17. dick me down, daddy.

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"Want me to show you?"

I just stare up at him, kind-of-a-little-fuck-it-completely stunned at how one person can go from adorable to hardcore Daddy in just a matter of seconds.

It's a gift, I must say.

"I-" I swallow the lump in my throat as a low chuckle falls from his lips. "I don't-"

"Kidding," Luke whispers, the smug smirk still on his face as he abruptly pulls back; leaving me speechless, a little annoyed, and a whole lot aggravated.

I curse at him internally in my head as he straightens his posture, grinning. The fucker knows what he's doing.

I swear, if I was still fourteen year old me, I would have had my diary laid flat out on the kitchen table by now; scribbling frantically as well as screaming.

"Fuck you," I mumble, massaging my temples and hopping off of the stool.

I've only been here for twenty minutes and I feel like I've already had my night's worth of unkempt sexual frustration.

Luke just laughs, holding a hand out for me to take.

"Maybe later."

We walk into his living room, me still looking around in awe, trying to figure out how one person can live in such a big house. My house isn't small, but compared to this, it's practically a tiny dollhouse.

"What do you want to watch?" Luke asks me, falling onto his knees in front of the TV. "Something scary, funny, a chick flick, or-"

"What chick flicks do you have?" I question, falling onto the floor next to him.

"Guess," he nudges me, smiling slightly. I roll my eyes.

"Please don't tell me you have Mean Girls,"

"I consider you a fake fan if you think I don't," Luke notes, and I laugh. "As much as I love it, though, I kinda wanna watch something else."

"There's a surprise," I say, flicking through his countless DVDs. I didn't think he'd have so many; people usually turn to Netflix nowadays. "What about this one?"

"Insidious?" he asks, an entertained smile on his face. "You sure?"

"I've watched it before," I say. "It's not that scary."

"Bet you you'll scream about seven times throughout this entire film," Luke says, sliding it into the player. "Maybe even eight."

"Why so specific?" I raise an eyebrow. "And don't act like you won't be screaming too. It's a horror film,"

"Yeah, but I'm strong," he states, making me scoff with a light laugh. "Okay, you get comfy on the couch. I'll go get us some popcorn."

I nod, flopping down onto the large sofa just opposite the TV. Half of Luke's living room wall is just plain glass, with a terrace overlooking the shrubbery outside.

It's a perfect place to stand if you want a full view of the fancy neighbourhood around you. It's also a perfect place for a masked murderer to stand and tap his bloodied knife against the window, but maybe that's just me.

I get comfy where I am, snuggling into the cushions and waiting patiently for Luke to come back.

The film opens with a few pre-credits and I suck in a deep breath; I love horror films, I just hate the build up. I want to say that I find it unnecessary, but really, it just makes me more tense.

It's not too long before Luke comes back, a large bowl of popcorn in his hand. He throws his phone onto one side of the couch before flopping down right next to it; evidently bringing himself closer to me.

"Just ordered pizza," he grins, placing the bowl in between us. I nod, though I know he'll probably regret that choice once the films gives us a demon jumpscare and the doorbell goes off.

About halfway through the movie, the bowl is on the floor, I'm hiding behind my hands and Luke's leaning back in confidence; one arm around the back of the couch, the other one around me.

I'd probably be blushing right now if the screen didn't have a bunch of dead, decaying and disturbingly demonic people displayed on it.

"Luke?" I mumble, voice muffled by my fingers.

"Yes, Soph?"

"How many times have I screamed since the beginning?"

He lets out a light laugh, running his hand up and down my back in an attempt to comfort me.

"Seven-"

"Oh, so it's not that bad-"

"-Teen." he finishes, and I groan.

"Babe, you can scream, you know. You don't have to prove anything to me," Luke says. Immediately, my mind wanders into deep, dark, dick-me-down-Daddy territory.

"No," I whine, barely able to look through the cracks between my fingers. "You haven't screamed once throughout this entire thing. What the hell are you, a robot?"

"Nah, figured you'd be scared enough for the both of us," he jokes. I can't argue with him there.

Suddenly, a loud bang sounds throughout the surround-sound speakers in Luke's living room, and a red face pops up on screen.

I don't even think, I just do; I end up with my head buried in his chest, legs over his in an attempt to get away from my own empty corner.

"Fucking hell," I whine for about the hundredth time tonight, feeling my heart thump at a disturbingly fast pace in my chest.

"L-Language," Luke says, a low grumble at the bottom of his throat.

Swear some more, I think to myself. Do it. You'll hear that little grumble again and it'll be your masturbation fuel for the next few weeks.

I consider pulling away and asking him what's wrong, for the last time I heard him stutter, it was when we first met. But I'm much too terrified to do so.

"I'm sorry," I mumble, only the slightest bit able to crane my neck towards the TV.

The suspense is gone- thankfully- but it's one of those moments where even during the calmest scenes, you can never really feel safe.

"Are you okay?" Luke asks. I feel his arms shift, and suddenly they're not on the sofa anymore; they're around my waist.

Part of me tells me to do something, to shake him off and crawl back to where I was sitting forty-five minutes prior. That would probably be the best- yet disappointing- thing to do.

But the other part of me is yelling at me to stay, because I have possibly the best current seat in existence; Luke's lap.

Which, in the least creepiest way possible, I don't really want to move from.

"Y-Yes," I mumble. Another loud sound resonates, shaking the floor beneath us as some frantic running begins to take brisk place on the TV.

"Are you sure?" Luke's lips ghost against the nape of my neck and I shiver, the feel of them somewhat comforting to me.

Even though, it gives me butterflies I can't control, and right now- when I need a distraction the most- I revel in it.

"Why the hell did I pick this film?" I mumble, sounding like an irritating kid who just got herself into some mess and has no idea how to get out. So basically, me with every single little decision I make in life.

"It's not that scary," Luke says smoothly, brushing my hair behind my shoulder.

"Oh yeah? Then why the fuck am I shaking," I mutter grumpily, more annoyed at myself for not being able to handle a damn film.

"Language, Sophie." he warns me again.

I sigh, pouting lightly. "I'm sorry. I'm still shaking, though."

"Because you're a little girl. And little girls shouldn't be watching scary movies like this," there's a change in Luke's voice; something different that I can't quite put my finger on.

He sounds more assertive, more dominant, somehow. It's as if an invisible barrier has been broken between us and he doesn't have to hold himself back anymore.

Thank fuck for that. the devil on my shoulder smirks. I don't even think about the angel; at this point, she probably has little red horns and a pitchfork too.

I try not Luke's tone change get to me, but when I feel his lips press gently against my neck, I know avoiding it is no use.

"Sophie?" he murmurs. His breath is hot and rugged on my skin, and as I try to calm my heartrate, I lean my back against his chest so that I can unintentionally feel his.

"Yes, Luke?" since I know my voice is inaudible at this point, I consider saying it again just in case he didn't hear me the first time.

His hand trails down my leg, light and gentle, as if he's terrified of breaking me. A breath hitches in my throat.

"Am I scaring you?" Luke then whispers.

This is the bit in the film where everything is in ruins and the main character's running from the one thing they need to escape; yet I'm surprisingly calm, and the movie doesn't shake me.

Instead, it's the feel of Luke, and how his body's shifting from underneath mine, and how he locks his fingers through my own.

It's how his lips graze against my ear, his voice raspy to the point where it makes my mind spin and my stomach pound with a million butterflies.

And it's how a satisfied sigh- a quiet, borderline growl- leaves his lips as I shake my head no; eyes fluttering shut at the feel of the gentle kisses being trailed down my neck.

"N-No."

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