#i had to stay at home for halloween and give out candy i cry | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lazypanartist · 2 years

Note

Hi hi!! Im back with your spooky fun!! Fun fact, it took so long bc i started writing something entirely different, but then that one got reaaaally long, so I did something else instead. I hope you enjoy, I feel like the pacing is a bit rough on this one because I tried to make it shorter and did a lot of cuts. 😬

- 📝 Nonnie

PS: Id be up for doing a continuation or another halloween if youre interested! Or both, as always. I love writing for you 💅✨

"Uh. This isn't what I thought you meant when you said 'haunted house', April."

The girl and Donnie both looked back at the youngest who was staring up at the abandoned, four story hospital that was run down and falling apart. Raphael was already looking a bit jittery, but Neon Leon looked like he was rather unimpressed with the whole thing.

"Come on! Some of the cool kids at school said they've checked it out, and the place is totally haunted!! Things thrown at them, whispers and mysterious noises, apparitions, the works!" The eldest of the teens declared. "What better way to wrap up going and scoring a ton of candy on Halloween than checking this place out?"

Don shook his head. "I've got half my stash saying it's not haunted." Looking over smugly at his twin, Leo instead didn't take the bait.

"No way. Ghosts aren't real. Just ask the Gumpus or whatever."

"Psh, even if there were, they're probably not that scary. Ooo, look out, it's the ghost of a baby, it'll cry at youuu~" The eldest brother wailed creepily, bolstered by his younger brothers.

Mikey took a deep breath and calmed his nerves before following suit. "Y-yeah. Nothing that some flashlights and a vacuum can't beat!"

The five teens made their way inside.

–

You awoke from your nap with a start, sitting upright quickly at the sounds of laughter and chatter. Your knees drew closer to your chest on the old rickety recliner you laid out on , and your pointed ear flicked as you tried to pick up on what was going on.

Voices.

People.

What was anyone doing here? This was a creepy abandoned sanitarium in the middle of a bad neighborhood! This SCREAMED 'stay away'!

You swore, if it was that group of overly hormonal college kids again, you would throw more than a can at them. Maybe a book. Or a chair.

This was YOUR haunt.

Silently you melded with the shadows and zipped down the halls, hiding in the darkness once you got to the foyer. You saw a human girl and four mutants all looking around at the decrepit place. Slinking closer, you made sure to stay hidden as you disguise yourself as one of the nearby statue's cast shade.

Sometimes, it really pays to be a Shadow Yokai.

You listened in, quiet as a mouse as the group of teens talked amongst themselves. Well, at least they weren't the last group that busted in your hideout. They seemed…Okay. A bit loud and rambunctious, but much better than the rest.

The one in a pretty good Zorro costume save for a blue mask, the Leader you guessed, continued his spiel about how your asylum wasn't haunted. It was going to just be scary in the normal "Abandoned Creepy Building" way. Apparently, your little home was going to be a snoozefest, and they should've gone home and watched scary movies to close out Halloween.

…Oh! Oh yeah. So it was All Hallow's Eve. Huh. Well…If these guys wanted a scare…maybe you could give 'em what they want! Nothing too bad, no hellish ghouls chasing them down halls or screaming in their faces, but maybe something a bit milder. Messing with hair (or masks, lots of coloured masks on the mutants), throwing a pen or something, maybe even just some dissonant whispers and creepy shadows.

You watched the group bicker for a while about breaking off alone or going in pairs, when something caught your eye as the teched-out plague doctor motioned with his hands and bickered with Zorro. His candy bag jostled and you felt your eyes widen with hunger and need.

He had candy apples.

After checking to make sure no one would spot you, you traveled up the walls to the ceiling, peering down and- Oh baby, these guys were LOADED. Sure, tons of candy, but your eyes could spy so many more treats. Neatly wrapped candy and caramel apples, small bags of chips and pretzels, sodas, juice boxes…! Maybe you would take a…small fee. Just one of each type of apple, that's it. Your heart was set on the sugary seasonal snacks.

You watched as two teams were made- Green Witch and Red Werewolf went upstairs, while Purple, Leader and Orange Voorhees all took the ground level.

You grinned, slinking back into your silhouette form and chasing your prey. You had plans to set in motion.

–

You had to say, you'd certainly had worse Halloween nights.

The group was a dream audience to any shenanigans you decided to pull. The human apparently LOVED getting scared, so you made sure to target her more than the big guy. She really got a kick out of you moving a chair by pushing it from the shadows. Though, Red got his lumps, too. You made sure to knock an old tv tray off a bed and to the floor, letting the clatter spook him.

Team two, however, quickly got on your nerves.

It wasn't that there were two staunch skeptics of everything you did- honestly it made you get more creative. Your plan to just wiggle some papers or whisper down a hall changed to, instead, tipping an old stuffed bear over and making the two catch you juuuust out of the corners of their eyes. No, it was that the two were being real jerks to the little orange one.

Blue seemed to have a penchant for winding him up and scaring the poor guy, who bravely would carry on. Purple would always downplay whatever happened to make Voorhees's skin crawl or make him jump, claiming it was just his imagination or how ghosts weren't proven by science or even that, yes, the idea of an abandoned hospital was scary, but it was nothing more than that and how he should move on.

Honestly, you only got Orange- Mikey? Mikey like, twice with something before you decided to focus all your attention on trying to freak the older mutants out. You dropped an old pot on Leader's head out of annoyance at one point and yanked on the tails of Purple's bandana, and you couldn't help the warmth you felt inside when you heard Mikey laugh at that. You might just take all these guys' apple treats at this rate. Mikey could keep his.

It wasn't until the trio found your room that they really got you peeved.

You slipped under your bed, keen on sticking where it was darkest, while the three poked around. Purple made some comment about how it looked lived in, and Blue claimed it had probably been from "Those guys April told us about that came here last."

Mikey seemed most interested in your sketchbook, however.

The mutant began flipping through the pages, and though you were nervous about having someone see, it felt nice to hear his muttered comments and ratings. He liked a lot of the pieces you did, but his favorite was your little doodle pages scattered throughout, filled with scribbles and shapes and testings of new techniques. Something about seeing how your mind worked.

Well, your mind was about to be hot enough to boil a tea kettle, because when you remembered the others, you looked to see they had left him here. Alone.

You wanted to vocalize your frustration, but knew being alone and hearing that might freak the cute art appreciator out. Instead, you slithered out the door quickly and, when you were a little ways away, pulled yourself from your flat silhouette into your more physical, shadow yokai self.

Thinking fast and hearing Mikey getting distressed, you shifted your appearance into that of a shadowy Blue. As long as the poor guy didn't look closely or catch you under good lighting, he might not notice you weren't the real thing…

"Leo…?"

And thus, the game was afoot.

You dashed down the hall, pausing long enough for Michelangelo to get panicked and chase after, and then you ran around the corner and kept moving.

"w-Leo wAIT!!"

You heard him run after you, candy back shaking and rattling with each of his hurried steps. Alright, if you kept moving, you could either lead the cutie to where any of the others were, OR to the front exit. You turned another corner, passing by utility closets and staff break rooms as you did. You'd need to make sure not to outpace Mikey, so you would slow or stop whenever he needed it. As long as you didn't get distracted you would pull this off without a hi-

You screamed, startling as arms wrapped around your chest and you were clung to. Your disguise dropped, leaving your real form behind.

"Leo, please, w…wha…?"

Why was this guy so fast?? You slowly turned your head, trying not to scare him, but you saw his eyes widen and water at what he could see. It was too late. You knew what he'd just seen

Four fingered hands tipped with claws.

A face that split open to show jagged, needle-like teeth.

Unnaturally long limbs, your twisted proportions.

Burning white eyes, like two moons on a

starless night.

The reaction was near-instant, Mikey's fear almost palpable as he scrambled away with a yelp. You tried, slowly, to reach a hand out and calm him down. Instead, you had to duck as the heavy candy bag the teen carried was lobbed at your head, and he bolted off. Too frightened to even scream. You don't even think he notice he dropped his phone as he ran.

Wincing, you huffed out a breath, listening hard as the frightened terrapin scurried away.

This wasn't what you wanted to happen. Not one bit.

Picking up the candy bag, you had the briefest idea about taking the candy apple you could see, but shook your head. Instead, you gathered it and any scattered treats that fell out as well as his phone, and dove into the shadows once more, attempting to trail after the turtle mutant. However, partway through your search of where he could have gone, his phone rang, and in a panic, you declined the call. The person called again, so you hung up.

There was one place left to check on the ground floor, and you really hoped the poor guy wasn't in there. You didn't like hanging around the morgue much. Pressing an ear outside the door, you heard muffled whimpers and sobs-

Mikey's phone rang again, and you jumped before just turning it off.

"G…Guys?? April? Is that you…?"

Oh boy.

Swallowing nervously, you slowly pushed the door open and slipped in, peering around the large door and making eye contact with the terrified Mikey.

You slowly raised a hand in greeting.

He choked on his fear and sucked all his limbs into his shell, mask clattering to the floor.

Quietly, so as to not startle him, you crept closer, getting about two arm lengths away. You heard a whine echo from the trembling shell.

Unsure of what else to really do, you sat down and pulled a caramel apple from the bag and held it over the head hole like a peace offering.

"Are you okay…?" you whispered.

Slowly, a green head began poking out, and before your eyes you watched as Mikey drew himself out, gingerly taking the treat.

"You…You aren't going to eat me, or steal my soul or…?"

You shook your head. "I just wanted to give you guys a fun Halloween. I wasn't even trying to get you." You huffed. "Blue beat me to the punch usually."

Unwrapping the treat, Mikey took a bite of the sticky snack, chewing thoughtfully. "So…it was you moving stuff and making noises?"

You nodded. "Yeah. No ghosts here. Just me. I'm sorry I uh…scared you real bad…"

Michelangelo quietly took another bite, brushing some stray wetness from his cheek. "My brothers have kinda been jerks tonight. I know they were probably just trying to make me not scared but…"

Your frown deepened before you caught a wicked idea, a sharp sneer splitting your face as you looked back at the doorway of the morgue. "Wanna turn things around on them?"

His eyes widened, curiosity making stars pop up in his eyes before a mischief laden smile appeared. "Ohmigosh, like, scare them back? Heck yea!!"

"How do you feel about being grabbed?"

–

"Mikey!"

The youngest mutant ran forward, panting lightly before stopping in front of the group of four older teens looking for him. "I finally found you guys!

"Where were you!? We've been looking all over for you!"

You stayed low in your silhouette form, hidden in Michelangelo's shadow, waiting for your cue and tuning out most of the rest of what was being said. Bickering ensued, fingers pointed at who was being mean, you were beginning to worry you might not get the right lighting for this, but then…

Mikey took a step back.

"-and then this whole time you've been whispering stuff to me!! Making creepy voices and saying you were going to eat me or my soul or something!"

There we go!

While Leader claimed that wasn't him, was never him, the group watched in horror- except April, she looked jazzed- as Mikey's shadow slowly rose up the wall behind him, twisting unnaturally until sharp claws and teeth formed, the whole shape changing it to something far more sinister and malicious. Blue dropped his flashlight, and Red seemed to be trying to calmly call Mikey closer.

Mikey stepped back, arms crossed, claiming they were trying to scare him again.

You pulled your new shape from the wall, leering over your target. Michelangelo turned to look slowly, and as soon as he was face to face with you, you watched his fearful expression drop into a smirk briefly before it came back and he whimpered.

You grabbed him by his ankle and dove back into your flat shadow form before darting off, dragging the shrieking mutant behind you. He kicked, clawed the floors, did everything he could to "try" and escape you, but you kept stealing him away. You learned from your mishap earlier that you needed to be fast and STAY fast, that these guys were quicker than they looked.

Shadows around the group warped into laughing faces and clawed hands and skulls as they chased the two of you, down, down into the morgue. The door slammed shut loudly, and you used the time to quickly and gently place Mikey on top of a cabinet where he wouldn't be spotted. You darted under a sheet on one of the slabs, taking Mikey's shape and pretending to be him, shaking in fear beneath the cover.

The two of you stifled your giggles as you heard the metal door slowly creak open. You couldn't wait to give them a scare to remember.

Yesssss revenge spooking! Gotta give the big dudes some crap after how mean they were being ^-^

And sorry for taking so long again, it's not you just my busy schedule ilysm

Could we get a Halloween fic for Donnie? I think it'd be funny with how critical he's being here :p

#rottmnt #📝 anon #rottmnt x reader #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the tmnt #rise mikey x reader #halloween fic #halloween

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deathfavor · 8 months

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@barrenstars said: he can't cope, he really can't. he's a vet, and he's supposed to be in the back doing his job, but unfortunately, a lot of the sick animals healed up over the weekend and got sent home, so now his workload died down significantly. now chifuyu has him out front helping kazutora decorate the store for halloween, which was something he absolutely had to do. now he's out front, bottom lip bitten between his teeth as he battles with one of the older cats to get a pumpkin hat on its head. it refuses to comply, and whenever baji manages to pull it on the cat paws it off, leaving the ravenette to suffer and have to do it all over again. tora was somewhere putting up fake autumn leaves, and chifuyu? nowhere to be seen. he claimed he was going to grab lunch, but that was an hour ago. now baji is sitting on the floor of the pet shop, feeling his anger bubble as the feline in front of him fights him over the pumpkin hat, attacking it and giving it a few rabbit kicks. the last straw is when he hears 'monster mash' come on through the store's speaker, and he suddenly becomes overstimulated and his bubbling mood bursts. ❝ this is ridiculous, i'll kill that stupid bastard for making me do this! ❞ swiftly, he picks up the cat, allowing it to attack the hat all it wants. ❝ tora, come get this stupid hat on this stupid cat before i ram my head through that fucking speaker - how old does chifuyu think we are? five? who listens to this shit? ❞

Once, Kazutora had loved this season. More specifically, he had adored Halloween. Had. First, because it had been a night where the sorry group he'd once called friens hadn't used him for money and he could stay out super late, then because he got to spend it with Baji eating candy and getting into mischief and costumes, and then because in juvie they'd get slightly better food on holidays. He'd particularly liked the bat-shaped cookies both years. So even behind bars it had been slightly better than normal days. But then - He swallows the lump in his throat and tries to focus on putting up the colorful leaves and not look towards Baji. He's thankful he at least can choose more of the autumn decorations for now. He'll get to the Halloween ones. Eventually. Though already he's starting to struggle a bit, thoughts swirling in his head.

The sudden outburst from the raven jolts Kazutora back into the present and he recoils slightly from the loud outburst for a split second. Of course it's Baji being loud. Kazutora squints and then lowers his hands when he's satisfied that the leaves are hanging just right before he looks towards their 'big bad vet' of the building. " You're getting your ass kicked by a cat and a pumpkin hat? That's sad, Baji. " Kazutora snorts as he climbs down the ladder. " Wanna cry about it? I won't tell ~ " He teases Baji as he makes his way over to save him from the building rage.

" C'me here, I'll do it. " Kazutora takes the cat from Baji's arms. " You owe me for this, making me do your task too. " He adds while grabbing the hat and sitting himself down on the tile floor. One hand holds up a treat from his pocket, catching the stubborn feline's attention. " Uh. Customers like it? " Kazutora suggests, glancing up at Baji before setting himself to the task of getting the hat on the cat while its distracted. " Halloween's been getting more popular every year. People like feeling festive and all that. " He shrugs slightly and then pauses, suddenly looking up at Baji. "...You don't think Chifuyu ditched us for the rest of the day, do you? " He suddenly frowns suspiciously at the thought, and then makes a face. "....Maybe this is punishment for showing up late. "

#barrenstars #listen he can't not tease baji about it like #big bad baji getting his ass kicked <3 #᛭ — [IC] wounded tiger caught in mania's pit [KAZUTORA HANEMIYA]#a future verse tbt

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oatmealcrisp-freak · 2 years

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I might change a few things in here too, like adding more Kumi scenes, but here's what we got so far <3

Shun was trying his best not to quail at the number of things in the shopping cart. In addition to their Halloween supplies, Saiki had loaded him up to. He had a new wardrobe of basics that actually fit him now, including a winter coat and boots that didn’t have holes in them. His own soaps. A new toothbrush and tooth paste. Saiki had needed to get a new toothbrush holder that had room for more than one.

Shun had needed to excuse himself to the bathroom for a few minutes to have a good cry at that last one. If Saiki noticed his red eyes and blotchy face, which he surely had, he didn’t say anything.

Shun really appreciated that.

He thought he was doing a good job holding up, considering, even though he was getting a bit dizzy from all this walking. But they were almost done.

There was just one more thing left.

“So I know that it’s probably only gonna be the two of us,” Shun looked at Saiki to confirm.

He did with a nod.

Yeah, his aloof and hard to befriend highschool friend was still that, wasn’t he? Heh. Figured.

“But do you, like.” He shifted nervously from foot to foot. “Wanna do costumes too?”

It was making him remember the better days, where he’d been a bit better. A better big brother, a better first son. He’d thrown a Halloween party and nobody had come in a costume. Or Hairo and Aren had tried.

He’d been a mess even then. He’d cried and sulked in his coffin rental. But he’d gotten over himself after hallucinating a monster, and they’d all had a good laugh, and gave out candy and watched movies and had just hung out.

Really, it was a miracle Shun even had friends to begin with.

But somehow, he did.

He still did.

Saiki had made no costume attempts in highschool. He’d always just been there for the candy. But.

Shun smiled a little. “I can paint your face again.”

Saiki snorted at that, and finally the edges of his mouth upticked into a little smile.

“Sure,” He said, and together they turned into the costume section.

☆ヾ(*´・∀・)ﾉヾ(・∀・`*)ﾉ☆

The weather had taken a turn for the cold and his previously overgrown garden had seemed to give up the guff of growing at all.

Kusuo sighed out a breath and rubbed at his forehead as he surveyed the pile of tomato plants he’d just gotten done pulling out. He still had some squashes and gourds that were putting up a good fight against the cold, so those he left, but the cabbage, broccoli, tomatoes, cucumbers, radish, beets, and herbs were definitely done for the season.

It’d been a good season. His fastidious gardening had helped his grocery bill out a lot, and his friends and family’s too, even if everyone was getting kind of sick of zucchini.

‘That’s the last of it for the produce,’ He thought, lifting his hands and waving them over to his compost pile. ‘Now it’s just the fertilizer and mulch, I believe.’

It was sunny, even if it was getting a bit chilly.

If Kusuo’s company stayed for longer, he’d have to check the local bylaws on personal fires.

Shun would definitely appreciate smores.

He gathered the mulch and fertilizer from his shed, stacking the four unopened bags on his shoulder. They were light, at 30KGs a piece, so it was no struggle.

‘And after that I should trim my hedges and trees,’ He thought. He’d already pulled up and put to compost his wilted flowers. ‘Rake after that, of course.’

Kusuo could get this all done in about two minutes if he chose to, probably sooner if he rushed it. His entire yard, front and back, wouldn’t require him to lift a finger.

If Shun hadn’t been here, he’d surely have to.

But truthfully, Kusuo preferred tending to his home with his hands. The work felt good. Pulling the plants with his fingers and his spade, turning the soil to spread the nutrients, spreading the fertilizer then the woodchips over the most delicate of the lot. His roses, for example, would certainly need the insulation.

It helped him feel normal. And at peace, somehow. One. Connected. Underneath the vibrant expanse of blue sky with his fingers in the soil was one of the rare times he got to feeling halfway spiritual.

He set the bags down on the grass and turned around. His front yard was much smaller than the back, with a hedge of pine blocking it off from the driveway and roses along the front retaining wall, and was where he had the bulk of his personal seating area. The back yard and deck were for work. That’s where he hung his laundry and tended to his food.

His front yard was for relaxing.

Hence, the outrageous number of flowers. Kusuo didn’t consider himself a frilly sort of person, but he wasn’t above being swayed by things that smelled sweet.

Not to mention, they attracted pollinators, which his food required. Bwahaha. It was the perfect trap.

‘The grass is getting long,’ He thought, kicking at the ground. ‘I’ll do that after I rake, then.’

If he was smiling, well, it was his yard. He was allowed to. Because Kusuo wouldn’t lie.

He was proud of his home.

He turned to his hanging baskets, floating up to retrieve them. They were dried and brown, but some few determined blooms remained. As he usually did this time of year, he twiddled one, and debated whether or not he should do anything with them.

“Hey Kusuo! Look!”

Kusuo turned around to find Shun grinning up at him. Kumi was slung to his front, and he thrust forward his hand to show Kusuo his prize.

“Isn’t it pretty?”

‘It’ was a leaf. Kusuo looked at it for a moment.

He didn’t usually pay attention to leaves.

Kusuo decided it was.

He smiled, and nodded.

“It is.”

“We should keep it,” Shun said.

Kusuo blinked. Keep it? No, it’d only dry and crumble and attract spiders, but-

“You could press it,” Shun hung it in the front of the wrap and smiled at Kumi. “And add it to Kumi’s baby book”

Kusuo blinked once, twice, then a third time and looked at the basket he was holding.

Yes.

Pressing plant matter for decoration and keepsakes, that was something people did, wasn’t it?

That was perfect.

It was Kumi’s first year. She’d like them when she got older, probably.

“Good idea, Shun.” He looked back at the man on the ground. “Thank you.”

“So when’s Akechi getting here?”

Kusuo let the basket drift down to the table, already moving to the next. “Couple days. He just needs to wrap up a story he’s working on in Hokkaido.”

“Is he still, uh.” Shun faltered.

“Yes.”

Shun laughed a bit. “I wonder how Kumi’ll adjust, you’re a bit quiet!”

“It’ll be good for her.” Kusuo paused and eyed his pansies. “I hope.”

Then he looked at the other man and arched a brow. “But he’s not staying here, he’ll be in town. At least there’s that.”

“From what I remember,” Shun hummed. “He’s a guy that’s, uh. Good in small doses.”

“Only when he’s trying to intimidate you. It’ll be okay. He is considerate.”

“...Right. Right, yeah, no, that makes sense. I don’t think you’d befriend anyone who wasn’t a good person.”

Kusuo shrugged. He could try.

“What about Aiura?”

“She said she’d work it out with her manager and get back to me.” Kusuo snorted. “So I’ll give it five days then unblock her.”

“Blew up your phone, eh?”

Mikoto was the type of person who texted via a stream of consciousness, which was to say, the moment she’d been reminded of his existence he’d gotten treated to a tangent of notifications.

Kusuo wouldn’t exactly call that being blown up but, “Yes.”

Only because ‘being blown up’ didn’t cover the scope.

He wouldn’t say that out loud though. Mikoto was good people.

“What about Toritsuk-”

“No.”

Kusuo cleared his throat a little. “ I mean. He’s busy.”

“Ah. Yes. Alright.”

“Yeah.”

He worked in silence for a moment before Shun’s brain lit up in an idea.

“Oh! I know!”

Shun’s jubilance made him look at the man automatically, and found him bouncing on his toes. Not for the first time, Kusuo remembered what Shun’s guardian spirit was, and had to hide his smirk.

Shun’s eyes glittered with excitement. “What if we throw a Halloween party! Like a reunion, and also everyone can meet Kumi that way, and, well, it’s just October first, so that’ll give us lots of time to get it arranged and stuff.”

Kusuo blinked.

Huh.

It was October, wasn’t it? With Kumi, he’d completely forgotten-

Kusuo dropped to the ground in a second and was grabbing Shun’s shoulders the next.

“Baby Halloween costumes.”

Shun gasped, his jaw dropped. A fiendish light blazed to life in his red eyes, making his friend look particularly hellish as a toothy grin took over his face.

“Baby Halloween costumes,” Shun breathed.

As one they turned and ran into the house.

(Kusuo beat Shun by an entire kilometre.)

Fertiliser and woodchips could wait.

‘Maybe I should get a car,’ Kusuo thought ten minutes later as he squinted at the bus schedule.

The next one wasn’t for another hour.

“Maybe you should get a car,” Shun sighed.

“Maybe I should,” Kusuo agreed.

After all, teleporting was off limits for babies. She’d held up fine with interdimensional transit in the womb apparently but Kusuo couldn’t help but be paranoid. No. No teleporting for Kumi until she was at minimum five years old, maybe even ten depending on her mental development. Likewise, Kumi hadn’t been exposed to his finagling in the human genome in this universe, or Kusuo was pretty sure he’d only done that in this universe, he…didn’t want to think about that. Anyways, he didn’t know if she could actually stand up to the G-Forces and the like that the humans in this universe could. He’d have to do something about that eventually, otherwise life would only be extra dangerous for her, but he wanted to follow her natural growth as closely as he could.

After all, her mother wasn’t exactly normal either, and her father. Well. Kusuo hadn’t seen him in the prayers that’d gone into the coffee jelly cup, so he couldn’t be sure. He had his suspicions but still couldn’t help the intense paranoia.

Especially after the other day.

When he saw Mikoto again, he’d just have to ask her. Even after all this time, she far outstripped him in her accuracy.

“In the meantime,” The phone came to his hand. “We’re gonna get a taxi.”

They were not waiting forty five minutes to take a long ass drive into town to play dress up with Kumi for HER FIRST HALLOWEEN. Hell no. This was right up there with his sweet tooth, Kusuo would not be abiding delay.

“Whoohoo!” Shun shouted. “Taxi!”

☆ヾ(*´・∀・)ﾉヾ(・∀・`*)ﾉ☆

So on one hand, Shun was always excited to dress up, and he was surrounded by costumes on all sides. His cosplay budget was gone, and with school being what it was he hadn’t been able to enjoy it while he’d still had it, not for a couple years anyway. School had taken up so much of his time that he’d barely been able to keep up with his friends, nevermind write or play or design or sew or fabricate armour or, well, anything.

Looking back on it, not having that outlet had probably been what’d done it, honestly. It’d been the nail in his coffin.

So to say he was vibrating in excitement for himself personally was an understatement.

However.

He’d never in his life been able to play dress up with Saiki. Painting blood on his face was the closest he’d ever gotten. This was an opportunity to be seized with both hands. He had to get it right. He had to get it perfect.

“No, not this one. No, no. No. Mmn too furry. No, your glasses. No. No. No. No!”

He had to get it right, he couldn’t let this down, he couldn’t fail, he had to-

“Hey.” Saiki was looking at a werewolf costume. “What about this one-”

Shun snatched it from his hands and told him, “No!”

And then he paused. And then he felt himself begin to shake.

He drew the bag in slowly, holding it to his chest. Inside, his heart must’ve been breaking the sound barrier it was going so fast cus that was all he could hear was it booming.

“Hey.”

Shun did his best to breathe.

A hand settled on his shoulder. Saiki ducked into his vision.

He actually looked concerned.

“Hey. Kaidou. Look at me.”

Desperate to get it right, Shun looked at him.

Saiki smiled. Or tried to. Maybe. He looked a bit too freaked out in his subtle way for it to really appreciate, though.

“This doesn’t need to be perfect.”

Shun stared. Saiki swallowed.

He said next, “But thank you for thinking of me, okay?”

That sounded like rejection.

“Did I,” Shun swallowed. “Did I get it wro-”

“No.”

Saiki shook his head. He took the werewolf costume back and hung it on the hook it’d come from.

“It’s only Halloween. There’s no failing grade.”

Saiki looked back at him. “Okay?”

There’s no failing grade.

“There’s.” Shun blinked. “No failing grade?”

Not for Halloween.

Oh.

He looked at his feet.

Of course.

His priorities. Somehow he’d gotten them all confused. Everything felt so life or death now. Shun looked back up. “I’m sorry-”

But Saiki shook his head. Then he pulled a witch costume down, looked at it, and looked at Shun and asked, “What about this one?”

Shun blinked at it. A witch? Saiki? Then he paused and considered that. Squinted.

Said, “It’s a bit,” He mimed like he was Pinnochio. “Isn’t it?”

That’d interfere with Saiki’s glasses, nevermind, uh, other connotations.

Saiki looked at it, nodded, and put it back. He grabbed an angel costume next. It was still a dress. Shun was pretty sure Saiki was deliberately trying to be goofy right now in his own off-kilter way, but honestly?

He laughed. “Now that one suits you.”

Saiki blinked, squinted at him, then squinted at the dress. He looked like he didn’t believe it. Maybe cus he was such a grump he thought it didn’t suit him, but it did.

Shun, dressed in his borrowed clothing, looking at a full cart of soon to be his belongings and things bought expressly to cheer him up where otherwise he knew Saiki wouldn’t care, knew it to be true.

Facts were facts.

Saiki shrugged and threw it into the cart anyway. “Your turn.”

Shun blinked. “Wait, you’re really gonna get it?”

“Yeah, why not.”

“Oh. Uh. Right. Hm. Oh, I could reprise dracula? Haha, or I could be a devil to suit your angel!”

The devil costumes had more range than the angel ones. There was a dress, a body suit, and a tux looking outfit with a voluptuous looking cape, and of course devil horns and a tail.

Shun did like capes.

Saiki grabbed the one with the cape and dropped it in the cart, then made to leave.

“But that’s the more-” Shun stuffed his voice back into his throat.

Saiki looked back at him, raised an eyebrow.

Shun swallowed and glanced at the price tags, remembered how many times Saiki had told him not to worry about it, and dragged in a deep breath.

“We should try them on to make sure they fit,” He said instead.

Saiki, who’d been about to turn out the exit, blinked. Said, “Ah.” And nodded.

‘Wait. Did he seriously not think about that?’ Shun looked at the costumes and rifled through until he found the small for him, then the extra large of the angel costume just in case. It was a dress after all. Saiki would probably have to size up.

Except he hadn’t even thought of it.

‘Weird.’ Saiki had said he didn’t know the first thing about Halloween. Shun just hadn’t expected that to extend to shopping for clothes, either. His friend had always seemed competent in that. But maybe Halloween was tripping him up? Well. Whatever. Shun shrugged it off.

One, wasn’t his business.

Two, that’s why he was here!

“Onwards, ho!”

“Ho,” Saiki agreed, and together they made for the changing rooms.

☆ヾ(*´・∀・)ﾉヾ(・∀・`*)ﾉ☆

“Aaahhh!” Mikoto squealed. “Oh my goodness lookitchu, oh look those cheeks, I canNOT believe you legitskies found her out in the rain.”

Then Mikoto paused, and snickered. “I’m also lovin the matching fits.”

“I’m not.” Shun huffed. “Kusuo, you’ve had that costume for years.”

Kusuo frowned. “Why is that a problem?”

With his time restore powers, this thing was practically brand new. And it hadn’t exactly been cheap, either.

Mikoto shook her head.

She was a leopard. Catsuit, coat, cat ears, a tail, makeup and thigh high boots that Kusuo was trying very hard not to freak out over because she was wearing shoes passed his entryway, inside his home, and but they were clean, she’d swapped them in from a pair of flat soled galoshes in his foyer, so it was just habit making him have an internal tizzy about it.

“Some things never change, bro. Kusuo’s always been a massive cheapskate. If he had to buy a wedding dress, he’d probably wear it every day just to get his money out of it.”

Kusuo frowned deeper. He would. He was glad that was at least twenty years off for Kumi, hopefully more, because he would.

Shun snorted, and the action made the visor on his helmet fall down on his finger, making him squawk. On account of he was a knight. In armour he’d made himself. Which was precisely why Kusuo had recommended him to Good Smile. His cosplay had suited him uniquely to crafting objects in 3D, even if neither Shun nor his mom had ever considered it a viable skill before.

Made Kusuo want to shake his head. He hoped he’d be better for Kumi. But he couldn’t imagine a thing she’d do that’d make him throw her out in the cold, even after she grew up and stopped being a carryable and adorable baby. Granted, for months he’d been worrying over giving her to a family better suited to her, but that’d hardly make her homeless. The threat of her eventual potential homelessness was what’d forced his hand!

What Mrs. Kaidou had been thinking, Kusuo genuinely couldn’t parse.

But he’d said his piece.

Vociferously.

It made him want to smile, remembering it, but he wouldn’t. He didn’t want to scare anyone. Yet.

“Anyways, thank you.” Kusuo looked down at her and smiled. She was gaping at Mikoto’s face.

Mikoto saw and instantly started playing peek-a-boo. The expression Kumi always made when peek-a-boo happened was a killer, he was glad Mikoto got to enjoy it. Especially with her dressed up as a little angel.

Ironic. Her temperament wasn’t exactly angelic unless she was sleeping.

But with a bit of help, it was easier to be separated from it, and not take it so personally as an indicator of his failings as a parent that. Funny that. Kusuo hadn’t even realised he could take something personally.

He looked at the clock. “Here,” He said, and plunked Kumi into Mikoto’s arms. “Get to know her for a few minutes. I’m gonna get the pumpkins ready.”

“Oh shoot yeah, it’s about time for everyone else to start showing up, isn’t it?” Shun said, and was answered by the doorbell.

Kusuo gave Shun a frown. “You said it, you get it.”

“Hah! Yeah, yeah.”

Mikoto followed him out. “Y’know. Not to be a total bummer on you or nothing, but it’s sorta hard to believe that you did all this yourself. You’ve never been the keener type.”

“I’m a keener when it comes to being a cheapskate.”

Mikoto sent him a look. “Don’t harsh yaself either, babe. You and me both know that maintaining a garden isn’t cheap, on either the wallet or the internal resources. There’s a reason lots of people have to get their produce from the store. You’ve put a ton of work into this place, shit’s obvi AF, don’t sell yourself short.”

She had him there. Kusuo sighed, and looked down at his pumpkins.

Fortunately he had four that were grown enough for the activities.

“I moved up here for a reason. It. Gives me more resources. Honestly I’m still a cheapskate.”

He cranked a vine and it gave a green smelling snap.

“I don’t have a lot of energy, never have. But up here there’s less strain on my powers so.” He shrugged and stood with the pumpkin. “I have more.”

Mikoto breathed a gasp of understanding. “Your telepathy…”

Kusuo couldn’t help but give her a little dry smile. “And my parents.”

At that Mikoto gave a brief laugh and shook her head. Kusuo took that moment to study her. Boots aside, she wasn’t that much taller. But she did look a bit older. It was interesting to see the way that she’d matured since highschool. Of course some things never changed. Instead of sparkly stickers, she had sparkly gems, and sparkly eyeliner. She still dropped slang, but not as much of it. Her hair was even curlier, but shorter, because now she had to stuff it into helmets. She’d spray painted polka dots into it. She was a racer with an incredibly successful career. She still asked him to marry her sometimes, mostly as a joke, but with her career at the forefront for the last long while, they’d actually barely spoken.

He hated to say it, so he wouldn’t, but he’d missed her.

She looked good.

“I guess that makes sense.”

“Besides, it’s not just my grocery bills.”

Mikoto squawked as a zucchini almost beaned her in the head but she managed to catch it and blinked at it in confusion. Kusuo (who never would have allowed her to drop it anyway since she was holding Kumi) smirked.

“Take it and be grateful.”

“Hah! Okay Mr. I Help Noone But Myself.”

“I am helping myself. Groceries are expensive. This way I don’t have to listen to people whine. Plus.”

Kusuo spread his arms, his wings spreading with them, and allowed his eyes to glow as he smiled.

“Everyone is going home with a zucchini.” He chuckled a little bit. “Everyone.”

Mikoto blinked.

She looked down at the zucchini in her hand.

She looked back at him, and her jaw dropped.

“You fiend.”

“That’s right.” Kusuo swept a hand in the direction of his garden, his chuckle thrumming up from the earth itself. “This party isn’t only so people can get to know Kumi. It’s also-”

Mikoto shook her fistful of veggie at him like she was shaking her fist at God. “To load everyone down with your damn zucchini!”

Kusuo threw back his head and laughed.

And then he accidentally dropped the pumpkin on his foot because he got too distracted being evil and dramatic. “AH! Shiiiiiiooooooopumpkin.”

“I haven’t heard that expletive before. I’ll add that to my lexicon. Thanks babe.”

“I don’t wanna swear around Kumi.”

“Is the pumpkin okay?”

A sharp sigh. “No. But that’s fine.”

Kusuo waved his hand and the pumpkin restored itself, and he bent over and picked it up, then moved to snap the next one off the vine.

“How many zucchini do you want?”

“Uhm. I’ll stick with the one, thanks. I aint fallin into that trap, boo.”

“Tch. Good grief. Fine.”

#freaks fics #single dad saiki fic

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adaricruz · 6 months

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unfortunately i couldn’t finish my halloween connor drawing for this year, i started my own tradition of making a piece of connor w tate’s skull makeup every year, & i wanted this year’s to be even more elaborate bUT i didn’t have much time ( or motivation ) .

i also had in mind to finish it for dia de muertos , but i thought it wouldn’t be rlly fitting to make a drawing of a white american for that 🧍🏻🧍🏻 ( was going to make one of miguel & connor to at least use one (1) mexican character LMFAO but again , couldn’t find the energy )

SOO take con’s corpse bride post as this years halloween post <3

AND here’s some headcanons to make up for it ! ( for my own version of connor )

- i believe connor wouldn’t enjoy halloween as much now that he’s older & he’s gone through all the consequences of his past actions . he would stay at home under a million blankets , listen to the kids laugh & ask for candy with melancholic nostalgia & try not to cry his eyes out . he misses when he used to take zoe trick or treating with silly matching costumes & make her give him all her sour candy ( in exchange , he would give her the coconut ones )

- throughout my lore , connor meets various characters that could be considered friends ( i write as connor , & the friends are usually my writing partner’s oc’s or other canon characters for crossovers ) some that he’s grown very close to & he would def go have some fun with , but he would still feel very melancholic during halloween , & prob walk around with a very sullen expression & ask to leave early bc he’s just not doing well .

- my version of zoe is very resentful towards connor , but she looks back to their halloween memories with fondness , so she would probably come home & leave some sour candy for connor to find on his door .

- connor’s costumes would consist of characters from very niche source materials or from classic films . i once dressed him up as alex delarge ( from clockwork orange , matching with tate , since i hc that it’s his fave film & novel ) frank - n - furter ( self - indulgent since it’s my fave film , but unrealistic since connor is very insecure of his body so a revealing costume wouldn’t rlly be his go to ) & this year corpse bride mostly for the ship art & character design ( wouldn’t be canon in the lore since the movie didn’t even exist in the 90’s ) he would also prob do pun halloween costumes or use the ‘ this is my costume ‘ shirt .

- in conclusion , connor thinks of halloween with excitement , but his demons are far too strong for him to be able to enjoy it now .

if you read these , thanks ! will prob finish this soon (?

#connor murphy ac #demolition ac #connor murphy #deh

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bisexualbumblebee-writes · 1 year

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Halloween Surprise- Steve Harrington x OC

Steve Harrington x Ella Warner

Description: Ella gets home after taking her cousins trick or treating and sees Steve sitting on her doorstep in tears.

Word Count: 2k

Sunday nights were relatively boring for Ella. Usually they consisted of lazing around the house and finishing up any homework she’d yet to finish before Monday. Tonight was Halloween though, so she had offered to take her little cousins trick or treating when her aunt and uncle had to attend a party at work. It had been a fun night and both she and her cousins received a lot of candy. Everything seemed normal when she dropped her cousins off back at their house then headed home.

Upon pulling into her driveway, she was surprised to see another car already parked in the street. Her parents were also at a company Halloween party and weren’t expected back until well after midnight, so it wasn’t their car. It was, however, one that she still recognized immediately. It was Steve’s BMW 733i. Ella’s brows furrowed as she turned off her car and stepped out, walking towards her front door.

Sure enough, Steve was sitting on the steps leading up to her front porch. He wore a black jacket on top of a black shirt as well as jeans, and he absolutely reeked of alcohol and teenage hormones. His arms were wrapped around his knees as his gaze stayed on his lap, almost as if he hadn’t heard her walking up to him until she spoke.

“Steve?” She asked confusedly. The boy looked up, and Ella’s eyes widened when she noticed his red and puffy eyes. He’d been crying. Her brows furrowed in concern as he shakily stood and licked his lips, trying to figure out what to say.

“I…I didn’t know where else to go,” he whimpered. He looked like he needed a hug, and so Ella dropped her bag of candy and held out her arms for him. Without a word he walked off the step he stood on and stepped into the girl’s open arms, practically collapsing in another small fit of cries. She rubbed his back and shushed him soothingly as they swayed side to side. After a few minutes she slowly pulled away.

“How about we go inside, okay?” She suggested gently, earning a nod from him. Ella kept an arm around his waist as she leaned down to pick up her bag before leading him up the stairs. She didn’t ask questions until they were safely inside her house.

After leading him over to the couch, she helped him sit down. While he took a minute to collect himself Ella busied herself with going to the kitchen to get him a glass of water. Once she finished, she handed him the glass as she took a seat on the couch, waiting for him to take a drink before speaking once again.

“Alright, why don’t you tell me what happened?” She asked softly. Steve nodded, then took a deep breath as he collected his thoughts.

“I um… Me and Nancy went to the Halloween party Tommy was hosting,” he started, voice slightly hoarse from crying. “The punch was spiked, which is nothing new, but Nancy… She just kept on drinking. Like, a lot. She got super drunk and spilled some punch on her shirt and so I took her to the bathroom so she could clean it up. But then…” he trailed off, almost as if he didn’t want to say something. Ella took the chance to grab his hand and give it a comforting squeeze. He seemed to appreciate the gesture because he offered her a weak smile before looking down at his lap again.

“She got super mad out of nowhere and started rambling. Um… she told me that it was my and her fault for Barb’s death.” Ella’s breath hitched at the mention of her friend. Of course she knew what really happened, and she knew that it wasn’t any of their faults, but even after a few months it was still hard to hear her name. Nevertheless, she stayed silent.

“Then she started talking about our relationship,” Steve continued. “She said… she said that she didn’t actually love me. And that our relationship was bullshit.” He took another shaky breath after saying that, and he shook his head.

“I left Tommy’s house after that. I’m not proud of just leaving her there, but Jonathan Byers was there and I asked him to make sure she got home. I trust him enough to at least follow through with that. I’m… I’m sorry that I came by so late, but I just didn’t know where to go.”

“No, don’t worry about that Steve,” Ella shook her head, squeezing his hand one last time before letting go. “I don’t mind.” The boy nodded with a sniffle.

“I just… I don’t know what to do. I really liked her,” he muttered. Ella’s heart broke as she listened to him because she knew it was true. She rested a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry that you have to go through this, Steve,” she started softly. “It’s not fair for anyone to hear something like that.” The boy sighed, leaning back against the couch.

“What do I do now, Ella?” She hummed thoughtfully as her hand slid down to his back to rub it soothingly like she’d done outside.

“Well, you do what you believe is best for you. If you think you should talk to Nancy about it, then do it. If you want nothing to do with her anymore, no one will blame you. What she said was hurtful and she should’ve said it when she was sober. Whatever you end up doing, just know I’ll support it. And you don’t have to decide right now. It’s okay to think things over and take time to figure it out. There’s no rush,” she answered softly. Steve nodded slowly, then looked at her for the first time since he’d explained what happened.

“Do you… C-Can I stay here tonight? I don’t think I can drive home.”

“Of course,” she answered without hesitation. “You’ll have to stay on the couch though, I don’t think my parents will appreciate coming home and seeing a teenage boy in their daughter’s bed.” That elicited a quiet laugh from the boy as he nodded.

“Fair enough,” he muttered as he shed his jacket.

“I’ll go get you some pajamas,” Ella informed him as she stood. After getting the okay from him, she jogged up to her parent’s bedroom and snagged some pajamas from her father’s dresser, bringing them back down to Steve. He went to bed soon after, just wanting to sleep the events of tonight off. The girl waited for her parents to get home before explaining what happened and why Steve was sleeping over. Once her parents understood, she finally went upstairs to bed.

As she laid in bed waiting for sleep to come, she thought about how different her night had been compared to what she originally planned. She and Steve had gotten significantly closer since the theater sign incident, but she was still surprised that she’d been the first one Steve thought of when looking for comfort. But, at the same time, she felt happy that he trusted her so much. And yet her heart hurt for him. He wasn’t the perfect guy, but anyone could tell that he treated Nancy right. The fact that she said what she said while drunk didn’t make it any better. They say a drunk mind speaks a sober heart, and Nancy didn’t even have the guts to tell him when she was sober. Ella believed that that’s what made her the most upset. Of course, she couldn’t do anything because it wasn’t her relationship, but that didn’t make her any less angry at her old friend.

Steve ended up taking Ella to school the next day in thanks for the previous night. Of course they made a quick pit stop at his house so he could change into some school appropriate clothes, then they were on their way. Usually he drove Nancy to school, so people were understandably surprised to see Ella get out of his car instead. He had considered picking her up, but he was still too hurt by what she said to do so. Before they parted ways, Ella pulled him off to the side.

“Just remember, you do what’s best for you,” she said low enough so only he could hear her. “You’ve got this. Steve offered her a weak smile then nodded, offering her a quick side hug before they went in separate directions for their first class.

Throughout the day all Ella could think about was Steve. She was worried about him seeing Nancy again. Every so often she’d see him in the hallway, but he wouldn’t be talking to anyone. She’d offer him a smile as she passed, but she didn’t have time to talk with him until the end of the day. Steve was already waiting by his car when she arrived.

“Hey, sorry to keep you waiting,” she greeted apologetically. The boy just shrugged.

“I wasn’t waiting long,” he answered, though it didn’t look like his heart was in the conversation. Ella became concerned.

“Is everything okay?” She asked quietly, taking a step closer to him. Steve hesitated for a moment, then sighed before answering.

“Nancy came up to me after gym,” he started, which put Ella on edge.

“And what did she say?”

“Well, I didn’t want that Hargrove guy to listen to us so we went outside. She asked me why I didn’t pick her up for school this morning.” he responded, which instantly made Ella mad again. She seriously had the audacity to ask that after what happened.

“Are you serious?” The girl asked heatedly, earning a nod from Steve.

“Yeah, I felt the same way,” he retorted, leaning back against the car again. “So I asked her if she remembered anything from last night. Apparently she didn’t. So I told her everything she said last night and she tried to say that she was just drunk and that it wasn’t true. It still felt off though, so I asked her if she really loved me.” He stopped, which made Ella raise her eyebrows expectantly.

“And? What did she say?” She tried not to sound impatient.

“That’s the thing. She didn’t say anything,” he answered dutifully. “That obviously didn’t feel good, so I just left. I couldn’t be around her anymore.” It looked like he was trying not to cry as he finished and she immediately pulled him into another hug. He welcomed it, resting his chin on her shoulder.

“You did good,” she muttered comfortingly. “You did what you thought was best. Of course it’s gonna hurt for a while, but it’ll be okay. You can only go up from here.” She continued consoling him until half the parking lot was empty. Steve was the one to pull away, and he offered her a weak smile.

“Thanks, Ella,” he muttered.

“It’s no problem Steve,” she answered with a kind smile. “I’ll always be here.” The boy nodded, and Ella watched as his gaze flickered down to her lips before looking into her eyes once again. It took her only a split second to realize that he was leaning in, and she was quick to press a gentle hand to his chest. It made him pause, looking at her with a subtly confused and dejected expression. She smiled apologetically.

“I’m sorry,” she muttered as her hand slid up to his shoulder. “I think we should wait until you’re for sure over Nancy. I don’t want you to do something you’ll regret later.” Steve didn’t look happy about it, but she knew he understood. It was for the best, anyways.

“Okay,” he said, pulling away from her. “Are you ready?” She nodded and allowed him to open the door for her, thanking him as she got inside. Once he was inside as well, they shared a smile before he pulled out of the parking lot.

#stranger things #stranger things imagine #steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x oc

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declanfs · 6 months

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November 1, 2023

Hard to believe its November! Where has this year gone?! I haven’t typed a bunch in a while because we are always so busy doing all of the things, but I made myself this velcro chore chart thing for extra accountability, and I am a stickler for streaks and crossing things off my list, so here I am! (A Tumblr post is on my weekly list)

This might be too much to share with you because its mental health related and it might shatter the fourth wall or whatever because I’m a parent and an adult and I’m supposed to have everything figured out, but lately I am having lots of fear around not being here to watch you grow up. I have no reason to really have these thoughts because I’m as fit as a fiddle, but I guess because I’ve had some people get sick and/or pass away in my circle of friends and family. But I guess my biggest fear of all surrounding these thought processes is that you will have to grow up without me and not know how much I love you and how much I cherish our days and nights together. You are a ton of work, there is no downplaying that fact, but you have brought about the most meaningful and life changing work of my whole life. Some days are really hard, but a lot of days are so great and filled with little magics and I feel like I am so good at being your mom. So the purpose of this little paragraph is just to let you know that if something ever happens and I am not here, I hope you can read this and know that if it was matter of fighting and trying to stick around for you, I would move the heavens and earth and mountains and stars to be here for you as long as I can. To be here if you need my help, or to listen to your stories, to share in your joy, or to just be your biggest fan and cheerleader from the closest you’ll let me sit in the stands. I tell you every day that I love you forever and always, no matter what, but I just wanted it here in writing in case you forget and need this reminder.

I love how you curl into me and say ‘I love you mama’ 5-15 times right before you fall asleep. I will pick you uppy as long as I can, even though you are getting quite tall (39”) and growing stronger and bigger everyday (31.5lb). I will never say no if you ask me to read to you, and Dada or I will sleep with you until you decide that you are ready to sleep alone. I didn’t know it at the time, but YOU and this exact brand of motherhood is exactly what I signed up for and better than I could have dreamed.

Yesterday was Halloween and you did not really want to go. You definitely did not want to wear your costume at all. You were crying as I helped you get dressed and said you wanted to stay home and watch Paw Patrol, and I told you that I hoped you could trust me and give it a chance and if we got out there and you still didn’t like it, we could take your costume off and come back home. Once we got outside and you saw that dada was coming too, you seemed happier, and then you were happier still when we got to Jace’s house and you saw him and Cami and Paula. You probably would have been content to just run through the leaves and stay in their yard until it got dark, but I asked you to trust me again and give trick or treating a chance.

It took you a few houses to warmup, meaning dada had to carry you up to the front door and hold out your bucket for you, but then you saw Jace and cami running around and after that I had to chase you up and down the streets. It got dark pretty quickly and our neighborhood is not well lit so it was a bit scary to think about losing sight of you! You got 68 pieces of candy (not counting whatever you and dada ate before we got home), and you even said trick or treat and thank you as you went up to people. It was fun to watch and your little “thank you” is super cute and sweet.

We got home around 7:45 and I don’t think you fell asleep until close to 9 because we stayed up to look through your candy and eat some and so I could make that reel to commemorate the day. You slept hard but woke up a few times in the night telling me that I messed up your trees. I asked you about it in the morning and you were talking about the farm toy rotation and said I took your trees and put them on the couch or something? I’m not sure, but its so funny when you talk in your sleep.

Today we just had an easygoing day at home. For the past few weeks you haven’t wanted to leave the house as readily as usual. I’m hoping its just a phase, but I also recognize that you need days to just chill and play at home so I can’t and don’t want to have things planned every day of the week.

A normal day:

6:30 wake up to the birds on your hatch sound machine. Sometimes you just want to lay up there and snuggle and “hide.” Some days you bolt upright at the first bird sound and you say “it’s morning, time to wake up”

Sometimes you go to the gym and play on your climbing gym while dada and I do our workouts, but some days dada has already done his workout and you and he play while I do my workout. He chases you, or hides with you, reads books, builds magnatiles, whatever your little heart desires. You’ll have a smoothie or are starving and eat 3 pancakes or French toast sticks or eggs.

8:30ish I have my breakfast. Sometimes you join me, but sometimes you are already done eating and just wander around while I eat.

We play inside or I convince you to go to the library or the park or the gymnastics gym or Pop and Deedees or more recently the AmFam pool area

11:30/12:00ish is lunch.

After that is done, sometimes 20 min, sometimes an hour and a half, we make our way upstairs to nap. For a while you really wanted to sleep in your teepee and that was not super comfortable for me or dada, but we would do it for you.

You’ll nap for 90 min or 2 hours. I have been sneaking out lately to work on programming or other random house projects that a bit easier to do when you are asleep.

Lately, you wake up still tired I think, so you are pretty sad and needs lots of hugs and love for 20-30 min after you wake up. Sometimes we read books in your room or watch videos on my phone, sometimes we hide in your downstairs fort, sometimes I can distract you with something or take you outside right away and then you are content to play.

6:00 dinner

6:45 bedtime vitamin and bath or shower, then books. The past few nights you have wanted to read Our Birth Story book that titi Nelly made for us, which has been very special and sweet to look through with you. It’s fun to hear what stories you are learning go with each picture and how you were growing in my belly and dada and pa buried your willow tree and how we didn’t have any toys in the backyard because we were waiting to see what kind of toys you would like.

Tonight was a tough one because the lights went off at 7:30 but you didn’t fall asleep until 8:20. You tossed and turned and were cold then hot and you didn’t like the blanket and your feet were too hot. You said “I love you mama” about 9 times and after you flopped around for the 10th time, I asked if you wanted me to sing you some songs and you said yes. This is my magic trick. I’m not sure why it works, but you ask me to sing the little blue truck song, which is me singing the words to Little Blue Truck Leads the Way (I have it memorized because we read that book every night for like 2 months straight), and it takes about 3 minutes. Usually by the end of that, you will be asleep. But tonight it took a few extra songs: Row your boat, twinkle twinkle, head shoulders knees and toes, and finally you are my sunshine. It feels so good to be able to do this for you. It feels so good that my arms and my voice and heartbeat are the things that help you feel safe and comfortable enough to fall asleep. I know you and dada have your own things for bedtimes and wakeups, but this is how it always works for us. Sometimes you fall asleep in 10 minutes, and sometimes it takes over an hour. Usually its closer to 30 minutes.

So anyway, this post was a bit unusual and next time I’ll share more about the funny things you do and say, but this needed to be said. I love you forever and always, no matter what. There’s no problem so big that we can’t solve it together.

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wuggy101 · 7 months

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I’m so fucking single it’s depressing, and for what? Yeah, I have so many problems, and shit that I have to work on, but I am the biggest romantic I’ve ever known.

You need something done? School work? Work? Finished. If it involves talking to people, it might be a little bumpy, but it’ll be done.

Need something cleaned/organized? I’ll do it in a heartbeat. I rarely clean my own room, but it’s still clean. I would prefer it not be outside, but I will still do it, if it’s you I’m doing it for.

Need praise? I could say a million ways on how utterly perfect and amazing you are, how beautiful you are. I can barely take compliments myself, but I give them out to people like it’s candy on Halloween.

You need help with your music? I have a playlist 86 hours long, filled with songs from all different genres, artists, and more.

You need help with fashion? I may not hold my outfit choice’s to very high standards, but I do my best to make the greatest outfits for you.

Need an energetic word vomit to listen to? I can up my energy levels to a lot higher then what I usually do(it’s why I stay in my room all the time, to recharge!). I can talk about my hyper fixations at that time. Or past ones. Or I can research your hyper fixations, and then word vomit about them.

Need some peace and quiet? I love to be quiet, I do it all the time, it’s when I read.

Need some help with mental health/illnesses? I’ve seen my fair share of things, I’ll help you the best I can.

Need help with other health problems? I will research about it, and help out in any way I can, to the best of my abilities.

Need a shoulder to cry on? I might not be the best at comfort, but I’ll do everything in my power to cheer you up!

Need to vent? Of course you can! You can always talk to me, and about anything!

Need help reevaluating your beliefs? I’ve done that a lot, and most times I look at both sides, not just one, so hopefully I can help them, and you, evolve your fundamentals.

Need help with family/ friends? I’ll try my best to make everyone happy.

What something? If I have enough money, then sure, and if I don’t but it’s a small enough then I might be able to make it at home!

Want physical touch? I’ve always wanted someone to cuddle with! We can hold hands, and dance together. We can give light kisses along each other’s skin, and during a date I’ll do the thing in movies when the guy gently holds your hand and kisses it while saying how stunning you are.

Want some space? Got it! We can do stuff without touching, sometimes I also don’t want touch!

Want to get ‘intimate’? We’re too young for that, but we could do some heated kisses. But when we get older, then hell yeah! But we both have to be in the mood, and explicit consent must be said!

Want to talk about our future? We can talk about anything! Our wedding, what type of house we get/make, our professions, what animals we have, if we decide to adopt, and so much more!

Need help with learning something and want me to teach you? I’m not very good at explaining stuff, and I’m pretty bad at teaching, but I try my best to make sure you understand the concepts.

Want to have fun? We can go anywhere you want!

Want to go on a date? Duh! Of course we can! I’ll make it one of the best you’ve ever had! It’ll be so romantic and sweet, and I’ll dress up as best I can!

I may ask for a lot, or maybe not, I have no idea. But I’ll definitely try and be the best girlfriend I can!

#lesbian #lgbtq #love is love #hopelessly in love #romantic #romance #i will love you forever #she/they #Spotify #mental heath support #fashion #wlw love #wlw positivity #queer youth #love quotes #sounds gay #I’m in #pretty girls #gaslight gatekeep girlboss

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osakunt · 3 years

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「𝟭𝟮:𝟰𝟱 𝗽𝗺」 - 𝗞𝘂𝗿𝗼𝗼.𝗧

Kuroo having to hide the candy his kid collected the morning after Halloween because he caught both you and the kid gobbling them up early in the morning.

“It’s not healthy”

“Okay and ?”

“Don’t ‘okay and’ me. It’s 8 in the morning and you woke your mother up to eat candy”

“Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t” the boy shrugs pouting

“You did. I heard you open the room door” he responds to the boy who is gripping onto your leg because he’s scared his father will discipline him with a good smack.

“I’m not going to hit you…..I am taking that candy away though”

“Papa no !! I promise I’ll be good”

“Don’t care. Your health is more important than you being a good kid”. He meant his words and stuck to them making the dark haired boy start crying into your legs.

You amused at Kuroo, you calm you baby down before snickering at Kuroo who comes out the pantry after leaving the candy somewhere where his son wouldn’t get into the them.

“Okay Mr. I’m a strict parent. I love you but you need to eat before you go” you lay a plate of breakfast in front of him on the table. “Eat” you side eye him knowing that he was going to reject saying something like “I’m running late” or “I’ll get something on the way out”

“You too,mister” you run your hand through your son’s dark locks making him sit at the table. The little boy was throwing a silent tantrum where he stayed silent and didn’t bat an eye towards Kuroo the whole time you all sat at the table.

When Kuroo left, he gave you a kiss and a hug while noticing that his son was not at the door to send him off. “He’ll be fine. When you come back you can let him pick any candy from the bag and hide them again”

“Oh not bad. Yea that’s cool” Kuroo agrees not all too convinced that that would get his son to love him again.

“ ‘Suro he loves you. He’s throwing a tantrum like any other kid his age. It’s fine, baby. He loves you and he’ll love you when you come back” you give him one last kiss before pushing him out the door.

“Where’s papa ?”

You smile hearing the words your husband also heard. “As I said. He loves you - he’s at work, baby. Did you need him for something ?”

“I want him to play volley with me. I wanna learn how to block” Kuroo smirks hearing his son wanting to spend time with him. “As soon as I get home we’ll do that champ. Be good for mama and we’ll even get donuts when I get home”

“Papa” he dashed to your side swing his dad on the phone screen as you scroll through your laptop at some work you had to do. “I want the glazed and the chocolate!!”

“Your mom likes hers glazed”

“…mama what does-”

“I’ll be hanging up now”

“Wait babe, no ! I’m just playin’. But yea when I get home we’ll do that. Love you both. See y’all in three hours” Kuroo smiles before pressing the red icon. Seeing his son smile was enough for him to know that the kid would always love him - no matters the tantrum.

#kuroo tetsurō #kuroo testuro #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo x female reader #dad Kuroo #haikyuu x reader #nekoma x reader

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show-choir-gal · 3 years

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How You Two Meet - Slashers Preference

Masterlist of Masterslists

Thomas Hewitt: You were walking by the house after escaping a potential assaulter You had been walking for what seemed like hours. You had sliced clothes and open wounds. You were shivering uncontrollably and your eyes were swollen from sobbing. It was dusk when you came across a lone farm house in the middle of who knows where. You were so tired from walking, the attempted assault, and crying. Your body was finally starting to give out. You started to trip over almost every little thing. A sheriff car rolled up behind you. "Hey there, I'm sheriff Hoyt. Are you lost?" The man said as he rolled down his window to talk to you. That was the last straw and your body finally let go and you fell to the ground crying. Hoyt got out of his car and grabbed you and placed you in the passenger seat. Once you two were parked by the farm house, Hoyt called for a woman as he grabbed you and carried you into the house. He placed you down on a chair in the kitchen and a woman came running in. "Oh gosh, what happened?" The woman asked as she looked at you then Hoyt. "I don't know, she was just walking when I found her." A man in a leather mask walked into the room and immediately he was drawn to you. He stared lovingly at the woman in front of him. "Thomas, please stitch this young lady up so she can get better." The woman said as she sent the man to fetch his supplies. "I'm Luda May. I think Thomas really likes you. He'll stitch you right up and I'll fetch you a glass of water and you can explain everything, alright?"

Bubba Sawyer: Your car broke down by the farmhouse You were driving down a long dirt road when all of a sudden your car started to make a strange noise. You tried to power through it but to no avail. The car slowly came to a stop and would not turn back on. You screamed at the top of your lungs. When you looked back to the scenery in front of you, you can see two men walking towards you. "Everything good?" One of them said. "M-my car just broke down." You replied. "Ah yes, that often happens on this road. I'm Nubbins." The second man said as he smiled. "I'm sorry miss, I should've introduced myself. I'm Drayton. Nubbins and his brother are pretty good at cars and can get you on your way in no time. Would you like to come into the house to get away from this dreaded Texas heat while they work on your car?" "That would be great actually. I really appreciate the help. I'm Y/N." Nubbins stayed behind and Drayton walked you to the house. "We have a guest!" Drayton yelled as he lead you around the house and then finally lead you to the living room where an old man and another man with a mask. You sat down as Drayton explained what happend. Every now and again the other man, named Bubba, was always seeming to be staring at you. As soon as Drayton left, the old man spoke up. "Could you help me into th-" He started to ask with a smirk. "No." Bubba declared, which startled you. The old man began laughing, "Bubba seems to really like you."

Michael Meyers: You were stalked during your babysitting Your parents were going to a Halloween party and called you to come and babysit your little brother. You drove from your college to your childhood house and greeted your family as they waited for you in the living room. They handed you $20 for dinner and kissed you and your brother goodbye. You two ordered some pizza and fries and hung out for a little bit until you looked at your brother and told him that he needs to do his homework. "But why?" He begged. "Because I don't want to be yelled at for letting you get away with not doing homework. Besides, I'll do homework with you so you're not alone. After we're both done we can bake some Halloween cookies, deal?" He took and your hand and shook it, "Deal." "Alright kiddo, we got this." You two finished your homework about an hour and a half later and then once that was cleaned up you two started on the cookies. The cookies finished baking and you took them out of the oven and put them on a cooling rack. "Yo, who is that? Is that a friend of yours?" Your brother asked as he looked back out the window. "What are you talking about?" "Look!" You looked out the window to find some person in coveralls and a pale white mask, "I have no idea who that is, they're probably just trying to scare us." You grabbed a sandwich baggie and put some cookies in it and grabbed a handful of candy that was meant for tomorrow and you opened the door and looked in the direction the person was originally standing. "Halloween is tomorrow asshole, but I like your spirit. Here's some candy and cookies for the night. Make sure you stay warm, it's a bit chilly out." You placed the items on a little stool on your porch, "Have a goodnight." You said before you went inside. Michael was hiding in the woods, but suddenly felt this warmth inside him when he witnessed your kindness and just not being scared or freaked out by him.

Brahms Heelshire: You were looking after Brahms (in doll form, obvi) This goes right along with the movie, but before Greta. Forget Greta even happened.

Jason Voorhees: You were renting a cabin for the summer You just wanted a nice and peaceful summer, so you rented a cabin right by the popular Camp Crystal Lake a few towns over. You pulled up to your cabin and took a little tour before you started to bring your bags inside. Unbeknownst to you though, while you were bringing your bags inside, Jason was watching you bring your bags inside. Jason would normally be observing to kill but, he was intrigued by you. You weren't loud and partying, you didn't dress in only sleazy tops and short shorts. You were by yourself, quiet, kept to yourself. He watched as you finished unpacking and sat on the front porch and...just started to read a book . The wind was blowing your hair out of your face and you were smiling gently to yourself. Jason really liked that about you. You were different to the people he killed, and he liked and appreciated different.

Billy Loomis: He saw you at the local coffee shop You had just moved to Woodsboro with your parents. You moved because your father found a better studio to write for and so you all moved with him. You weren't one to complain, this could be worse, it could be a lot worse even. Once the final moving boxes were put away, you kissed your parents goodbye and heading to find some nice places around the town. You found some nice boutiques and parks and a beautiful movie theatre but you came across a really cute coffee shop and chose to stop by. You ordered a latte and a muffin and started to subtly people watch. Your eyes were caught on a boy who was already looking in your direction. You smiled at him and he smiled back and you finished your latte and you left. Stu was going on and on about how he should make a move, but Billy just watched you as you left the shop, a smile never leaving his face.

Stu Macher: You were assigned as partners for a project This was the final English project before midterms and you were just hoping that you didn't do all the work again. Your teacher was assigning groups aloud when she called your name, "You're working with Stu Macher." Kids snickered and the teacher shushed them all and you just slung your head back. "If you can get him to do his work, I owe you a spa day." Your best friend whispered in your ear. "You just earned yourself a bet!" You exclaimed in a whisper as you held you hand out to shake. The project was a breakdown of a book turned movie and the differences between the two. Class eventually ended and you packed up your things and headed straight to Stu's locker. You spotted him and made your way over. "Hey Stu, we got assigned as partners for an English. We can talk about the project tomorrow in class. I chose Psycho for our project, I think I remember you talking about it a few times so I hope you don't mind. See you tomorrow." You said with a smile as you walked away to your own locker.

Bo Sinclair: You stop for gas at his gas station You were on your way to visit some friends and had to make a quick pit stop to use the restroom and get gas. You pulled into this run of the mill gas station and went inside to use the restroom. Bo had been staring at you since you pulled up but you brushed it off thinking that it's just his job. You walked out after washing your hands and grabbed a few snacks on the way to the counter. You placed your items in front of the gas station attendant - Bo. "What is a pretty young thing doing here today?" He asked with a smirk. "Just making a pit stop while heading to see some friends." You replied with a smile. "Well they must be lucky to have a friend like you. How much do you want on your pump?" "$17 please." "Snacks are on me, as long as you give me your number." He said with a wink. You blushed and wrote your number down on some receipt paper and handed it to him. You grabbed your snacks and headed out to your car and then started to fill it up.

Vincent Sinclair: Bo takes you home to kill you You were just chilling at the local bar when gas station attendant Bo started to strike up a conversation with you. You two hit it off pretty well so you two decided to ditch the grimy club and head over to his place. Bo was a gentleman and opened all the doors for you. He gave you a brief tour of his house and led you to the living room, he had you sit on the couch and he asked if you wanted anything to drink. You said you only wanted a water and he smiled and went to the kitchen but there was immediately some commotion. Vincent came out to see Bo's newest victim, but when he looked at you he fell head over heels for you. Bo didn't like this, but Vincent never felt this type of way for anyone so Bo gave up his blood thirsty ideas. He came back with some water and said, "My brother Vincent thinks you're pretty and wants to get to know you." Bo said with a smile

#slashers #slasher #slasher preference #thomas hewitt #bubba sawyer #michael meyers #brahms heelshire #friday the 13th #billy loomis #stu macher #bo sinclair #vincent sinclair #preference #show-choir-gal

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quoththe-ravenn · 2 years

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🦴ANON BACK AGAIN YR THOUGHTS ON DA HOLIDAYS ARE SO RIGHT. i feel like alex gets offended abt st patricks day bc of the 'drunk irishman/scotsman' stereotype while being Completely oblivious to the Very Funny Fact that he literally is that stereotype. like hes all defensive like 'its not even realistic!! and its so offensive!' while the pc is just giggling bc he is literally a drunk redhead downing whiskey At That Very Moment. also i feel like wren would love halloween. if he was rich i feel like he would have one of those giant set ups all over his house to make it look super creepy from the outside. if he doesnt stay at home to give candy hes out there being the trick-or-treater thats WAY too old to be doing it and youre also pretty sure he's drunk but hes having a good time and deffo brags about the amount of candy he gets. also feels like the type of person to be really good at trading candy wih his friends so he only has the types he likes. if he stays at home i feel like he would make people 'prove their worth' to get candy? but its literally just like 'survive this jumpscare from the animatonic clown they sell at spirit halloween' or like 'get to the front door without crying bc of all of the scary decorations'. like yes he is an angel and the love of my life but he is also a little bastard who thinks its a little bit funny to see people get the shit scared outta them. probably the type to pull rlly elaborate pranks with their friends where they try to convince someone theyre haunted. doren and memorial day thoughts also: i think in england its rememberance day?? thats what we have in the rest of the commonwealth as well. i feel like he would be the type of english teacher to teach abt war poetry on that day and tear up a little when reading flanders fields outloud to the class. he teaches abt wilfred owens and other war poets and he seems Wayy Too Invested. (i too am a firm believer in puri's headcanon that he was ex-SAS). i feel like rememberence day would be the one time he would let something slip about his past life but then he would never mention it again. also bc the uk doesnt have thr fourth of july id like to respectfully change mason's fav holiday to guy fawkes day. u light a buncha shit on fire and then go do fireworks and go swimming with your friends. hes a little ashamed to admit it bc he wants to seem like a mature teacher but truth be told this university/high schooler's holiday is his favourite bc of the adrenaline rush and the excuse to go and party with his friends. winter likes it but only bc he wants to talk about the rebellion and the historical roots of guy fawkes day. however it is cool bc he will take u to the secret tunnels beneath the town in a 'recreation' of what guy fawkes himself had to do. ok oxoxo love your thoughts and they made me think my own thoughts so here they are. ily and i slobber all over your writing so much. sorry this was so long

THANK YOU FOR ALL THIS I ASKDGSLDHS LOVE IT.

Serious Big Brain ™ thoughts. I love Wren's Halloween idea!!! If he was rich I can see him doing a full on haunted house out of his house, making it a goal to personally scare everyone he knows.

Doren's makes so much sense!! Yeah I couldn't find any holidays for england bc I am dumb dumb.

Mason's is basically the same bc that's how the 4th of July is here, and Winter's makes so much sense!!!

Thank you for sending these in it helps me a bunch!! 💖💖

LAUGHING SO HARD AT ALEX TOO BC HE SO WOULD THE DUMBASS (affectionate)

#🦴 anon #degrees of lewdity #mason the swim teacher #doren the english teacher #wren the smuggler #alex the farmhand #others writing #everybody talks

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cobaincreates · 4 years

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eyes on fire

warnings: angst, smut, 18+

count: 9k+

i went ham on this because i personally needed it & yeah. wow look i actually posted something!!! love that for me & you if you enjoy this. feedback wouldn’t hurt love ya :)

listen to this

not my pic— but like imagine him with tHAT hair & fake blood on his face???? cya!

— — —

“woah, woah, wait…you’re telling me you didn’t cry at the thirteenth year?” you asked incredulously, trying not to run the car off the road. you saw the quick shake of the head of the person sitting beside you and tried not to gape. “ryan, we were together for a year and you’re just now telling me that you, not only lied to me, but that you did not cry at the thirteenth year?”

“why is that so shocking? it’s a cheesy movie.” ryan shrugged, lifting his hips in his seat to put his phone back in his pocket.

you rubbed your eyebrow exasperatedly. of course one of the single times you had recommended a movie to him— and he didn’t cry. you couldn’t believe it. “he gets to go back to his mother! how can you not shed a few tears?”

“i don’t know what you want me to say.” he laughed, annoyed.

“you have no heart.” you shook your head and turned your blinker on.

“you already knew that from dating me.” ryan poked you in the side, making your body jerk as you took the turn. “otherwise, you’d still be up my ass.”

“i think you’re mistaken. it was you who was up my ass.” you pointed between the two of you, keeping your eyes on the road.

ryan scrunched his face up and you caught a glance at it, giggling to yourself. it was so easy to mess with each other, even after breaking up. you were glad of that though since ryan was one of your best friends.

college was weird for anybody, especially someone like you who moved all the way across the country to go. california was like a fever dream now that you were back home, on an island. it was only for the weekend since that was about all you could take. it was halloween, although you hadn’t realized until ryan reminded you while on the plane.

now here you were, heading to a halloween party with ryan where he would inevitably meet your friends and people you went to high school with. it wasn’t that you were dreading it, you just had the idea of staying in for the night. especially a night like halloween when you could’ve handed out candy. as if ryan would want to do that in a new place.

“i swear if you throw up on my shoes this year, i’m removing you from my life.” ryan said as he shifted in his seat.

you flashed at another car to go before pressing down on the pedal. “i don’t think i’ll be drinking and driving this time. just don’t puke on my shoes otherwise you’ll be stranded.”

“i knew i shouldn’t have come with you, knowing that you would willingly leave me stranded on a fuckin’ island.”

“don’t test me, ry.” you sang just as you slowed the car along the crowded street. a couple of people dressed up walked in between the car in front of you and yours, heading toward the lively house.

multicolored lights lit up the windows and the outside of the house, the front room bathed in a deep red. you started to feel excitement bubble up in your stomach as you and ryan unfastened your seatbelts. a handful of trick or treaters passed on the walkway, some running around to scare others. you smiled to yourself as you put your car key in your pocket.

ryan’s arm settled around your shoulders as you walked up the driveway, a cool ocean breeze brushing over your face. this was something ryan still continued to do even though you had been broken up for months. it comforted you to know he was still just as protective of you as you were of him. it sort of became an unspoken pact of yours to just keep each other safe at parties or whenever you went out with friends back at school.

“i think we’re a bit underdressed.” ryan’s arm tightened around your neck, pulling you close so he could talk into your ear.

“only a little.” you hummed as you passed multiple people outside who all wore costumes. some zombies, some witches, a clown, even a whoopie cushion. at least you hadn’t come as that.

once inside, ryan’s arm slipped away from you as you both scanned the area. ryan was just curious while you were looking for your friends. the house was big so they’d be anywhere. the voices were much louder than the music, but you could still hear the halloween playlist playing. you stepped out of the way a couple times in the crowded entryway and eventually took ryan’s hand to bring him into the kitchen.

“y/n!” you heard and turned around to find ally, dressed as the infamous annie.

“you look ridiculous,” you laughed, ruffling her red wig and pulling her in for a hug.

“i always commit, don’t i?” she grinned before looking beside you at ryan. “hey! it’s so nice to finally meet you!”

they exchanged a quick hug, ally having seen ryan plenty of times through a phone screen. it was odd seeing them in the same room, right in front of you, but you smiled nonetheless.

“come with me! everyone else is in the front room.” she grabbed ahold of your hand quickly and started to pull you out of the room.

ryan touched your shoulder, making you and ally stop. “i have to pee.” he said, looking from you to ally in question.

“right over there.” ally said, pointing to your left. you could see down the hall that a few people were waiting, leaning against the wall.

moments later you were in your small alcove of friends, checking up on small talk and whatnot. ally was talking in your ear about some gossip in town and you really were listening, but also wondering if ryan would find his way to you or vice versa. your eyes scanned the room curiously, deciphering everyone’s outfits and costumes. you sort of loved halloween for that prospect, getting to be someone else. or something else— you supposed some people just really wanted to be a shark at times.

“she totally snubbed her!” ally said.

“are they talking anymore?” you asked, trying your best to continue the conversation.

“i haven’t heard anything, but the last time i saw them they were totally going at it!” her excitement grew drastically. her hand came down over your wrist. “i think she was saying...”

you were nodding along to ally’s reenactment, her words coming a thousand miles a minute. you completely lost track of what she was saying as you looked across the room at rafe cameron. without even thinking about it, your stomach twisted up and it felt like you couldn’t breathe. maybe there was too many people in the house.

rafe was tilting a bottle against his lips, head leaned back on the wall. he seemed to fit into the empty space beside a large entertainment area, but looked like he didn’t belong at the same time. he was staring right back at you, which in return only made your pulse quicken and your blood run hotter. from what you could tell from his costume, he had fake blood around his mouth that dripped onto a fine pressed white t-shirt. the fabric molded to his chest nicely and you swore you blacked out because the next moment, you saw ally peering at you.

“what?”

a shit-eating grin spread across her face. “you weren’t even listening, were you?”

“i was,” you said abruptly. you were glad of the red lighting as you felt the tips of your ears warm up. “the beginning anyways.”

ally laughed and nudged your side. “i get it, rafe cameron is much more interesting to pay attention to.”

“i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

ally gave you a knowing smile, peering past your shoulder. “come on, let’s go find ryan. you know how these people can easily swallow him up.” her hand grabbed yours again, pulling you directly through the crowd and in the same direction of where rafe was.

you kept your head down as you pushed through the mass of bodies, willing yourself not to make eye contact with him. it was a little difficult given that you had to pass right by him in order to get into the next room. topper, his best friend, had joined him now and he seemed to be talking into rafe’s ear about something. rafe was looking at you instead as you went by and you let out a big breath once you were by him.

there was no history between you and rafe cameron. absolutely nothing. maybe you had passed a paper to him in high school or were put into a group project with him, but that was it. you had never spoken to the infamous boy one-on-one. in high school, rafe was untouchable and you knew you weren’t even in range of his inner circle, or outer for that matter. frankly, you hadn’t even thought about him until now, seeing him again. growing up around someone like him and his family, you knew all of the stories. rafe was a complete and total heartbreaker.

ryan had managed to make some friends while only being at the party for a total of 20 minutes. really, you weren’t all that surprised seeing as that ryan could make friends with a horse. it was just in his nature to connect with people.

you found him in the entryway, sporting a drink in his hand and talking to a girl you recognized from gym class senior year. you couldn’t put a name to her face, but you gave a subtle wave and found a place on the other side of ryan. without looking at you, he put his drink out and you took a few sips before giving it back to him. ally had gone on her own path once you found him, saying she needed to find someone.

leaning against the wall, you pressed your hands against the cool surface. you didn’t bother listening in on ryan’s conversation, not wanting to intrude just in case he was trying to do more than talk. instead, you people watched, your eyes flitting across the party and the red room. the entryway was a deep blue, coating everything completely. you almost felt like you were in a movie of some sort.

you landed on rafe again, this time he was engaging in conversation with topper. he was off the wall, his finger against topper’s chest as he spoke. you swallowed and looked away just as he started to turn his head. part of you hoped he hadn’t caught you.

without thought, you pushed off the wall and went into the kitchen to finally get a drink. your mind felt like it was going 90 miles an hour and you needed to do something to busy yourself. you couldn’t just be a wallflower and people watch all night.

stirring up some concoction in the kitchen, it wasn’t rocket science to figure out who stepped into the room and came over to you. your stomach twisted up, which was a prime indicator. you kept your eyes on your cup and continued making your drink. it wasn’t like you to ignore someone’s presence, but you wanted to prove to yourself that you could handle it.

“y/n y/l/n.” a wave of shivers went up your shine. you had never heard him say your name before.

“rafe cameron.” you said in return and picked up your cup, taking a sip and turning to look up at him over the rim.

he gave you a smile. “long time, no see. you look good.”

your drink went down the wrong pipe, causing you to cough. rafe only smiled more. you cleared your throat and lowered your drink to your side.

“you look...messy.” you noticed the fake puncture marks on his neck, just under them was a lipstick print. you then looked at his mouth, red as red could be, and your ears warmed.

“what are you supposed to be?” you didn’t miss the way his eyes traveled up and down your body and you could’ve sworn they darkened. the kitchen had the normal yellow lights on, so there was no way any lighting altered his irises.

“didn’t have time to dress up.” you shrugged a shoulder. taking another sip, you kept eye contact with him.

“not even for halloween?” he teased and reached over you for another beer. you didn’t even flinch, watching his face move closer to yours. you stared right up into his eyes and help a gasp in. why was he getting you so flustered?

“i got in later than i thought.” you said simply, now breathing easier as he moved away and opened the beer.

rafe nodded, never once looking away from you. now you knew why some people saw him as intimidating. he looked like he would pounce on you at any second.

the next moment as people chatted and moved around the kitchen, rafe was gesturing with his head toward the entryway. “who’s the guy?”

you looked in the direction he meant and found ryan, smiling big while talking to the girl in front of him. he was leaned over her now and you knew that as a good sign. “ryan,” you told rafe.

“boyfriend?” he asked, and you held back the smile, wondering just why he wanted to know that.

“ex.” you didn’t miss the way he seemed satisfied with that answer, the smirk pulling at the corner of his lips.

“interesting.” he said and took another sip. he glanced at ryan while you continued looking at him. his hair was disheveled from its usual slicked back look and you kind of liked it better this way. to put it simply, he looked sexy.

“rafe!” you both looked over at topper who was making his way into the room. he pointed over his shoulder, cup in his other hand. “we’re going down to the beach, come on.”

“yeah, i’ll be right there.” he said and turned back to you, smiling again. topper met your eyes once until you looked up at rafe. “come with me?”

you thought about it, nearly saying yes until you remembered ryan. you didn’t want to leave without telling him, but you did want to see what they were doing on the beach.

“you go,” you nodded toward topper. “i’ll see you around.” with that, you turned and secretly hoped that rafe watched you go.

—

a game of flip cup never hurt anybody. you were well under way in your second round, on the opposite team of ryan and totally kicking ass. ally was beside you, currently downing her drink and proceeding to flip the cup perfectly. it was an innocent game that you had practiced back at school and ryan knew it all too well.

“see you on the floor,” you joked with him and held your cup out to him in cheers. his team was slacking, a current senior at your old high school having trouble flipping the cup.

ryan rolled his eyes, impatience seeping into his features. “i’ll be the one picking you up from the floor, y/l/n.”

you laughed while trying to keep all of the liquid in your mouth. you pushed it down swiftly, setting the plastic cup on the edge of the table and pushing up the bottom with one finger. it landed perfectly.

“fuck yes!” you threw your arms up in victory, high-fiving ally next to you. the game had gathered a group of on-lookers and they cheered for your team. ryan sulked.

a breeze blew over your shoulders, the salty smell filling your senses, as you stood outside. the night went on in full swing, the moon high up and the trick-or-treaters still out, wreaking havoc on the town. a fire in the small metal pit burned steadily, but you weren’t too far away to feel the pulsing heat. after this game, you planned on taking a break.

you had acquired a buzz so far, taking it slow so you could enjoy the party. for the most part you were and honestly, the little glances you caught from rafe were adding to it. he wasn’t trying to be sneaky about it at all and you liked that. it didn’t feel like he was following you around the party, but you did see him wherever you went. you supposed that small conversation in the kitchen had stuck with him, oddly.

standing at the table, you didn’t have to look to know where he was. maybe he thought he was being stealthy, standing near the back door, relaxed, hand in his pocket. all it would take was for you to look slightly to the right, but you held back for the sake of your own sanity. his stares had been driving you crazy. all you wanted to know was what the hell he was thinking. you could guess a couple things with the way he smirked or the way his eyes traveled over you, but you pushed those thoughts deep down. this was rafe cameron.

“my god, ryan you suck!” ally teased beside you now. you looked across the table at ryan who was struggling to flip the cup. ally laughed, holding her gut.

“since when can you not flip a cup?” you asked.

“shut the fuck up!” ryan said, trying to focus. you shook your head at him, grinning stupidly. it took him a couple tries before he finally got it and the turn went to someone else. he looked at you, huffing out a big breath.

“that was sad.” you said, crossing your arms over your chest.

“that was hilarious!” ally said.

“i need a fuckin’ drink.” he sighed.

“don’t quit now! we have to see you lose first.” ally brushed her hair out of her eyes, her annie wig now off and sitting somewhere in the house. just then you caught a glimpse of it through the window, someone trying it on for size. your eyes quickly swept over rafe, still in the same spot.

“i'm not playing anymore games after this.” ryan stated.

“no, come on! you said you’d be on my team for cornhole.” ally whined, the alcohol surely overtaking her senses. she wasn’t usually whiny.

“fuck cornhole.” ryan said just as your team cheered, having won the game. ryan gave you a nod and walked away, heading inside past rafe.

ally caught your attention before rafe could. “i'm freezing. let’s go sit by the fire for a little.”

you happily followed her, licking your lips and still tasting the beer. you both sat down on the cushioned loveseat, ally quickly throwing her legs over your lap. you took them in, setting your hands atop them. the heat was quick to run up your own legs and warmed you up instantly. burrowing yourself further into your sweatshirt, you let your muscles relax.

“i'm not a lightweight, am i?” ally asked.

you looked over at her from the sky, admiring how the fire illumiated the trees. you laughed lightly, patting her shins. “of course not.”

“you fucking liar.” she grinned and kicked your thigh. “i totally am. it’s fine, at least i always have a good time, right?”

“right.” you agreed. “you don’t make a fool of yourself, not at all.”

“shut up.” she laughed. “oh my god, you weren’t there!” she suddenly remembered. “topper had a party at his place a couple months ago and of course, knowing me i willingly went, not having anything else to do nor was my best friend here to entertain me or look out for me…” she eyed you teasingly.

“get on with it.” you rolled your eyes. deep down, you knew ally wasn’t that upset about you being so far away. sure, you had hoped to go to the same school, but she was the only person here who was pushing you to go further away.

“i think i had, maybe, two white claws—”

“oh god.”

ally laughed loudly, her back arching off the couch. “they’re so good! anyways, two in and i start crying about brie larson.”

“what about her?” your body started to shake with laughter even though you had no idea where this was going.

“have you seen her? have you seen that woman? she’s so goddamn beautiful, i can’t cope.” ally said exasperatedly. “it’s not fair that she doesn’t know who i am.”

“maybe someday.” you patted her knee. she started to roll her eyes, but you were quick to stop her. “you never know! crazy shit happens these days.”

ally didn’t say anything, reaching for an itch on her thigh. you looked back up at the sky above and relished in the warmth. suddenly, you felt ally tense up. you lifted your head and looked at her worriedly. she was looking past you and she lifted her legs to sit up.

“crazy shit, indeed. rafe is coming over here. act normal.”

you opened your mouth, no words coming out. she sat up quickly and tidied herself as rafe stopped beside you. you looked up at him, finding that same dumb smile. his fake blood hadn’t even come off yet— what the hell was it?

“hey, rafe.” ally said, way too high pitched.

“hey. mind if i steal y/n for a little?” he brushed his hair back and pointed at you.

“not at all.” ally said too quickly and stood up. “i was just going to get another drink.”

rafe nodded and let her pass. he moved to take her seat beside you as you looked after her, bulging your eyes. she opened her mouth in a fake excited scream, no sound coming out. you swallowed thickly and looked over at rafe. his elbows were perched on his knees, giving you a nice view of his back, muscles tight under his shirt.

“what’s up?” you half-whispered, getting your voice back.

he smiled at you, slightly turning into a smirk. “i was just wondering if you wanted to play a game of beer pong with me. top’s almost finished with his game.” he gestured to the kitchen inside where you could see the boy in question’s arms shoot up as he cheered.

“what’s the catch?” you asked, looking back over at him. why would rafe cameron ask you, specifically, to play a game of beer pong with him if there wasn’t a catch?

“does there have to be one?” he inquired, lifting a brow.

“with you, yes.” you said confidently, not having a clue where it came from. you had never talked to him this way— or ever, you reminded yourself.

rafe stared at you incredulously then let out a small laugh. he breathed in, glancing at the fire. you watched the side of his face, seeing how the fire flickered over his features and showed off how smooth his clean-shaven cheek looked. you wondered what it felt like.

before you could wonder anything else, he looked back over at you. the smile was partially gone, all teasing now. “if i win…you come down to the beach with me.”

you searched his face, a heavy feeling pooling in the bottom of your stomach. you shivered slightly and sat up to be a bit closer to him. his eyes followed you carefully. “and if i win?” the confidence came easier now.

you didn’t miss the slight lean he made toward you, the fire catching in his eye. “name your terms.”

you didn’t once look away as you thought about something you could get, had you won the little game. it took a lot in you not to let your eyes stray further down his face, no matter how distracting the fake blood was. you had never had such intense eye contact with anyone and if you had been thinking about it, you knew you would surely look away. now, experiencing it, you didn’t feel the nervousness or desire to look away.

“hm,” you hummed, willing yourself not to press your lips together once he let his eyes flicker down to them. “if i win you give me a piggyback ride to the beach.”

it struck you then just how beautiful his smile really was. the way his eyes lit up, crinkled a little. he laughed and nodded. “deal.”

—

“i know i won, very fairly might i add, but i am sorry for completely wrecking you in that game.” rafe said.

“god, it’s like your ego grew ten times bigger.” you teased, crossing your arms over your chest to warm up from the breeze. it picked up much more as you grew closer to the beach. the waves were loud as you anticipated feeling the sand on your now bare feet, your shoes left on the back patio. it was cold once you reached it.

you stopped a ways away from the water, closing your eyes for a moment. you missed this, you missed the wind, the smell, the sand. you could see a flash of memories across your eyelids, days spent at this very beach, sand getting in places it shouldn’t, and building monster sandcastles with your family. sure, california had beaches too, but nothing like the ones at home.

when you opened your eyes, you couldn’t see rafe in your peripheral view. you turned, finding him standing a few feet from you, his hands in his pockets. he smiled softly and gestured with his head. “you want to walk?”

“is that what you brought me down here for? a walk?” you said, a playful smile pulling at your lips.

“well, it’s much too cold to swim, unless you like getting hypothermia.”

“shared body heat prevents that, you know.” you turned back around, watching the water reach the sand and smiling to yourself at your remark. you hugged yourself tighter against the wind and took a seat on the sand, pulling your legs to your chest.

rafe appeared next to you a moment later as he sat. you didn’t look over at him or say anything, not knowing what exactly to say. you had a faint idea of why he wanted to be alone here, it was partially secluded, and dark enough to see the person in front of you. you wondered what he was thinking.

“back in high school i used to think i'd never get off this island. but being back now, i don’t want to leave.” you said, unsure of what it was that made you do so.

“i still haven’t left.” rafe said, laughing to himself. “at this point, it seems like i never will.”

your eyebrows furrowed and you looked over at him. “what do you want to do? with your life?”

he met your eyes, then looked back at the water and shrugged. letting out a breath, he threw a bit of sand in front of him. “no clue. i think i just need to get out and go somewhere for a little while. maybe that will help me figure it out.”

“i'm sure you will.” you said. “sometimes, that’s all it takes, is leaving. hell, if i didn’t leave and go to california, i wouldn’t have realized how much this place is in me. like, i'm meant to be here, you know?”

rafe fumbled with the sand in front of his crossed legs, then brushed it off on his pants. you watched him for a moment then looked the opposite way, biting your lip. your stomach was twisting again.

“how come we didn’t talk in high school?”

you forced yourself to blink a few times, questioning reality and if he actually asked that. you looked at him, confused and accusatory. “you never gave me the time of day.”

“so it’s all on me?” he laughed, giving you an odd look now.

“well, no. actually yes!” you said rather harshly. “you were the king, rafe cameron. i mean, not much has probably changed since i've been gone so you probably still are.”

“what does that mean?” he questioned.

“it means,” you sighed, becoming frustrated. “that everyone flocks to your beck and call. i certainly had no desire to do so back then, no matter how popular you were.”

“popularity doesn’t mean anything.”

“well, it certainly did to you, otherwise maybe we would’ve been friends.” you chided. he looked away from you, quite shocked at your words. you wanted to roll your eyes, of course he hadn’t changed since high school. he still expected everyone to fall on their knees for him.

you both sat in silence for a few minutes. the energy had changed and you wondered if you ruined the night. then again, why would it matter if you did? you were going back to california in a couple days anyways and you probably would forget all about this. but it still bugged you.

“what’s so different now?” you asked, the wind howling.

“what do you mean?” he asked, less annoyed. his features were smoother, now genuine curiosity in his eyes as you looked at him.

you gave him a look, one to say that he should know better. “sure seems like you’re interested.”

“what makes you think that?” he squinted, teasing. you were glad of this change.

“oh, i don’t know…you did a lot of staring.”

“so did you.”

you bit the inside of your lip, trying not to smirk. “why, i have no idea.” you said quietly to yourself, but rafe had heard you loud and clear over the wind.

you sighed to yourself and stood up, brushing the sand from your bottom. rafe looked up at you curiously and almost sadly. you looked back at the house, very much alive.

“i should go check up on ryan.”

—

ryan’s arm hung loosely over your shoulders, your body shaking with his as he laughed. he seemed to be getting on really well with complete strangers. you were happy for him.

if a stranger walked in right now, saw you sitting on the couch, surrounded by laughing friends and people you knew of, they would probably wonder why you looked like you didn’t want to be there. to be frank, you looked completely miserable. you were completely detached from reality, going over and over in your head the conversation you had with rafe on the beach. it wasn’t even eleven o’clock yet, and you were now begging the question, when are we leaving?

“did you want to leave soon?” you asked ryan when he looked over at you, smiling happily. you bit the inside of your lip, scolding yourself for even asking the question when he looked so elated.

“i'm alright.” he shrugged. “are you not having fun?”

the conversation still went on without him, it now feeling as if it was just the two of you. you shook your head quickly and put on a subtle smile. “no, no, i'm okay. just checking with you.”

“okay,” he nodded and squeezed you against him.

you let the smile slowly disappear once he engaged back with everyone else. you looked down at your lap, playing with your fingers. maybe you should find ally, you were sure she was doing something fun and time-consuming. that’s what you needed, was something to do to pass the time until ryan wanted to leave.

placing a hand on his knee to push you up, you told him you were going to find ally. he gave you a nod, taking a sip from his cup. you excused yourself past some people and started to look around for ally in each room. you didn’t spot her inside after a few minutes of looking so you wandered outside, maybe she had fallen asleep near the firepit. when you didn’t see her, you figured she was down at the beach. you could hear some distance screams of joy and laughter from that direction and could immediately imagine ally running around crazily.

giving up on your search for now, you took a seat at the fire again. you leaned close to it, watching the flames move. picking up the poker beside the sofa, you poked and prodded at the charring wood, sending little embers floating up. you watched as they disappeared, looking as if they would join the stars in the sky.

you weren’t sure how much time passed as you lost yourself in staring into the fire and feeling its radiating warmth on your cheeks. before you knew it, rafe sat down next to you.

you snorted. “you again? it’s like you’re obsessed with me now.”

“i came to get warm, i don’t know what you’re talking about.” rafe said, holding his palms out to soak it in.

“sure,” you hummed with a nod.

“you have a nice smile.”

you stared back at rafe, the smile in question dropping. speculation brewed in your mind.

“you’re staring again.” he said, the corner of his lips curving upward.

“what do you want from me, rafe?” you asked.

his smile dissipated as well before reappearing, trying to lessen the tension growing. “do i have—?”

“just be honest with me.” you interrupted. you were growing impatient and you could feel yourself starting to close up. no matter how much you enjoyed that lustful feeling for him all night, you wanted answers. “tell me what you want.”

never had you seen rafe cameron at a loss for words. it only boosted your confidence and you held the teasing giggle down. you never broke eye contact as he opened his mouth, searching for words. you raised your eyebrows at him, waiting.

“do you want to fuck me? is that it?” you prompted.

rafe swallowed very noticeably, the fire catching on his adam’s apple. “you don’t seem the type to be so straight forward.” he said as you put the fire poker down and turned to him, leaning over on your arm.

“you barely know me, remember?” your confidence was coming back as you placed your hand on rafe’s mid-thigh. he looked down at it then back up at you in surprise, his mouth ajar. you didn’t try to hide looking at it now as your heart raced.

“i've been wanting your mouth all night, rafe cameron.” you licked your own lips hungrily, your pulse picking up. you moved your hand to his face, feeling the smoothness you so craved to feel earlier in the same spot. you ran your thumb over his lips, gauging his reaction.

“fuck.” as if he hadn’t been wrapped around your finger before, he certainly was now. his hand appeared on your thigh, moving up to your waist to pull you closer.

your lips met suddenly, catching rafe off guard as his hand went to your face, holding it steady against his own. you instantly tasted the corn syrup of the fake blood coating his lips. you didn’t particularly enjoy the taste, but you liked the taste of him. he groaned at the contact of your tongue, opening his mouth for you to tangle with his. his jaw was strong in your hand, his skin soft. his thumb brushed your cheek roughly, trying to pull you closer. you smiled against him and pulled back in competition.

“y/n?” you pulled away abruptly from rafe, looking over your shoulder at ryan. you tried to steady your breathing as he awkwardly looked from you to rafe. “uh, ally is inside and she kinda hurt herself.”

of course, you thought. you licked your lips, your heartbeat pulsing under the surface of the sensitive skin. you felt rafe’s hands slip away as you stood up and started to follow ryan inside. you didn’t look back in fear of running back to jump his bones.

“who was that?” ryan whispered to you, not yet through the back door. “sorry i interrupted such a good moment.” he laughed.

“shut up,” you elbowed him and walked inside.

ally was sat in the kitchen, bleeding from her leg. you quickly aided her, inquiring what happened and what she did to be such a klutz. apparently, she thought it would be a good idea to live up to her dancer dreams and get up on the counter. obviously, it didn’t end well.

“totally worth it.” she slurred. you shook your head with a smile as you cleaned her up on the bathroom floor.

you wiped the blood off her skin, throwing the toilet paper in the waste bin next to you. rummaging for band aids as she drunkenly yapped on about her endeavor, you pulled the plastic wrappers off one by one and applied them to the long cut on her leg.

“i think you’re down for the count tonight,” you told her, smoothing the band aid down.

“okay, mom.” she dramatized, making a snide face at you with her eyelids closed.

“you can’t even keep your eyes open, dude. you’re done.” you laughed and helped her up. “good thing you live here.”

pulling her arm around your shoulders, you left the bathroom and brought her upstairs. her bedroom door was closed, along with all of the rooms, and thankfully no one was inside. you pulled her shoes off and didn’t bother with her dress.

“i want to go back downstairs.” she whined.

you rolled your eyes and pulled the covers over her. “the sun will come out tomorrow, annie. sweet dreams.” you kissed her forehead, noticing already how she started to drift off.

making your way downstairs, you watched as a group was heading out for the night. they closed the door behind them, the people in the entryway saying goodbye like a chorus. turning off the last step, you ran right into a very solid body. hands grabbed ahold of your waist to steady you and you looked up, seeing ryan.

“hey,” he said. “is she okay?”

“yeah. i put her to bed.” you nodded up the stairs and took a step back from him.

“i'm ready to go whenever you are.” he said.

your stomach dropped. you instantly thought about rafe, wanting nothing more than to find him and kiss him again. just as you thought this, he appeared in the entryway behind ryan. you glanced at him then back at ryan. “i'll meet you at the car?” you said and pulled out the key to give him. he nodded without a word and walked around you to the door.

“hey—” you started to say, meeting rafe halfway until he maneuvered you up against the wall, his lips quick to get to yours. you moaned softly into his mouth, reaching around him to pull him against you. he reciprocated this action, pushing his hips flush against yours. you broke away from him, breathing harshly.

“i have to go,” you said quietly, looking directly at rafe’s lips, feeling your eyelids weighted with lust.

rafe didn’t look pleased about that, rather annoyed really. his hand rested just at the side of your neck, his other under your top to grip your waist. “can’t you stay for a little while longer?”

you shook your head, smiling softly. “guess you should’ve made your move sooner.”

rafe grunted and pulled you back to him, his tongue slipping into your mouth. you welcomed it, running your hand over his chest, feeling how fast his heart was beating too. that alone was nearly enough to pull you in and make ryan wait, but you pushed on the firm chest, breaking apart from him once more.

“i really do have to go, rafe.”

—

picking up the jar, you read over the label. organic honey. now that you thought about it, you didn’t have any back at school. one jar wouldn’t hurt.

“i’ll take this please.” you said, setting it down on the table. the man on the other side nodded and took the few bills you held out to him. you thanked him for it, picking up the jar and your change and moving to the next stand.

ever since you could remember, you had gone to the farmer’s market every year. it was something you liked to do, something that involved the community you grew up in. there were so many selections and stands and things for you to look at that you could spend hours there. if you weren’t with ryan, you just might have been there until closing time.

ryan was across the way, checking out some older books that the library was giving away. you stopped beside him, peering into the crate he was looking in. eventually you moved on to the next stand, neither of you finding anything worth picking.

“so, what are we up to tonight?” ryan asked on the way back to the house, your jar of honey in his lap.

you felt your ears grow warmer, opening your mouth. “i was thinking of going over to a friend’s house.”

“ally’s? that’ll be fun.” he looked over at you, smiling slightly.

you glanced at him, opening and closing your mouth a few times. “no. uh, rafe’s. just me.”

“oh,” ryan drawled out, nodding slowly.

“i'm sorry. if you really don’t want me to go since you’ll be alone and have nothing to do, i can stay in and we can figure something out. you know what, let’s just do that?” you decided, waving it off.

“y/n, breathe.” ryan laughed. “i'm fine staying alone. you go to rafe’s.”

“are you sure? i can stay in, we can go eat at the wreck. you haven’t tried it yet!”

“we’re not leaving until tomorrow night. we can just get food then. it’s not a big deal. don’t stay in on my account, please. go to rafe’s.” he encouraged.

you couldn’t tell if he was really okay with it or if he felt differently. you had been thinking about it all day, replaying the kisses from last night and the way it felt to have rafe’s hands on you. your heart beat in other places now as you thought about it again. you shifted in your seat as you pulled onto your road. you thanked ryan as you got out of the car and went into the house.

—

dinner passed quickly. you pushed yourself to eat slowly, to actually spend time with your family and have them get to know ryan. a part of you still felt bad about leaving him alone there, no matter how many times he kicked your foot under the table.

now you were staring at yourself in the mirror, killing time doing nothing. you hadn’t done anything different about your appearance, you just showered and sprayed a bit of perfume. and you brushed your teeth. god, what was wrong with you? where was the confidence from last night? maybe it went out the window at the very prospect of driving to rafe’s house and going to see him. you had never done that before, you’d never been there, you’d never seen what it was like. plus, what if he wasn’t home? what were you going to do then? you didn’t have his number, although ally could easily get it for you.

no. no. you needed to stop. you had to do this before you left for california and regretted not going to rafe’s house. taking in a deep breath, you straightened yourself up and huffed. you said goodbye to ryan in the spare bedroom across the hall and he gave you a thumbs up, resulting in you rolling your eyes.

it didn’t take that long of a drive to pull up to the cameron’s estate. it was huge, you thought. you stared at the white exterior and felt not at all intimidated. turning off the car and willing yourself to get out, you walked up to the front door in determination and knocked. you practiced breathing to calm your nerves as you waited. it took a few minutes until the door opened and you breathed in sharply.

expecting someone completely different, you were met with a small girl no more than 14. you couldn’t recall if rafe had two sisters, you just knew of the one.

“can i help you?” she raised her eyebrows under the black rimmed glasses.

“hi.” you paused for too long and breathed. “uh, is rafe here?”

“he’s out. and you are?”

you lifted your own brows at her territorial posture, arms crossed. “i'm y/n. a friend of rafe’s. um, do you know when he’ll be back by any chance?”

her shoulders loosened as she grabbed onto the door handle. “sometime soon, i think. you’re welcome to wait.” she stepped aside, letting you in. you gave her a thankful smile, wanting to tell her that she was calming your nerves considerably.

“thank you. what’s your name?”

“wheezie. i'm rafe’s younger sister.” she closed the door solidly, pulling a phone out of her back pocket.

“it’s nice to meet you. i appreciate you letting me wait for him.” you rubbed your hands on your thighs, trying to get rid of the sweat.

she nodded with her eyes locked on the screen. “yeah, no problem. i actually have to leave, so…” she said and grabbed a coat from the chair behind the door. she opened it again and went to leave, but poked her head back in. “don’t steal anything.”

opening your mouth to protest, the door closed with a satisfied thud, echoing through the empty house. you glanced around, not knowing where to put yourself. you took a few steps and poked your head around the doorway, finding a huge kitchen with a few lights left on. you turned back around and looked up the stairs, figuring that was your best bet. just before you stepped onto them, you took your shoes off.

rafe’s room was pretty obvious what with the posters of random semi-naked women. you rolled your eyes at the typical male and wandered further in. his walls were a dark blue, black bedding messy on the mattress. some clothes were thrown on the floor, a desk with a monitor set up on it and some old dishes. you itched to clean it, but that would’ve been weird.

just as you were looking at the little knick-knacks on his dresser, you heard a door shut. you placed one of his rings down and waited expectantly in the center of his room, still not knowing where to put yourself. his footsteps were fast on the stairs, almost as if he were skipping two at a time. your stomach twisted when he appeared in his doorway.

“how’d you get in here?” he asked first, closing the door slowly behind him and switching on the overhead light. you took in his appearance, enjoying the backwards hat paired with a sweatshirt and sweatpants. you snapped out of it, realizing he was still waiting for an answer.

“uh, wheezie, was it? she let me in. and then she left.” you stated, twiddling your fingers against your thighs.

rafe nodded and moved away from the door, taking his hat and sweatshirt off. turning back to you, he brushed a hand through his hair then set them on his hips. “what are you doing here?”

“i think you know.” you refrained from rolling your eyes, letting out a laugh to lessen your nerves and to mask how much you were hoping not to be turned down.

rafe pressed his lips together, looking behind you for a second and taking a couple steps forward. you looked up at him, feeling the soft puffs of his breath on your face. “tell me what you want. be honest with me.”

you laughed at your own words from last night and looked at him under your lashes. you took a brave step forward, feeling his body heat. “i want you to kiss me like last night.”

rafe looked down at your lips, moving his face closer. you watched him, anticipating it and closing your eyes. you didn’t feel anything other than his hands lightly touching your waist. you opened your eyes to look up at him, to see what he was doing and why he was making you wait when you just told him what you wanted. he smiled lightly and looked over your face.

“and then what?”

you moaned and pulled him forward by his shirt, grabbing fistfuls of it in satisfaction. his mouth was warm and inviting against yours and you tried to think of what he smelled like, like salt and clean laundry. he tasted much better now that you could only taste him and not that god awful corn syrup.

you pulled away for a moment, sticking your tongue out to lick at his lips teasingly. his fingertips poked into your sides, pulling you closer and back against his mouth. you smiled against him and let go of his shirt to pull it off. instead of returning to your lips, rafe put his against the side of your throat, lightly nipping at the skin. you pulled your jacket and shirt off, rafe helping you swiftly. he continued his ministrations on your neck, holding you upright while you let your head fall back.

a gasp escaped your lips as rafe grabbed your hand from his stomach and placed it over his bulge. you hadn’t realized how prominent he was in the past few moments. you looked over his face as he pressed his forehead against yours, guiding your hand over him.

“do you feel that?” he huffed.

your legs practically turned to mush as you felt him, growing stiff in his sweats. you hummed, nodding against his head. without asking you or prompting you, you slid your hand from under his into his pants. the warmth radiated like the fire from last night, your own pooling between your legs. rafe let out another breath as you wrapped your hand around him, exploring.

“that feels good.” he whispered and tugged your body closer, a hand cupping your backside. you reached to press a kiss against his jaw, his head moving to give you more access. you made a quick trail and pressed a final kiss to the base of his neck, right over his clavicle.

as much as you didn’t want to, you pulled away, your own need growing by the second. you pushed his pants down with his boxers, trying to hold yourself together from not jumping on him then and there. he watched your face closely as he stepped out of his pants. swallowing, you pushed your own bottoms down and just as you were reaching for your underwear, rafe pushed you onto his unmade bed.

starting at your mouth, rafe kissed you fully and hungrily, sparing nothing. you wanted to hold him there, especially when he rutted his hips against yours, eliciting a high moan. you quivered at the feeling of him so close and you would’ve reached for your underwear then if he hadn’t left your lips and slowly started to make his way down.

“keep making those noises, y/n.” his breath blew over your chest and you obliged as his lips pressed against one of your breasts.

“rafe, please.” you touched his head and lifted your legs around him.

he lifted from your stomach with a smile. “what?”

“hurry up.” you begged, out of breath. he chuckled, kissing you lightly on the lips and moving back to what he was doing. you groaned but lifted onto our elbows to watch. he pressed a few more kisses to your stomach and just as he was going to the next spot, you raised your hips, teasing him. he laughed, his breathing tickling your sensitive skin.

his hands took ahold of your hips and held them down on the bed, his fingers warm and strong. you swallowed thickly, your eyelids nearly closing as a kiss was pressed directly over where your excitement had pooled. you let out a whine, low from your throat, and met rafe’s dark eyes.

“you’re so wet.” he said, letting go of one hip to replace where his mouth just was. you lifted your hips again, letting your head fall back at the pleasure that shot through you. rafe pressed his fingers firmly, moving slowly in circles. “is this how you were last night?”

“yes, yes.” you sighed, dropping onto your back. “fuck, rafe, please just take them off. please.”

he pushed against your clit abruptly, practically pushing the breath out of your chest. he obliged though, you felt his fingers slip between the material and your hips before he tugged them down. you opened your eyes as the bed shifted. rafe held himself over you, reaching into the nightstand and pulling out a condom. you leaned up to pull your bra off as he opened the small package and put it on.

“how do you want me?” you asked, still out of breath, reaching for him.

rafe smiled, his hands coming down on either side of your head to hold himself up. “just like this.”

his hair tickled your forehead as he lined himself up and took your mouth against him. you broke the kiss, moaning as he pushed in slowly.

“fuck.” you gasped, holding onto his hip.

“are you okay?” he asked after letting out a low grunt.

“yes,” you nodded, reaching up to kiss him. “i need you to move.”

rafe did as requested and moved slowly, starting a rhythm. his hand closed around a breast, your legs opening wider for him as his hips met yours continuously. you tried your best to keep your lips against his, reveling in the warmth and taste, but you found yourself pulling away and getting lost in what he was doing to you. you started to focus on his breathing, his low grunts, his moans that sent shivers up the back of your thighs. you relished in it.

“i'm glad we didn’t do this last night.” you laughed to yourself, out of breath.

“fuck,” he said. “i was pissed when you left, i ended up coming here just to jack off.”

you laughed again, reaching a hand up to his hair to tug at. you pulled his mouth to yours momentarily until he broke away and moved to your chest. “rafe, harder.” you pleaded, tugging on his hip.

he moaned against your chest, the vibrations going all the way to where he was pushing into you. you let out your own noise, louder than any before, as he picked up the pace and tried to hit you deeper. it wasn’t quite working so you lifted your knee up higher, digging your heel into his backside.

rafe softly bit down on your nipple, massaging the other one. it lost the warmth a second later as rafe let go and grabbed ahold of your leg, the smacking of your skin becoming louder. letting go of his hair, you held his other hip, digging your fingernails in.

“rafe,” you panted. rafe’s hips were going at an alarming rate, but you had never felt so good. he knew exactly what he was doing. “rafe, i'm close.”

rafe let go of your leg and moved his hand down your stomach to find your clit. his thumb brushed it, causing you to cry out. his breath was coming out in pants now too, with each stroke. he looked down at you, your expression of pure bliss as your eyes screwed shut and contorted. you bit your lip, something you didn’t realize drove him crazy. he moved his thumb in fast circles with the pace of his hips and soon enough, you were squeezing his hips and crying out in high pitched tones. the sound alone brought rafe closer.

“fuck, fuck.” you felt him twitch as he grabbed onto your hip, his steady thrusts now stuttering.

you were still riding out your own high, but you reached up with a shaky hand and touched his cheek. he opened his eyes then at the new contact, his mouth ajar, lips swollen.

“rafe, cum. i need you to cum.” you pleaded, licking into his lips with a kiss. he groaned, hips stuttering again then stilling completely as he emptied into the condom. you moaned at the sound, wishing that he was emptying into you. you wished you could feel how warm he was when he coated your walls. god, just the thought had you ready to go again.

rafe moaned as he slid out of you and flipped over onto his back. you licked your lips, still tasting him as you caught your own breath. your skin was sticky and sweaty, but you liked it knowing who it was from. looking over at him now, he was spent and tired, his chest moving with gulps of breath.

“well, i know you better now.” he said, making you laugh.

“right back at ya, rafe cameron.”

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #outer banks #fanfic #fanfiction #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x fem!reader

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marvelslut16 · 3 years

Text

Inseparable

Pairing: Reggie Mantle x reader

Synopsis: Reader and Reggie have been best friends since they were toddlers, nothing tearing them apart until Veronica their Junior year. This follows the rise and downfall of their friendship. Can they mend their friendship and be back to what they once were, will they be too hurt to fix their broken hearts, or will they finally admit their feelings for one another?

Word count: 2.6K+ (my hand slipped)

Warnings: Mr. Honey; he’s the worst villain to ever enter Riverdale, you can’t change my mind. Mentions of child abuse, nothing graphic past the mention of a black eye. Some angst. Spoilers for s4e4 technically, I still can’t believe what Mr. Honey did.

A/N: I have like 11 requests I still have to get to, yikes. I swear I’ll do them soon, but inspiration hit and I ended up writing this. there isn’t enough Reggie love on Tumblr, plus I have a tiny crush on Charles Melton, so writing this was a win win. let me know what you think, and if I should write more for Riverdale. Veggie is better than Varchie (don’t come for me), but I still think Reggie deserves better than Ronnie.

Growing up in a small town like Riverdale there weren’t too many kids to become friends with, but when you met Reggie Mantle on your first day of preschool you knew he would be your best friend for life. Archie was showing off on the playground by walking up the slide when the teacher wasn’t looking. The problem then being that Archie's foot slipped right as you were walking passed the bottom of the slide, and he slid down and ended up knocking you on the ground. You started to cry because he scraped your arm bad enough that it started to bleed. Reggie, whom you shared a table with in class, watched from the sidelines as your teacher helped you up and took you to the nurse, he got his revenge during arts and crafts later that day- ‘accidentally’ spilling red paint all over the front of Archie’s khaki pants. When Reggie made it to the table you quietly thanked him and shared your paint with him since the teacher said he couldn’t have new paint as a lesson to be more careful next time.

As the years went on, yours and Reggie’s friendship only grew until you were inseparable; you two went on family vacations together, you went to every single one of his junior bulldog football games from the ages of eight to twelve, he went to your ballet recitals when you took classes in grade school even bringing you roses. Reggie was your rock at your grandmother’s funeral, you helped him pass his geometry class Sophomore year so he could stay on the football team, and you were the only person that he opened up to about his father’s abuse- having witnessed it with your own eyes a handful of times.

Your mom was convinced you and Reggie would fall in love and get married one day, and your father was convinced your friendship would crumble and ultimately go down in a blazing fire. Going into your senior year you hate to admit that your father was right, his words bouncing around in your skull every time your brain shut off for longer than two seconds. Veronica Lodge moved to town Sophomore year, enticing every boy within a fifty mile radius with her upper East side charm. Reggie didn’t fall for Veronica right away, he fell for her junior year when he was helping her with La Bonne Nuit. And as cliche as it is, that’s when you realized you were in love with him, you had been for a while. The small nagging voice in the back of your head told you that it had been since that day in preschool.

But you would grin and bear the pain, the soul crushing pain, if it meant that Reggie would still be in your life. And you did, for a while at least; until Reggie stopped calling and texting you back, until he stopped begging you to come to his games, until he stopped sneaking into your room every friday night after a game to go over the play footage where you would help him come up with new plays and tweaks to the old ones, until he started ignoring you in the halls in favor of making out with Veronica. You never hated the girl, she had been nothing but nice to you anytime you would interact, but God, you just wished she would disappear and give you your Reggie back.

You resented Veronica, leading your interactions with the girl to be more tense and your answers clipped, and that was what led to the blazing fire your father talked about. Reggie offered you a ride home one day after school, and of course you jumped at the opportunity to spend time with him again. Instead of going to pops and talking like you thought you would, the two of you got into your biggest, and last, fight ever.

It started with Reggie asking why you hated Veronica, where you defended yourself and swore that you didn’t. But he wouldn’t believe a word that came out of your mouth, continuing to press you as you two kept driving. The closer you got to the edge of town the worse the fighting got, your voice raising along with his. You accuse him of abandoning his friends, abandoning you, to be with Veronica all the time. He gets mad that you don’t understand why he’s with her all the time, claiming that you couldn’t understand not when you’ve never had a boyfriend. Something that he’s the reason for, since he scared all of the guys even remotely interested in you away with just one piercing glare or one lowly growled threat.

The comment picking on your relationship status, or lack thereof, is the straw that broke the camel's back. You let loose just as you pass the sign thanking you for visiting Riverdale, the town with pep. Pep your ass, the small town is full of death and endless heartache wherever you look. You rip into Reggie, letting the hurt take over as you scream and scream at him-calling him a terrible friend. He finally screams back, claiming that you’re worse because you hate his girlfriend. He has to pull his precious car over, the car you helped him pick out when he turned sixteen, because he started swerving when you two got into a screaming match.

The interaction ends with you getting out of the car on the side of the road leading into Greendale, slamming the car door behind you, knowing that he’ll get mad with how aggressive you’re being with his baby, his Bella. He does a sharp U-turn driving beside you, trying to coax you into getting back in the car with him. But you can’t do that, you can’t face him right now. So as you watch the taillights of the gun metal grey Chevelle disappear around the curve in the road you finally let the tears fall down your face, they stream harder and faster the closer you get to reentering the town with pep.

Reggie had dropped your backpack off at your house when he got back into town, so it was sitting there waiting for you in your living room alongside your worried mother. You cried into her arms that night for hours, until you were all cried out, not caring that you look like a big baby. You had just lost Reggie, you had just lost your everything. You hadn’t talked to him since that day in the middle of your junior year, even after him and Veronica broke up and she went back to Archie like always. The days of your senior year seemed to fly by, October coming in what felt like mere days as opposed to months, and your last Halloween in Riverdale is today.

You and Reggie would always wear matching costumes to trick or treat, and school just for fun as you got older, this always prompted your classmates to wonder if you two were finally dating. But that wouldn’t be happening this year, for the first time ever. You had even dressed up and sat on his porch in costume when you were six, handing out candy to the other kids so you could talk to Reggie, who was in costume too, through the window because he was sick with a 102.2 degree fever. You were dressed as Kim and Ron that year, his mom had even crocheted him a little Rufus to stick in his pocket. You couldn’t wait to get out of this town, away from Reggie, away from the places where you would see ghosts of your younger selves everywhere you went.

Kevin calls you freaking out after he and Reggie got caught tp’ing Mr. Honey’s office. Kevin caved after Mr. Honey threatened to make sure he wouldn’t get into NYU if he didn’t. Kevin felt guilty for his actions, and even though you hadn’t talked to Reggie in close to a year you were worried about him. Worried what his dad might do to him when he hears he got in trouble at school again, and worried what the unhinged Mr. Honey might do to him himself.

You don’t hear anything from Reggie the next day, not that you really expect to. You more-so hope he’ll call you, but you know what they say about hope- it breeds eternal misery. The day goes by at a snail's pace as you stare at your phone throughout the entirety of said day. You finally curl in on yourself and go to sleep after midnight, however sleep doesn’t stay for long. You’re awoken around two in the morning from your phone’s incessant ringing, in your dazed stupor you don’t realize it’s Reggie’s special ringtone- the bulldog cheer from Kim Possible.

“Hello?” you ask hoarsely, making sure to stay quiet so your parents won’t hear.

“(Y/N/N), can you talk?” your startled to hear Reggie’s voice on the other line. It sounds scratchy, like he was recently in a screaming match with someone. You open your eyes for the first time, finally accepting that you won’t be able to just roll over and slip back into your dreams. You glance at the alarm clock on your bedside table and your eyes widen at the time.

“It’s like two in the morning Reg,” you sigh, hoping he’ll wait till morning.

“Can I come over?” Reggie’s pleading now.

“Later, we can go to Pop’s for lunch or something,” you yawn loudly into the phone in protest.

“I’m already here,” before you can respond the line goes dead.

You can hear quiet, almost not there, footsteps outside your window as Reggie expertly navigates his way through the flowers and bushes outside your window. He taps on the window three times in quick succession, your old signal for when he would sneak over letting you know it was him at your window. You reluctantly get out of your warm cozy bed, stumbling to the window to open it for your former best friend.

Your plans for just slipping back into bed anf hopefully nodding off while he talks go out the window as you come face to face with Reggie’s swollen face. He has a split lip and a black eye, you’re sure he has belt marks on his back too. You don't care that Reggie is climbing through the window a little too loudly, your sole focus now on fixing him up. Once he’s in the room you sneak to the kitchen and quietly grab an ice pack, stopping in the bathroom to grab rubbing alcohol, cotton balls, and ibuprofen.

You hand him the pain reliever and your bottle of water, it’s not the first time you’ve shared, as soon as you shut your bedroom door behind you. He swallows the pills down with ease, and you both settle on your bed, a sad depressing routine. You don’t say anything as you clean his split lip, he winces slightly when the alcohol drenched cotton ball makes contact with his open wound.

“Mr. Honey caught Kevin and I last night,” Reggie admits quietly.

“I heard, Kevin told me,” you murmur unsure of where this conversation is headed, so you continue to dab at his lip.

“Mr Honey, he said that no one takes me seriously, no one since you. He said that he heard around school that I made my ‘persona’ bigger, became more of a prankster, after I lost you. He-he knew about my dad, (Y/N),” Reggie’s voice cracks, you can’t imagine what he must be feeling right now. “Said people at school are laughing at me, worst of all, you’re laughing at me.”

“Oh sweetie, no!” you're quick to jump in and defend. “I would never laugh at you, you know that. Never. No one else is either, he was just saying that to get a rise out of you.” Your arm moves without your permission, you push a strand of black hair out of his eyes before caressing his cheek softly.

“He tp’d my car, that I get. That was actually funny,” Reggie hisses, you aren’t sure if it’s because you’re lightly pressing the ice pack to his shiner or because of what he’s about to say next. “But he broke Bella’s windshield, shattered her passenger side window, and busted her left headlight.”

“I’ll kill him!” you jump up from your spot on your bed, no longer caring if you wake your parents. Reggie holds the ice pack to his eye with his right hand, cautiously reaching for your hands with his left. You calm down when his fingers intertwine with yours, sinking back down next to him.

“I avoided going home all day, but when I did and my dad saw the car,” Reggie takes in a shaky breath, and you rub the back of his hand with your thumb. “He did, well he did this.” He uses your joined hands to gesture towards his face.

You don’t say anything, instead just pulling him in for a hug. Reggie tenses at first before melting into your warm embrace. You pull him down onto the bed with you so you're laying side by side, he rests his head on your chest as you tuck the two of you in.

“I know we haven’t talked in a while,” you let out dissatisfied hum as you card your fingers soothingly through his hair. “But you're the only person I wanted to see, the only person I ever want to see. It’s been torture without you (Y/N).”

“It doesn’t seem like it,” you say under your breath, but he hears you clearly with his ear pressed to your chest.

“I was an idiot, I let my ego keep me from you,” he moves his head to look up at you, his brown eyes shine with sincerity.

“Don’t do this right now Reggie,: your eyes fill with tears, “Don’t do or say anything you don’t mean just to make me feel better.”

Reggie moves his right arm from around your waist to brush away a stray tear that slipped out of your eye. He moves his thumb down your cheek to your lips, tracing them with the pad of his thumb. Reggie lightly tugs down on your lower lip causing you to uncage it from your teeth, when did you even bite it in the first place?

“I love you (Y/N), I always have,” he looks away from your mouth so he can stare into your eyes. “And I think you have too.”

“I have, I love you so much Reggie,” he pulls your face down to meet him. The kiss is searing, and a little wet due to the tears leaking out of both of your eyes, but it’s perfect. You pull back when you get the slightly tangy taste of blood on your tongue. You immediately fuss over Reggie’s lip, said lip splitting again during the makeout. Reggie pulls you back down onto the bed and into his arms after you’ve dabbed at his lip with the cotton ball again.

“How can I make it up to you?” his eyes shine with unshed tears as he stares lovingly at your face, almost like he’s mesmerized by you. “Not just tonight, but leaving you for Ronnie so I could try to get over you, and for every other night you’ve taken care of me.”

“Just never leave me again,” you whimper, which is cut off when he kisses you again.

“Never,” Reggie’s never been more serious about anything in his life.

You cuddle up to Reggie’s chest, his warmth and scent quickly lulling you into a deep comforting sleep. You don’t care that he should sneak out the window and go home, or that your mom will find you two cuddled up in your twisted sheets when she comes to check on you at ten. All you care about is Reggie being safe, in your arms, and finally having him back in your life-but with one vast improvement to your relationship.

Permenent tags: @crimson-knuckled-queen @rexorangecouny @mrs-malfoy-always

#reggie mantle x reader #reggie mantle #riverdale #riverdale imagine #reggie mantle imagine #reggie mantle one shot #reggie mantle x y/n #reggie mantle x you #riverdale fanfiction #reggie mantle fanfiction #reggie mantle deserves better #holden honey was an ass #if i ever see him again it'll be too soon

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wiypt-writes · 3 years

Text

Murder, He Wrote

Part 3 Co-Written with @southerngracela

Summary: It’s Thanksgiving, but when you’re being held hostage by Hugh Ransom Drysdale there’s really not a lot to be thankful for, is there?

Warnings: Bad language words. MATURE (NSFW 18+) NON-CON situation, kidnap, violence. DO NOT READ IF ANY OF THOSE TRIGGER… READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!!!!

Pairing: DARK! Ransom Drysdale x Reader

A/N: So this is Part 2 to our submission for @Jtargaryen18 ‘s Haunted House 2020 Challenge. Once again READ THE WARNINGS!!!! This is a DARK Series… don’t @ us if you can’t follow simple instructions and end up with butt-hurt. And if you’re under 18…get off my blog.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and by writing it does NOT mean I agree with or condone the acts contained within. This fiction is classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar reader and any other OCs that may or may not be mentioned. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Murder, He Wrote Masterlist // Main Masterlist.

Part 2

You could feel the chill of the outside seeping into your space, your bones, through the vented window following your shower. The way it crept in made you realize just how far along through fall you were, maybe it was even approaching the onset of the holiday weather. Either way, a storm seemed to be outside. At least it felt like it. Once dried, you found yourself wrapping up tighter in the thick cardigan you’d chosen before you dried your hair, and allowed yourself a quick squirt of perfume before settled into the reading chair in the corner of your room, your journal on your lap.

The little, leather bound book had been in your handbag which had been given back to you earlier that morning as the latest reward for behaving and as you ran your hand over the deep brown cover, you couldn’t help the air of excitement you felt at having been given your treasured little note book, despite the dreary sky you could see from the porthole above your chair.

It had actually surprised you that Drysdale had kept it and not disposed of it the same way he had your phone and your car. But for whatever reason, he’d held onto it, and for that you were grateful. Grateful that you had something of your own from before this imprisonment to anchor too. You’d expected him to want some kind of favour in return but he hadn’t demanded any sort of sexual gratification, simply informed you he would be out most of the morning and would be back mid to late afternoon. As soon as he had gone you had eagerly tipped the contents of your bag onto the bed, almost crying at the sight of your half empty bottle of Coco-Mademoiselle, the Mac Lip-gloss, NYX Eyebrow pencil, Mont Blanc fountain pen, a full tube of mints and your treasured journal. With teary eyes you’d put everything away in its new place, apart from the book and pen before padding into the bathroom for a shower, deliberately sorting yourself out for the day. All you could think of was taking the time so you could savour the moment when you could hopefully make some sense of the jumble in your head by spilling it onto a page.

You opened the cover and flicked to your last entry, the morning of Halloween. A rambling rant about Mick-The-Prick filled the page and you paused, tears in your eyes, as you’d give anything to be stood in his office thinking about ingenious ways to kill him and get away with it. Ironic, really considering that was exactly what your captor had done; committed murder and gotten away with it.

You went to jot the date down in the corner of the page and realised that actually, you didn’t have a clue what it was. Down here, night bled into day, day bled into night…and soon it all bled into weeks. However, given the fact your cycle had been and gone a week ago you figured that it was maybe four weeks since Halloween. Of course, you could ask Hugh, but the less you had to ask him the better as far as you were concerned. You hate the fact that he had this hold on you, that you had to ask for and ‘earn’ things by being ‘good’. And whilst it made you sick to your stomach, you’d fast learnt it was easier to comply than rebel. The night he had left you tangled in your sweater had hurt. It had taken you a good twenty minutes to muster the strength to work your way out and drag yourself into a bath, your body shaking with the trauma, sobs wracking your frame. Your body ached for days, your mind in a post-traumatic cloud of despair. And whilst it hadn’t broken you per-say, it had certainly made you realise exactly what the bastard was capable of, and you had no intention of finding out just how much further he was willing to go.

So, in summary, it had taken Ransom Drysdale two days to break you into compliance.

You’d become passive, so to speak. You gave into his whims, let him use you as he saw fit, did as he told… for the most part anyway. There had been a few other incidents post the sweater one where you’d forgotten yourself and protested, fought a little and he’d gone hard on you, but nothing like that second night. Your passive behaviour was mistaken by him for compliance, and as such you had earned a number of rewards. The bistro table where you took your meals, a book or two which just so happened to be by his grandfather, a gesture you weren't sure was him purging or pressing an agenda onto you. And more recently and most preciously, your bag. But, the strange thing was, that whilst he wanted you to give into him physically, he seemed to enjoy the fact that you were in no way, shape or form compliant to him in others. You openly sassed him, bit back, called him out and he actively encouraged it. He’d started spending a little more time with you in the mornings and afternoons, not just visiting you to toy with you or fuck, but to engage in these little tete-a-tete’s, and the sickest, most perverted thing about it was that you were almost glad. The loneliness was crippling, and you craved company. Even if it was his.

All things considered, you’d rather ask him for as little as possible so instead, you flicked to the front of the book and crossed off the days on the small calendar inside the cover. Deciding that the date it led you to was as accurate as it was going to get, you turned back, jotted it down in the top right of your page and stared at the blank lines, looking to sort your thoughts for your next entry.

The saying used to go, what's in a name, however as I sit here thinking back on the last few weeks I wonder now what's in a day. My days consist of imprisonment. Held by a captor I have met once before. He's smart, almost too smart. Displaying forms of abuse and aggressive behaviors any FBI analyst would love to dive deep into. But that's not my job, no, my job is to please and satisfy him. Answer to his whims of gratification at any call of the day. I have nowhere to go, nowhere to hide. But if I behave, he lets few things get by. I miss home, my bed, my life. I miss Mick, which is saying a lot all things considered. I don't know still what he wants from me, other than the obvious sexual gratification with little to no room for anything else. I'm a toy, a means to an itch. I don't know how long exactly I've been here, I can only guess it's been about a month. Nor do I know how long I'll have to stay. The answers are blurred like my vision, marred by tears and the low light inside. I haven't seen outside since the day he took me. I haven't been anywhere outside this room. I can see from the small porthole window above this stupidly soft leather chair the season has changed. It feels like deep fall, and as a storm comes outside, what little sky I see is bleak and dark, clouds covering the bluest of skies, angry and ready to open up, raining down water to wash away the sins of the day. I wish I could do the same.

Before you realized, time had obviously passed, for the sound of the door bolts unlocking had you guessing it was late afternoon or early evening. A glance up at the porthole behind you confirmed as much. The sky was dark and rain had been beating on the window for a little while.

In came Drysdale, hair a bit wet, a strand slightly out of place, wool pants and maroon sweater. He carried a plate of food in one hand and a bottle of water in the other. He looked irked, like he'd wasted time on something, a look you were now able to decipher after weeks of seeing it.

"Happy Thanksgiving," he said, setting the plate down on the bistro table with its two accompanying chairs, waiting for you to join him.

Instead of biting back, you simply whispered, "it’s Thanksgiving?" You checked the inside cover of your journal and see the date again. You were a day off and it now dawned on you. It was the fourth Thursday of the month and indeed, Thanksgiving. You glanced back up at Ransom and a deep sadness washed over you. Closing your journal and setting it on the table by your chair, you stood, moving towards him and the plate of food. You took a seat and looked down at the plate, full of the holiday dish basics; turkey, gravy, mashed potatoes, stuffing, diced not candied yams and roasted green beans. It was gourmet and nothing near what he'd been serving you or managing to try. "Thank you," you said softly, rolling your fork through the potatoes. You take a bite but it's about as bland and tasteless as your despair.

"I brought it back from the country club, I met my father there," he looked under your gaze again, as if willing your eyes to his. "Do you not like it?"

Finally, your gaze met those cold cerulean orbs, setting your fork down and you took a drink of water, "No, it's fine." Then you picked up your fork again and took another bite, this time of the turkey and gravy. You didn't have it in you for an argument or it's physical ramifications.

"Are you not hungry?" Ransom pressed.

"I guess not as much as I thought," you repled further poking at your food, your voice cracking a little as you try to keep your composure. The sting of the holiday has you broken, far more than you'd expected. Normally, today you'd be helping your mother in the kitchen, settling the final touches on the side dishes and listening to your father tell your uncle about some a-typical dad joke he'd heard. Your sister would be giddy over the wine while her boyfriend of the month received death glares from said uncle and your father.

Ransom outwardly sighed and you wait for what you were trying to avoid. "Are you alright?"

The question threw you off guard completely and you struggled to hide the shock from your expression. He never cared about your feelings before. Maybe he thought you were coming down with something. You braced yourself to answer honestly. There was no point in lying, he'd see through it.

"I'm fine, I'm not sick if that's what you're thinking," you answered, a deep restraint on your tone to keep yourself in check. "I hadn't realized what day it was. I didn't know it was Thanksgiving." You swallowed the lump in your throat and blinked hard. "My mom, my sister and I, we used to all help make dinner as a family. My dad and uncle would talk a bunch of shit around the fireplace while shooting death glares at my sister's flavor of the month."

He looked at you like he was confused. You scoff, "Of course you wouldn't understand."

"What's that supposed to mean?" He squint his eyes, biting the inside of his cheek. His body language completely changed as he leaned forward on his forearms, popping one shoulder up higher than the other.

"Nothing," you backed down immediately.

"Tell me," he pressed.

God, he was relentless. You pushed your plate forward and leaned on your own elbows. You looked at him with a raised brow, "am I going to be in trouble if you don't like what I have to say?"

"Depends," he popped a shoulder smugly.

You matched his expression and his demeanour falters just a fraction. You saw it, but you didn't hold back. "Then I'd rather keep it to myself. That's what you want isnt it? Me to comply, be obedient? Frankly, I'm not in the mood."

He failed to hide his smirk and you noticed that too, "Sweetheart." It wasn't laced with teasing, rather his pet name for you on his tongue held a cautious venom.

"You hate your family. You know nothing about love and what it takes to give love. Hell, I don't doubt that for a minute you've ever felt loved. It's all an act. Self-preservation even. I don't know you or your family outside of the hours of research I did and the mere forty five minutes I listened to you drone on about your 'predicament'. But, the cold hearted truth of it is, you don't know how to love." You watched him run his tongue along his teeth as he continued to glare at you, but you weren't finished. "And that's what family is, it's what they do. They love, they are the embodiment of love at its deepest root. Maybe, just maybe somewhere along your life, your parents loved you, but judging by the Thrombey-Drysdale standards, none of you know what love is outside your selfish tithings and flashy cars. It got lost along the way, more than likely long before you ever were born."

"Wow," he raised his brows and clicked his tongue against his teeth, "That's good, that's really good."

You're fear receptors suddenly spiked as recognizable flash of anger in his eyes flashed through his irises. But there was something else there that you couldn't put your finger on it. Your breathing quickly up-ticked as you felt your palms begin to sweat.

He inhaled a deep, almost centering breath, "that perfume in your bag, I like it."

As if he'd grown a second head, you blinked hard refocusing on him. Had you heard him right? You'd just broken a rule, laid out an unspeakable truth for him and now in a blink he's, God forbid, complimenting your scent? Who the fuck was this guy? Was he on meds? Because he should be or he should at least probably share. It might make life here more bearable. "What?"

"The perfume from your bag, you're wearing it. It smells good," he lamented.

Alright, now the 'of sound mind' argument might be worth something because he sure as shit wasn't now. You swallowed and picked up your fork, taking a bite of the cold food just to buy yourself some time as you tried to process the scene before you. You had no remark to make. Confusing jumbled any thought of a coherent word you could utter.

"Maybe if I'm out, I can pick you up a new bottle. I noticed you were near empty," Ransom offered.

This was starting to make your stomach turn. If he'd gone through your bag, because why wouldn't he at this point, smelled your perfume, had he read your journal? You made a mental note to go back through and see if there was anything he'd read that he had used against you thus far or could use to corner you in the future. You looked around the room, waiting to see if you were being Punk'd. Just who the fuck is this guy? Without your expression giving too much of your confusion away, you nod at him in reply. "Thank you, I'd like that."

"Hmph," he paused, a dramatic effect he seemed to know that your heart rate up in anxiety. "Well, then why are you looking at me like I have two heads, Y/N?"

Tread lightly, you thought to yourself. He didn't call you by your first name often, in fact, the last time he had, you were very much smarting back and it resulted in a forceful situation that left you raw and sore for a few days. It was always 'Sweetheart'.

He baited you, you knew it, but you couldn't back out now. So you sighed, "I know I'm not supposed to ask questions, but, I don't even know who you are right now. Do you? One minute you're giving me food and being gentle, the next you're allowing my opinion, and now you're ready to flip this table. That's as close as two heads as it gets."

"Careful, Sweetheart," he now glared at you. There it was, you were in for it. The approach of choice, you weren't sure of, but he was done. You'd learned the different tones in his voice by now, the cues he gave. You were definitely in trouble. You dropped your eyes to your plate. The food stone cold and no longer even appealing in its slightest measure, a wave of nausea washing over you. You further pushed your plate away, "I don't think I'm hungry anymore."

His broad frame rose from the chair, "you weren't to begin with," his left hand reaching for the plate and holds it in his hand, "Third drawer down in the armoire. Pick something, I'll be back."

You watched him leave, the familiar click of the door shutting and snap of the lock sounded around the small apartment and you exhaled loudly, your head dropping into your hands. This wasn’t the first time he’d requested that you ‘dress for the occasion’ so to speak. With a deep breath you stood up and crossed the room, opening the drawer of requirements, seeking out a negligee for him to no doubt remove. Your fingers roamed over the fabrics and selection. La Perla, Agent Provocateur, Carine Gilson, Coco de Mer and Fleur of England were just a handful of the expensive, high-end brands that filled the space. Your fingers smoothed over a black macrame and tule underwired long line bra and the matching thong that was folded neatly under it. Plucking it from the drawer, you headed for the bathroom. You slipped out of your casual tee, duster cardigan and leggings, the bra and panties you'd had on. You sighed as you took a good look at yourself in your naked form.

While you hadn't lost a ton of weight over the last month, you could tell you'd grown thinner. You weren't gaunt but your lack of a daily Dunkin' Donuts macchiato had seemed to thin you out. Your captor made sure you were fed, but you didn't always eat. The plump of your cheeks had receded and your little pooch brought on by happy carbs was sucked into your frame. There were a few bruises still seen, near green, an indication of their final healing stage. The pock mark from a hickey he'd given you still a bit scaby as he'd broken the skin just barely. This was your life now and it made what few bites of Thanksgiving dinner in your stomach nearly lurch forward back up your throat.

You swallowed it down, pulling the long line bra straps up your arms and clasping it behind your back. Your legs slipped into the thong panties and you pulled the material up your freshly smooth legs. Your shaky fingers plucked at the hair tie that fastened the end of your brain closed, nails raking through your hair to loosen your tendrils. He always wanted your hair loose. You looked at yourself in the mirror, you were ready.

***** Ransom tossed the un-eaten food into the garbage and dumped the plate into the sink to be dealt with later. Turning so that his lower back was leaning on the edge of the kitchen counter he ran a hand over his clean shaven jaw, his mind ticking over the events of the day so far. A pain-in-the-ass Thanksgiving meal with his father had been made bearable by the fact he knew he was coming back to her, and because he hadn’t wanted to be a complete monster he’d made the effort of bringing her a nice dinner back too. But she’d hardly touched any of it.

And what disturbed him most about it, was the fact that instead of wanting to punish her for being an ungrateful bitch, he instead felt a deep rooted sense of concern. She’d lost weight, her face was pale, her hip bones more pronounced, and frankly the last thing he wanted was her passing out on him. Whilst he wanted her compliant, necrophilia really wasn’t his bag.

He had thought by giving her back the bag she’d had on her the night he took her he might have seen a lift in her spirits so to speak, a little gratitude, but instead she’d been meek and reserved until he’d coaxed that familiar sass out of her. And even then she’d been reticent.

It should have pleased him that she was learning her place and becoming more subservient. But if he was being honest with himself, he almost missed her fighting and arguing back. It had been exciting in a way, and he had thought it would have taken longer than it had to break her so to speak. Maybe he had overestimated exactly what a fighter she was, maybe she wasn’t the right muse for his writing after all. Because, let’s face it, writing a tale about a woman who was captured and broken into submission within two days, merely becoming a puppet for her captor’s whims was hardly going to win him any accolades was it? He needed more, needed something that he could spin a good story from. He knew now that when he went back down to her he had to try a different tact so to speak, he needed to coax her mind into reacting not merely her body.

Because if he couldn’t do that, there was no point in keeping her.

He allowed her half an hour or so before he headed back down the stairs and found her sat on the bed, dressed in one of the sets he’d purchased, her hair loose round her face and shoulders the way he liked. She jumped to her feet and he had to actively supress the groan that was rolling in his throat as his eyes scanned her up and down, and he didn’t miss the slight bruises that dotted her skin in various places where he’d marked her as his own. She’d long since stopped trying to cover herself up. Instead she stood stock still, her eyes focussed on the floor.

With long strides he walked into the room and stopped in front of her, tipping her chin up with his finger so she was looking at him, her eyes wide with trepidation and he gave a smirk as he reached up, brushing her hair off the side of her face and neck, dropping his head as he did so.

“You smell so good, Sweetheart.” He inhaled against her pulse point, lips pressing into her there. He felt the gasp of her breath, the way her skin pricked with chill bumps. He smirked to himself, he’s found her spot. And he filed that away, committing it to memory.

“I like this…” he practically purred as he toyed with the straps to the bra, a long, thick middle finger outlining the strap against her skin, lips following pursuit.

“You should, you chose it.”

He chuckled, ignoring the snark behind her words. “Like I chose you, huh?”

Like I chose you.

His words echoed around your head, reminding you exactly why you were in this fucking situation. Because he had decided you would be. He wanted you, and just like with everything else in his life that Hugh Ransom Drysdale wanted, he simply took. But what worried you the most about all this was whether or not you would be discarded the same way he no doubt discarded the other possessions he lost interest in.

You took a deep, steadying breath as his hands moved from the straps of your bra, long fingers moving to caress the back of your neck, but there was no grabbing, no force. He was being positively gentle.

And it scared the crap out of you.

“Are you afraid of me?” He asked, his breath hot and wet in your ear as you trembled under the further graze of his fingers against the macramé of your set.

“You know I am," you swallowed nervously. You weren't new to this, this wasn't your first time, but the way he was being soft, a stark character change to his a-typical stance with you was what had you crawling in fear in the inside. Was it a game? Was it some sort of ploy? Was this his idea of foreplay now before he turned it up and went hard enough to bruise but not hard enough to make you cry?

A flat palm ran down your abdomen, already taught in fear. But not before a thumb grazed along the underside of your breast. Agonizingly slow, his hand, still splayed over you, dips into your matching macrame panties, dipping into your wet folds, thumb lightly pressing against your clit.

“You’re so wet, considering you’re scared.”

You didn't answer, just swallowed hard, the lump stuck in your throat as it fought against a little whimper.

His mouth once more latched onto your neck, the kisses gentle as opposed to the bruising ones you had become accustomed to. The fingers in your folds matched his slow nature, teasing you in such a way that when you closed your eyes and focussed your mind elsewhere, you could almost believe you were somewhere with a man you’d given permission to touch you in such away. But when his lips moved to your jawline and you took a deep breath, the heady scent of his cologne hit your senses and your eyes flew open as you were reminded just whose lips and hands were violating you in such away.

You swallowed as Ransom pulled away, his hand gently grasping your chin once more as he issued a simple instruction.

“Strip for me, sweetheart.”

You took a deep breath, swallowing down the bile that had once more risen up your throat as he sat down on the edge of the bed, his legs bent, hands resting on his knees as he watched you the way a lion watched its prey. You undid the clasp on your bra, your eyes remaining locked on his as you slid the straps down your shoulders and dropped the garment to the floor. Your captor took a deep breath, his eyes flicking down your body as you moved to shed the bottom half, wondering what on earth had been the point of wearing it in the first place. But even as you asked yourself that, you already knew the answer. It was a bout power, another way for him to remind you just who you belonged to now. How he could strip you bare in more way than one without even lifting a finger.

But lift a finger he did, curling it in mid-air as he beckoned you towards him. You took careful steps over the floor until you were stood in between his legs. His large hands smoothed up the outside of your thighs, before he pulled you towards him, his nose brushing the skin of your abdomen as he took a deep breath, fingers curling round your thighs.

And then, in a flash he stood, taking you with him, and before you could so much as utter a squeak or noise of surprise he had you naked, laying across the bed, the sheets cold against your skin, a contrast to the heat emanating from the body against yours. The look in his lust blown eyes was overwhelming. You didn't know what you were in for but as his body, still clothed in the frayed maroon sweater and wool slacks sunk into the mattress between your legs, you felt a chill course through your veins, your skin, again, pricking in bumps all over. His hands, with their thick fingers, trailed long lines up and down your thighs, Ransom's full lips kissing at your sensitive inner skin, a nip or two here and there as he went from your knee, upward.

He could smell your arousal, see it glistening as it dripped from your core. "Someone's ready," he quipped. He watched you swallow hard, a literal lump in your throat bobbing the skin. Your eyes never left him. "No cumming until I tell you. Do you understand?" When you didn't answer immediately, he swiped his tongue over your wet lips, tasting the honey your body gave him, your back arching away from sheets. "Do you understand?"

And there it was, your punishment finally arriving from your little moment before over dinner. As you still had your wits about you, you uttered a single word response, in the hope that the more submissive you were, the more accepting you were of your chastisement, the less hard on you he was going to be.

"Yes."

His mouth expertly devoured every inch of you, from your inner and outer pussy lips to the depths of your walls, tongue fucking you like you he was starving, the lavish holiday meal he'd partaken in not filling enough. His thumb pressed against your engorged nub, causing you to writhe but a firm arm over your abdomen kept you in place. The same thick fingers that traced lines up your thighs, two were now buried deep inside you, his tongue working away any juices that seeped out. As he gave you a third, stretching you more, you felt your walls start to tighten, that burning coil in your belly flare and your hands gripped the sheets tighter.

Ransom could clearly feel you flutter against his fingers as he stopped his assault and looked up at you.

"What did I say?"

Your chest heaved, your stomach taught and you fought to obey. When you managed to calm yourself, he began again, almost from square one, slowly, tantalizingly slow.

The action was torture and you were desperately willing yourself to remain grounded as again your body fought to ride over the edge building inside you. When his mouth was over you completely, tongue deep, thumb pressing again into your clit, you felt the urge to cum. But he pulled away, slowly, his thumb stopping the pressure, his tongue slowly dragging out of you.

"I said no. This is your punishment for your smart mouth over dinner."

"Please, I need to, I'll... I'll make it worth your while, please just let me." Your voice sounded alien as you spoke, the words leaving your mouth in the desperate hope he’d take pity on you but to no avail. Your attempts at bartering served only to frustrate him, anger him even and he Ransom backed away, roughly pulling you to the edge of the bed before stripping out of his sweater and undershirt, the undeniable outline of his hard cock along his thigh strained against his wool slacks.

Harsh in his grip, he repositioned himself between your legs, your thighs across his shoulders, ass dangling above the floor as a heavy arm kept you still. His flat tongue, hot and full of your sex was eating away at you while his final throws of resolve ate away at him.

“I’m done playing fucking games.” he growled against your aching cunt “I should have gagged you, stuffed my cock deep into the back of your throat, something, anything to shut you up.”

You barely had time to register his words before once more you were flat out against the mattress, trying to regain your breath and calm yourself down when he backed away, tore open his flies and smirked down at you.

"Oh no, Sweetheart, we're not done yet." He kneeled beside you, his chest heaving, hair completely out of place, anger and wait, was that pain, flickering in his eyes as he stuffed you with a hard thrust of his length. "Now you’re gonna cum on this dick."

He thrusted hard and within a few slams of his hips against yours, he allowed you the release you were begging for, "that's right, Princess, cum on my cock."

You wept at the feeling finally freeing you, cries of pleasure spilling from your lips as you squeezed around him. Your chest heaving against his, skin to skin. The fabric of his wool pants hot and itchy against your inner thighs. He was still thrusting but now it had slowed to a roll, slow and calculated. Your muddled mind was buzzing and rapidly trying to sort out if he'd cum inside you or if he wasn't finished. His features were softer, but still filled with purpose and his lips latched onto a naked breast causing your body to react, tingles and flames licking at your core again. His eyes looked up at yours as he caged you in, still buried deep inside you, hips rolling.

"I said we weren't done," he rasped. His thrusts and rolls, the two very different tactics mixing now, made the swell of his cock inside you abhorrently pleasurable. Try as you might, it was impossible to feel otherwise.

And Ransom was finding it equally as hard to hold on. His weight was evenly distributed over her, his cock swelling inside her heat. It took all he had not to blow his load the first time he made her cum, hearing the sinful sounds of her orgasm that felt like a volcanic eruption around his hard shaft. But now he could feel her again, tiny little pulses around his already overtly sensitive dick. He was sure his precum was leaking out, wanting to paint the way for the rest of him to follow. He rolled and thrust as his lips nipped at her neck. She moaned loudly, her body exuding lust. He could feel her shake beneath him and to his delight and surprise her eyes were no longer screwed shut and turned away. Instead they were locked on his. The moment those deep hued orbs met his, he felt a hitch in his breath and tightness in his chest that travelled through his belly and into his cock, causing the thick member to throb inside her. Tiny, soft hands gripped at his biceps, her touch a fiery scald against his skin, almost as if it were frost bite. Her touch equally shocking as her stare and he gave a roll of his hips to hide what he felt. A deep, satiated roll of his hips that sent her over the edge.

"Hugh!" She came around him, harder than her first, crying out his given name. It snapped him from his moment of revelation, driving him insanely frustrated at the word leaving her lips. He slammed into her as she rode out her orgasm, chasing his own.

You felt the dismissal of his body as he violently pulled free from your walls, spewing his hot seed over your abdomen, drops claiming your tits too. He nearly collapsed, his dick in hand, the other holding himself up against the mattress between your legs.

He left you there, dirty, degraded and shut the door with a barked instruction for you to clean yourself up. You no longer cried in front of him, either before, during or after. There was no point. He didn’t care about how you felt, but the thing he DID seem to care about was the fact that you still refused to call him Ransom.

It was the one thing you held on to, the only thing that gave you an inch of control in this entire fucked up situation. You hadn’t missed the look on his face when you’d cried out 'Hugh' in the throes of your last orgasm. Before that moment there had been a softness in his eyes, one that had unnerved you no end, along with something that had looked suspiciously like hope. But when his given name had tumbled involuntarily from your mouth and not the one he preferred that softness had turned to contempt and you didn't miss the undercurrent of disappointment either.

And seeing that, knowing that it pissed him off and dare you say it, upset him so much was your single, albeit feeble, act of rebellion that served as a desperate boost to your ever waning inner strength. *****

Ransom laid in his large, plush bed, hands behind his head as the silk sheets pooled at his waist as morning was in full swing outside. His thoughts strayed to his girl in the basement and he took a deep breath, shifting slightly as he remembered the way her fingers had felt as they’d curled around his biceps, her touch firey but cold. That had been the first time she’d touched him when she wasn’t trying to push him away, it had been involuntary, he knew that, a reaction to the way she’d been feeling, the way he had made her feel.

A twitch resounded deep in his belly....the way he made her feel.

He realised now that he’d been going about this the entirely wrong way. The force had been necessary to make her comply at first, but last night she hadn’t just complied she’d participated, just what he had wanted all along. And all after he’d shown her a little leeway, brought her dinner, entertained her talk. He understood now that he needed to play a different card from his hand. She responded better to conversation, talking. Ransom hated fucking talking, he was more cerebral, calculating. Conversation means connecting, and connecting was something he wasn’t particularly interested in normally. He needed to lead, to be in charge, but it was clearly what she knew and thrived on, so he had to swallow his apprehension down to play the long game, to get what he wanted.

Now he understood that, it was going to be so fucking easy. All he had to do was to seemingly show her compassion, a little give so he could take so to speak. He rolled his head, cracking his neck as he remembered what she said about cooking with her mom so he decided that after her stellar performance last night, today she’d earned a bigger reward than a book or some journal. He was going to show her what she could have if she just gave in and admitted what he knew she truly wanted. A large house, a garden, a pool, a hot tub, silk sheets, a large bed, and a man to fuck her every way to heaven and back. He could give her everything that any woman could possibly desire, and then some.

With a twitch of a smirk across his lips, Ransom pulled his naked frame out of bed and slipped into joggers, a soft waffle knit thermal long sleeve pulled over his tousled hair. He felt like company for breakfast and he knew exactly to invite up.

His bare feet padded with purpose over the plush carpet of his room, down the stairs and onto the first floor, over the hard wood and marble tile of the halls and entry, down the plush carpeted spiral staircase down to the basement.

He reached the door and gently turned the locks, quietly pushing the door open as he turned the knob. It opened quietly and his eyes fell upon the empty bed. He frowned slightly, wondering where she was. Then his eyes found her, sitting curled up with her eyes cast upward, that little tease of a porthole window in her focus. She'd turned her chair around so she could see it more clearly, the throw blanket he'd tossed at her the week before was wrapped around her body. He didn't know the time, but it wasn't early nor was it afternoon. Not that it mattered, neither had anywhere else to be.

"Good morning," he said lowly. He watched as her eyes slowly moved away from the only bit of outside world she'd seen for weeks now.

"Morning," she replied quietly, her eyes locking onto his. "I err, I was just..." she trailed off. "Actually, I don't know what I was doing to be honest."

He stalked up to the chair, kneeling in front her. His hand reached up and cupped her cheek, his thumb running over her cheek bone. "You were such a good girl last night. Took me so well, teased me with that little number you had on. I've thought about you all morning."

Ransom watched her throat bob as she swallowed before licking her lips and biting the inside corner of her lip. Such an innocent gesture that had him half hard straight away.

"I want to give you something. But you have to be good, or it goes away," he started. "Can you be good, Sweetheart?"

She nodded, slightly. "Okay," he smirked. "Now, fix the chair and come up to make us breakfast."

Ransom stood back, allowing you some space to accommodate his request. You slipped the throw blanket from your shoulders and left it in the chair as you rearranged the piece back to its normal state. You met him at the doorway. You didn't miss the way his eyes moved over you, the way they lit up in a way at as he looked at the silken material covering your body. The dark teal silk and lace cami set was just one of a handful of options he'd provided for you. All the same, different colors, all in your size.

You hesitated for a second, not sure if this was another one of his little games but he simply met your eyes with his own and nodded up the stairs. With tentative, shaky steps you climbed them, sensing him close behind you as for the first time in weeks you left your prison. You felt anxious, highly on edge and nervous. What was awaiting you? There was the sickening feeling in your stomach of excitement too, you hadn’t seen the outside since Halloween. You paused at the top of the stairs in the hall. The kitchen was directly across from you, the entry to your right. The door to the basement clicked shut and you felt Ransom’s firm chest behind your back as his form invaded your space. He dragged a finger down your arm causing the strap of your top to fall away, placing a soft kiss on your shoulder.

"Straight ahead, Sweetheart."

“Okay,” you whispered before you slowly made your way through to the large, airy kitchen. You stood looking around, taking in the fancy appliances before you turned back to Ransom. "Did you have something in mind?”

"Well..." Ransom leaned in the doorway, watching you as you stood in the middle of the tiled floor "Yesterday wasn't the first time you said you enjoyed to cook so I thought you might like to." His eyes flicked once more down your frame and back up again before he nodded his head towards the rear of the room. “Anything you need is in the pantry and fridge.”

“And I can make anything I want?” You blinked, not quite able to believe what he was allowing you to do. It was fucked up that you were even considering this as a reward but, you’d take it. Boy would you take it, anything to grasp some sense of normality in this day-by-day hell you were living.

“Sure.” Ransom popped a shoulder again and you took a deep breath before you turned and headed to the sink to wash your hands before sorting out your menu and you froze. The outside landscape had stopped you cold. From what you could see of the back garden the property was secluded, not over looked. A lawn extended a fair distance back from the rear of the house, a neat decking area stood to the right which sported a hot tub and a little further down there looked to be a pool of some kind which was covered over for the season. Trees hung over the bottom of the garden lining the high wooden fence, what few leaves they still sported were shades of crimson, gold and brown and the river traced it’s banks as it curved around the side and back of the house, the sun shining off the surface, giving it the impression it was made of sapphires. It was breathtakingly beautiful and you felt your heart shatter, your eyes well and you couldn't help but hold back the urge to weep as your chest contracted painfully. You were so close to the outside, separated only by a pane of glass, yet it had never felt further away.

His voice broke you from your despair and you swallowed back the sob that choked your throat as you flicked your attention to the left, Ransom's reflection drawing closer towards you as he crossed the terracotta tiled floor.

"Everything alright?"

You cleared your throat and gave a quick shake of your head, "Fine."

Again you felt him in your space. His presence consuming. “You sure?”

Sure? No you weren’t sure. Because none of this was fine, in fact it was as far from fine as it could possibly get. In that moment you wanted nothing more than to spin round and hammer your fists into any part of his body you could hit but you knew that it wouldn't get you anywhere, bar back in the basement likely shackled naked to the bed so you instead turned slowly to find yourself caged in by his broad frame so close to yours. You cast your eyes downward, uncomfortable at his searching stare, "Yeah, I’m sure.”

Your tongue flicked nervously over your lips as you continued to avoid his gaze before you cleared your throat “How do you like your eggs? Or would you prefer an omelette? Pancakes even?" The urge to move away from him pulled you away from your idea of a menu. Brunch basics were flooding your brain and you rattled off a few nervously. He may have said you could make whatever you wanted, but right now, you had no clue. Seeing a different space, the outside world and breathing new air had rattled you.

“You choose.” Ransom spoke softly, his hand reaching up to brush your hair off your face before he tipped your chin up so your eyes met his. He looked at you, and you swallowed as for the first time there was something unreadable on his face. His eyes were looking at you in a way they’d never looked at you before, with a softness you’d never have anticipated he could possess.

"Waffles." You suddenly blurted out, desperate to escape his gaze "I err, do you have a waffle iron?”

“No.” He deadpanned.

"Oh," you swallowed "Erm, then in that case French toast...maybe? Is that ok?"

“Sounds delicious.” He said, his hand dropping from your face, “Sure it’ll taste almost as good as you.”

“Great. How about with fresh Chantilly cream and berries if you have them?” You asked, completely ignoring his blatant back handed compliment and you started familiarizing yourself with the space as you glanced around.

“Like I said, whatever you want, Sweetheart.” He shrugged, and with that he stepped back to allow you to move away.

Ransom watched her move around the luxurious kitchen, looking through the pantry and cabinet near the stove taking out cinnamon and vanilla, plucking items like bread, butter, eggs, berries and cream from the fridge. Searching drawers for utensils and measuring cups and spoons. Finding a pan and bowl from a bottom cabinet. Measuring sugar from the glass jar on the counter. He hoped the ingredients were still fresh, he wasn't exactly sure how long they'd been stored. She moved like she belonged there, he thought to himself. So sexy looking in her nightwear, bare feet on the tile, her ass and breasts moving underneath the silk as she stretched and worked.

"Coffee?" He offered, as he moved from one side to the other. He made sure his exquisite espresso machine was ready as it sat in all its glory on its own portion of the counter like a batista station inside Starbucks.

He didn't miss the way she watched him move around her, preparing the coffee and grabbing the orange juice from the fridge. He reached over her shoulder, his body brushing against hers as he opened the cupboard where he kept the glasses and mugs. He peered down at her, giving a twitch to the corner of his mouth. A smirk indeed. He noted the way her eyes followed him as he poured the juice, like he was going to poison her or something.

"It's just juice, Sweetheart," he said nonchalantly and put the juice back in the fridge. He set the breakfast table for them and took a seat in his place, a now hot cup of coffee in his hand, hers sitting on the counter next to her.

It wasn’t long before she had finished and brought the plates to the table, sitting down timidly in the seat to his right as he gestured to it, stopping her dead as she was about to make her way around to the opposite side.

It was quiet, the only sounds heard for a while were the click and scrape of forks and knives cutting away at the plates of food. Ransom wouldn't admit it out loud, but this was the best French toast he'd ever had in his life. Something about it, the way it was not soggy, but perfectly moist, the edges just crispy. The way the cream made for no syrup and the sweet berries added the final element. He watched her pick at the food for a moment or two as he glanced over at her and saw a small bit of Chantilly in the corner of her mouth.

A long arm reached across the table and automatically she flinched a little, as if she was going to pull away but one firm stare stopped her in her tracks. His thick thumb padded away the white, sweet cream and he brought the same thumb to his lips, sucking the cream away. He lifted his brows in a teasing manner and twitched up his lips, "Delicious. Like I said, almost as good as you, Sweetheart."

"Thanks, I think," she paused.

"Trust me, I know."

The comment seemingly threw her off her meal and it didn't get past Ransom. She had started picking at it, moving it around the plate like she had done with her dinner the night before. He, on the other hand, was near finished.

"Are you still not hungry?" He inquired.

She shook her head, "I just made my portion too big. I overestimated my appetite, I guess."

"Huh," he placated her reply. He knew she was lying but he let it slide, realizing that seeing a new space, the window to the outside was overwhelming. So, he thought he'd sweeten the deal. "I thought maybe you'd like to see the house," he offered, watching as her big eyes locked onto his and she took a deep breath.

"That sounds nice, thank you."

"Good, after breakfast then." He nodded affirmingly, as if it were drying ink in his mind. He picked up his coffee and finished it off, his plate already clear.

She stood from the table, collecting his plate with her own and headed for the sink. He turned in his chair, stalking her, watching her every move. The way she pitched over the sink, bending her frame over the dishwasher to load it as she cleaned up the kitchen.

With each bend and snap of her hips, he felt his mouth water more. Her little silk cami riding up as she moved, her breasts falling in and out of a fuller view. When she tucked a stray hair behind her ear, he was on her. He moved behind her, his hands grabbed her hips as she spun around completely startled giving a gasp and a quick yelp.

"Easy, Sweetheart," he chuckled as she looked at him, her eyes wide.

"Sorry... you, err...you startled me." She whispered as he moved his hands so they gripped at the side of the kitchen counter on either side of her, caging her in with his body.

"Some women would like that," he quipped, arching an eyebrow a little and watched as she swallowed hard and cast her eyes downward. Moving one hand slowly up her arm, over her shoulder and around her neck, he tipped her head back up so those large, Bambi eyes locked onto his.

His hand adjusted, gripping her chin softly as he moved closer still, dipping his head he pressed a firm kiss to her lips. He felt her go rigid, her chest spiking as she drew in a sharp breath, her body shaking slightly in his hold. "Stop fighting it..." he whispered against her mouth before he kissed her again. This time, his tongue traced the line of her upper lip, the feel of it soft and soothing.

You felt his tongue line your lip and you couldn't hold the whimper of fear that passed through you. He’d never kissed you before, not on the mouth anyway. You felt him deepen his kiss, his big hand cupping your face, pulling you into it more. Your mind went elsewhere, imagining anyone but him kissing you like this. You couldn't deny it, this intimate moment, completely lost on both of you for different reasons, felt good and he was good at it. He was damn good at it in fact, and that alone made you want to vomit your breakfast into his throat. At that, you jerked back, panting a little, feeling your lips swollen from the way he'd sucked your bottom one between his, pulling at it just the right way. You hated the feeling between your legs that it had evoked, your body betraying you just like it always did.

In an attempt to stave off the conflicting emotions spiking within you, you focussed on his face, the face you hated and to your surprise he looked dazed. The usual stoic expression that clouded his features had been replaced with something akin to surprise but no sooner had you noticed it, it was gone.

"Clean up and I'll meet you in the study." He told you, his voice a deep almost pained whisper.

"But I don't..." you started but were quickly cut off.

"You're a smart girl, figure it out," he smirked and slipped away.

You were tempted to follow, just so you'd see where he was going but you knew not to defy a command. The feeling of unease seemed to disappear as you slumped your shoulders and instead defeat filled your frame. A trembling hand came to your lips as jittery fingertips touched your swollen skin. Your bottom lip quivered like a ripple in a river and you quickly covered your mouth, turning on a dime as your French toast littered the sink. If the water hadn't been running already, Ransom would no doubt have heard you retching. You rinsed your mouth out to attempt at hiding that vomit taste from your tongue and quickly finished your task of cleaning up the kitchen, salty tears dripping from your chin, mixing with the soapy water.

When you could stall no longer, you sighed and headed out into the large hallway, taking a quick look around. It was light, airy, the grand staircase swept in and curved round to the next floor and your eyes lingered on the heavy wooden door just beyond it. You hesitated, and then with a dejected sigh realised there was no point even trying to escape. Even if it was unlocked, which you doubted, the threat to your family was just too much for you to risk. Instead, you decided to head down the corridor to your right and found yourself in a large open plan living room of sorts. It was decorated in clean whites and crisp greys with a huge feature stone open fireplace and sported a bar at the back. A brown leather sofa and two matching arm chairs were strategically placed around an expensive looking coffee table but you didn’t bother to look at the rest, this wasn’t the room you needed so you turned back on yourself, walked back into the hall and took the turning to your left.

This time you found yourself walking into what you could only assume was his study-come-den of sorts. It was huge, and once again sported a sofa pushed up against the wall, looking out over the spectacular view of not only the garden but the river too. But that wasn’t what caught your attention, nor was it the walnut desk and laptop that sat upon it. It was the floor to ceiling bookshelf behind it. Your mouth dropped open as you made your way towards it but then you stopped, biting your lip. Were you supposed to be looking at them? But, he had said to meet you in here. And left you to find your own way. Surely, if he didn’t want you looking around he wouldn’t have left you to it.

Throwing caution to the wind you strode forward, your pace hurried this time and your eyes quickly scanned across some of the books. You couldn’t help but feel shocked. Whilst there was a huge collection of his Grandfather’s books, and a number of other crime novels of types, it was the colourful spines to your right that made your chest heave in delight. The entire Harry Potter collection. With a shaky hand you reached for The Philosopher’s Stone, noting the British version of the title, and opened the front page giving another gasp as you read the publishing details.

This was a first edition. And from the date you also knew it would be one that contained the misprint errors. And as such, would be worth a small fortune.

“See something you like?” that familiar voice hit your ears and you gave a little shriek, jumping around, clutching the book to your chest to avoid dropping it.

“I’m sorry.” You hastily began to apologise “I was just…erm…”

“It’s ok.” He assured you, crossing towards you. Once more he encroached into your personal space and you felt the blades of your shoulders press into the shelf behind you. “Harry Potter fan?”

“Yeah.” You nodded, “Didn’t think they’d be your type of thing.

“They’re not really.” He shrugged “I’m a collector. Everything on the shelves, well they’re all first or limited editions, so worth a lot.”

“Figures.” You mumbled, turning round and slotting the book back into the space it had come from. As you did you felt him push up behind you, his hands on your hips, the unmistakable feel of his hard on dug into the lower part of your back and you fought to stop yourself shuddering. He was after pay-back for allowing you to leave your prison.

“Did you like the house?” he asked, brushing your hair off your neck.

“Yes.” You answered politely, your voice catching a little as he placed a kiss to the crook of your shoulder.

“You know, it could all be yours sweetheart if you just stopped fighting what you know you want” His kisses continued up your neck as his words whirled around your brain and you were back to where you had been in the kitchen. It felt good. And that disgusted you.

“Did you enjoy making breakfast?” he whispered, his lips by your ear.

“Yeah.” You nodded, your voice barely there.

“Show me how much.” His teeth nipped at your lobe, his hips grinding forward and you swallowed and closed your eyes. You knew what he wanted but as you turned to face him you had an idea. One which would save you being fucked no doubt over the desk or on the hard looking couch.

With a lick of your lips you looked at him and sank slowly to your knees, taking his sweats with you. His hard cock sprang free, slapping his lower abs and you reached out, grasping it in your hand.

“Fuck, yeah baby…” Ransom hissed as you moved your head forwards and took him in your mouth.

You pulled out all the moves, you took him as deep as you could, gagging a little as he wasn’t a small man. You kept your hand firmly on the base of his cock, you hollowed your lips, you swirled your tongue around his shaft and he let out a little groan his hand fisting in your hair as his hips bucked forwards.

“Jesus, I knew your mouth was smart but…” he panted, looking down at you. You raised your eyes to look at his as he bit his lip, his entire face contorted in pleasure…

Pleasure that was ruined by the sound of the doorbell.

“What the fuck…” Ransom growled out, un-fisting his hand from her hair. “Who the fuck is that?”

He glanced down at her and she looked up at him, wide eyed. She was a mess, swollen lips, wet chin and dressed in nothing but her skimpy tank and shorts. With a frustrated growl, Ransom pulled his dick out of her mouth and grabbed his phone from the table to check the doorbell camera. His face blanched as he saw who it was.

“I don’t fucking believe it…” he mumbled, as she looked up at him.

“Who is it?” She asked, wiping her face, “I’m not exactly dressed for visitors, Hugh.”

Ransom might have been pre-occupied with the familiar face staring at him from his phone, but he still picked up on that 'Hugh' and he glared down at her. “No shit, and because we have a visitor, I'm gonna let that one slide. Get up.” She rose to her feet, blinking a little as he pulled off the thermal he was wearing and tossed it to her. “Put that on. No one gets to see you in silk but me.”

She blinked as she caught it, confusion spreading across her face. “Don’t you just want me to go-“

In a flash, he grabbed her chin between his thumb and finger and she winced, “If I wanted you downstairs I’d have said. So put the damn shirt on, and when he starts asking questions just remember what I said I could do to your family and friends.”

In complete complacency, he watched her slip his thermal over her head, her fingers barely peeking through the sleeves to fix her dishevelled hair. The material hit her mid-thigh and his eyes brows gave a flicker of approval before he walked to the entry and opened the door. "What do you want?"

"Pleasure to see you too, Mr. Drysdale..." that infuriating Southern drawl hit Ransom's ears with all the finesse of a cheese-grater. Benoit Blanc, without so much as a gesture of request, pushed past Ransom as he strode inside, stopping in the tiled entry, looking around.

"Do you have a warrant?" The man of the house snipped in his usual spiteful tone.

Blanc still didn’t reply, and Ransom rolled his eyes following him as he wandered down the hallway, stopping at the open door to the study. "Well, if it isn't the lady of the hour."

Ransom stood behind Blanc, an infuriatingly warning glare sent his girl's way. He noted the way she was sitting on the couch, her legs tucked underneath her, lips still swollen, cheeks flushed, hair tousled. She looked like a sex kitten, and maybe that was the idea. He warned her to sell it after all…

"Excuse me?” Y/N looked up at the two men in the doorway.

Blanc stepped inside the room, taking a seat on the edge of the same couch where she sat. "I've been looking for you, young lady. A lot of people are looking for you, you know Miss Y/L/N.”

“I errr…” she swallowed a little as she slowly got to her feet, her hands pulling the hem of the thermal down before she folded her arms across her chest, not in a defiant manner, but almost as if she was hugging herself “Did someone send you or…”

“No, nothing like that. You see, I heard you'd gone missing, and I knew you had a work connection to Mr. Drysdale, that, shall we say didn't go quite as planned. So when things started adding up, I thought to ask the man himself."

“Well, congratulations, this is one mystery you actually solved correctly, Sherlock. As you can see she’s here and she’s fine, and we were in the middle of something, so if you don’t mind….” Ransom folded his arms, his eyes moving from hers to Blanc, who was irritatingly completely ignoring him, his gaze focussed intently on the woman who stood in front of him.

Ransom could see him take her in fully, now seeing the situation he may have just walked in on. She looked dishevelled and was missing crucial parts of her clothing, but she had no tears in her eyes, no markings looking to be of abuse or out of the ordinary. None that were visible anyway. Blanc’s gaze then dragged over to Ransom who was bare foot in joggers and still half aroused, which he did nothing to hide as he folded his arms over his naked chest.

Ransom held Blanc’s gaze, his chin jutting out defiantly, the detective only looking away when the lady of the hour spoke, her voice quiet, as she gave a small nod. "He’s right, I’m fine."

"Then why not tell your family where you are?”

“I err…” Y/N’s right hand gripped he cuff of the sweater sleeve tightly, “I just, well, I…”

Ransom could see that she was losing it and he knew he had to intervene. He walked over to her and placed an arm around her, kissing the top of her head lightly, "It's alright, Sweetheart. I know how he can be frustrating. We're doing nothing wrong."

With that he turned his gaze to the man in front of him, not even trying to hide the sneer of contempt that was crossing his face “I have neither the time nor the crayons to explain this to you Blanc.”

“Well, maybe Miss Y/L/N has some crayons hidden up her sleeve so to speak.” Blanc smiled innocently and Ransom felt the anger floor his system.

“You’re starting to really piss me off.” he snarled, “You barge into my home, without so much of an explanation…” his rant was stopped dead as Y/N placed her hand on his chest, palm splaying over his bare skin. Ransom swallowed at the touch of her fingers against his skin, firey hot just as they had been last night when they curled around his arms.

"Hey," she spoke and he looked down to see her giving him a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes but one that should be enough to convince the dumbass detective who was watching them. "It's okay." She then turned to Blanc as he held his hand up, palm open, speaking to Ransom.

“I’m not trying to be frustrating Mr. Drysdale, I'm merely enquiring after Miss Y/L/N’s wellbeing."

"I'm not here under duress if that's what you're thinking.” She spoke, clearing her throat. “Hu… Ra, we have had to keep our relationship private,” she stumbled on the right identity, settling for 'we'. Clearing her throat again and settling her nerves, she continued, "Mr. Blanc, as you well know, I'm reporter and his background has been less than stellar as of late. It no doubt would not look good for either of us if it had come to light. My reputation as a journalist would have been in tatters.”

“Well, lies and deception certainly go hand in hand when it comes to Mr. Drysdale...”

Ransom rolled his eyes dramatically “Change the record, Blanc. The static is a little loud.”

Blanc completely ignored him, his attention still on her. “So you caused all this worry, because of some…” he waved his hand in front of him, gesturing between the pair of them.

Ransom’s arm curled round her even tighter, his fingers pressing into her hip and he felt her stiffen a little before she relaxed into his side and gave a small nod.

"Like I said, it wouldn’t have gone down well with my family, or my career.”

“Ahh, yes, your job, which you quit.” Blanc looked at her. “Yes, I spoke to your boss.” He answered her unasked question. “Why would you be so worried for your reputation as a journalist, if you’re not actually a journalist anymore?”

At that she took a deep breath “I quit the paper because my boss is an asshole. His antics on Halloween were a step too far. But that doesn’t mean I have no intentions of working ever again. I'm currently taking a long overdue sabbatical.”

Blanc studied her again, almost as if he was weighing something up and she once more began to fidget and Ransom decided he’d had enough.

"Okay, I’m done being polite,” Ransom moved his arm from around his girl and stepped towards Blanc, placing himself directly between the detective and the woman. “You've interrupted out little post brunch love affair and I’m horny, so…do you need help finding the door, or can your super sleuth skills figure the way back out of it on their own?”

“Miss Y/L/N?” Blanc spoke, his eyes locked onto Ransom’s. Ransom felt the nerve in his jaw twitch, the fact that Blanc wasn’t scared of him irritated him no end.

There was a pause and then her voice came clearly from behind him as she spoke, “If you'd be so kind as to not tell my family where I am, I'd appreciate it. I prefer this time without their unwanted opinion.” Her voice was steady, measured almost. “You can tell them that you've found me, alive and well."

Blanc knew he wasn't welcome, he had proof of life and no reason to suspect foul play. He stood, his long wool coat falling into place around him. "Well, then I guess my work is done." He brushed passed Ransom and gave a quick quip, "I'm warning you...."

"What was that?" His girl wondered. She'd heard him.

"Have a nice day," Blanc nodded curtly “I’ll see myself out.”

You watched the back of the detective as he left the large living room, Ransom following him to the doorway where he stood, arms folded, watching. The sound of Blanc’s feet on the tiles of the hallway grew fainter and fainter until eventually they stopped completely. The latch of the door sounded and you fell to the closest thing you could sit on. Your while body shook with a chill that crept into your bones but not from the cold. No, you were sick to your stomach in fear and worry. The bile of deceit rose to your throat and had you not already spewed up your breakfast it would have most likely decorated the carpet of the study. Instead, you swallowed down the sour bile as Drysdale approached you and you glanced up at him, blinking whilst he studied you for a second, his face passive. As you held his gaze, something akin to amusement flashed in his cold blue eyes and a twisted smirk spread across his face.

“Your acting skills certainly improved there along the way, at the end you were almost award worthy.” He drawled, his hands falling to his hips. “Even Meryl Streep would be jealous.”

"Fuck you," your voice quivered.

He arched an eyebrow, an amused expression on his features “Already played that game Sweetheart, and carry on back-chatting me and you’ll be back in the basement.”

"Wh... What?"

"You pulled through in the end there. It was a rough start, but you convinced Colonel Sanders that you were here on your own."

“Colonel Sanders?” You blinked, “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Blanc. CSI KFC.” He replied. You were none the wiser as to what he was going on about and it must have shown on your face as he simply rolled his eyes. "Never mind...the point is, sweetheart, I'm in a good mood. And seeing as you behaved...”

"What?" Your voice was quiet, meek.

"If you shut that pretty little mouth for longer than a second, I'll explain." His tone was measured but you didn’t miss the underlying threat.

“Sorry.” Your eyes fell to the floor, your left hand worrying at your right.

“Eyes on me.” He barked and your head whipped up automatically and he smirked at you as you took a deep breath. “As I was saying, seeing as you were such a good girl, I thought I’d reward you, let you stay up here with me for the day.”

The notion shocked you. Your mouth went dry and you couldn't make sense of it. But then, the more you thought about it, the more his audacity irked you. He’d imprisoned you, used you, abused you…and now he was implying that staying in his company was a fucking reward.

“Wow, thanks…” you blurted before you could stop yourself, sarcasm lacing your tone. As soon as the words had slipped from your mouth you felt panic flood your system as he stepped towards you and reached out, his right hand curling around your throat.

"Don’t push me sweetheart.” His voice was low as his fingers squeezed the column of your neck, a reminder of how easily he could simply end it all whenever he chose.

And just like that the softness that he had displayed with you earlier that morning was gone, and the shutters were back up. You swallowed hard, feeling the strain of your throat against his touch, his eyes now dark and full of that familiar angry lust and desire that chilled you from head to toe. Blanc had riled him, gotten underneath his skin, that was easy to see while your mouthy comments fuelled that ire. And as such, he needed an escape, an outlet.

And he was going to get it from you.

“Now on your knees and finish what you started."

**** Part 4

#murder he wrote #dark ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale #dark ransom drysdale x reader #dark ransom x reader #dark ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale fic #chris evans #chris evans characters

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