over. You and Jaehee couldn’t contain your laughter, not making any movement to help them up.

Luckily there were no injuries, as the two got up relatively fast and made their way over to you. “Oh Assistant K- I mean, Jaehee,” Jumin said to you, “Some days I miss you more than others. And this is definitely one of those days.” He obviously did and didn’t mean it at the same time; he was teasing Yoosung. But oh! More pressing matters at hand.

“I’m not Jaehee,” you giggled. Jumin’s mouth fell open in shock. Obviously you were right; your voices were quite different, but you really pulled a fast one on him.

“Forgive me. I just thought... well, what are you two anyways?”

“You don’t know? They’re from Scooby Doo!” Yoosung yelled, very surprised that Jumin didn’t recognize it.

“Scooby huh?”

“Scooby Doo! It’s a kids show. You’re... more hopeless than I thought,” he said sadly.

“You two look nice! Frankenstein and his monster. Very creative.” You complimented them.

The conversation was halted when Zen walked in the room, bumping into the glass door as he jumped away from the spider. You all laughed this time.

Zen was quickly followed by Seven and V, who were not shocked by the spider at all. Figures. Zen was a vampire, V was dressed as a pirate, and Seven was... oh god why was he in his maid costume.

“You all look nice!” Jaehee complimented. “Let me get some music on and then we’ll start everything up.”

“Jaehee, that’s you!?” Zen exclaimed. “You look great!”

“Thanks!” She called. The Monsrer Mash started playing. She made her way back to the group. “Although it wasn’t exactly my idea.”

“I am a genius, I know.” You commented, accepting your praise. Jaehee hit your shoulder playfully and you got the party started.

The activity of the night was bobbing for apples. Was this a good idea? Probably not. But it’d be fun. You got to man the station and time how long it took everyone to get their apples. Jumin took the longest... literally over three minutes because he didn’t want to hurt his teeth. Zen was the quickest, trying to make sure he beat Jumin, which was not challenging to do.

Jaehee finished her turn and got right in the middle of the times. Her lipgloss was smeared down her face. “You know, maybe this idea had a few flaws,” you giggled, grabbing a paper towel to help her dry her face off. You very gently patted her face dry, using your finger to gently wipe the lipgloss away. It was strangely intimate and the two of you were both flushing messes, despite the fact that you were literally dating. No makeup problems for you though! The only issue was that the glasses fell off in the water, traditional Velma style, and the game became bobbing for glasses.

Zen’s prize for winning was a caramel apple designed to look like a pumpkin. Pretty creative from you and Jaehee to be honest. He rubbed it in Jumin’s face nonstop, and you figured he would for the next year until the next contest.

When it came down to voting for the best costume, it was no surprise to read out the results. Everyone had voted for Jaehee. There was one vote for you of course, because Jaehee was a supportive girlfriend and would NEVER vote for herself. Even Seven didn’t vote for himself which was, honestly, quite a relief. You were proud that her costume was so good Seven considered it better than his “Mary Vanderwood III” getup, whatever that meant.

Jaehee’s very special prize was homemade chocolate and pretzel bark the two of you had made the other night. Honestly, you were glad she won because it was so good and she would share it with you.

The two of you stayed all night. You sort of had to, considering it was taking place at your coffee shop. But you had a great time dishing out (non alcoholic) drinks and pumpkin cookies and candy.

You played pin the stem on the pumpkin (which V actually won, which honestly should not surprise anyone) and spent most of the time hearing everyone complaining about the Monster Mash playing for the fiftieth time. It wasn’t your fault. There weren’t that many Halloween songs and this one was Jaehee’s absolute favorite.

Once everyone left, the two of you plopped down on the sofa in the corner of the shop. “I’m so tired,” Jaehee groaned, resting her head on your shoulder and propping her feet up. “You sure we can’t just sleep here tonight?”

You laughed, chest shaking as you giggled, causing Jaehee to shift slightly. “We still have to open tomorrow at 6. And as much fun as it sounds to stay the night here, I’m worried your hair will become permanently orange if we don’t wash it out.”

She let out an exhasperated sigh, standing up and taking your hands to help pull you up. “Okay, but only if you help me wash it out. I’m too tired, and I don’t think I’ll be able to get the back.”

You winked at her. “Sure, whatever you say, Jaehee.”

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #317

i’m tired as a motherfucker and don’t feel like thinking up some lyrics, so here, jus have the survey.

Have you volunteered in the past 6 months? No. French fries or onion rings? French fries. I don't like onion rings. Do you suffer from anxiety? Very badly. Favorite healthy snack? "Apples and peanut butter are one of them." <<<< Same, actually. Good shit. Favorite Disney movie? Forever and always The Lion King. If you see a bee in your house.. are you going to kill it? I hate to say it, but I'm killing it. Do you normally take a shower in the morning or at night? Morning. Do you have a cat? Yeah. What is your favorite animal? It will always be meerkats. Always. Do you know what time you were born? 10:30 AM, I believe. Do you like McDonalds? I'm gonna be real: I've never understood the McDonald's hate. I enjoy it perfectly fine. I mean it's certainly not gourmet, but I'll choose it over other fast food places sometimes. It's cheap and decent food, imo. What's your favorite flower? Orchids. Have you thought about joining the military? FUCK no. Who is the person that has impacted your life the most? Given my PTSD, I think it's pretty obviously Jason. Have you ever had a pet fish? Yeah, but not a lot. I never enjoyed them much. Have you ever wanted to be on a game show? Not seriously, no. I wouldn't want to be on television. Have you ever vaped? Nah. Who was the last person to give you a hug? Either my niece or nephew. Have you ever been on TV? I don't think so, no. What's your favorite store in the mall? Hot Topic, ugggghhhhh take me there. Has anyone ever told you that you have an accent? Yeah, especially when I was younger when I definitely did have a clear Southern accent. Do you have any piercings? Yeah, six. I have been DYING for a new one lately... How did your parents meet? Work. What was your first word? "Dada." Do you eat more healthy food or junk food? Somewhere in the middle, I'd say. What do you spend too much money on? When it's my own money, tattoos. I think I'll be perfectly capable of doing it, but when I'm employed, I'm going to have to watch how much I invest into those. What is a disturbing episode of an otherwise non-disturbing show? What is a disturbing show (or one you would describe as one) is enjoyable to you? Meeeh I don't watch enough for this. What is the most memorable song in a movie? How about a show? Oh wow, I dunno. "Circle of Life" from TLK is a beauty, as is "Strangers Like Me" from Tarzan. There really are a lot. As for shows, "Carry On My Wayward Son" from Supernatural will immediately get fans screaming the lyrics, haha. However, I don't know if that song properly counts since it wasn't written just for the show, but whatever. What is something you’re grateful for that humans have made/have continued to make exist? What about something that you wish that humans didn’t destroy? The Internet, whew. I wish humans would stop destroying the fucking environment. It's heartbreaking how many woods are wiped away here for construction, only to never be built on... While evil men are commonly talked about, what woman would you consider the most evil? I don't know, but it would probably be a rapist or pedophile. Those are probably the people I abhor most. Do you believe children can be evil? If so, what child from history do you believe to have been the most evil? I don't really think children are born evil, no. I've never heard of a diabolical baby or anything. I think the environment they are raised in molds them as they age. I don't know about the last question. Name one way that music can be bad for humans. It can be depressing sometimes, actually dragging your mood down, especially if you already feel low. What has been one of the most blatant advertising in a movie, show, or music video? Some of these questions are hard man, idfk lol. What book have you read/listened to that “messed you up” (or made you have a lot of negative feelings afterward)? Johnny Got His Gun left me feeling so spiteful towards and disappointed in the world. It definitely made me feel down for a while. If you have a pet, what is the best thing that you have for them (either a toy, a highly rated food, etc)? If you don’t have one but would like one, have you thought about what you would get your pet? We definitely don't have the money for "high quality" stuff. What works, works. Did you ever know anyone who was (previously) a part of a cult? What cult? Were you ever a part of one? No. What is something that is legal right now that really shouldn’t be? I'm stealing the previous person's answer by saying fireworks. They have a horrible effect on animals and PTSD victims and is just litter and a fire hazard. What is a movie you consider successful/good that did not have high reviews? I'm not educated enough on movie rankings. When you met the person you now like, what happened? We hugged and cried a bit lmao. Did you realize anything today? No. What do you want to do today? It'd be nice to get off my ass and get Emerson's birthday pictures into Lightroom so Ashley can finally have them... Can you honestly say you’d risk your life for someone else? I know with certainty I would for some people. Could you forgive a boyfriend or friend who physically hurt you? Ha, nope, byyyyeee~ What’s the cutest thing someone’s ever done for you? Ugh... So one night when I was lying down to go to bed but also texting Jason, I was being playful and joked for him to sing me to sleep. He sent me a video for "The Mortician's Daughter" by Black Veil Brides (one of his favorite bands) and just pasted the lyrics, and I thought it was the cutest fucking thing ever. I went to bed listening to it and just smiling. It's why I just don't listen to it anymore. I shouldn't have even talked about it, soooo next question. What are the top five places you wish you could go before you die? Ummm South Africa, Yellowstone National Park, Germany, Alaska, and the Bahamas, maybe. How many tattoos would you like to have? I'm gonna be a fuckin mural. I want tats pretty much everywhere. What question do you hate to answer? "What do you like to do for fun?" What's your favourite animated or cartoon program? Fullmetal Alchemist. What do you think the greatest invention has been? Electricity. What's your favourite movie quote? I dunno, I don't really have one. Do you prefer digital or analogue clocks? Analogue clocks are way more elegant and can be beautifully decorated. Who is your favorite foreign singer/musician? Do you translate his or her lyrics? If you exclude English-speaking foreign bands, like from the UK, Rammstein for sure. I can translate some of them. Say something in a foreign language? "Liebe" means "love" in German. What is a weather-type that you like that not many others do? Snow, for sure. I've never understood the "ew, snow" type of people. It's so pretty. Granted, it's rare here, so it's more of a treat down here, but still. Who do you know personally that has a nice singing voice? Sara has a beautiful voice. What was the last word you learned? I have no clue, given how bad my memory is becoming... It's hard for me to learn anything nowadays, because it doesn't stick. What is your favorite culture? (that you find most interesting): I'll be honest, I'm not very well-informed on foreign cultures. Due to taking so many classes though, I do find German culture to be quite appealing. They are very serious about honesty (for example, telling someone you're okay when you're not is frowned upon in small talk, even), as well as manners. I would love to experience their lifestyle. Have you ever watched anime porn? I've never watched porn to begin with. If you got paid $3 million to smoke meth one time would you do it? Nope. I'm not risking addiction or death. Are ladybugs cute? Yesssss. Will you leave the house without fragrance on? Yeah, I usually do. Do you make good money doing what you do? I'm unemployed. I've only ever worked minimum wage jobs. What is your favorite fruit? Strawberries, yum. And kiwi. What do you think of horses? I love them! Are you doing something with your life that matters? Ugh, I don't feel like it. Do you like gravy on your mashed potatoes? I hate gravy. What is the dirtiest rap song you have ever heard? Nicole played "WAP" once when I was in the car and I wanted to die. What about a dirty song in any other genre? "Bitches" by Hollywood Undead MIGHT be rap, but idk? What even is their genre???? But anyway, as much as I love the song, it's dirty as shit. What is a genre of music you simply can't stand? Rap, generally. What is, in your opinion, the best way of dealing with a break up? Lots and lots of self-care and focusing on loving yourself and realizing your worth lies in yourself and not another person. What flavor of Doritos do you like best? Cool Ranch, of course. Would you ever go to a comedy club? Yeah, sure. Why is it that photography is becoming a trend? Because it's art, and people enjoy art???????? What is the funniest movie you have ever seen? White Chicks gets me way harder than it should lmao. Would you ever consider dating someone who lived across the country? I guess, so long it was the plan that we'd eventually move in together, and effort was being made to achieve that once we got pretty serious. Do you have a tattoo? If you do, describe the pain you went through when getting it done. Well, I have six, so I'll just talk about my first one, which was on my wrist. It really isn't bad, especially once you've adjusted to the pain. I think the best metaphor would be that it's like lightly pinching a cat scratch. Outlining is the worst part, imo. What is your favorite bookstore? I don't have one. Who was the last person to tell you that you were cute? I have no idea. When was the last time you had a fever? How high did it go? Oh, I couldn't tell you. Those are very rare for me. How many times do you think that you’ve truly been in love before? With who? Twice, with Jason and Sara. Do you prefer French kissing, or regular kissing more, and why? I mean, this depends on the mood as well as how serious we are. Have you ever been married before? How many times? No. Who do you know that gives the best hugs? Summer has always been a big, strong hugger like I am. Have you ever dated someone of the same gender before? Yeah. Who do you consider to be your hero? My mom. Who is your best friend? Tell us about them. Sara. She's a very caring, strong, creative, just overall amazing person who stands firmly for what she feels is right, and we can't forget about her incredible loyalty, nor her absolute adoration for animals, reptiles especially. How much did your car cost? I don't have my own car. What is the last picture you received on your phone of? Sara sent me a photo of Martha, her ball python. Do you have any friends that actually model? No. Do you keep condoms in your room? No, considering I have no reason to. Do you follow any special diet? (dairy free, vegetarian, gluten free etc.) No, but I desperately want to return to being vegetarian. Vegan would be even better, but I know I'm absolutely not capable of that. What is an appliance you don’t have, but would love to have? uhhhhh Which keys on your keyboard are worn out the most? My "a," "s," and "d" from gaming. If you could be any supervillain, which would you be? Ha, I could probably pull off Harley Quinn pretty easily. Though "super"villain sounds a bit strong for her. What’s the most historic thing that has happened in your lifetime? Either Covid or 9/11, probably. What’s the scariest non-horror movie? I personally think the idea behind Johnny Got His Gun is fucking terrifying. What’s the most amazing true story you’ve heard? More beautiful than "amazing," but whatever. I can't think of anything else. Jason's mother actually left his father to go back home to New York when he cheated on her, but he followed her all the way there, and they wound up reconciling and were very happily married since. They were a spectacular couple, and I miss them a lot. What brand are you most loyal to? I have no idea. It's hard to be loyal to any when you're not the one buying products. Where are you not welcome anymore? Well, speaking of him, probably Jason's house, haha... I feel that if I just showed up there, his parents would honestly be super happy to see me and want to catch up, but Jason, not so much. I doubt Colleen would welcome me into her house, either. What’s the most recent show you’ve binge-watched? Avatar: The Last Airbender w/ Sara. What’s a common experience for many people that you’ve never experienced? Just... adult stuff. Paying bills. Having a stable job. Passing their driver's test. What are some misconceptions about your hobby? We'll use forum roleplay here, in which case I know a very common misconception is that it's sexual in nature and is a kink. It's never been that for me. It's about building unique, complex characters in a vast universe of your creativity, meshing with other's. It's a beautiful thing to me. What’s the dumbest thing someone has argued with you about? Oh, I'm sure something with Mom... because she is absolutely never wrong. What’s the longest rabbit hole you’ve been down? Conspiracy theories on YouTube, aha... What odd smell do you really enjoy? I really enjoy the smell of lilacs, though I know people who think they smell too strong and/or just stink. If you had a HUD that showed three stats about any person you looked at, what three stats would you want it to show? Hm, interesting question. Maybe approachability, moral alignment, and mood. What is your favorite flavor of pop tart? I really like the chocolate sundae ones. Gum? I really like fruit-flavored gums, especially watermelon or strawberry. Last song you sang along to? I sang a bit to "Second Chance" by Shinedown. Are you fascinated by rivers? Yeah, sure. Streams, more specifically, because you can see the bottom and walk more safely in them. I love exploring those. Do you live near a volcano? No, and I plan on keeping it that way, haha. How big is the screen on your digital camera? I dunno, the normal size for a Canon? Do you find train whistles comforting? No. What bird is the cutest? Oh, that's so hard. I love the pastel-colored ones, and hummingbirds are like, universally cute. Are you scared to look at your own organs on x-ray or ultrasound? No, that's actually really cool. Do big eyes freak you out? On people? Generally, no. I tend to find them cute, actually, especially on girls, but I've definitely seen people with big eyes that instead look kinda creepy. Have you ever walked on a frozen lake/river? Hm, I'm actually not sure. I don't believe so, though. Have you ever held a real sword? No. Have you ever seen a tree over 100 years old? Uh, realistically, probably? That's not that old in the grand scheme of trees, is it? Do you feel uncomfortable at fancy restaurants? I can sometimes, yes. I feel very out-of-place.