#but wanting to make it happen myself fuckin hurts does anyone have any idea how to cope

[icannotgetoverbirds]

fun fact! did you know that reddit reading comprehension is at least almost as abysmal as tumblr reading comprehension? they aren't any better than us!

[loodgack]

people have no fuckin idea about, how much WORK I put into Smith and Ike/Quentin's characters myself, after they were teased to us. both HGP and then, HG gave us the perfect characters, and then left us alone with them, giving barely any info.

first 6 images (6th is random sketch) - the VERY FIRST art / comic I've made with Smith, Ike and Guest(Theodore) in the beginning of 2020. the very first. Smith was a monster, a cold, cruel creature, who cared about noone, but himself and his own needs, and his own job. Ike was a silly idiot, who immediately fell for him as soon as they intreracted. he knew he could die at any moment[since he had lung problems], and he wanted someone he can enjoy his remaining time with. he desperately needed someone, and that someone happened to be Smith, who he encountered in the dark amusement park, during his shift. and while their first two meetings ended up horribly, with Ike being literally injured, Smith had to realize soon, that he has changed inside. he does seem to care about Ike, even if just a tiny bit.

last image - and it took me MONTHS, maybe even a YEAR to make Smith likeable. to make Smith bearable, he's still selfish, and he still doesn't care about anyone but himself - and except one single soul, the only person, who never hurt him. Smith is the same cold man, the same man who hates, despises humanity as a whole... but he has someone in his life, who he can have hope in.

[zaeliaeve]

𝓡𝓸𝓼𝓮𝓼 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓕𝓵𝓪𝓶𝓮 [𝓚.𝓜] 𝟏𝟖+ Chapter 5

DISCLAIMER: 18+ ONLY!!! MINORS DNI

WARNINGS: mentions of power dynamics, daddy kink, oral sex, and squirting.

Life inside the firm was changing.

Bianca had spent almost every moment there beside Jude these days, partially because she had to since they shared a desk, but also because they had been getting along well so she didn't mind at all.

It was a nice distraction from Kylian, for whom she had decided that needed space from. Distantly knowing he had a girlfriend was one thing, but to see it in front of her face was a whole other. He told Camille he loved her knowing he just had sex with Bianca and she was scared to death underneath his desk, and then in that same conversation with Camille seemingly wanting to work things out.

It was too overwhelming.

She decided to just say nothing and pretend nothing happened, ignoring Kylian's attempts to reach out. There were texts sent throughout the days and calls made, but she didn't answer any of them no matter how badly she wanted to.

KM: I know I fucked up I'm sorry Bianca

KM: I had to defuse the situation, my feelings for you have never changed

KM: Bianca I promise I never meant to hurt you, things are just complicated

KM:  Please just give me the chance to explain myself and then I promise I'll leave you alone after if that's what you want.

KM: I miss you

Reading Kylian's pleas broke her heart. Bianca wanted nothing more than to answer back and scream at the top of her lungs that she missed him too, but she knew that it was a horrible idea. The moment they would speak again, she knows she would be like putty in his hands all over again.

In her mind, she wondered, does he miss me or does he miss the sexual fulfillment?

There was an odd gray area of What is this? What could it ever even be? Had it been only sex for him?

It was testing seeing his face every day and having to hold strong. Kylian would leave longing glances as he walked past but she would pretend that she was suddenly busy with work. His face would appear in her dreams every night and she thought about him most mornings.

Kylian was inescapable. There was no one that would understand her situation so she was forced to just suck up the pain and just hoped it would go away with time, but luckily there was someone interesting around to brighten up her days.

Jude Bellingham is objectively likable.

The British native is young, polite, ambitious, and easy on the eyes; which makes for a magnetic personality that everyone was drawn to. He offered a new perspective that was well-needed as things began to become stale around the office. The higher-ups loved him, always stopping by at the front desk just to chit-chat about football or ask him how his day was.

Even Sergio Ramos liked him, and Sergio didn't like anyone besides Leo. He was the shiny new toy, and everyone wanted a turn to play with him.

There was something about Jude that absolutely irked Kylian to his core. Maybe it was what Kylian deemed Jude's obnoxious accent, or what he called his kiss-ass personality but each time he saw him, he only liked Jude less.

Perhaps it started when Kylian had gone to the front desk with donuts in an attempt to speak to Bianca again after she's ignored every one of his calls and texts for three days straight.

Kylian clutched the pink box full of powdered pastries in one hand while the other opened the front door, instantly revealing boisterous laughter and pained squeals. Kylian froze in his place when he saw Bianca practically straddling Jude facing away from the door, only a mere two inches away from each other's faces.

"Fuckin' hell Bianca" Jude winced, fingernails digging into her sides.

Bianca's giggles grew louder as she pulled her hand away, twinkly metal tweezers in hand. "I'm sorry that one was right in the middle so I had to get it!" Her thumb soothed the spot that she just plucked from.

"I better look like Idris Elba when you're done."

She shook her head and brought the cold metal back up to his eyebrows. "You'll look even better. Stay still this time or you'll go home with bald 'brows" He could hear the smile in her voice.

Kylian felt like a creep staring at them but he couldn't stop. The way Jude was clutching her like she was his and making her laugh like a schoolgirl caused stinging in Kylian's chest. His nostrils were flared and he was gripping the box so hard he hadn't even noticed it was now dented and crushed.

Jude's eyes eventually caught Kylian's and his chair moved back almost causing Bianca to fall backwards. "Good morning, Mr. Mbappé" He tried to regain his composure, hand catching Bianca's back to steady her and spin her around.

She looked like a deer caught in headlights, her large eyes wide and thick eyebrows raised. "Good morning, sir." There wasn't a hint of anything but professionalism in her voice no matter how hard Kylian analyzed it.

Kylian ignored the duo's greetings and tossed the disfigured box in front of Bianca before heading to the elevators in a discombobulated rush. He could have sworn he heard Jude whisper to Bianca faintly "What a dickhead."

Events like that only kept happening.

Kylian waltzed into the breaking room after a long meeting, head pounding after the hours of discussion about crunching numbers without break. He swore he never wanted to look at another calculator again, or at least for the next hour.

By this time usually, the break room was filled with people grabbing snacks or coffee, but it was surprisingly empty. The silence provided a needed serene peace for Kylian after the day he had. A loud creaking broke his calmful state, only to be even more annoyed when he saw who it was.

Jude entered first with Bianca just behind him, both of them holding the same design of takeout bags, clearly ordering from the same place. He was off to the side so he wouldn't be surprised if the pair haven't noticed him.

They sat at the small table and laid out their food in platters. Kylian tried not to watch this time, keeping his eyes concentrated on his almost full container of yogurt. "Damn, this has broccoli in it" Jude sighed as he looked down at his rice.

Bianca leaned her head forward to get a peak at the paper plate to spot the green vegetable. "You don't like broccoli?"

Jude took the plastic fork and started picking out one of the many pieces of broccoli "Don't like isn't a strong enough word-"

"That's two words."

"-Whatever. Either way, I hate it."

Bianca picked up her plate and held it out to him. "Do you want mine? I like broccoli so it's kind of a treat for me."

Jude took her plate and slid his over to her in exchange. "I should have guessed you'd like broccoli, nerd."

His tone became serious for a moment. "Thank you though that's very kind of you, Bee."

She smiled genuinely at him before digging her fork into the rice.

Kylian's voice broke them out of their own world as he stood up, his chair squeaking against the floor. "How cute." He didn't mean for it to come out as sarcastic as it did.

Bianca's lips downturned and her eyes fell into her lap. "Oh hello I didn't see you Mr.Mbappé. How are you?" Jude's grinned at the Frenchman.

"You two are always together these days. Are you guys dating?" Kylian tried to keep his tone casual, but he had to force the sentence out of his teeth.

Now it was Bianca's turn to storm out, leaving her vegetable rice behind on the table. Jude's upper lip rose and his eyebrows knitted together with confusion as the door shut behind her quietly. There was an awkward silence for a moment while Jude packed up the leftover food.

"I think I should go see what's bothering her. Have a good lunch sir" He was off, taking the plastic bags with him as he left.

Kylian let out a heavy sigh and threw away the rest of his yogurt.

Stalking any of your or ex-romantic interests accounts is never a good idea. There is nothing you can find that will bring you satisfaction, especially if you go in looking for the bad things. The things you know will hurt you.

Bianca knew this was an especially dumb idea seeing as Kylian had a whole life outside of her, but she couldn't stop herself as her thumbs typed in his name into the search bar. Shockingly he was public and held a normal following of about a thousand followers.

The most recent picture was of him and his brother at what appeared to be a football match with the caption Good times with my bro @ EthanMbappé *french flag emoji.*

Kylian looked relaxed, like the stress of his life had taken the day off as he sat with his brother on the sidelines, teeth showing and sunglasses up showing the reflection of the flash of his camera.  Bianca found herself smiling as she scrolled to the next picture.

The next photo was of him and Ariella dated to the fall set outside a classroom with Ariella clinging onto her dad as he held her with a big grin in contrast to her pout. The caption read So hard to say goodbye to ma coccinelle *heart emoji*

Bianca clicked on the comments to see the first one was Camille, followed by his mother and another random account whom she assumed was his friend. Camille wrote a simple My loves!!!

She felt bad for laughing when she noticed Kylian hadn't responded to the comment but responded to his friends.

Bianca somehow ended up on his mom's page scrolling through their Christmas photos. She held the phone in one hand while she took a sip of her poorly made horchata in the other and when she set the drink back down, she dropped the phone flat on its face.

Her first reaction was to cringe and hope the screen was not shattered, but when she picked it back up it was far worse. On Kylian's comment saying he loves his mother, there was a highlighted red heart showing she liked it somewhere in the process of the phone falling.

Bianca screamed and slapped her hand to her mouth, quickly unliking the comment. There was a thick silence amongst herself as she sat in shock, quietly praying that he has his notifications off.

Things stayed stagnant for the next hour, Bianca paced around her living room hoping that he would never notice. Her heart nearly jumped out of her chest when she heard the familiar Whatsapp notification.

Bianca was horrified to check the app but she knew she had to.

KM: Stalker ;)

She held her face to the pillow as she let out a long wail, her face burning with shame. Maybe it was the embarrassment or maybe she just outright missed him but no matter the reason the responded within five minutes.

B: I could say the same for you

Before Bianca could leave the app he was typing again.

KM: You're deflecting

KM: Just say you missed me too

At that moment nothing else mattered, no other distraction or person between them was stopping her as read his texts.

B: Maybe just a little bit

KM: You're so cute

KM: Do you have some free time? We should talk about everything

B: I think the real question is do you have free time?

KM: I'll be there in an hour let me take care of some things

Bianca rushed out of her bed like a bat out of hell. All of her efforts for the past week have gone to the wayside as she jumped into the shower and prepared like she was going off to war, smothering herself in every fancy soap, cream, and glitter she could.

There was enough time for her to take time to really prepare how she wanted to in hopes of wanting to impress Kylian. She had managed to get ready with a spare five minutes but she sat waiting for twenty before Kylian had texted her again.

KM: I'm outside

Three knocks proceed the text.

Bianca walked over to the door unsure of what to expect, but when she opened the door she was greeted by a comfortably dressed Kylian sporting a black Valentino hoodie with matching sweatpants. She wasn't sure how to approach him so she just kissed both of his cheeks in a neutral greeting.

He stopped to take off his white sneakers at the doormat while Bianca shut the door behind him. "You smell good, ma belle" he noted as he stepped onto her carpet.

"Thank you, so do you."

That was an understatement. Just smelling his familiar strong cologne made her press her thighs together. It was hypocritical to think that he possibly wanted her just for her body when all she can think about is getting on her knee's from him, but it was hard not to when he stood there in the flesh looking finer than ever in his sweatsuit.

They walked over to her couch and sat beside each other but their bodies leaned so they could face each other. "Sorry about being a little late I had to finish speaking with Ibrahimovic about-"

Bianca couldn't focus, only watching his mouth move but not processing his words. She swung her leg up across his lap and rubbed slowly, hoping to get her point across. "You little brat you aren't listening to me" Kylian's hands found her leg and guided her.

"I am listening to you." She lied, sitting up so she could use her palm instead.

Kylian grew underneath her hand, the thick material of his pants not shielding his excitement. "Ahh- as much as I wanna do this we have a lot of things we have to discuss princess" He couldn't stop himself from bucking up into her touch.

Bianca's hand froze and her lower lip pouted out as she batted her long eyelashes at him. "Can't we talk about it after Daddy?"

His eyes darkened as he leaned forward to crash his lips onto hers roughly, tongue slipping into her mouth when she gasped. Butterflies erupted in Bianca's stomach as Kylian lightly sucked on her tongue teasingly.

Bianca could feel the puddle pooling between her legs and wanted relief so she crawled onto Kylian's lap. "So eager tonight" he mumbled as he trailed his kisses down into her neck.

She winced loudly as a sharp pain stung her neck, Kylian's teeth biting into the corner of her skin. Kylian sucked harshly until Bianca was whining and clawing at his back. He pulled back with a smile on his face, pressing another quick kiss to the wet spot. "Perfect."

Kylian's thumb grazed over the forming bruise and Bianca slapped his shoulder softly. "Did you give me a hickey?" She asked with disbelief, eyelids low.

"Wanted to remind you that you're mine."

Bianca was so pleased with his response that she didn't even want to break down the irony or think about the repercussions.

She lifted up her shirt so that he could have better access to her body and Kylian wasted no time undoing her bra. Kylian cupped her breast as he bit above her nipple, teeth sinking down into the soft skin to leave another mark. "All mine." He muttered against her.

His knees sunk into the couch further as he sat up to take his hoodie off, him now wearing a plain white shirt. Kylian stripped that off too before he turned his attention to fully undressing Bianca.

Bianca's hips rose as he tore her underwear off, stroking his neck as he left bites all down her body to her stomach where he started to become more careful and sweet, licking and caressing at her curves. "All yours." She repeated back to him as he get lower.

Kylian seemed to be on a mission as he parted Bianca's legs and kissed up her thighs until he reached her  wet center. He licked a long stripe before delving deeper inside, nudging at her clit with his nose.

He teased her for a very short bit, licking everywhere besides where she needed it most. Bianca was whimpering and grasping at the cushions for support. She couldn't take it anymore and squeezed her thighs closer to his head.  "Need your big dick inside Daddy" she cried, the heels of her feet digging into his bare back.

Kylian shook his head and lapped at her clear juices, causing her to squirm around from oversensitivity "t-too much" she mewled as she gripped his short hair.

He pulled his head up only enough to hover over her clenching hole. "You've been bad, mon bébé. Now you gotta take your punishment like a good girl."

Bianca was practically drooling at his words, bracing herself for whatever he wanted."Yes, daddy."

"You listen so well for me"

His mouth attached to her clit, gently sucking to ease her into it. Bianca's thighs shook as he began to hallow his cheeks against the sensitive bud,  causing tears to well up in her eyes.

Kylian's tongue circled as he continued slurping, groaning at the sweetness of her on his tastebuds. Bianca couldn't stop the tears from falling down her cheeks, the pleasure at a new height. "Haaah daddy, yes!" she practically screamed.

He was enjoying every moment of this, eyes opening to watch her face contort from the overstimulation. Her tears of happiness only caused him to go faster, adding two fingers into her hole when he felt she was ready for it.

His long fingers scissored inside of her at a steady pace making lewd notices as he pushed the slick liquid back into her. The entire room was loud between Bianca's pleading moans and the sound of Kylian gulping at her sopping folds. He began grinding against the couch, his own body throbbing for him to be inside of her.

Bianca's hips were rocking in time with his smooth pink tongue, spreading her mess all over Kylian's face who licked up every ounce he could.

Kylian felt her swollen organ tighten more rapidly signaling she was already close. Bianca was a  mess above him, shoving her fingers in her mouth in an attempt to subdue herself but failing. The strange pressure had built up once again and Bianca now understood what it meant.

"I think I'm g-gonna-" She stopped to let out a scratchy moan, unable to hold back any longer.

Kylian didn't stop pumping his fingers deep inside of her but he did pull his mouth away to stick his tongue out in order to catch the shooting liquid. "Daddy, daddy fuck oh fuck" she babbled out, grinding against his fingers.

He drank up the liquid like it was water, delving back into her wet heat to catch the last of it he could while she rode out her orgasm on his fingers, shaking and squeezing around his thick digits.

Bianca's screams quieted and Kylian pressed one last long kiss to her clit before getting up and enveloping his tongue into hers, sharing her taste with herself. Bianca wrapped her arms around his neck as they swapped their spit back and forth in a kiss. "Do you taste yourself, princess? Do you see why I'm addicted?" He asks as he sticks his coated fingers in her warm mouth.

She hummed around them in agreement and bobbed her head against the shiny skin. "I want to be the only one doing this to you. You want that too don't you, baby?" Kylian took his slimy fingers out to squeeze her cheeks together.

Bianca couldn't get out anything, only a quick nod. "We'll figure this all out. One day it'll be just us." He yanked her face to his for another sloppy kiss before grabbing her naked body and placing her on the floor in front of him.

"Open your pretty mouth for Daddy."

It felt like a dream, like what he was saying was too good to be true. Just them?  It's everything she wants to hear.  All she wishes for is him in any capacity she can take and it only feels more true right now.

Bianca wondered to herself how she could go days without speaking with him and vowed to never do it again if possible. 

The two of them went on until Kylian spilled his seed down her throat, praising her for being so good to him. Bianca was in pure bliss as she gulped him down, only pulling up when Kylian told her to.

They cleaned up and nestled together on the couch in a blanket, some random movie in French playing in the background. It felt like heaven on Earth being in his arms once again, being able to play pretend for a couple of hours.

This time, Kylian was adamant about not falling asleep because he had seen how that ended last time and did not want to repeat it.

Kylian ran one hand along her now-clothed stomach caringly while the other was entangled with Bianca's. "What do you wanna do?" Kylian asked, head leaning down at the girl to see her face.

Bianca's eyes didn't leave the TV. "About what?"

In her head she thought, Please don't ruin the moment. Let's stay like this just a little longer.

"You and I. We're in such a fucked position, Mon amour."

Bianca's perfect bubble busted and they're forced to once again face reality.

When she didn't answer, Kylian kept talking. "If anyone found out about us, I would lose my job. Getting involved with anyone below me in the company's hierarchy will get me fired, no questions asked. It opens the company up to potential lawsuits and I'd be a liability. You know that, Bianca." He kept his tone as nice as he could but stern to emphasize the significance.

She had known that for a long time but pushed it down as far as she could but she knows she can't anymore. Truthfully she had been focusing so much on his relationship that she almost forgot about the risks that came with this. The danger was too realistic, too important to ignore any longer.

"We'll be more careful. No more fooling around at work," Bianca tried to bargain, setting up from his hold to meet his gaze.

Kylian looked empathic as he pursed his lips together. "This is my entire career on the line. I've worked all of my adult life to get up to this point."

Bianca frowned and tried to think of what to say, but her mind drew a blank. What reasoning is there to say to refute him? He's not wrong. "I'm sorry, Kylian."

He breathed heavily out of his nostrils and brought the back of her hand up to meet his lips. "I don't want to lose my job, but I can't quit this either."

She couldn't look at him anymore. He still had the power to make her just as nervous and shy as the day she first started liking him so she turned her head to look back at the TV.  He brought his hand to her chin, nudging her to look at him again and she complied, her cheeks warming up.

"I don't want to lose you," Bianca told him, hands wrapping around his arm.

Kylian shook his head like that wasn't anything she should be concerned about. "You won't. You're like a little worm in my brain now that I can't get rid of" He joked, dimples poking out as he smiled.

Bianca rolled her eyes playfully. "How romantic."

He laced his hands with hers. "Seriously though. You're always there in my head. No matter where I am, I'm just waiting until the next time I can be with you. Unless I'm with Ariella of course."

She would never, ever want to be before Ariella so she nodded understandingly. "I feel the same way. We just have to be a lot more sneaky, and definitely no more work sex until I find a new job."

Kylian was visibly shocked. "Another job?"

Bianca looked at him like it was the easiest decision in the world. "I'm a secretary, it's not exactly the most rare job out there. You have a daughter to feed and I'm not going to ruin her life just because her dad decided to hook up with his employee. With all due respect of course." She lightened her tone at the end in order to soften the blow.

"It's honestly not the worst idea you've had. I'd feel guilty about you leaving though." Kylian frowned at her.

He looked at her concernedly, like he wanted her to really think about her words. "Let's say things don't work out between us. Then what, I'm forced to look at your face every day for the rest of my life and torture myself? It'll be even worse if it does work out because then you'll be out of a job." Bianca explained.

"So will you, if you leave because of me."

She made a 'seriously?' face at him. "You're only two positions away from being CEO of the highest-rated finance firm in all of France and you're only twenty-four. I'll be fine taking calls at another place and quite frankly, I don't like working there all that much either."

Kylian's flashed his teeth at her words. "Keep stroking my ego, I like it."

She stuck her middle finger out to him and he bit it playfully.

"You have a good heart, but don't do anything rash. Just think about it, the decision is completely yours." Kylian kissed the side of her head and melted at the thought of how giving she was.

He cupped the sides of her face as he kissed her lovingly. When they pulled away, he noticed a flash in her eyes. "Wait a minute what about Camille?'

Kylian looked confused before groaning and leaning back on the couch as if it all flooded back to him. "Fuck Bianca we're really in a messy situation."

She remained deadpan. "You don't say."

He rubbed his hand across his forehead, stress clearly weighing on him again. "Promise you we will talk about it tomorrow. I just wanted to get the job talk of the way tonight so we can clear some things up. I want to spend this next hour holding you before I have to leave."

Bianca settled into his arms again with a grin, happy to not have to face any more of the big problems today. She knows the Camille dilemma comes with more complications and she was not in the mood to dissect that today.

Kylian rubbed all over her body absentmindedly as they enjoyed each other's company, attention turning back to the movie. Bianca finally felt safe for the first time in a long time.

She lazily picked up her phone when she got a text notification and opened it directly in front of Kylian.

J: u've stood me up for hot chocolate that's vile bee

J: have you died?

-

𝔸/ℕ: 𝕋𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕜 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕚𝕟𝕘! 𝕋𝕣𝕦𝕥𝕙𝕗𝕦𝕝𝕝𝕪, 𝕀 𝕙𝕒𝕕 𝕞𝕠𝕣𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕔𝕠𝕟𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕤𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟 𝕡𝕝𝕒𝕟𝕟𝕖𝕕 𝕓𝕦𝕥 𝕀 𝕛𝕦𝕤𝕥 𝕙𝕒𝕕 𝕥𝕠 𝕔𝕦𝕥 𝕚𝕥 𝕦𝕡 𝕓𝕖𝕔𝕒𝕦𝕤𝕖 𝕟𝕠 𝕠𝕟𝕖 𝕨𝕒𝕟𝕥𝕤 𝕥𝕠 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕 𝟛𝕜 𝕠𝕗 𝕛𝕦𝕤𝕥 𝕔𝕠𝕟𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕤𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟 𝕀 𝕕𝕚𝕕𝕟'𝕥 𝕨𝕒𝕟𝕥 𝕥𝕠 𝕓𝕠𝕣𝕖 𝕪'𝕒𝕝𝕝! 𝕄𝕠𝕣𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤 𝕨𝕚𝕝𝕝 𝕓𝕖 𝕒𝕕𝕕𝕣𝕖𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕚𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕟𝕖𝕩𝕥 𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕓𝕦𝕥 𝕀 𝕙𝕒𝕕 𝕥𝕠 𝕘𝕖𝕥 𝕠𝕟𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕖𝕝𝕖𝕡𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕥𝕤 𝕠𝕦𝕥 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕣𝕠𝕠𝕞 𝕥𝕠𝕕𝕒𝕪 𝕙𝕒𝕙𝕒. 𝕊𝕠 𝕔𝕦𝕣𝕚𝕠𝕦𝕤 𝕥𝕠 𝕙𝕖𝕒𝕣 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕤 𝕠𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕁𝕦𝕕𝕖 𝕧 𝕂𝕪𝕝𝕚𝕒𝕟 𝕤𝕚𝕥𝕦𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟! 𝔸𝕝𝕝 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕟𝕚𝕔𝕖 𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕞𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕤 𝕜𝕖𝕖𝕡 𝕞𝕖 𝕘𝕠𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕀 𝕔𝕒𝕟'𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕜 𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕪𝕠𝕟𝕖 𝕨𝕙𝕠 𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕞𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕕 𝕖𝕟𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙, 𝕋ℍ𝔸ℕ𝕂 𝕐𝕆𝕌 !!!!!!! <𝟛𝟛𝟛𝟛𝟛𝟛𝟛

[l-eternity-l]

- Loving you

summary. - with her brothers being busy performing, Elvis is in charge of taking Mercedes home.

pairing. - Elvis x Black OC

warnings. - none really, just throwing up

word count. - 2k

author's note. - I've been meaning to post this chapter for like 4 days but I've been so tired that I literally just kept putting it off lol. thank you for actually reading the first chapter! I've wanted to write for a while and seeing that people actually like what I put out means a lot.

 ═══════ ≪ °❈° ≫  ═══════ ≪ °❈° ≫  ═══════ 

MEMPHIS, TENNESSEE 1957

The Country Club Parking Lot

  Raymond's deep voice carries through the air as he screams at his little sister. Even though Mercedes could have told you what her oldest brother would say, it didn't make it hurt any less.

  "I'm sorry! okay?" Mercedes argues.

  "Yeah sorry just ain't gonna cut it this time Mercedes!" she lay flat on her stomach in the back of their convertible, trying her best to keep her dizziness at bay.

  Luther starts to say something to Mercedes, but she completely blocks him-- having already heard enough of their bickering.

  Mercedes's head was pounding, and their yelling was only making it worse. She starts to wonder why people even drink alcohol, It's like poison. If it were up to her she'd make it illegal and ban it from every state in the U.S.

  "Mercedes, are you even listenin' to me?" the girl rolls over, using the side of the door to hoist her upper body from the leather seats.

  Anyone could see that Mercedes wasn't herself.

The usually put-together girl had her long curls all over the place, blocking most of her vision. Her face was flushed and everything she said had a delayed reaction.

  "No" she whispers before returning to her original position.

  "Do you not understand what could have happened to you? you could have gotten hurt."

  "Oh, so what? I get a little bit tipsy and you guys just think I'm gonna get stabbed in the street" she rolls onto her back "News flash Luther, I know how to take care of myself"

  "But you don't!" Luther yells, louder than his previous brothers "You don't understand what could have happened! What if he forced himself on you? huh? Then what would you have done, because I know for a fact you can't fight him!" Ronnie places his hand on Luther's shoulder

"Calm down, she's just-" he throws Ronnie's hand off with aggression

"Don't tell me to calm down and don't fuckin' touch me!" with that, Luther walks away from the car--taking a break from the situation at hand, but Ronnie knew it wouldn't be his last outburst of the night.

"The main thing is that she's okay," Ronnie says, adjusting his glasses as glances over at the intoxicated girl. "When we take her home and put some water in her she'll come around".

"Whoa whoa whoa, What do you mean take her home? We gotta be back on stage in seven minutes, it takes thirteen to even get back to town" Jerome reminds his brothers. "Just put the hood up and lock her in the car, she'll be fine" Raymond slaps the back of his brother's head.

"We ain't lockin' her in the car, she's not a dog" The youngest brother puts his hands up in defense.

"Well I don't see no one else comin' up with any ideas"

"Just give me a second to think" Ronnie mumbles with his head in his hands.

  Of all the times their sister has gotten them into a sticky situation, this one takes the cake.

  From Mercedes's first step, she's been causing trouble for the boys--making a mess that her brothers would have to find a way out of. In her defense, she never does it on purpose.

"Wait guys," Raymond says, nodding over to Elvis-- who had been standing back with his hands in his pockets, watching the situation unfold.

  Now, he wouldn't have been Raymond's first choice, knowing the man's history of being a player and taking any chance he could get with a pretty woman--but seeing as there was no one else around that he knew on a first-name basis, He had to settle.

  Ronnie sends his older brother a knowing smile as he makes his way to Elvis.

"Hey, remember that time your car needed a jump at the gas station" Ronnie brings up

"Uhhh, yeah I do. Down there off of Frank Hill"

"Yeah, yeah" he places his hand on Elvis's shoulder "and you said that you owed me one"

  Now, Elvis wasn't the brightest when it came to guessing games, but it only took all of three seconds for him to realize what the brothers were hinting at.

"Oh, no," Elvis says realization all over his face "no, no. I ain't playin' babysitter!"

"We just need you to take her home for us" Jerome pleads "You know better than the rest of us how people act when a band is late"

"C'mon, man. Do us a solid, just this once" Raymond adds.

  It's times like this that Elvis wonders why he's so determined to be a gentleman. He could have just kept walking like he didn't see the poor girl sprawled against the restroom--but his pride just wouldn't let him.

  He planned to find some cute girl after the party and head to her place after. Maybe have a drink or two, then end the night with a bit of fun. Now he's stuck having to make sure this girl doesn't choke on her own vomit.

"Okay" Elvis sighs reluctantly "I'll take her home for you" Ronnies face holds a wide grin, his appreciation obvious.

"Thanks, man." He pats his shoulder as he pulls his keys out of his pocket. "Here take this. We live on 325 Parkhurst road, it'll be the sixth one on the left."

"Yeah, yeah. Parkhurst 325 on the left" Elvis complained as the rowdy boys say their thanks and rush back to the country club.

  He peers into the Convertable to examine the sleeping girl. She had rolled onto her side and her hair had somehow become even more unruly than before.

  Her long eyelashes lay softly against her flushed cheek as she slept. Her lipstick was slightly smudged but not enough for it to be too noticeable.

  Though she looked like a complete mess, Elvis would be lying if he said he didn't find the girl attractive.

  The singer placed a hand on her shoulder, shaking her slightly. Mercedes stirs but doesn't wake up.

"Come on mama, gotta get up" he's more aggressive this time, shaking Mercedes.

  She lets out a grunt and shrugs his hand off of her shoulder before sitting up.

  "Mornin' sunshine" Elvis teases "You enjoy your little nap?" Mercedes rolls her eyes.

"Where did my brothers go?" she asked trying her best not to fall back over into the car.

"Well honey, they've got a show to put on so I'm takin' you back home" Elvis explains. Mercedes looks him up and down as if she would find the truth somewhere on his body.

"Hmmm" the girl lays back down "m' just glad they finally shut up. Always trying to tell me what to do" she pulls at the loose thread on her dress

"Now don't talk about your brothers like that. They really care 'bout you" Elvis tries his best to stick up for the older Estelles.

Elvis had always wanted siblings, especially when his mom would talk about Jessie—Elvis's late twin brother. He felt as though having siblings would put less pressure on him to take care of everything after his father went to jail.

At a young age, the singer took the responsibility as two sons and a father.

Elvis had to be three men all at once.

He would often stay up at night and think about his late twin. Wondered if they would have the taste in music or like the same foods. It seemed like the more he thought, the worse it hurt.

"You don't understand" She pulls hard at the string, ripping it from her dress "All they ever do is bitch 'bout everythin'. It's like World War III with them boys. We can't even watch the ball game without someone's masculinity getting wounded." Elvis smiles, amused by Mercedes's complaints

"Is that so?" he questions with a smile on his face. The girl nods dramatically

"Oh yeah. Yesterday, Raymond finished the entire case of Pepsi so Luther smashed the crate over his back. It took Ronnie and Jerome half an hour to get 'em to stop" Elvis furrows his brow

"And where was your momma during all of this?" he questions leaning closer to the intoxicated female. Mercedes shrugs

"Don't know" she moves back into a seated position, discarding the string "saw her for the first time in six days this morning, something about her boyfriend Paul"

Mercedes opens the door and stumbles out of the car, Elvis helps her in the process. Though he questions why her mom would be gone for so long just to hang out with her boyfriend, he doesn't question any further and focuses on getting her back to his car.

...

"Atta girl, let it all out" Elvis's soothing voice is drowned out by Mercedes as she vomits onto the plush grass.

The two were parked on the side of the road--Mercedes on her hands and knees with Elvis holding her hair and rubbing small circles on her back.

At first, the ride back home was peaceful. Neither of them talked, just listened to the radio in comfortable silence. It wasn't until they got to the curvier roads that Mercedes's stomach started to turn.

She heaves once again as the putrid taste of vomit coats the inside of her mouth.

Amid her intense puking session, she had completely convinced herself she was going to die any moment now. That her final moments were gonna be spent lying on the ground next to her own vomit.

As if her headache wasn't bad enough, the screeching of cars speeding by surly wasn't helping. Not to mention the rain that had completely drenched the poor girl.

"I don't know why you were even drinkin' in the first place. They don't teach the legal age in those fancy little schools anymore? " There are an infinite number of things you could say to piss off a sick angry drunk--hell sometimes even being in their presents is enough to get you cussed out and beat up. So imagine what making passive-aggressive comments would do.

"Why don't you legally shut the hell up?" She barks back, voice coarse from emptying her insides mere seconds ago

Elvis just chuckles at the girls childish come back.

"Is that what you want me to do?" he says through a smile. Mercedes scoffs as she closes her eyes, trying her best to stop the nausea

"yes Elvis, that actually is what I want you to do," she expires "and while your at it could you also legally back the hell up, or would your lawyer need to present for that?"

The smile on Elvis's face drops when he realizes Mercedes wasn't joking

"Now that ain't no way to talk to the man who's doing you a favor," Elvis says pointful, aggravation growing in his voice. "Don't go getin' your panties all in a twist 'cause you decided to get drunk at five in the damn afternoon"

Mercedes spits, making one last fugal attempt to get the sick taste out of her mouth before she pushes his arm off her shoulder

"Fuck off Presley" she mutters under her breath, beginning to make her way back to the car.

She doesn't get very far before Elvis grips her wrist.

"Who the hell you think it is you're talkin' to!" he calls out. Sharply, Mercedes turns around, throwing her hands up in the air

"Who the hell do you think I'm talking to Elvis! I don't see nobody else standin' out here!"

Mercedes's filter was barely there to begin with, saying whatever popped into her mind without much of a second thought--With some liquid courage in her system, it wasn't much this girl wouldn't say. Even if it meant pissing off her only way back home.

Elvis stood with his hand on his hips, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from escalating the situation. He was borderline shaking with anger, now wet hair sticking to his forehead.

"You better watch the way you talk to me girl" he warns.

Mercedes just scoffs as she looks the pissed-off man up and down as if to challenge him.

"Or what? You gonna raise your voice? Yell at me? Tell my momma?"

"You know someone really outta teach you some manners"

"Your one to talk!" she yells out "I know all about you, Elvis Presley, you spend the whole night with a girl just to leave 'em the second you see sunshine" Elvis lets out an angry breath, running a hand through his drenched hair "Does your mother know what your doin' every night? or is she too busy layin' around too?" Before Mercedes can blink he grips the strap of her dress, balling it up in his fist as he forcefully pulls the girl towards him. Mercedes tries her best to keep a straight face--struggling to maintain her cool composure.

"You foul-mouthed bitch, you ain't gonna speak about my momma that way!" Elvis screamed so loud his face strains "I will slap you till your ears ring, you hear me!"

Mercedes has been yelled at countless times. In class, at home, hell even at drive-ins--But none of them have ever made her feel the way she does now. Her eyes started to get that familiar burn while she tried to think of something else to say.

A quick comeback that would deflect her feelings and make Elvis eventually give up.

But for the first time in 18 years, the girl was a a lost for words.

Mercedes feels the familiar burn in her eyes as she holds her breath, afraid of what Elvis might say next. She tries her best to keep the hot tears from spilling over, but it was only a matter of time until the dam broke loose.

  "Aw, hell," Elvis says as he watches the tears slide down her freckled cheeks. "Look I-" Mercedes pulls herself out of his grasp

  "Just...take me home," she says with what little aggression was still in her body, hurrying back over to Elvis's car

[letterstoagirlthatcanthearme]

Writing this letter to someone who can't hear what I have to say yet, it's ok, I'm ashamed that I feel the need to hide how genuine and deep my emotions run already but i know how you wouldnt be able to believe it and how much it would scare u, shit it scares me!

I fall in love fast and thorough and even before my breakup I was Falling for you. even now that I really dont want to, I'm heartbroken and tired and openly yearning for death but still I'm falling in love with you, and Im so fuckin glad youre making me take it slow like this, I'm glad that even if I was weak you would remind me what we agreed, which is that nothing can happen until circumstances meaningfully change,

But god damnit that only makes me fall for you Harder

It only makes me trust you more when its almost impossible for me to trust anyone at all. It's dangerous, it's scary

I don't know if you know even know yet how much of my heart ive put in your hands already, how easy you could hurt me, how permanent it would be, I really don't know that you have any idea how much I've shared with you about what can and will hurt me.

I don't know if you know how easily you could take advantage of me, how much I would like it, even if it hurt me, especially if it hurt me,

I don't know if you know how much you know about me that no one else does, that thing about the real reason I have a scar on my forehead? Basically no one knows that, not my family, not my exes

Youre one of 3 people ive trusted with the truth behind the convenient lie, the other two used the fragility they sensed in that moment to take advantage of me

I'm still not sure you won't do the same

Nevertheless i continue to fall

I can't think of anything I would want to lie to you about these days Except the depths of my feelings

I can't think of anything I Could bring myself to lie to you about except that

Youd see through me anyways, thank god for that. Im not even sure you Dont have an inkling of how deeply I've fallen already

I just know you Cant believe it.

I have no intention to push the matter, I know you have very good reasons for doubting me, first of which being that I play games, and I can't take my masks off on purpose. Very good reason I must say.

I just, I wish things were different, and they will be and I can be patient, nevertheless

Wish I was brave enough to post this on main but if Rebecca saw this and sent it to you first of all I would die alive, second of all you still I'm wouldn't believe it, youd still think it was a game

[buckys-black-dress]

i don't care, i'm in love

a/n: alright sexies, part two! of my last thing you guys liked! idk if anyone's noticed just yet but the titles are from tame impala's song 'new person, same old mistakes' because the song is fire asf. anyways. enough talking, here it is! enjoy! (sorry this took so long lol, i had no idea where i was going w this plot after part 1.)

warnings: penetrative sex, oral sex (f receiving), choking, cursing. this story is 18+ !!! tap off if you're a minor. this is your warning.

wc: 4k words

[bucky barnes x fem!reader]

read part one here!

-

It's been a few days since your outburst with Bucky in the kitchen. While you haven't made eye contact with him whenever you've been in the same room, you've practically felt his looks from across the room.

The air had definitely shifted in any room where you were both present. Nobody still knows about your past relationship, and you don't intend on telling anyone about it.

You've decided to let Bucky stew in silence, not allowing any leeway. If he wanted to be stubborn, this is where it would land him. He chose his own fate in the end, and now he would have to suffer the consequences.

And it was pretty awkward, to say the least. It was currently movie night in the Avengers Tower, and you were all in the movie theater. Tony had selected a rom-com tonight, as superheroes do. You were sat with Natasha on a loveseat, your legs swung over hers as your shared snacks were laid on your lap for the both of you.

She had, of course, noticed your change in demeanor since your impromptu break-up. You hadn't divulged in the details with her, not wanting to out the relationship. Even though you wanted to be petty as ever, you decided you were going to be the mature one in this situation.

And then Bucky walks in.

With a... another girl?

Maybe you weren't taking the high road after all.

You instantly feel a heat wash over your body, making you want to scream and cry and laugh in incredulity all at the same time.

What the fuck?

"Hey guys, I brought a date to movie night, if that's alright..." His voice sounded like nails on a blackboard to you right now. "This is Sophia."

He says it so simply that no one knows what to say. Everyone spares a glance at you, and for a second, you wonder if he had told anyone.

But everyone had somewhat of an idea that Bucky likes you!

So now, everyone was a bit confused.

"Uhm, yeah, nice to meet ya. Take a seat anywhere." Steve's voice cuts the suffocating silence.

You make brief eye contact with Bucky, but you look away as fast as you had looked in the first place. You felt like there was a golf ball lodged in your throat, and if you didn't stop yourself, you think you would've strangled that motherfu-

You're led out of your train of thought by a light tap on your arm. Natasha gives you a look that's saying, you look like you're about to kill someone. Are you okay?

You shake your head, letting her know you're just fine. Everything's fine. Bucky's over there, with another girl, who's holding his hand. And you've been here wondering for the past two months what's been so wrong about you that he couldn't do the same with you. Let alone even tell people you were in a relationship.

And you're not going to lie. This stung. Really bad.

Although you wanted to sit here and act as unbothered as possible, it was hard. You wanted to enjoy your night, watch your movie, and go to bed. This was a turn of events that you weren't expecting in the least.

The tension in the room was too much, everyone exchanging glances back and forth between you, Bucky, and Sophia. They were all confused. There was an obvious tension between you and Bucky, and although it was never anything serious to them, they all thought he would man up soon enough and ask you out.

Now, sympathetic looks were being shot across the room between all the team members, and no one could say really say anything.

Suddenly, Steve sits up in his seat and glares at his friend.

"Buck, can ya help me bring some snacks from the kitchen?" The blond asks, not waiting for a reply from the brunet.

Once they're safely out of earshot from the movie room, Steve grasps Bucky's shoulder in a tight hold that has Bucky wincing.

"What the hell, man?" His voice comes out strained and laced with confusion.

"Buck, I think I should be asking you that question." Steve says. "Don't play fuckin' dumb with me. You know what I wanna talk about."

"Well, please do enlighten me-"

"Oh would ya drop it? Sophia? I'm sure she's a great gal, but for the past six months you've been bitchin' and moanin' about Y/N." Steve cuts his friend off, trying to gauge the situation.

"I just... things went south. I needed somethin' new... somethin' different." Bucky's voice was meek, almost like he was afraid to admit this to his best friend of 90 years.

"What... whaddaya mean things went... south? Did you tell her you liked her and she rejected you or somethin'?" The blond asks, brows pulled together in confusion.

"I just... I can't really explain to you what happened but... it was bad. I fucked up, Stevie." Bucky's head is still tilted downwards in guilt.

"Buck, you know you can tell me anything, right?" A hand is placed on his shoulder, and he wants to shrug it off, I don't deserve any comfort, he thinks. I did this all by myself.

"Can I just... I'll tell you. But you can't tell anyone. Especially Tony or Nat. Or Wanda." Steve gives him a brief nod, motioning for Bucky to go on.

"Y/N and I had been... seeing each other for the past two months..." Bucky starts to explain, and Steve's eyes are jut about popping out of their sockets by the time he finishes explaining.

A few moments pass, and silence soaks the air surrounding them.

"You... you two were dating... in secret? You didn't tell me?" The look Steve gave Bucky made the latter's insides twist in the worst way possible. He should've told his best friend.

"Steve, I'm sorry I didn't tell you. We agreed to keep it between us until... "

"Until she decided she'd had enough."

"Yeah."

A pregnant pause and flat face followed, and flat face followed, and Bucky's now realizing how much he's fucked up. Not in the first place, per se, but by bringing Sophia here.

"So can you tell me why you've dragged that poor girl here?" Steve breaks the silence first.

"I-I... I met her at a bar a couple nights ago. Needed to get out, have a drink. She came up to me and asked me for my number, and... yeah."

What Bucky didn't explain is that as soon as she started talking to him, she had immediately realized he was painfully in love with someone else. She had been kind, understanding of his situation. Instead of trying to get in bed with him, she sat down with him while he explained to her how he got himself in this mess.

"You know... I can help you..." Sophia tells him with innocent eyes.

"Really? How?" Bucky's tone was incredulous, like the mere idea of doing something about this whole thing was possible.

"Well, she seems to care about you a lot. But maybe you just need to get a... reaction out of her. She's unbothered now, she says she 'moved on.' Show her she hasn't." She explains.

"But...how?"

And thus... this situation was born.

"So... Sophia has absolutely no interest in you, and you brought her here to make Y/N jealous?" Steve looks at his friend like he has three heads, and Bucky now realizes just how dumb this all looks.

"Well... yeah. This was a bad idea, wasn't it? I should just go take Sophia home-"

"No! You already got this far, and if you do that it might give Y/N the wrong idea. Just- just go with it for the rest of the night and see what happens." Steve says. "Now, let's get the snacks."

Bucky helps him, and they head back into the movie room. He notices your tense form against Natasha. Sophia's making conversation with Sam, and if you were in a cartoon, you're sure there would be steam coming out of your ears.

The movie goes by in a blur, and even though your eyes were glued to the screen, you feel like you didn't even watch the movie. You were too busy being hyperaware of the way Sophia held onto Bucky's arm like if was her lifeline, and quite frankly, you wanted to punch the living daylights out of the both of them.

Once the movie's finished and the lights turn on, you waste no time in heading to your room after a quick goodnight to everyone.

You're getting ready for bed with slams of closet doors and dresser drawers, absolutely enraged with everything. Why was this bothering you so much? But more importantly, how was Bucky so quick to move on? Like you were nothing to him? Like you were the dirt under his shoe?

And although you were too proud to say it, it stung like a motherfucker.

Before you could get ahead of yourself, a knock is coming from your door.

You're sure it's Natasha trying to make sure you're alright, but after months of acting unaffected, all you wanted to do was get under your covers and cry.

"Nat, I'm sorry but I'm really not in the mood-" But when you swung the door open, it was none other than your ex-boyfriend."What the hell are you doing here?"

Your tone was venomous, and all Bucky could see was the tiredness and rage behind your irises.

"I- Can I talk to you?" His voice is timid, like he's afraid to even ask for your time.

"About what? Don't you have someone to tend to?" You wonder out loud, and you can't help the way your heart twists at the thought of Bucky and Sophia. The way he had no problem holding her, touching her, loving her.

"That's actually what I wanted to talk to you about, Y/N."

It even hurt to think that.

"What do you want, Barnes?" You query in an indifferent tone.

"I-I waned to talk to you, alone." He responds, and his palms are sliding down his thighs to wipe off the sweat.

"Don't you have to take your date home?"

He was quiet for a moment, trying to gauge how to handle you right now. One wrong word or move, and he was out.

"Y/N, can I please just talk to you? One night we're sleeping in each others' beds, and the next we're strangers? How- how does that even make sense?" He's trying to make sense of the past few weeks and the events that led up to the demise of your relationship.

He knows, but he doesn't want to say it out loud.

"Well, I wonder who's fault that was?" You ask snarkily.

Apparently, you weren't afraid to say it.

"You were the one that did this. I get it. This was new for you, but at some point, enough was enough! I- I was basically dirt under your shoe, James! I- I couldn't fucking take it anymore! I just- you were so easy with Steve and Natasha. And then you would shake me off like I was some pest, some bug." You choked on your words, tears pricking behind your eyes. You turned away before Bucky could see them, not wanting to let him see you like this.

You've put on a tough front, because you didn't want anyone to think that you'd get so hung up over some boy, but it was hard to do so when you were giving your all into a relationship while you got the bare minimum back.

Bucky watches you from your doorway, and as you turn away, he takes this as a sign to come in and shut the door behind him.

"Y/N, please, let me talk. I-I just need to talk. To get it all out. I'm begging you, please." And beg he did. He was on the floor, quite literally on his knees. You couldn't even comprehend how not even an hour ago, he brought a new girl in.

And now he was on his knees before you. Begging.

"Get up."

Your voice cracked, but it was still strong. You weren't in the mood to have a man beg at your feet, and you felt it was quite pathetic that he was on his knees right now when he's the reason you two had ended up like this.

Whatever this was.

"O-Okay. Does that mean I can talk?" He asks tentatively, rising to his feet slowly.

"You have five minutes."

He was quiet at first, and you wondered if he even had anything to say. If he was just here to waste your time, to cause even more heartache-

"I- Can I just start off by saying, in the almost three months we were together, I never, ever, wanted to make you feel anything less than what you really are. You're kind, caring, beautiful, the smartest person I've ever met. But above all those things, you were patient with me. And that was never something I had before with someone else. No one was as patient and as attentive as you were, and I need you to know." He pauses, catching his breath from his rambling.

"Know what?" Your tone was venomous, trying to hold back the tears prickling behind your eyes.

"That I have dreamt of a girl like you for decades. You are everything-" he chokes on his words, eyes glossing over, "everything I've ever wanted, and more. And I can't tell you how sorry I am for the way I treated you. How I made you feel, and how I felt the need to hide us. I should've just been honest with everyone from the start, and it cost me everything in the end. So I'll spend the rest of my days making it up to you, in any way possible. Because you deserve it. You deserve so much better than someone who- who doesn't know how to love. How to hold your hand and not want to cry because he feels like he doesn't deserve it. You deserve the entire universe, Y/N."

Bucky finishes speaking, looking so deeply into your eyes that you can't help but let the facade crack.

Tears are leaking out of the corners of your eyes. You sniffle, trying to take a deep breath.

"Wh-what about... Sophia?" You struggle to ask through your emotions, trying to hold yourself back from flinging yourself into his arms.

"I- She's... not relevant. I met her at a bar the day we... ended things, and she said 'it was clear I was going through a heartbreak,' and that she wanted to help me get you back." Bucky laughs a bit at the whole situation now, and how fucking badly he had fucked up.

"But if you don't want to get back together, I understand. Just know, I still feel the same. But if you give me another chance, I promise you it'll be different. I promise to spend all my time making it up to you, and I don't want to hide anything about us. To anyone." He affirms, moving to hold your hands in his.

And surprisingly, you didn't pull away.

No matter how much your brain was screaming, yelling to pull away!

But you couldn't. You wanted to believe every word that came out of his mouth, and you didn't care if anyone thought you were being naive or stupid. You just wanted to hold him again, to call him James again, and to have him whisper sweet nothings in your ears.

And as all these thoughts were running through your head, you see Bucky slowly backing away, assuming your silence meant you were telling him to leave.

"I-Wait. Wait. We have a- a lot to talk about, but I'm not giving up on us yet. But I want a full explanation, top to bottom about everything. And- you have to promise me things will be different between us. We can't have things like they were before, and-"

And before you could continue your rambles, you were stopped by the feeling of his lips on yours.

You could feel his rough ones moulding against your soft, cherry-flavoured ones from your lip balm. His eyes were closed, and so were yours. Any thoughts you had were thrown out the window, and all you could focus on right now was him.

He was invading all your senses in the best way possible. In this moment, you realized he was being completely honest and truthful in what he'd said earlier. Of course, you wouldn't let him forget about all this so easily, but right now, all that mattered were his hands running all over your waist and neck.

"J-James," you breathed out, disconnecting from him.

His eyes search yours, wondering if this is where you give him the boot, and tell him to leave it at this.

But oh, was he wrong.

"Lock the door for me?"

His mouth is akin to that of a fish out of water, wondering to himself if his brain was conjuring this image in his head after weeks of not having you.

"A-Are you sure? If you don't want to we don't have to-" And now he's the one getting cut off with your lips.

It had been enough suffering for the both of you these past few weeks.

"James, I'm sure. Help a girl out?" You smile coyly, slowly walking backwards until you reach your bed and sit down. Your eyes stay on James' blue ones while he rushes to lock to door.

He's hovering over you, waiting to see if you'll make a move.

"Well, aren't you gonna fuck me?"

At those words, the man above you snaps out of his stupor, and lets out an animalistic growl, lunging at you and making both your bodies fall back onto the fluffy white duvet of your bed.

"Can I take this off of you?" James hands are pinching at the fabric of your t-shirt, and you fervently nod in response.

"Words, honey." He coaxes and receives a meek but clear 'yes' from you.

He wastes no time slipping it off your form, only breaking apart from you for air to do so.

Soon enough, your panting forms were both almost bare, left down to just underwear. James slowly moves to settle himself between your thighs, but your hand catches onto his wrist before he could move any further.

"You don't have to, James. I want you inside me already." Although you usually never complained about getting head, you were aching to feel him inside you.

"C'mon angel, I've missed how your sweet lil' pussy tastes." The words coming out of his mouth combined with the feeling of the small pecks he's placing against your inner thighs have you practically shaking.

Along with his scruff giving the sensitive skin a delicious burn, you couldn't bring yourself to say no to James.

He guides your soaked panties down your legs, placing your calves against his shoulders to hold them open.

"Mmm, you have no idea how long I've been waiting to have my mouth between these legs again, sugar. Missed ya so much." He mumbles to you, licking a broad stripe up your core.

A gasp leaves your mouth, and you scramble to find something to grab onto.

With one hand in his brunet locks, Bucky continues his ministrations. He alternates between using his tongue and sucking on your sensitive button, building up your climax.

James listens to your small gasps and whimpers, paying attention to what brought you the most pleasure.

"Oh!" You let out a whimper at the feeling of Bucky's fingers hitting your sweet spot inside you.

Before you knew it, the throbbing in your heat was spreading all through your body, causing your first earth-shattering orgasm of the night.

You're chanting James over and over again, like a prayer.

"That's it, sweetheart, give it all t'me." He coaxes you through your high, allowing for you to come down.

Your eyes are bleary and you barely sense James coming back up over you. His fingers are opening your mouth, allowing you to taste them.

"Taste yourself, honey. So sweet, missed havin' you." He leaves pecks on your forehead, nose, and cheek, before circling back to your mouth when he pulls his fingers back out.

When he pulls away again, his nose is brushing against yours. You still feel like you're floating, but you open your eyes slowly to be met with his bright cerulean ones.

"You have a condom?" James' voice is gravelly as he speaks against your lips.

"No, I'm clean and still on the pill. Wanna feel all of you." You whisper while your fingers roam through his locks.

"A-Are you sure?" He asks, trying to ignore the involuntary twitch of his cock at your words.

"I'm sure, James. I've never been more sure of doing anything with anyone." You say, letting your hand move down to his boxers.

Your hand dips into the waistband, grasping him with your palm.

"Wanna feel all of this." You barely speak, but he understands every word you say.

Before you know it, his underwear is off and thrown somewhere across the room.

James sits back, running his cock through your juices for lubrication, eliciting a sigh from the both of you.

"Fuck, I missed you so much, doll." He grits out while he pushes into you slowly. "Can't believe I was so stupid and almost lost ya for good."

"I-I'm right here, baby. You won't ever lose me." You reassure him, letting him fill you to the brim.

"God, can't get enough of this tight pussy, baby." James is thrusting at an even pace now, and you can feel every inch of him inside you.

You release moans of ecstacy and pleasure in his ear as he stays above you, and while you're only half-conscious of what you're doing, you grab his metal arm and bring it to your throat.

His eyes shoot open but his pace never falters, looking at you for silent reassurance.

The white-hot feeling in your core builds at the feeling, not wanting it to stop.

"You sure?"

"Yes, please." All he needed was your whimper to moan at the sight of his hand around your throat.

"H-Holy shit. I- Come with me baby, c'mon." His voice is strained, like it's paining him to speak.

"I'm- I'm coming James. Come with me, baby." You gasp out, feeling the stirring in your belly reach its' peak.

Soon enough, you're both coming undone, breathing into each others' mouths while working through your highs together.

You feel him spurting inside you, painting your walls white. His rocking slowly comes to a stop, allowing him to open his eyes and focus on you. Your thumbs are brushing over his cheekbones, soaking in him just being here, with you.

"C'mon, let me get you cleaned up, angel." James slowly pulls out of you, being careful to not hurt you.

You see the light flicker on in your bathroom and hear the sink running. He returns with a rag and brushes it gently between your legs, feeling you shiver at how sensitive you are.

"Sorry, honey." James' whisper comes from below, and you smile down with soft eyes.

You were completely besotted for this man.

Once the rag is thrown into your laundry hamper, Bucky retrieves his boxers and pulls them on.

For a moment, you feel a flash through your body, your heart seizing at the thought of him leaving now.

"A-Are you leaving?" You barely recognize your own voice, feeling pathetic for feeling so vulnerable.

Bucky just looks at you. He's dumbfounded at you right now. How could you think that after everything, especially after what had just happened, that he would leave you. How he could ever let you go again.

And again, the question is just another painful reminder of how much he's hurt you.

"No, sweetheart. Just wanted to grab a shirt for you to sleep in." He gives you a soft smile, quenching the ache of your heart.

Once he sits you up and slips the large shirt over your frame, he slips back into his spot next to you under the duvet. Your legs immediately tangle with his, head on his shoulder and arm thrown across his torso.

"Never gonna let you go again, honey." He tells you, placing a kiss to the crown of your head.

"Love you, James." You mumble in a half-asleep response into his chest, the words reverberating into his skin.

Bucky hopes you don't feel his heart racing, but replies with the same words that you hear before slipping into a deep slumber. And the last thing you hear before you slip under are the sweetest words to ever be spoken.

"I love you more, Y/N."

[concussed-to-pieces]

Late July

Fandom: Kingsman: The Golden Circle

Pairing: Agent Whiskey [Jack Daniels]/Reader

Rating: Holy shit explicit.

Summary: Upon hearing about you from Tequila, Jack Daniels seeks you out with a full set of emotional baggage to work through. You happily oblige, helping him craft a scene that just might grant him some peace of mind. Enjoy!

Tag List: @huliabitch @wrestlingfae @cookiethewriter @culturalrebel @jackierey09 @crookedmoonsaultpunk @duker42 @agirllovespasta @nelba @pedrosbigdorkenergy @lestrange2703 @youmeanmybrain @luvley-shadow @theocatkov @miscellaneousjunkk @reluctantlyresponsibleadult @buttons-beads-lace @gooddaykate @lackofhonor

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains consensual non-consent (surrender play), light domination, roleplay, unprotected sex, frank discussion of safe words, usage of safe words, dirty talk and light bondage. Remember that fanfictions are not research and that you should never engage in any activity if you do not trust your partner. Stay safe!]

There was just something about you that put people at ease, and Ginger Ale noticed during the interview process. "You have a gift!" She had praised you, her smile unexpected and bright. "I can see why Tequila recommended you for this position."

Granted, being the 'head of first impressions' at a distillery that was actually a front for a secret intelligence agency had its ups and downs, but you enjoyed the work and (if you were honest) the exciting interactions with the Statesman agents. 

Tequila, of course, would practically drape himself across your desk as he regaled you with (hopefully) exaggerated tales of his heroics. The two of you were sexually involved but preferred to keep each other at arm's length out of the bedroom, neither party particularly keen on surrendering your freedom and committing to anything serious at this point of your lives. You admired his dedication to Statesman, and he in turn respected your desire to have a successful career. He also was blatantly mooning over a certain analyst.

Ginger Ale was quieter and sharper than Tequila, her dry humor a joy to witness. She was the one who had done your interview, and she had given you the full behind the scenes tour once your background check went through. She was beautiful, charismatic and smart as a whip. You hoped to one day be as self-assured as she was.

Champ tended to keep to himself for the most part, though you had encountered him several times in the past when he dozed off in a certain chair at the end of a sunlit hallway. The elderly man was like an old tomcat, you decided, able to prowl but more than willing to take it easy.

Whiskey was often away managing the affairs of their New York headquarters and as such, was the one that you interacted with the least. He would come breezing in at all hours, a slow smile and a wink directed your way before he would saunter past. The rare occasions that he engaged you in conversation were nerve-wracking, as you were a little starstruck due to the glowing accounts both Champ and Tequila had given of his prowess in the past.

Ginger Ale was a bit more down to earth, thankfully. "He's just a man who's lost a lot, and his reasons for wanting to change things for the better may not be entirely altruistic." She had informed you concisely when you queried about the origin of one Jack Daniels. You had picked up on the veiled sadness in his dark eyes, the age that seemed to weigh him down that wasn't entirely related to years.

So when the aforementioned Statesman agent had drunkenly expressed a certain desire to you at a company party, you couldn't hide a little spike of curiosity. Mainly because the two of you interacted so rarely. Hell, you wouldn't even call yourselves friends. Tequila must have told him about your side activities.

"Ever since I lost her, I can't fuckin' bring myself to raw anyone else." The confession had come out of left field, but you had done your best to play it off like it was normal. Lord knew you had done enough paperwork in your career at Statesman to understand that agents would just kind of…say things thoughtlessly if they believed they were in a safe environment. A hazard of the job.

"What do you mean, Mr. Daniels?" 

"Call me Jack. Jesus, I ain't that old." He had hiccupped sharply, grimacing. "I just mean I...it's like a mental block. I wanna', I'm excited about it, and everything's fine until I try to come and boom. Python shrivels up like a damn salted slug and I'm left holdin' the bag tryin' to explain myself." He stared into his glass, looking pensive. "Real mood killer."

"Any idea why this might be?" You had prompted, leaning against the bar and idly scanning the throngs of people around you. It wasn't every day that so many of the company's rank and file rubbed elbows with the higher-ups, but you had to assume these economic mixers were what had kept the company (and intelligence agency) on such an even keel. It was a grounding experience, a way to remind the suits of their humble beginnings.

He scoffed out a breath. "Oh I know exactly why. When I lost her, I...we had only learned a little while before that she was havin' a baby. We'd been havin' a rocky time and we were actually thinkin' of breakin' up, but that news…" Jack had tilted his head to glance your way, his brown eyes distant. "If I hadn't gotten her pregnant, she wouldn't have been out shoppin' that day, y'know?" A sad smile had quirked his mouth beneath his mustache. "My fault."

At the time, you had made a noise of sympathy and gone to lay a hand on his arm before you could think better of it. He, instead of shrugging off your touch, actually ended up twining his fingers through your own and giving your hand a light squeeze.

Agent Whiskey's past was a shadowy affair in the Statesman organization. Though to be fair, no one really asked anything about anyone. Ginger Ale reasoned that the less people knew, the safer they and Statesman were in the event of a security breach. 

Anything you learned from any of the agents, you tended to keep close to your heart. It was your nature to gather useful information and foster trust for a rainy day. That personality facet had served you well as you had climbed the ranks from intern to head of first impressions, and knowing that you were someone that could be counted on to hold your cards close put many people at ease.

Including one Agent Whiskey.

"Tequila said you were good at helpin'. I'd be much obliged if you'd consider takin' a crack at my sexual baggage."

...

"Alright so for your words, you've decided on 'sixth' as your 'yes I'm into this', followed by second for 'slow down but don't break character', first for 'slow down and do break character' and finally neutral for 'full stop'." You tapped the customary notepad on your lap, glancing over at the man across the table. The two of you were currently sitting in the kitchen of the vacation cabin that your parents had willed to you, the modest dwelling often your staging ground for affairs like this. The warm wooden decor tended to make your partners feel more at ease and less vulnerable. Perceived safety was, after all, incredibly important when crafting scenarios.

Jack nodded. "Gears are easy for me to remember. Simple." 

"Got it. And no kissing on the mouth. Can I kiss you in other places, or would you prefer I didn't at all?"

"Kissin's fine." Jack allowed. "Whatever you wanna' do is fine, just not on my mouth." You jotted that down. "Hey, I uh...I just wanted you to know that I really appreciate you agreein' to help. I dunno' if this will work, but…" Whiskey rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "Thanks. When Tequila mentioned your...extracurriculars, I figured he was jus' bein' outta' pocket again."

You grinned at that, giggling a little. "Does he get weird a lot?"

"I mean, he's uh...well, he's got his moments." Jack replied with a smile of his own.

"So," you hummed once you had checked your notes again, "after looking over all the information we've compiled, and the ideas you gave me an outline of, I'm thinking that you may want more of a 'surrender-play' kind of experience." 

Jack raised an eyebrow. "Dare I ask how that's different from what I already suggested?" 

"Look, you and I both know that I couldn't keep you from moving if you wanted to. Now, if we had a real working dynamic going on and I believed that you would listen and trust me implicitly so that you don't end up hurting yourself or me, then we might have something. But as we are right now, that's not gonna' happen." Whiskey inclined his head with a rueful chuckle, acknowledging the truth of your words. "So I propose that it's more of a scenario where all the agency is removed."

The agent leaned forward, folding his hands on the table. "Explain."

"You need a scenario where you aren't in control and there's not even a chance of you being in control, taking any responsibility or guilt from the equation." You elaborated. "Basically, you would surrender your control so that you can indulge guilt-free. A lot of people do this coupled with a roleplay aspect in order to test new things that may be out of character for them."

"You coulda' jus' said you wanted to tie me up, sugar." Jack drawled. "I'll show you some good knots."

"You don't have any issues with being secured to...I guess a chair, probably? We'll keep you upright. If we sprawl you out on a bed that might be a little too vulnerable." You reasoned, waiting for his nod before you wrote it down. "I know it sounds contradictory, but I want you to be comfortable in what we do. Should I leave your clothes on?"

"If you can stand to, I'd appreciate it." The man answered with a cheeky wink. "Bein' naked and restrained is a little too close to the job description." He sighed after a moment, tipping the chair backwards as he laced his fingers behind his head. "Now I warn you, if I'm supposed to be an unwillin' party, I may display a little less Southern hospitality and a little more Southern history with my language, if you catch my drift."

You pursed your lips, squinting at him. "...is that your way of saying you might use a naughty word or two?"

You received a lazy finger-gun in reply, "bingo, cherry pie. You got any names you ain't a fan of bein' called?"

"Oh! I mean, I've heard just about everything in the book." You straightened up as a thought occurred to you, and then pointed back at him sternly. "No slurs."

"Ma'am," Jack sounded aghast, "I am not that breed of Southern gentleman. My lingo can verge on the spicy, but I sure as hell wouldn't stoop to that level." 

You narrowed your eyes to drive your point home. "I really hope not." The agent inclined his head once more, putting a hand over his heart in a display of sincerity.

The front legs of the chair met the floor with a soft clatter, once again putting him on stable footing. "Now, I been wrackin' my brain tryin' to drum up a good premise like you asked, but I ain't exactly big in the screenwritin' department. I figure it could be kinda' like I'd been kidnapped? Drawin' a blank on why my kidnapper would be rawdoggin' me, maybe you can come up with somethin'?" He queried hopefully. 

You furrowed your brow in thought, going silent as you carefully considered the hodgepodge of contributing factors. "Oh, I think I can manage."

...

This deck had been rigged from the start. In theory, you knew that he knew that. Still, he was certainly acting like it stung his pride a bit that he'd fallen into your 'trap' so cleanly. 

Everything was going according to plan. 

Whiskey struggled against the binds that secured him to the kitchen chair. His whip was safely confiscated. Lasso out of reach. Hat was still on his head. He had specifications, after all. 

You left him to wriggle for almost half an hour while you got yourself ready. The man was a secret agent, after all. If he hadn't been restrained for much longer than that at any given point you would be very surprised. 

You finally opened the bathroom door, sauntering out into the cabin's small kitchenette. "Miss me, love?" You crooned, committing to your role as villainous vamp stereotype number six. You had worn a plain set of underwear and an oversized white t-shirt, soft and see-through from the amount of times it had been washed. You got the feeling that if you went more elaborate, you might scare Whiskey off or make him too uncomfortable to really get into it. This scene was all about trust, and he hardly knew you. But he had sought you out for this. All you had to do was follow through.

"Was beginnin' to worry that you forgot about me, ma'am." The agent drawled back, his smile tightly sardonic and his low voice curling hot in your belly. "You fixin' to untie me yet?"

You clicked your tongue, the noise disappointed. "Whiskey, sweetheart, where's the fun in that? If I untie you, you'll just kill me."

"Can't blame a man for tryin'." Jack was absolutely in his element right now. He looked furious. 

You ambled around behind him, slinging your arms around his neck and resting your weight on him briefly. "Remember," you murmured in his ear. "If you need me to slow down, or need to stop entirely, you say…?"

"Second, first and neutral." The agent replied readily. You patted his cheek.

"Good boy." You praised. 

"Ain't my first rodeo." Whiskey's tongue darted out nervously to wet his lips and you wanted to reassure him, but you knew you had a job to do.

"Now, can I get you a light refreshment? Something to drink? Maybe some chips?" You offered, moving to the small refrigerator that you had stocked a little earlier in the day. Planning was imperative for engagements like this. "I have water, sweet tea, Coke…"

"Dammit woman, stop beatin' around the bush! Why the hell do you have me hogtied to this damn chair?!" Jack erupted. 

"So rude." You chided him, removing a water for yourself and then leaning casually against the counter. "You really want to know, Mr. Whiskey?"

"Obviously." He scowled.

"Well be a patient boy and maybe I'll tell you." You hummed, not making eye contact as you unscrewed the cap on the water bottle. "It was more than enough trouble for me to get you here in the first place, big shot. Don't rush me."

"Listen, I'll be the first to tell you that I probably ain't who you're lookin' for." He said bluntly. "I'm just a simple liquor tycoon, nothin' more."

"Mr. Whiskey, if you continue to insult my intelligence maybe I will decide I've got the wrong man. And then I'll just get rid of you." You swirled the water in the bottle, fixing him with a thoughtful look. 

"You're talkin' a mighty big game, woman." Jack grumbled. 

You sloshed some of the water on your thin white shirt as if by accident, and began daubing at the gauzy fabric aimlessly. "Whiskey-"

"It's Jack." He spat.

"Oh, we're on a first name basis? How exciting!" You teased him, laughing when he muttered angrily under his breath. He was clearly enjoying the role of 'belligerent definitely-not-a-spy'. "Alright then, Jack. I won't beat around the bush, as you so tactfully put it."

"Hallelujah, some goddamn cooperation." He replied in a sulky tone.

"So, Jack, I need you to come inside me. Strictly so I can bypass Statesman's biomechanical security systems. It's nothing personal, I just assumed you would be the easiest target, you know?" You remarked with a shrug. "The flirty cowboy with the filthy mouth." He stared at you and you raised an eyebrow, half-convinced that his reaction was legitimate. "What? You do have a reputation."

"I hate to break it to ya', but you got the wrong beverage. You're lookin' for Tequila, ma'am." Jack retorted, his voice a little raspy. "You want...what?"

"I need you to come inside me so I can use the your genetic signature to bypass the security." Granted, you were pretty certain that Statesman used exclusively fingerprints, retina scans and time locks, but Whiskey had told you to weave a good story for the setup, not necessarily an accurate one.

Jack swallowed hard. "You've got bats in your fuckin' belfry, woman. You expect me to-"

"Oh no, that's the beauty of this arrangement." You interrupted him, still smiling. "I don't expect you to do anything aside from sit there and stay still while I ride you." 

"Jesus fuck woman, you--shit, isn't there some other way to do this? I ain't keen on the prospect, but if there's literally any other way…" 

"Sorry. This is the only solution that my superiors could get behind." You sighed, feigning regret. "And we might be here a while, from what I've heard." Jack's eyes darted to yours and he flushed, working his jaw. "Don't look so glum! I'm one of the best in my field. I'm sure I'll be able to compensate for your...lack of investment."

"You touch me and I swear to God-"

"Ah ah, naughty boys get gagged." You threatened gently, walking your fingers up the side of his face to stroke them back down his jawline. Jack glared at you, his dark gaze fairly luminous with fury and maybe just a touch of poorly-veiled interest. "Be a good boy and I'll let you talk as much as you want. Maybe I'll even let you play with my tits, hmm?" You asked, cupping your breasts through your still-damp shirt. "Would you like that, love?"

"I…" Jack trailed off, then snapped his eyes back up from your chest. "No!"

You tapped his nose, winking. "Oh I think you would. Don't be so stubborn, Jack." You cocked your head to the side. "No one from Statesman even knows you're gone. No one is coming to rescue you." You informed him, all the playfulness evaporated from your voice. "You're mine now, Jack. My own personal key-card."

"You won't get away with this." Jack snarled.

"I think I already have." You knelt between his legs, running your hands over the jeans that covered his thighs. He squirmed, trying to dislodge you, but you just moved with him. You dug your nails into his thighs. "You keep wiggling and I'm going to have to tighten the ropes, Jack. Is that what you want?"

"Oh you filthy fuckin' woman, you absolute bitch, let me go!" 

"Hmm," you tapped your chin as he kept jerking and straining against the knots. "No." 

Jack froze when your fingers unbuttoned the button at the top of his fly. "Now wait, wait just a damn minute, y-you can't--" he tried to plead.

"Oh I can. And I will." You looked up at him. "As long as we're in the right gear?"

"Sixth, sixth." He affirmed, flashing you a quick smile. You nodded and seamlessly resumed your play.

The zipper of his fly opened devastatingly slow, the agent exhaling raggedly when you pulled up his shirt and palmed his groin gently through the fabric of his boxer briefs. His cock was already half-hard, and you pointed that out with a mean little smirk on your face. "Oh no, looks like someone's interested." You crooned, rubbing your index finger over the head of his still-clothed dick.

"Fuck off, you...y-you-" he swore, rolling his shoulders as if he was testing his bonds. "You little bitch."

"Temper temper." You chided, ducking your head down to mouth over the fabric of his boxers. Jack gasped out another swear over your head, his hips twitching up to meet you before he slammed them back down. "Methinks someone doth protest too much." You snorted, splaying your fingers on the newly-revealed skin of his stomach. "We could make this so much simpler if you would just give in, Jack." You didn't miss the way his skin jumped at your touch, and you smiled against his boxers.

"You'll--you'll have to do better than that." Whiskey breathed. "You think just any ol' woman can get me up?"

You stood, leaning in close and pressing your mouth to his ear. His whole body flinched when you wrapped your fingers around his cock and gave him a nice, slow stroke. "Oh, poor thing. You must believe you're really special, hmm? God's gift to mankind every time you take someone to bed." You mocked, your teeth and tongue laving over his earlobe. "We're all so lucky to have you, Jack."

"Hhn-" Jack's shoulders went stiff, the man obviously biting his tongue. 

"You don't have a choice, sweetheart. I'm going to get you hard. Then, I'm going to use your cock. And all you have to do, my lovely, handsome cowboy, is come inside me." You informed him, drawing a finger beneath his chin. "More than once, preferably."

"I'm not usually a man to voice my own shortcomin's, but I must warn you that this will be a futile-" Whiskey's words hitched in his throat when you stroked him again. "Fuck, no, don't touch me like that, you--"

"Stop playing hard to get, Jack." You murmured, slinking your free hand up the back of his neck to massage his scalp right beneath the band of his hat. "Give up."

"Never." He hissed even as his head lolled forward, granting you more access to rub his neck. 

"Pity." You settled back down between his legs and wrapped your lips around his cock. 

"No, no, dammit-" Whiskey growled, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. "Don't you fuckin'...no, no, don't use your tongue the-ah f-uck--" His protest died in a pitiful groan when his cock met the back of your throat. "Oh, you--fuckin'--you've got to be shittin' me woman, the whole-?" He grunted out haphazardly as you relaxed your throat and took him all the way down to the base. "You think y-you can take advantage of me jus' cuz' it's been a while since I got laid? Fuck you."

You hummed around his cock, wanting to giggle when he twitched and swore loudly. Your fingers dove past the hem of your underwear, and you moaned against him as you ran your index in slow, steady circles around your clit. 

"I ain't fuckin' you, and I sure as shit am not gonna' come in your pussy." Jack snarled. 

"Oh yes you are." You sang, rising to your feet and slipping your panties off. The white t-shirt came next, baring your breasts to the air-conditioned environment. 

Jack seemed to forget that he was supposed to be vehemently against this yet again as he just...watched while you teased your nipples. You tugged at the taut peaks, rolling them between your fingers and making a show out of the whole bit. 

"I can't wait to have you inside me, filling me up, just pumping me full of your come." You said with a smile, sauntering over until you would be in reach if his hands were free. Jack's tongue made a nervous reappearance and you tugged his chin upwards so you could see his eyes. "Are we still in gear? Or do we need to shift?" You asked. He seemed slightly dazed.

"Oh! Uh, sorry, s-sixth." He stammered. "Sixth, holy shit."

"Mm. Don't disappoint me and maybe I'll let you live." You remarked smoothly, swinging one leg over his lap and straddling him. Jack's shoulders were rigid again and you kneaded at them surreptitiously, trying your best to keep him in the scene and out of his own head.

You were well on your way to soaking wet with arousal. There was nothing better than when you had a partner that trusted you, regardless of whether you had truly earned that trust. Just the fact that they had blind faith in you to execute the endeavor that they needed...it was heady and sweet and you loved every second. 

You rutted your pussy against the underside of Jack's cock, the man snapping his teeth at the sensation. "Too good?" You taunted, laughing when he swore again.

"I can't believe that you think I'm fuckin' enjoyin' th--look, any dick perks up at heavy pet-" 

Cutting Whiskey off mid-sentence was quickly becoming a favorite pastime, you realized as you angled your hips and let the head of his cock push past your pussy lips. "In, just a little, give you a taste, sweetheart…" you sighed, rocking your hips forward and back but not allowing him to sink any deeper into you. "There, that's not so bad, is it?" You cajoled as he shuddered beneath you. "Just keep being good, my sweet cowboy, and this will all be over so much sooner." 

"No, no-" He struggled to move, to do anything, but you had made certain to tie him exactly as he had specified. "Dammit, when I get free of here, I'll--"

"Shh, you think too much." You tapped your index finger to his lips, smoothing it over the bristle of his mustache. "Focus on your job right now, and everything will be fine." 

Jack turned his face away, inadvertently presenting the thick column of his neck to you. And you, channeling your inner villain, leaped at the opportunity to lick and bite at the bared skin. He made a strange noise, a combination of a moan and a whine that had you raising an eyebrow. 

"Is someone a little sensitive there?" 

"No, I am not." He answered through gritted teeth. "I hate that you're touchin' me, that's all!"

"Hmm, it doesn't sound like you hate it." You mused, suckling gently at the spot where his jaw met his throat. You were very careful not to leave marks, as that had been another specification. Whiskey struggled underneath you again, only succeeding in pumping his cock up into you slightly.

"Don't, don't--" His voice actually cracked and you smiled, nuzzling your nose beneath his jawline and letting his dick settle deeper.

"Oh no, it seems like you do want to fuck me after all." You shrugged nonchalantly, leaning back and stroking over the base of his cock with two fingers. "Warming up to the idea of being my little fuck toy, Jack?" You teased, noting the way his knuckles whitened from his grip on the rope and his Adam's apple bobbed with the force of his convulsive swallow at your words. "I could just keep you here like this forever, you know. All tied up, helpless for me…" You squeezed the base of his cock and he gasped, trying to stifle the noise. "Soon, I'd have you trained so that you couldn't come from any other pussy aside from mine. Wouldn't that be fun?" 

Without waiting for an answer, you let the last few inches of his dick enter you. You leaned back on his thighs, feeling the muscles coil and strain beneath your touch as you reached down and grazed your clit. You could feel the heat of his gaze on you, those brown eyes fixated on the motions of your fingers even as his cock split you open. You were grateful that he was secured, you weren't sure if you would have been able to take him otherwise. His cock curved thickly against your back wall, the engorged head throbbing back and forth over the area that made your whole body shudder in delight. 

Whiskey's jaw was taut, his shoulders set in a rigid line that made you ache to get him to come undone in you.

"You're so quiet." You pouted, raising your hand and brushing your wet index finger over his slack lower lip. "Aren't you having a good time?"

His chest abruptly expanded, like he had forgotten to breathe for a moment or two. "Fuck you." Whiskey seethed, making you chuckle softly. "I ain't nobody's goddamn fuck toy."

"Sweetheart," you chided as you sat up. "That's not a very nice thing to say to the person warming your cock right now." You deliberately clenched down on him and Jack swore under his breath, shaking his head. "I can make you feel so good, Whiskey, if you just give me what I want." You insisted, cupping his face and pulling halfway off of his cock. 

"N-N...No." He replied weakly.

You sighed, rolling your eyes and shaking out your shoulders. "Well, I tried." Your hands landed on his shoulders and you gripped down to steady yourself, your hips meeting his own with a wet slap! of skin. Jack's chest heaved, his eyes closed and head tilted back as you began to ride him roughly. "All I wanted was for you to come in me. I don't feel like that's asking for much!" You complained petulantly, rolling your hips against his when he was hilted in you with an agonizingly slow grind of your body.

Jack bit out a low "fuck," those tense shoulders trembling under your touch. You tucked your face into his neck to tease the sensitive area even more, your tongue tracing random patterns that made him squirm and writhe underneath you. "I don't--can't, can't, don't make me--" he tried to protest, his words fractured and pitiful. 

"Yes you can, and you're going to." You snapped, taking a handful of hair at the nape of his neck so you could urge his head back further, leaving his throat at your mercy. "You're coming in me, Jack! Give up!"

...

"First!" He choked out, and you immediately slowed to a crawl. Your touch on him gentled significantly, no longer demanding but cradling, caressing. 

"Easy, easy." You soothed, the unrelenting assault of your perfect hips gone to a slow and careful rhythm, back and forth like a porch swing in the summer heat. Your eyes searched his own, concern shining through.

Jack was speechless, his blind panic melting away at the sound of your regular voice. What the hell just happened? He licked his lips, only now realizing how dry they had gotten. "Sorry, I uh-"

"No apologies." You murmured. "You have nothing to be sorry for. Would you like to stop now?"

Whiskey took a long moment, running a mental check on his body. Nothing was sore, nothing seemed out of line. Everything was raring to go. 

Everything aside from his brain, that is. The damn thing wouldn't stop conjuring up scenes of you pregnant and everything going to absolute fucking shit. It didn't matter that he had zero attachment to you, it didn't matter that you were on birth control. This was how it always was. 

Every damn time things got serious with a new interest, "oh, let's start a family," Whiskey just wanted to curl up into a ball. Without fail, like clockwork, he would shut down. 

And then the accusations would start, the distrust, "How come you can do it with protection but not without?" and it was disheartening, crushing to go through again and again. Explaining didn't seem to do a lick of good, it was always just that he was stringing people along, that he was a damn selfish prick, that he didn't care about what his partner wanted.

That couldn't be further from the truth, of course, but maybe that was his own fault for not dropping the bomb before getting attached to someone. He just couldn't ever seem to justify asking a person on their second or third date, "hey so what's your thoughts on having kids?" It felt manipulative, cheap, and if he was being honest, he knew for a fact that sometimes just the idea of having children was enough to scare a potential interest off. 

You were the first person to try and help Jack really wrap his head around this whole issue. And yeah, that was the whole point in sussing you out, but…

Tequila didn't tell him that you actually gave a shit, or at least you were damn good at acting like you did. Whiskey bit his lip. "I'm okay." He said finally, trying for a smile.

"Anything chafing? Do you need some water?"

"I…" Jack trailed off. "Huh, I admit I am a bit parched. But that means you'd have to get up." He realized unhappily.

"Were you enjoying yourself?" You asked, sounding curious. 

Whiskey got the hysterical idea in his head of you pulling out some sort of satisfaction survey at the end of your engagement, the notion making him smirk slightly. "God, yeah. I...yeah." He flushed a little bit. "Dunno' if I ever got this far after…after all my mental hangups and stuff. The fact that I don't have a say in the matter seems to be helpin', though."

"Okay, don't go anywhere. I'll get you some water." You patted his thigh, cautiously settling your feet on the floor and then going to stand with a quivery little gasp that absolutely stroked his ego.

Jack couldn't help his own groan at the loss of your heat, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. "Damn it woman, has anyone ever told you that your pussy is fuckin' perfect?" He muttered, his usual honeyed words suddenly clumsy in his mouth. "I mean, hell."

You laughed, bending over to dig in the small fridge for another water. Whiskey felt his entire body throb at the sight of you presenting yourself to him like that, and he sucked in a breath at your obvious teasing. Even in the soft light of the kitchen, he could see the glisten of the wetness between your legs. Hell yes, he found himself thinking stupidly as you turned back around. 

"I'm just glad that you're doing alright. That's the most important part to me, after all." You assured him, unscrewing the cap on the water and tipping it to his lips.

Jack gulped greedily, feeling a few droplets escape his mouth and run down his neck to blot his collar. "I am. One hundred percent." He said firmly after he had slaked his thirst. "Let's keep goin'."

"If you're sure, absolutely." You acquiesced, smiling again. Placing the water bottle on the kitchen table, you then swung your leg over his thighs like you were vaulting back into the saddle. Jack held his breath, waiting for you to welcome his cock back into your body. And God he was so hard, he couldn't remember ever being this hard, what the hell--

But strangely, you didn't immediately resume from where you had left off. Instead, you put your arms around his neck and actually rested your forehead against his own, bumping his hat upwards. 

Jack swallowed roughly, confused. 

"Let me take this from you." You whispered. Whiskey felt pinned by your stare, he felt as if you could see every terrible thing he had ever done, every transgression laid bare under the weight of your gaze. "Let go of it. I have you. I won't let anything happen to you." 

The words washed over him, soft and sweet. Your fingers slipped up into the hair at the nape of his neck to toy with the mussed ends that lurked there. The whole exchange was oddly intimate and Jack found himself at a loss yet again, simply grating out, "sixth," when he couldn't come up with anything else to say.

You reached down and stroked his cock, rubbing the head of it against your clit. And Jesus he could feel you, the difference in heat, the slick--

"Are you gonna' take it from me, sweet girl?" He hissed through his teeth like it wounded him to ask, trying desperately to cling to the illusion that he wasn't willing. "Take everythin' I've got?"

The blur between reality and this playdate was getting messier by the second. He wanted to fuck you, wanted to bury himself in you, spend every last drop inside the hot embrace of your quivering cunt. He wanted that. Jesus Christ, this wasn't part of the bargain.

This was a pantomime, specially designed pornography that existed only to coax a very specific reaction from his confused body. So why did he wish he had met you years ago? Why was he suddenly hoping and praying that the sounds you were making were legitimate instead of exclusively for his benefit, hoping that you were also enjoying this?

You angled your hips and sank back down on his lap, your hands going to your breasts where you proceeded to fondle and tease them until your nipples looked like they ached.

Whiskey fucking ached himself to wrap his lips around one pert little peak, swirl his tongue across the tip and make you come undone, rut his dick up into you until you cried out his name and soaked him--

Whoa cowboy, he chastised himself, a little startled by how sharp the longing was. You just kept fucking yourself on his cock, that hot, wet little pussy molded perfectly to every ridge of his member and he had never been this hard, this ready in his life. Despite the air conditioning in the cabin, your skin shone with sweat from all the work you were putting in and Whiskey couldn't recall a time where he had been more appreciative of someone else accomplishing a task within his field of vision.

Your hand slipped down, down, and Jack found himself following the trajectory until it delved between your legs and you started playing with yourself. "Jack," you crooned his name and it was like a prayer, reverent and soft, tender enough to coil itself around his lungs and choke him to death without a whisper of protest. You parted your legs even wider in his lap, exposing yourself to him so he could watch his cock slide in and out of you, so he could see himself fucking you open.

"Are you gonna' come for me, sweet girl?" He gasped, craning his neck and managing to tilt his head so he could mutter into your ear, "you just gonna' wrench one out for me, beautiful?"

"Mm, no, I'm not coming until after you come." You whimpered, still moving your hand. "But I'm so close, Jack. I want to come."

Your plaintive whine had him ablaze. God, he had never wanted to please someone so damn badly in his life. "I know you do, sweet girl." He murmured huskily, exhaling hot over the shell of your ear and loving the way you quivered in his lap. "You're so good, lettin' me blow my load before you get off--gonna' pump me dry when you come, aren't you? Just keep me inside you until that little pussy is all fucked out," he growled, barely aware of the words that tumbled from his mouth. 

All he knew is that you were all a-tremble at his voice, your body as hot as late July against his chest, your eyes heavy with adoration that he did not deserve and God, he couldn't get used to that look even if it was fake. What if you stayed? he wondered absently. What if you stayed?

Oh fuck, he was about to come. Panic jabbed like the blade of a knife between his shoulder blades and Whiskey went silent, his teeth bearing down on his lower lip and his eyes slamming shut as he focused harder than he ever had in his life.

The smell of you, the sounds, the heat, the little spasms of your cunt around his cock…

Yes. Yes, God yes, he could do this-- 

"Come in me, sweetheart." Begging him, pleading, demanding, "Jack-!" You cried his name.

Whiskey groaned hoarsely, so low it was almost painful, and let go. He bucked his hips up against you as best as he could, minute little thrusts while he came harder than he had in years. "Oh," he snarled, gritting his teeth, "fuckin' Christ woman, I think you've ruined me, Jesus fuck."

Your hands threaded through the hair at the nape of his neck again and you held him, not tightly, but just enough to keep him steady, anchored. "There," you said abruptly, the snide, put-upon tone of your role contrasting wildly with the gentleness of your touch, "was that so difficult?"

Jack burst out laughing, not overly concerned with how strange of a reaction that was. Hell, was he relieved? "Jesus fuckin' Christ, you're great." He remarked breathlessly. "I don't even know what just happened."

"Oh?" You replied, raising an eyebrow. "The mess between my legs seems to allude to you possibly having an orgasm. Jury's still out though."

He grimaced apologetically, glancing down. "Sorry darlin'. It's been a while, y'know?" You rose up off of him again and he grunted as his cock slipped free from your body. Whiskey felt half-drunk, relief and release combining into a potent cocktail that left him boneless in the chair. 

You quickly put your shirt back on and then crouched at his feet, beginning the arduous process of untying him. Jack just sat there, watching you drowsily. He couldn't do much else, really. "Any numbness or chafing?" You asked quietly, stirring him momentarily from his daze.

"Nah, nothin' yet." He replied, straightening his freed left leg and rotating his ankle in his boot. "A little stiff, but I've survived worse than that." 

"And how do you feel?" You questioned, "physically and emotionally."

Jack gnawed at his lower lip, trying to force his sluggish brain past the haze of serotonin in order to give you a satisfactory answer. "...good." He said finally, scrambling to elaborate, "or uh, better, I guess. More okay than I've been in a fuckin' while." It wasn't a lie, he was surprised to discover. He hadn't actually put much stock into this endeavor, figuring it would be a fun little diversion that would end just like every other time. Of course, it didn't hurt that you were easy on the eyes, prettier than a peach if he was being honest with himself.

Your smile was bright and Jack's stomach knotted confusingly. "I'm glad."

His right leg was released and he shifted his weight in the seat, groaning happily when his hip popped. "Hey, wait." The agent belatedly realized, "you didn't-?"

"We were here for you." You reminded him. "Not me."

"Whoa now, that don't seem fair at all!" Whiskey protested, taken aback by your nonchalance. "You just put in all the work!"

Your laugh tripped down his spine like an aftershock. "Don't get bent out of shape! It's standard policy, Mr. Whiskey. Once the desired result of the scene has been acquired, the scene ends and I start with aftercare."

"B-But--you didn't get to get off though!" 

"Me 'getting off' wasn't specified in our planning." 

"I needed to specify that shit?! I figured you'd just kinda'..." His right arm was free now and Jack seized the opportunity to make a certain gesture, raising his eyebrows. "I mean, I was at your mercy!" He continued, bewildered. "You totally coulda' just kept goin'-"

"Yes, and that's exactly why when the desired result has been achieved, the scene ends." You interjected firmly. "Because you trusted me enough to let me take control, and I'm not about to break that trust by doing something selfish on a whim."

Jack exhaled hard, scooting his hat a little further back on his head so he could study you. You didn't look disappointed, or annoyed with him. He wondered how many times you had fielded ignorant questions like his own and he cringed at himself. "I'm...shit, I'm sorry. I don't have any right to be all shitty about it." He apologized as you moved out of his field of view to untie the rope securing him to the back of the chair. "I just feel like you worked so hard an' got nothin' out of your end of the bargain."

"It's sweet of you to be concerned about that, but don't take it personally, okay?" You assured him, "I do this because I enjoy it. The whole experience, not just the finale." The ropes around his chest sagged and Jack slid forward a bit in the seat, relaxing. 

"Can I get that water again? Christ, I need a cigarette and a tumbler of the strong stuff after all that." He joked, clumsily tucking his cock back into his boxers. You pressed the bottle to his hands and he nearly dropped it, chuckling self-consciously. "Whups, sorry. I had my fists all bunched up so my fingers are stiff." Jack proceeded to down the rest of the bottle, wiping his mouth and mustache with the back of his hand after the fact. "So...what exactly is it you do for Tequila?" He queried nosily.

You laughed at him and God, God he loved the sound of your laugh. "That, Mr. Whiskey, is on a need-to-know basis. Just like this little soiree between the two of us." You chided, your eyes bright with good humor. "I would never violate a partner's trust in me."

Jack tipped the bottle in your direction, as if making a toast. "I'll drink to that, partner. What's next on the menu?"

"We'll talk out the scene and wind back down. Get cleaned up. I'll probably…" you paused, squinting at the clock over the sink. "You want some pizza? There's a joint not far from here that serves pies and chicken wings until midnight."

Jack groaned appreciatively, "I knew you were my kinda' gal. Lead the way to the debrief, ma'am."

It didn't really matter in the long run, he supposed. You obviously weren't interested in anything serious (if only because he figured that your flings with the stereotypical 'bad boy' Tequila would have become more regular in spite of the younger man's painful crush on Ginger Ale), and he could respect that. Still though, he couldn't help feeling a touch morose over the possibility of never engaging with you again. 

He toyed with the idea of asking you for another 'appointment', but dismissed the thought almost as quickly as it arrived. Better to quit while he was ahead.

Or rather, he amended ruefully as he settled down across from you in the diner booth, his hair still damp and curling slightly beneath his hat from the quick wash he had indulged in at your cabin, better to quit now before I make even more of a fool of myself.

Part Two

[dialovers-translations]

Diabolik Lovers GRAND EDITION for Switch ;; More, Blood ー Yuma Dark [Prologue]

Monologue

ーー That burning feeling inside my throat,

is the sole thing which vividly remains in my memory.

Crackling flames flare up. 

People scatter about, tears streaming down their faces

as they call out someone’s name.

And I, ran straight towards

said fire.

It’s hot. So incredibly, unbearably hot.

Yet, I desperately dashed forward.

Swallowed by the flames and smoke, 

I could barely still see my own feet with my dried out eyes.

I could barely even breathe,

as the heat assaulted my throat.

Even so, I attempt to shout.

ーー Wanting to find someone.

ーー Wanting to save someone.

???: ( ...Who? )

( Who am I looking for amidst the flames? )

???: ーー ...ar!

???: ( I don’t know. I can’t remember. )

( Who was I searching for? Where was I? For whoーー? )

???: Bear!

ー A young Yuma wakes up and finds himself in town

Lucks: You’re awake?

Bear: ...Boss...

Lucks: Are you okay? You were groaning in your sleep again. (1)

Bear: Yeah...

*Rustle*

Bear: ...What’s with that face, huh? Whatcha grinnin’ for?

Lucks: It’s because you always look like you’re about to cry when you sleep. What’s wrong? Did you dream about your mommy again?

Bear: ...As if! Don’t treat me like a kid!

Lucks: Haha! My bad, my bad! Come on, eat this. It’s today’s grub.

ー He throws some food at him

Bear: ...Where did you pick up fresh bread?

Lucks: I didn’t pick it up, I secretly took it. Of course...Making sure nobody saw me?

You should hurry up and learn how to steal food (2) without getting chased after as well. I’m sure you’re fed up with getting beat up after being caught?

Bear: ...

Lucks: Well, it’s a common beginner’s mistake. Come on, just take a bite already. I’m sure you’re starving after tossing and turning around in your sleep?

Bear: ...Thanks for the food.

Lucks: Now I think about it, quite some time has passed since you hit me up, huh? You still can’t remember anything?

Bear: ...Nothing.

Lucks: I see. Well, if only it was that easy, huh? Have your burns healed yet?

Bear: They’ve gotten way better thanks to the medicine you gave me.

Lucks: I see. Isn’t it rough to be missing your memories?

Bear: ...Well...It is, but...

But, I don’t want to force myself to remember either. I feel...comfortable staying here with you after all.

Lucks: You get to eat without getting beaten up as well, huh?

Bear: ...That’s not what I meant!

Lucks: Haha, I’m joking. Well, if that’s what you want, you can stay here as long as you’d like. The gang likes you as well.

It’s just...Things may not stay this peaceful for long.

Bear: Did something happen?

Lucks: There’s been suspicious movements amongst one of the gangs at the neighboring city. The one lead by that nasty guy sporting a mohawk (3).

Bear: Aah, that idiot whose hair looks like a chicken’s?

Lucks: Yeah...He has already done a number on three of our gang members. If they won’t back down, we won’t be able to avoid a conflict forever.

Bear: Hmph! I’ll take them on at any time! They may think they’re strong together, but they’re no match for us!

Lucks: Haha. When it comes to your built and vigor, you really are formidable. You’re totally one of us now.

...Honestly, I know that continuing doing this won’t solve anything.

Bear: Boss?

Lucks: Say, Bear? Do you like this city?

Bear: ...What do you mean?

Lucks: Exactly as I said it. Take look at those worn down streets and houses. ...This city has started to rot.

All of the aristocrats and politicians keep on running their mouths about revolution or reforms and how it’s all in the best interest of the people but...This is the reality we have to face.

In the end, it’s only the rich people who get to benefit of it. (4) On the other hand, the number of children like us who end up on the streets is only rising. 

But no matter how ashy and grey the city gets, only the sky is still...

Look, it’s this blue...Underneath the blue sky who doesn’t belong to anyone, status or family does not matter.

I believe that all humans are equal and deserve to be free.

...However, I am also aware that such utopian dreams will never come true in this rotten city.

Bear: ...

Lucks: That’s why I’ve decided I will guide this country towards the right path.

To achieve this, I have to fight my way to the top. Of course, using a method other than violence.

Bear: ...Seems like you have a long way ahead of you.

Lucks: It’s frustrating but I’m still a child right now. I’m not stupid enough to think I can win against adults who have political power. I know that this will be a long fight.

But you know, I also want to know just how far a single orphan raised in the filthy slums can go.

Now that I’ve told you all of this, you’ll have to watch me till the very end, Bear. From your VIP seat right next to me.

Bear: Hah, I just hope you don’t drag me into the grave with you.

Lucks: Just give up if that happens. You were out of luck, getting picked up by me.

Bear: ...Guess so. I do feel like I owe you one. 

A huge debt, for giving me a place I can call my own...That is.

Fine then, I’ll stick with you. Until the day...This world changes.

ー The screen fades to black

Yuma: ( Exactly, that was our dream. )

( For us brats who had no money, let alone power, changing the country, or even the world, that was the real Utopia. )

( ...However, it’s strange. )

( Boss, I’m sure you can do it. That’s what I ended up thinking. )

Monologue

A city thorn apart by the destruction of war.

in the very corner of the slums laying in the very back of said city,

that is where I lived at that time.

About my life before that,

I could not remember a single thing.

At some point, I found myself laying on the ground,

of this filthy back-alley. Why was I here? 

Where did I come from?

I did not even know who I was. 

That’s the kind of situation I found myself in.

ーー Yo, what’s up?

A young boy called out for my puzzled self,

greeting with a tone,

as if we had been long-time pals.

That was Lucks.

ーー Got nowhere to go? 

Come with me then.

The moment he spoke those words without asking about what happened,

without a single hint of hesitation. 

I was at a loss for words, 

deeply moved by this boy.

I felt indebted, as well as respect for him,

even a little envy...

But the most accurate way to describe it, would probably be admiration.

And that is how,

I decided to live alongside this person,

who was the leader of a gang.

Based on my physical appearance,

I was given the nickname ‘Bear’.

ー The flashback ends as the scene shifts to the hallway

Yui: Haah...

( It may have been decided by drawing a card, but how could I have picked such a scary-looking person... )

( He punched me when I was brought here, and he goes around calling people ‘Sow’... )

( I wonder if I’ll be okay, having someone like that watch over me...? )

Yuma: Hold it, Sow! (5)

Yui: ...!

Yuma: Don’t just be wanderin’ ‘round like ya own this place! If ya wanna have a look ‘round, at least ask me for permission first!

Yui: ( Speak of the devil...! )

Yuma: Che. Ya really not tryin’ to hide that you’re displeased, huh? ...I’m not exactly thrilled to have to babysit ya either, ya know!?

But well, guess I have no other choice. 

Oi, I’ll only tell ya this once so listen up. These are the rules attached to becomin’ my personal toy.

Yui: Toy!?

Yuma: I’m not wrong, right? My own toy which I can use as I please, whenever I want to. That’s what ya are, right?

Yui: I-It’s my first time hearing about that...!

Yuma: Do I really need to go out of my way to tell ya? That’s what Sows (6) are for, right?

Yui: ( ‘Toy’ and ‘Sow’...That’s just too cruel... )

Yuma: What? Got a problem with it, huh?

Yui: R-Rather than a problem...

Yuma: Aahn!?

Yui: ...!

( Uu...Yuma-kun really is scary with that tall physique and loud voice of his...! )

Yuma: ...

*THUD*

Yui: !!

Yuma: Can’t hear ya very well!? This toy came with a mouth, didn’t it!? Speak up a lil’ more, aahn!?

Yui: ( He’s even more scary when he towers over me like that...! )

I-It’s...nothing...

Yuma: Che, you’re so annoyin’. If ya can’t say, don’t try and mutter a halfbaked response.

This is exactly why I hate chicks who just stand there pissin’ their pants the whole time.

You’re on the same level as a farm’s pig if ya can’t even voice yer own opinion out loud.

Listen up, Sow. Watchin’ those kind of people makes me gag.

Yui: ( He doesn’t have to put it so bluntly... )

( ...However, it’s true that I’m frightened and that I can’t talk back... )

Yuma: Haah...What a fuckin’ pain in the ass.

If it turns out ya don’t taste better than Sugar-chan, I really got the short end of the stick.

Yui: ( Sugar-chan...? Could he be talking about sugar cubes? Also, he’s eating them plain... )

( I wonder if he likes sweet stuff...? )

Yuma: Well, I’ve got no other choice now that I’m chosen. There...!

Yui: Ow...!?

( He strongly wrapped his hand around my throat...!? )

Yuma: Woah there, don’t make a fuss. I’m actually holdin’ back so I don’t snap it in two.

If ya struggle too much, I might end up puttin’ in some strength.

I might just break yer neck even if I didn’t mean to?

Yui: ( I don’t want that...! )

( But it hurts and it’s hard to breathe, so I can’t just keep still...! )

*Thud*

Yuma: Did I not just tell ya to keep still!? ...Che, ya really are a pain. Come on!

*Rustle*

Yui: ( ...He loosened up a little. It’s somewhat less painful like thiーー )

Yuma: Dont get the wrong idea.

You’re a damn infuriatin’ woman. But it seems like ya are the chosen Eve after all. I’ll handle ya with care for now.

Well, either way...Ya chose me. Even if it’s a drag, I can’t alter said truth.

Yui: ( I didn’t choose him myself though... )

Yuma: That being said, ya better try yer best to become a toy to my liking, capiche? 

Yui: Why...me...?

Yuma: Hah. Haven’t those Sakamaki’s already treated ya badly plenty of times anyway?

Yui: That’s...

Yuma: What? Tryin’ to play hard to get now? Don’t cause me any more trouble!

*THUD*

Yuma: Come on. If ya understand, do as I say. If so, I’ll treat ya decently. Hehe.

Yui: ( ...! )

Yuma: Looks like ya don’t like the ring of that? Heh. Perfect. 

Ya should have just been honest back then. Don’t be havin’ regrets now...!

ー Yuma bites her

Yui: !!

( Ow...! He suddenly...! )

Yuma: Nn...Nn?

Yui: ( Uu... )

Yuma: ...Haah...Heeh...Guess this is to be expected of Eve? Ya taste quite nice.

Nn...Hah...Amazin’...The blood’s so sweet...Just like sugar...No, even sweeter?

I wasn’t lookin’ forward to havin’ to watch over some chick’s sad ass but...Hehe, in this case, it might actually be kinda fun.

Yui: Please, stop...

Yuma: Hah, already havin’ regrets? Didn’t I tell ya...!?

Yui: Uu, ah...!

Yuma: ...Hah...

Yui: ( He keeps on thrusting them in and pulling back out...I’m becoming numb from the pain... )

Yuma: Hehe...I think it’s annoyin’ when a woman goes quiet after I yell at her, but I don’t dislike chicks who keep silent durin’ this kinda thing?

I wouldn’t mind if ya expressed yer desires, or let me hear some nice cries...tho!

ー He pushes Yui away

*Rustle*

Yui: Kyah...!

*Thud*

Yuma: I’ve had enough. I’m sleepy too so I’m done for today.

Well, guess now ya just have to try yer hardest to be in my good grace, huh?

Yui: ...

Yuma: Hehe...See ya, Sow.

ー Yuma leaves

Yui: ( ...No matter where I go, I always get treated like this. )

( Although I still can’t believe...I actually want to have my blood sucked myself. )

( If I could, I’d honestly love to go to a world without any Vampires... )

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

Translation notes

(1) The verb うなされる or ‘unasareru’ refers to both ‘having a nightmare/bad dream’ as well as the noises and movements accompanying it.

(2) He uses the term ‘to supply’ or ‘to raise’ here, but it is obvious from the context that they are stealing food. 

(3) They describe his hairstyle as トサカ頭 or ‘tosaka atama’ with ‘tosaka’ referring to a cockscomb.

(4) Literally he says they are the ones who ‘get to suckle the sweet nectar’. 

(5) そこの or ‘soko no’ is a set phrase shouted when you want to stop somenoe in their tracks. You will often hear it being used by the police and such when they spot someone suspicious. Usually it is combined with 君 or ‘kimi’, in which case you can translate it as ‘You over there!’. In this case, I had to alter it a little because he uses Yui’s nickname ‘Sow’. 

(6) The word メスブタ or ‘mesubuta’ technically means ‘Sow’. However, it is also a common slang word to call somewhere a ‘whore’ or ‘slut’.

→  LIKE MY TRANSLATIONS? SUPPORT ME ON KO-FI!

<- [ Yuma prologue ] [ Dark 01 ] ->

[agathasangel]

you deserve to feel good all the time (sally mckenna x reader)

for anon who requested: “oh okay so me and my overactive imagination have a new autistic reader idea 😅what about reader and her parent(s) goes to Hotel Cortez. her parent(s) aren’t the best, maybe they’re kind of abusive and don’t accept reader because she’s autistic. well, Countess ends up feeding on her parent(s) so reader is left alone. reader finds out and maybe has a meltdown, but Sally is there and surprisingly knows a lot about autism so she’s able to calm reader down and help her through it. reader has to either stay at the hotel or go live somewhere else because her parent(s) were all she had so Sally makes the decision to have reader stay at the hotel and take care of her because obviously she would do a better job than Countess because Sally knows more about how to help someone who’s autistic. and reader ends up bonding with Sally too because of how accepting she was and her parents were never like that. i know this is super specific and you don’t have to do it, but i thought i would share in case you were willing to do it. 😊”

so yeah basically that’s the summary ^^ also this is kind of an AU because the timeline I’m using does not line up with the show at all lol.

Trigger Warnings for meltdowns, death, ableism and mentions of sally’s drug addiction

I myself am autistic (at least according to my therapist) and a lot of these reactions/experiences that the reader has related to her autism are my own or close to my own. Hopefully I do this request justice and do a good job and don’t oversimplify anything.

You ran through the hotel, searching for your parents, but they were nowhere in sight. 

Breathe, you thought to yourself, don’t break down, they’re probably just out getting food or something and didn’t want you bothering them. You just have a couple hours of freedom, you can let yourself enjoy it.

You tried to enjoy the few hours you got to yourself without your parents. Without them mocking the way you talk or walk or move your hands, without them grabbing you with full knowledge of how uncomfortable it makes you. No cracks about how you had to leave college because you “can’t take care of yourself”.

The first words your dad said after you checked into the hotel were “God, it would be so much easier if we had a normal kid, wouldn’t it?”

As if you didn’t have feelings. As if you weren’t a human being who could fucking hear them.

It was 4pm. Your parents didn’t come back.

6pm. Nothing.

10. No sign of them. Neither one answering their phones. Maybe they’re finally abandoning you the way they’ve threatened to for ages.

Midnight. Still nothing.

2am and you started looking again. You couldn’t find anything. 

What happened?

You started to panic and could feel a full-on meltdown coming on.

You tried to be still and silent, but it proved impossible. You began to cry and cry uncontrollably, rocking and hitting your head, unable to stop. You felt like your life was ending. 

Two women showed up beside you. One was older and appeared to be the manager of the hotel, the other was a bit younger, with crimped blond hair and heavy makeup. You barely noticed either of them, however.

The older one touched your back and you screamed. You hated when people touched your back.

“Hey, do you want to take my hand, honey? It’ll be alright, I promise.” said the blonde woman. You obeyed her.

“Wh-Who are you? Where are my parents? Do you know?”

“Your parents... died. I’m sorry you had to find out this way. It was The Countess..” said the older woman.

You couldn’t speak, but you had about a billion questions for the two women. For example, Who the fuck is The Countess?

“You don’t need to speak. Just breathe, okay? In and out, good. Good girl. I’m Sally, by the way. This is Iris. You’re gonna be okay, I promise. I’m not gonna let anyone hurt you.”

You waved, not knowing what to do, completely overwhelmed.

“You know what, it’s late. I’m gonna take her back to my room and have her rest. We’ll deal with the rest of this shit tomorrow when she can talk and isn’t so clearly exhausted,” said Sally.

“I-I.....can..... talk. It’s...okay.” you said, each word making you more spaced out and tired.

“No. You’ve been through too much. I’m taking you up to my room and you’re gonna rest. You don’t have to speak or do anything you don’t want to do.”

You followed Sally, so scared and tired and in need of some damn sleep.

“You’re safe with me. I promise. Here’s, um, the bed. Get some sleep. I’ll be right here if you need anything. The Countess doesn’t want to hurt you either, I think she wanted to- it doesn’t matter now.”

“Who is... The C-Countess?”

“It’s a long story and you likely won’t believe me until you meet her. But it’s alright, you’re safe. I’ll protect you. Can I come over there and hold you?”

You nodded. Sally got on her bed next to you and put an arm around you. You winced as she touched your upper back.

“You don’t like when people touch you there, do you?”

You shook your head no, and she put your arms around your waist instead.

“Thank you.”

“Hey, I understand.”

Sally made you feel more comfortable speaking and you said,

“My parents didn’t understand that. They used to touch me there as much as they could, just to upset me. They laughed at me trying to keep my wet hair off my back when I took a shower. They thought it was funny.”

“What does that feel like to you?”

“I don’t know. It doesn’t, like, hurt, but it’s terrible, it makes my skin crawl just thinking about it.”

“Aw, honey...”

“It’s dumb, I’m sorry I’m so sensitive.”

“Hey, no, don’t apologize. You know, you remind me of my baby sister. I loved that girl so much when we were growin’ up. I practically raised her. So God only knows how she turned out as good as she did. Our parents were terrible, they were never there. She was the only one who stayed with me. Until she didn’t.”

“What happened to her?”

“It was all my fault, really. I put her in danger. I sold drugs in the 90s, and I started using when we were living together. She was in school, and I had to find her somewhere safer to live. So I did. She’s okay, very successful actually, and she’s still alive. I’m the one who died young. I miss her.”

“You... died? What? I’m sorry, you-”

“Yes. I’m a ghost, The Countess is a vampire, I think Iris might also be a vampire now too? I don’t know. I know you think I’m crazy now but trust me.”

Sally saw your look of disbelief, then held out her hand and said, “Watch.”

As she spoke her fingers began to disappear and reappear.

“What-”

“I’m a ghost. I can alter the way I’m seen by others, if I want to. I’m surprised other ghosts don’t do it more often really. One time I scared some kid by making all my teeth fall out. It was awesome. I didn’t wanna scare you though. I like you.”

“Thanks?”

“Sorry, I-”

“No, it’s- um, how did you die?”

“Iris fuckin’ pushed me out the window.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah.”

“What was your sister like?”

“She was the best. Sweet, talented, sensitive. But people didn’t understand her. I did, though. At least best I could. We only had each other. Our parents didn’t care, the kids at school bullied her relentlessly. I had to protect her. She sometimes had meltdowns like the one you had earlier too-”

“I’m sorry-”

“No! It’s not your fault! You were terrified. Anyone would be. It was pretty intense though, I was worried.”

“Was your sister autistic like me?”

“She was. We didn’t know for sure until after she stopped living with me, but we both kinda knew.”

“Oh.”

“Anyway, it’s almost four in the morning, you really gotta get some sleep. Come here.”

You did, and you fell asleep in Sally’s arms.

When you woke up, Sally was still there, as well as another woman, blonde and glamorous. They were arguing.

“What do I do then if you don’t want me to turn her? Kill her-”

“Please don’t hurt her, I can- she-”

Sally noticed you were awake, and saw your scared face.

“It’s okay, no one’s gonna hurt you. I’ll protect you.”

The blonde woman who you assumed was The Countess approached you.

“Do you have anywhere to go?”

You shook your head no. Sally spoke up for you, intuiting that you must be stressed.

“She can stay with me. I’ll make sure she’s safe. She won’t bother you or anything. She’s sweet and quiet and-”

“Sally, it’s okay. You want her, you keep her.” said The Countess.

“Alright. Thanks. Can you get out of my room now? You’re freaking her out.”

She left without saying a word.

“I’m sorry about that, (y/n). You’re safe here. You can stay as long as you need to. I’ll be here. This is a dangerous place but I’ll make sure you’re safe, alright?”

“Okay.”

You still felt sad. Not about staying with Sally, you liked her, but about the way The Countess talked about you. The way your parents talked about you. 

“Hey. I just want you to know that I don’t see you as some kind of pet or anything. I know that’s what you’re thinking, that’s how people treated my sister sometimes too. It was awful. No, I just want- I just want you to be okay. I want someone to spend time with. it’s awful lonely being a ghost, but I thought maybe if-”

“I understand, Sally. I like you a lot, and I want to stay here. It’s just sad the way most people see me.”

“It isn’t your fault, you know. I need you to know that.”

“I do. You make it easier to feel okay because you’re so nice to me.”

“I’m glad. You deserve to feel good all the time.”

You started to tear up a bit. No one had ever said that to you before. You were always expected to make yourself uncomfortable, speak when you didn’t want to, shut up when you wanted to talk, wear clothes that pinched, let people touch you when it made your skin crawl, and you were still made fun of because still, somehow, none of it was enough. But with Sally you didn’t have to do any of that, and yet you still felt loved by her in a way that you never have been before.

“Aw, hey, don’t cry. You’ll be okay. I’m gonna make sure of it. I can’t actually leave the hotel, but I can make sure you get everything you need. Are you a picky eater by any chance?”

“A little bit, but not as much as I used to be.”

“Alright. And you’re good on clothes?”

“I think so.”

“Good. I’ve gotta say, I’m excited. It’s been so long since I’ve felt a real connection to anyone here.”

“You really feel a connection with me?”

“Yes, honey, I do. Do you.... feel the same way?” Sally asked you. She said it as if she was worried you may say no.

“I do, Sally. I really do. I know how it feels to be lonely like you are. It’s how I’ve felt my whole life. Maybe... I...”

“Maybe you’ll learn to love it here. Once you’re comfortable I’ll introduce you to the other ghosts. They’re annoying, but we’re still a family or whatever it is they call it. They’ll like you. I promise.”

You spent the rest of the day in Sally’s room with her, barely talking, not really even needing to talk. She was the one who broke the silence by telling you

“I like this. Just being here.”

“Me too.”

“I want to kiss you. Can I?”

“Yes.”

You had never been kissed before, but you let Sally be your first. You felt so... loved by her as she kissed you and held you lightly by your waist.

You stayed in the hotel with Sally, and it quickly felt more like home than anywhere else you’ve ever lived. You became a part of the family, and you and Sally fell deeper in love. Sally protected you, knowing the dangers of the hotel, and made sure you felt okay. Your meltdowns became far less frequent as you were no longer being forced to be someone you weren’t.

[mellometal]

It seems like Dhar Mann has fucked up AGAIN. I'm pissed. He really thought that it would be cool to make ANOTHER video about ASD to spread the ableist, misinformed, harmful narrative that "autism isn't a disability, it's a different ability". LET'S TALK ABOUT IT.

To sum up the video, an autistic man who uses a device to communicate with people gets hired at this restaurant. The boss says to the guy who brought in said autistic man that having a disabled person working at his restaurant would "make things worse". The guy tries to stand up for the autistic man by saying that he's smart and stuff, but doesn't bother to call out the boss being completely ableist.

The boss then tells the autistic man to not touch anything and to stay out of the way, which is underestimating what he's capable of. When the two cooks in the kitchen ask a genuine question about who their new coworker is and why he uses a communication device to speak, the boss doesn't introduce him to the cooks and says that he's "nobody".

Pretty much the ONLY person who bothered to do anything remotely positive with the autistic man (that was shown) was the pastry chef. She was teaching him how to decorate a cake, was very patient with him, and gave him praise along the way. She was interested in getting to know him. She wasn't mean to him or anything. She stood up for him when the boss was being an ableist bag of dicks. He even threatened to fire this guy, who did nothing wrong, just for being autistic and the boss had no idea how to help accommodate his employee in any way. He ended up discriminating his employee for being autistic. (Which he could get sued for in the United States, if this happened in real life. Disabled people are a protected class in the workplace under Equal Employment Opportunity, or EEO. Dhar Mann, this includes autistic people.)

Hell, even the autistic man stood up to the boss. He went into how nobody wanted to hang out with him and stuff when he was growing up, that he had to be hidden away from other people, and nobody bothered to give him a chance because he's autistic and uses a communication device to speak. He's good with people. He pretty much told his boss to stop being an ableist piece of shit.

When the cooks and the pastry chef all say that their new coworker fixed the fryer and decorated the cake, the boss then changes his tune. Happy ending, Whoop-dee-fuckin-doo.

First off, how does being nonverbal affect a person's intelligence in any way? How does a communication device affect a person's intelligence? Let me tell you, none of these things affect a person's intelligence whatsoever. To think that they would is misinformed at best, and ableist at worst.

There are people who genuinely don't know about all the different types of communication that people use, and that's okay! I'm not mad at anyone who doesn't know about different types of communication besides oral speech, writing, and sign language. (I've worked with and interacted with a few people who use some of these different forms of communication.)

Some people use a communication device like a tablet for Text-to-Speech (that was shown in the video). I worked with someone throughout school who used a communication device.

Some people use basic mands (expressive language) and/or basic statements. An example of that would be a person saying, "Me, walk." to mean they're going on a walk. Sometimes they'll make a gesture to show they're going on a walk when they do this. I work with someone who mainly uses this form of communication.

Some use books or wear something like a belt with pictures held on with velcro that they can take out and put back in their books or belt. I've worked with someone in school who mainly used this form of communication.

Alright, now that's out of the way....onto my response. I'm happy that I saved screenshots of my comments because I think Dhar Mann deleted them! (Edit: Scratch that, I commented these on Dhar Mann's other account for his behind the scenes shit instead of his main.) I might get blocked, but it'll be worth it. I have multiple accounts, so I'm not going down easy. He really can't handle being told that his narrative is wrong. (I've been wrong many times before, so this ain't about that "holier-than-thou" shit. I try my best to fix things, learn, and improve. I mean, it hurts sometimes, but I at least try to improve myself.)

This video hit home. I had to hide being autistic from my employer because I was afraid of being rejected for a job opportunity because of it and I was afraid of dealing with ableist people like these men shown above.

While I'm fortunate to be able to hold down a job, there are many autistic people who can't hold down a job or can't work at all. This shit doesn't help.

(For anyone who needs a description for my comments....I am calling out Dhar Mann for his blatant ableism and his fans in the comments for eating up this ableist, misinformed, harmful narrative and about the performative activism quite a few people on IG are about. It's way too long for me to go into extreme detail.)

(ETA: Yes, autistic nonbinary people exist. I didn't intentionally forget y'all in my comments! I love y'all! /p I wrote it while I was quite heated, plus the sleep deprivation didn't help.)

The YouTuber I mentioned, for anyone who wants to know, is TheMysteriousMrEnter. He's an autistic creator who makes commentaries about cartoons (just animations in general), he has talked about his issues with @utism $p3aks, and a lot of other things. He's even talked about his own cyber harassment and how he had stalkers on a few occasions. Honestly, I can relate to him on a few things, mainly because I've been harassed on the internet and have had stalkers online. Plus the love for cartoons and anime. If you're into cartoon commentaries, check him out. He's underrated. (Also....some ace representation for all my ace people here.)

Dhar Mann's a real piece of human garbage! The fact that he still has supporters is sickening. Again, I feel bad for all the actors in his videos. They deserve better.

[nikki-writes-stuff]

Straight Lines and Sharp Angles (Tony Stark x Reader)

Summary: After finding out that Tony Stark is your soulmate, you spend the next several years avoiding the wild, cocky playboy. But when he shows up on your doorstep one day asking for you to give him a chance, you start to reassess your assumptions about the man with your matching soulmark. 

Pairing: Tony Stark x Reader, Soulmate! AU

A/N: I still don’t know if this is going to be a oneshot or not, but for the moment there aren’t any warnings here! Maybe just fluff if you squint; I didn’t realize I was so soft for Tony Stark before writing this! I hope y’all enjoy. Let me know if you think I should write a second part. 

Tony Stark – it was a household name, one that everybody had heard of, no matter what country they lived in, what language they spoke. Nearly every person in the world had heard of the famous billionaire, and you’d grown up hearing his name on the news.

Up until the day you were 16, he was just another celebrity, albeit one that you looked down upon. Nearly every month, he was in the papers for doing something reckless and stupid, but at least it made for good entertainment. However, that all changed after one of his more drunken interviews on Access Hollywood.

When your mother had called you into the living room that day to watch it, you’d been confused by the shocked, almost horrified look on her face.

“Mom, what is it?” you’d asked, furrowing your eyebrows. “He didn’t blow up a country, did he?”

“I… No,” she’d said carefully.

“Screwed the first lady?”

“No. But-“

“Skinny dipped in a public fountain again?”

“Honey, just… Just watch.”

Picking up the remote, she’d gestured for you to sit down beside her before pressing play. Perplexed, you’d dropped down onto the sofa, watching as the famous philanthropist swayed drunkenly on his feet.

“Mr. Stark,” the reporter started, “Is it true that you broke a world record for the amount donated to UNICEF in one year?”

“Oh, please,” he slurred in response. “The point in giving to charity is to do it out of the, the goodness of your heart. So I will by no means confirm the fact that you just stated. It just wouldn’t be, be ethical to mention the literal billions myself and my company have given to charity in the past couple o’ years.”

The reporter had smiled at that, but you couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

“Asshole,” you muttered under your breath.

“So are you out celebrating tonight, then, Mr. Stark?” the reporter carried on.

“Oh, yeah; Playboy called and said their models are eternally grateful for my contributions to humanity.” He winked at young man beside him, who only grinned and nodded. “So I’m headed over to the mansion to let them thank me in person, if you know what I mean.”

“Oh, I have a pretty good idea.”

“Mom, this guy is a complete douchebag,” you said, “but I don’t see why you wanted me to-“

“Shh! Just watch.”

With a sigh, you did as she said, watching as Tony seemed to sober up a bit, looking into the camera.

“Sorry - I’ve been told it’s not good for business to talk about banging supermodels. Plus, I mean. I can only imagine how pissed my soulmate is by now.”

For a minute, the reporter froze, his eyes darting to the cameramen in surprise before turning back to the billionaire.

“I’m… I’m sorry, Mr. Stark, but I wasn’t aware that you had a soulmate.”

“Oh, yeah,” the young man laughed. “Shit, my bad. I’m not supposed to talk about that on tv. Fuck, Obadiah is gonna kill me-“

“Are you and your soulmate together, Mr. Stark?”

“What? No. Fuck, you think I’d be out right now if I had a hot piece of ass waiting for me at home?” He stumbled on his own feet for a second, and he reached out to stabilize himself on one of the cameramen. “Shit- Nah, I haven’t even met her yet. At least. I mean, I think it’s a she. Might be a he, who knows? But, I dunno, I just have a feeling that they’ll have tits.”

All of a sudden, Tony looked as if he’d just come up with a brilliant idea, and before anyone could say anything to stop him, he was reaching down and pulling his t-shirt off, flinging it somewhere behind him. And, all of a sudden, you realized why your mother had made you watch this debacle of an interview.

Tony Stark had a soulmark that sprawled from his left shoulder down to his right hip, and it was made up of a geometric pattern. The mark contained crisp lines and sharp angles, all coming together in unique shapes that stretched across his torso. Your mouth went dry, and you felt the blood drain from your face as you stared at it and the man who it belonged to as he pointed at the camera.

“If you’re out there,” he started, but a hiccup shook his entire frame before he could continue. Blinking his eyes a few times, he shook his head and tried again.

“If you’re out there, and you have my matching mark, please, just…please contact me. Send me a letter, shoot me an email, fuckin send a carrier pigeon – just let me know you’re alive, at least.”

From there, he made to say something else, but he suddenly looked as if he was going to be sick. His face took on a greenish tinge, and he covered his mouth and turned away from the camera, stumbling away by a few feet. Your mom paused the tv at the first sound of his retching, and for a long moment, you just sat there in silence, feeling the weight of what had just happened settle over your shoulders.

Your eyes trailed down to your thigh, to the geometric soulmark that had been painted across it since you’d been born. You’d always liked to think about who your soulmate was, what they would be like and how the two of you would meet. But never, in all of your years of fantasizing, had you ever imagined you would be bonded to a celebrity. Much less an arrogant, loud-mouthed, entitled playboy.

“…Sweetheart, I… I’m so sorry. He had no right to speak about you that way-“

A bark of laughter escaped your mouth, and you looked to your mom incredulously.

“He has no right to do any of the shit he does,” you fired back, and your mom didn’t even try to correct you on your language.

You’d stood up, pacing the length of your living room, feeling a cold dread start to settle in your stomach.

“…He’s not my soulmate,” you eventually declared, eliciting a sharp exhalation from your mother.

“Sweetie, his mark looked just like yours-“

“Well, I don’t care,” you interrupted her. “He doesn’t get to be my soulmate. And not just because he talked about my tits on national television. It’s because he makes his billions off the suffering of others. He manufactures weapons, for God’s sake. And he thinks that a few donations to UNICEF is gonna make up for it?

“I would rather die than be with Tony Stark.”

_____________

Years passed after that fateful day when you were sixteen, and you went to painstaking lengths to make sure Tony Stark remained unaware of your existence. Even after he hung up his weapons development and turned into the beloved, lauded Iron Man, you couldn’t find it within yourself to reach out to him. In your mind, he would always be the same spoiled, drunken brat you’d watch humiliate you on Access Hollywood.

Ever since then, you only ever wore pants that covered your whole leg, even in the summertime. You didn’t have any social media profiles, and if anyone asked if you had a soulmate, you would lie and say you were one of the many who’d been born without a mark. Even when you moved to Massachusetts to start college at Harvard, you did your best to stay out of the limelight, instead choosing to throw yourself into your studies. And despite the temptation, you avoided all news that pertained to Tony Stark.

But, despite all of that, you still had a social life. You had a good, tight-knit group of friends, and you were mostly happy with where you were at. You were in your second year of college, and you were living on your own in a tiny, matchbox apartment just three minutes from campus. And you had grown comfortable with what you had.

Too comfortable.

Because one day, when your good friend Jade asked you for the millionth time to hang out at her parent’s pool with her, you’d said yes. She’d worn you down with promises that it would only be you, her, and a few of your mutual friends, and you’d reasoned that it wouldn’t hurt if the people who were closest to you knew about your soulmark.

And, sure enough, the pool day came and went without incident. You went, you swam, you dodged any questions they had about your mark, and you quickly forgot about the entire day within a week of it happening.

But on the seventh day after the pool, you heard a knock at your door.

_____________

“Coming!”

You put down your textbook and rubbed your eyes, glancing at your phone. It was 6:45 in the evening, and you’d once again gotten carried away with your homework. With a sigh, you stood up from your bed and stretched your arms above your head, listening to your joints pop with the movement.

Once again, a firm knock came to your door, and you let your arms drop to your side with a huff.

“I said I’m coming!” you called out, crossing the small living space.

Unlocking the door, you went to pull it open, but it barely moved an inch as you tugged at it. It wasn’t the first time that had happened; in fact, every day you told yourself that you would get one of your friend’s dads to come help you fix the door jam, but over a year had gone by without you doing anything of the sort.

With a grunt, you pulled on the doorknob with all your might until, finally, it popped open. You huffed, pushing some hair out of your face as you straightened up.

“Sorry about that. It sticks someti-“

Your words died on your tongue when you saw who was standing before you. You blinked, wondering if you were dreaming as you stared blankly at Tony Stark, who was looking between you and the door with arched eyebrows.

“…Candy gram?”

You huffed, looking down to the large bouquet of red roses he held in his hands. His hair was slicked back, and he was sporting his usual impeccably-sculpted facial hair. Plus, you knew next to nothing about men’s fashion, but even you could tell that his charcoal-gray suit had to have cost him thousands of dollars, if not tens of thousands.

“Um… Hi,” you greeted, shifting on your feet. “Can I help you, Mr. Stark?”

Once more, his eyebrows twitched, and he took a step forward.

“You know… For most of my life, I’ve been preparing a little monologue for whenever I finally got to meet you, but for the life of me I can’t remember a single word of it,” he admitted, a ghost of a smile spreading across his lips.

You nodded your head, still unimpressed.

“Does any of it include how you found me?”

The smile faltered on his face, and he shifted uncomfortably on his feet.

“I have my A.I. routinely check the internet for any image matches to my soulmark,” he explained. “Your picture popped up this morning, so I flew over from Malibu and-“

“Wait, my picture? I don’t have any pictures of myself up on the internet. Not any that have my soulmark in them, at least.”

Tony furrowed his eyebrows and made to reach into his jacket pocket, trying to juggle the large bundle of flowers for a second before giving up.

“Uh… Here, hold these for me,” he said, all but shoving the roses into your arms. You scrambled to accept them, immediately getting hit by a wave of their scent as you watched him pull out his phone.

After unlocking it, he turned it around to face you, showing you his home screen background. Your eyes widened as you looked at the picture of yourself in your swimsuit, smiling at something off camera with your soulmark in plain view. You hadn’t even remembered seeing anyone take your picture, but there was no denying that it was from Jade’s pool party.

“I… I didn’t post that,” you stammered. “How did you-“

“Someone named Jazzi put it on her FaceBook,” he explained, shoving the device back into his pocket. “Friend of yours, I’m guessing?”

“Yeah…” You trailed off, frowning. “But, wait, you set it as your phone background?”

He didn’t even have the decency to look sheepish.

“Well, yeah. I mean, my soulmate turned out to be a smoking hot college girl. Why wouldn’t I have you as my screensaver?”

You felt your cheeks heat up, and you shook your head, not knowing what to say; your world had suddenly been tilted on its axis, and your brain couldn’t keep up with it.

“So,” he continued on, oblivious to your inner turmoil. “I thought that we could have some dinner together tonight. You know, wine, dine, get to know one another. From there, I can have your things moved to my place – you’re gonna love Malibu. It’s so much nicer than Massachusetts – summer, all year long. Beaches, palm trees-“

“Wait, wait, wait,” you said, holding a hand up. “Just… Pause for a second. Pause. You want me to move in with you?”

“Well… Yeah. I’m on the wrong side of 40, hon – I’ve waited long enough, I think. Now, I’m starving. Do you like Italian? I know a place close by-“

“Tony!” you interrupted.

He stopped in his tracks, his mouth still open as you shook your head.

“I’m not… I’m not going to move in with you,” you told him incredulously. “I can’t just put my life on hold at the drop of a dime. I have my own home; I’m in college. I’m not going to leave that behind just because you showed up at my doorstep saying you want to make up for lost time.”

Tony sighed, sliding his hands into his pockets as he chewed on his bottom lip for a second, thinking over what you’d just said.

“…I get that,” he finally conceded. “I guess that would be a little too fast. …Alright, well, I can buy a place up here, I guess. We can live there until after you’re finished up with university-“

“Ok, you’re…clearly still not getting this. Tony, has it occurred to you that maybe, just maybe, there’s a reason why you haven’t found me until now?”

At that, he was left speechless, and for a second you wondered how many times in his life someone had managed to leave him without anything to say. You could practically see the gears turning in his mind as he tried to fathom the idea, and you used his silence as an opportunity to speak your mind.

“Listen, I get that you’re a big deal. I mean, you have your own action figure for crying out loud. But I’m perfectly content with where I’m at right now. I don’t need a reckless, arrogant billionaire showing up in my life thinking he owns me just because we happen to have the same pattern on our skin.

“Now, if you want to get to know me, I guess I can live with that. And maybe something will one day come of it. But if I do ever move in with you, that’s gonna be years from now. And any kind of relationship we do go into is going to have to move slower than what you’re clearly expecting.”

As you spoke, you could see Tony’s face start to grow more and more somber, and there was an edge to his stare that made goosebumps spring up over your arms. His hands were balled up into fists in his pockets, and once you were done speaking, he ran his tongue over his teeth as he considered his next words.

“…You don’t know a thing about me,” he started off. “Reckless? Yeah. Arrogant? Maybe on a bad day. But there’s a whole different side to me that you would be able to know if you just gave me a chance. Do you know how much it’s hurt? To watch the years tick by, knowing you have someone out there that the universe hand-picked for you, but still not able to do anything about it except sit and wait with your thumbs up your ass until something turns up?”

“Not as much as it hurt me to hear you objectify and humiliate me on television when I was sixteen years old,” you fired back. “And, yeah, my heart bleeds for you. However hard it was for you to wait for me, I’m sure the women, booze, and drugs did more than enough to numb the pain. I’ve been meaning to ask you, how did that evening at the Playboy mansion go, hm?”

“…I had no way of knowing you were only sixteen,” he tried to defend himself. “And that was one time; it was a drunken mistake, and I don’t even drink like that anymore. And, for the record, I haven’t touched drugs in years; I’ve gotten better-“

“And yet you show up here, thinking a bouquet of flowers and a fancy dinner will be enough to get me to move in with you? Even if you’ve gotten better, I can’t just look past that arrogance, Tony. If you want me in your life, you’re gonna have to prove it.”

With that, you turned on your heel and walked back into your apartment, slamming the door shut behind you. The last thing you saw before it closed was the look of hurt on Tony’s face as he watched you walk away, and you waited by the door until you heard the click of his footsteps as he walked away. As soon as you were sure he was gone, you felt the dam inside of you burst, and tears started leaking down your cheeks as you lowered yourself into one of your dining room chairs.

You sat there for a while, crying and clutching the flowers, watching as your tears dripped down onto their blood red petals. Because even though you’d been avoiding Tony for your entire adult life, and despite the fact that you’d meant every word you’d said about his arrogance, you still couldn’t deny that there had been a small, treacherous part of you that had wanted to go with him to dinner. That was the part of you that whispered to you, saying that he was still your soulmate, that there had to be a reason why he was your chosen one, even if you couldn’t see it.

But, as you dried your tears and stood up to find a vase for your roses, you snuffed that voice out. Whether or not Tony would get his chance with you was now completely up to him. If he was willing to show you that he would be able to put away his pride and work with you towards the relationship he wanted so desperately, then you would give him a chance.

But miles away, soaring through the air, Tony was developing his own plan. He’d spent enough time waiting. And now that he’d found you, he was gonna make damn sure that you didn’t slip away from him again.

_____________

You’d worked at the campus coffee shop as a barista for about a year, now, and you’d grown to enjoy it. It wasn’t your favorite among the three jobs you kept to afford rent and student loan payments, but it definitely wasn’t the worst. You’d gotten to know your regular customers, and your coworkers were generally cool people, easy to get along with. You were used to the little routine you had at the café, and that was why it was so jarring when, in the middle of your shift, a UPS delivery man walked in with a large package, claiming it was for you.

“I… I didn’t order anything,” you’d tried to tell him. “And even if I had, I wouldn’t have given my work address.”

“Look,” he’d sighed, “your name is on the package, and I had very specific instructions not to leave until you’ve accepted it. Can you please just sign for it?”

With an annoyed huff, you’d done as he asked, taking your 15 minute break to open it in the back room. Your coworkers had all watched the scene with piqued interest, but you’d shrugged them off when they asked any questions.

Cutting through the tape and cardboard, you sliced across the top seam of the box and opened it…only to find three more boxes. Shoe boxes, to be specific. One was labelled from Miu Miu, one read Christian Louboutin, and the third was from Louis Vuitton. You gulped, opening them each up to find the most stunning pairs of high heels you’d ever seen.

You jumped when you heard a gasp sound from behind you, and you turned to see your coworker Anna staring over your shoulder.

“Oh. My. God! Those shoes are to DIE for,” she squealed. “Ohmygosh, can I hold them?”

Arching an eyebrow, you handed her one of the Miu Miu heels, which were encrusted in glittering gemstones that you were sure couldn’t be actual diamonds. No one would be able to bring themselves to wear diamonds on their feet, right?

“Holy fuck, I think these are real diamonds!”

Well, shit.

“How in the flying fuck did you manage to afford these?” Anna demanded, handing the shoe back to you reluctantly. “Did you get yourself a sugar daddy?”

“No,” you immediately answered her. “No. This is just… It’s a long story. But I’ll tell you one thing – I will not be keeping them.”

“What? Girl, are you crazy? …If you’re going to get rid of them, could I have maybe just one-“

“I’m giving them back to the asshat that sent them here in the first place, Anna,” you informed her. “I’m 99% sure I know exactly who it is, and if he thinks he can buy me, then he’s got another thing coming.”

There hadn’t been a return address on the package, and so at the end of your shift and before your American History class, you dropped it off at your apartment and told yourself you’d get them back to Tony later, not even thinking to wonder how in the world Tony had been able to guess your shoe size perfectly.

The next day, though, while you were working your shift at the campus bookshop, yet another package had come for you. This time, it was a Chanel purse with a note attached to it that simply said, ‘I’m sorry.’ You’d simply snorted and thrown it into the box with your unwanted shoes that night when you got home, only mildly concerned that Tony had found out A) where you worked, and B) your work schedule. But, you reasoned, if he’d been able to find out where you lived, it wasn’t that surprising that he knew the rest of it, what with the resources he had at his disposal.  

The third gift, though, went above and beyond the others, and it crossed a line that you hadn’t even thought Tony Stark would cross.

That night, you’d come home from your day of classes, feeling relieved that no other delivery men had tracked you down to give you an insanely expensive package. You’d changed into your pajamas and snuggled into bed, ready to watch some Netflix and get a head start on homework.

And, of course, that was when you heard the doorbell.

With a sigh, you’d stood up and marched over to the door, ready to tell Tony that it was too late for him to bother you and prepared to force him to take back all of his gifts. But, instead of your soulmate, a delivery woman was standing at the door, holding a package in one hand while a crate rested at her feet.

“Are you (Y/N)?”

With a sigh, you nodded your head and signed for the gifts, not even wanting to fathom a guess at what Tony had in store for you this time. After accepting the crate in her hands and setting it down on your couch, you watched in surprise as she picked up the crate, cooing to whatever was inside of it before holding it out to you.

“I hope he’s able to find a good home with you,” she said, smiling, and your heart clenched when you heard a soft whimper come from inside.

“Wait, wait, wait,” you said, shaking your head. “Please tell me there isn’t a living organism inside that box. Please, tell me he didn’t-“

You were cut off by a sharp, high pitched bark, and you backed up a step.

“I can’t accept this,” you told the woman, and you watched as she pursed her lips.

“Well, whether you want it or not, there’s a dog in here for you. And I was told that, if you didn’t take it, it’s going to the nearest pound.”

“I…”

You trailed off, watching as a small, wet nose poked out of one of the thin slots in the crate. You didn’t have a dog, nor did you want a dog at the current point in time – you could barely afford to feed yourself, much less a pet.

But you weren’t heartless, and you couldn’t bare to send an innocent animal to a pound that, for all you knew, could be a kill-shelter. And so, with a heavy feeling in your gut, you took the crate and closed the door behind the delivery woman, setting it on the ground and kneeling down to open it.

Inside was the most beautiful puppy you’d ever seen. It was a Samoyed, and its fluffy, pure-white fur offset its big, black eyes and its dark, button nose. It squirmed in your hands as you lifted it from the crate, and your heart all but melted when, after you sat it down, it climbed into your lap and rose up on its back legs to put its paws on your chest.

“Well, hey there, little guy,” you murmured, reaching down to the collar on its neck. It had a circular pendant hanging from it. On one side, there was a phone number listed, one that you didn’t recognize, and on its other side there was a name printed on its gleaming silver surface.

“…Ozzy, huh? Nice to meet you, Ozzy. I’m so sorry that you’re just a pawn in a rich man’s game to win my heart, but…at least you’re cute.”

Ozzy panted as he looked up at you, and you found yourself scratching behind his ears as your eyes fell onto the other package that had come with your new household member. You leaned over and pulled it to you, peeling off the tape as Ozzy waged war against one of your slippers.

Inside of the box, there were all the supplies one would ever need to take care of a dog. There was a black harness that came with two matching leashes, and further down you found two marble bowls for food and water. There were also more toys for Ozzy than you’d ever owned cumulatively during your childhood, and beneath it all there was a small, embroidered dog bed that had “Ozzy Stark” embroidered on it in gold thread. You huffed at the last name, wondering if it would be too petty to use a pair of scissors to remove ‘Stark’ from it, but you reasoned that you wouldn’t resort to that just yet. After all, you didn’t even know if you would be keeping little Ozzy.

That night, you took Ozzy outside to walk around for a little bit, and after he did his business, you went back in to set up his supplies. Luckily, Tony had included puppy food in his doggy care package, and so you served up a bowl of it for Ozzy to chow down on. From there, you put off your homework and played with him, watching his antics with a smile on your face; he really was adorable.

Despite the fact that his bed had probably cost more than yours, Ozzy slept curled up against your side all night, and you had to admit that you slept sounder than usual with him tucked against your hip. And when you woke up to him laying sprawled out against your stomach, you couldn’t hold back the happy grin that had come over your features. Luckily, it was your one day off during the week, and so you were able to sleep in, watching the little puppy slowly wake up.

As he lifted his fluffy white head up and yawned, your eyes caught on the tag hanging from his collar. More specifically, the phone number printed on the back of it. You chewed on your lip, weighing the pros and cons of giving Tony a call, but you reasoned that it was your only day off during the week – if you were going to return all of his pointless gifts, then it would have to be today.

And so, after taking Ozzy outside for a short walk, you took a seat on your bed and pulled him into your lap, dialing the number and waiting with bated breath as the phone rang.

“Good morning, sunshine,” Tony said, having picked up right after the third ring. “How’s our son doing?”

“He’s not…” You huffed, letting yourself fall back against your pillows. “Tony, c’mon. You can’t just get me a dog.”

“Why? You allergic? ‘Cuz Samoyeds are actually hypoall-“

“Tony, you know why! This isn’t a pair of shoes or a purse – which I’m fully planning on giving back to you, by the way. This is a living being! I’m too busy to take care of a dog. And he’s going to grow up to be big; he’ll need more space than I can give him.”

“I know. I’ve thought about all of that,” your soulmate assured you. “And I have a proposition for you.”

“Tony, I’m not going to move in with you-“

“So you’ve said. Look, just… Can I come over? I’d kinda like to be able to see your face again. It’s a nice one.”

“I…”

You groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“You’re the most difficult human being on the planet.”

“Aw, love you too sweetie. I’ll be over in five.”

With that, he hung up, leaving you just barely enough time to get dressed. You threw off your pajamas and pulled on some jeans and a t-shirt before frantically arranging your hair into something mildly presentable. You studied yourself in the mirror even though you told yourself that you didn’t care about what Tony thought about your appearance and straightened up as much as you could, throwing dirty clothes from your floor into your hamper and washing as many dishes as you could before a knock sounded from your door. Your heartrate jumped when you heard the tap-tap-ta-tap-tap, and you hurriedly dried your hands off before walking over to let him in.

Once again, the door jammed as you tried to pull it open, but with a bit of finagling you managed to pry it away from the frame. There Tony stood on its other side, holding a box of donuts and wearing, this time, a burgundy button-up with a black tie.

“I brought breakfast,” he announced. “But you have to let me in to have one.”

You rolled your eyes but, wordlessly, stepped aside, closing the door behind him as he took a seat on your old, threadbare sofa. You crossed your arms as he turned his head, taking in the small studio, his eyes lingering on the chipped paint on the walls and the water stains on the ceiling.

“…Well, this certainly is an apartment,” he deadpanned.

You were about to say something snarky back, but Ozzy chose that moment to jump into Tony’s lap, prompting a wide grin to spread over the man’s face.

“Well hey, there, buddy,” he cooed, scratching behind his ears. “You been wearing her down for me?”

“No,” you answered for the dog, taking a seat on the opposite end of the sofa as your soulmate. “I know I shouldn’t be surprised that you bought me an entire-ass dog, but I am.”

“What can I say? Chicks dig puppies.”

You let out a sigh, shaking your head as you reached for the donuts; you were hungry, after all.

“I can’t keep him, Tony,” you reminded him. “I mean, he’s really sweet, but it just wouldn’t be responsible for me to have a dog right now.”

“Oh, I agree,” he replied, arching his eyebrows. “At least, not when you’re living here. With not one, not two, but three jobs. Fuck, how you’re not exhausted 24/7 is beyond me.”

“I am exhausted, Tony,” you sighed. “All the time. But some people weren’t born rich geniuses.”

“But some people are born as their soulmates,” he pointed out. “And you haven’t heard my latest offer yet.”

“A relationship isn’t a transaction, Tony-“

“I will buy you a house,” he spoke, stopping you dead in your tracks. “One that’s not too far from your campus. And I’ll give you a weekly allowance so you don’t have to work so much; all you’ll have to focus on is your classes, Ozzy here, and yours truly. And before you say anything, I won’t be living with you in this deal. I mean, I’m totally going to buy some property really close to you so I don’t have to fly up from Florida a couple times each week, but you’ll have your own space.”

You gulped, turning his words over in your mind; if this were anyone else, you’d tell them that they’d have to be a fool not to accept this offer. And Tony had clearly thought a lot about this a lot.

“Oh, I do have some conditions, though,” he added, as if it were an afterthought.

“…Ok. What are they?” you asked warily.

“I wanna see you at least two times during the week,” he started. “And I want to be able to spend at least one day out of the weekend with you – Saturday or Sunday, take your pick. And one other thing.”

At that, he leaned forward, scooting closer to you on the couch, and you noticed that his face had gone stone-cold. There was no joking whatsoever in his eyes, and there was no hint of a smile on his features. Your own eyes widened; you’d never seen him look like this, not even during his famous ‘I am Iron Man’ press conference.

“I want you to give me an honest chance,” he said solemnly. “I know I’ve done some stupid shit in the past, but I meant it when I said that you don’t know me. Not yet, at least. So no more of this ‘arrogant billionaire’ bullshit – I’m asking for a clean slate in return for a full-ride through the rest of your college career. And a shot to make it work with the person you’re destined to be with.”

You bit your lip, looking away as you processed everything that he’d said. If you said no, you knew, without a doubt, that you’d spend the rest of your life wondering what would have happened if you’d said yes. You would still have your pride, sure, but you would also have a student debt that you’d never even be able to dream about paying off. And the sentimental, optimistic side of you whispered that you would lose your chance of getting to know the person behind the mask Tony wore, the person who shared a destiny with you.

“…Deal.”

Relief settled over Tony’s features, and he closed his eyes as his wide, joyful grin returned to his face.

“…Thank you,” he murmured, almost under his breath. When he finally did look back up at you, he leaned forward, his hand planted on the sofa cushion beneath him.

“Would a celebratory kiss be too much to ask for?”

“Yes, Tony,” you chuckled in spite of yourself. “Yes, it would be.”

“Damn.”

__________________

Moving day came only a week later. Tony had emailed you several listings that were within five minutes of Harvard’s campus, and you’d at first balked upon seeing that not one of them was below one million dollars. You couldn’t say that you were surprised; the location alone was enough to drive any property’s worth up by a considerable amount. But you’d still felt guilty as you looked them over.

“Are you sure this isn’t too much?” you’d asked him over the phone.

“Hon. I could buy all of the homes on this list and still have enough money to live comfortably for over a century. Pick whatever you want.”

You’d eventually picked one of the more modest listings, comforting yourself by forcing Tony to take back the shoes and purse he’d bought for you. From there, you’d packed up all of your belongings and posted your furniture to Craigslist; your over-zealous soulmate had already hired an interior designer for your new townhome before you’d been able to warn him not to do such a ridiculous thing.

And now, the day had finally come to move your little life from your ratty studio apartment to a three-story brownstone on the other side of campus. Truth be told, everything was moving so fast that the week had gone by in a blur. Tony had left you alone for the most part, busying himself with getting your house ready for you, and you’d put in and worked your one-week notice at your three jobs. Anna had known right off the bat that your quitting had something to do with the mystery man who’d bought you the shoes she so coveted, but she surprised you by not saying anything about it, merely telling you on your last day that she wished you luck and happiness.

Now, you were dressed in an old pair of overalls and a Rolling Stones t-shirt you’d stolen from your dad as a child, and your hair was pulled back as you lifted your boxes into the moving truck Tony had hired. He’d had a meeting that morning in New York, but he’d assured you that he’d be able to make it back in time to help you with moving them into the new place.

You’d assured him it was alright, but he’d still insisted on hiring movers. After about two minutes of watching the men carry your boxes down the stairs and into the moving van, though, you’d insisted on helping them with the work. And now, here you were, shoving your last box of books into your van as Ozzy barked from the front seat. You’d asked the movers to crack the window and blast the A/C for him, but he was still anxious from being away from your direct line of sight.

“Alright, I think that’s it,” one of the movers said. “You all set to head out, young lady?”

“Just a second! I need to leave my key under the mat for my landlord.”

“Okey doke. Well come on down to the truck when you’re ready to. We’ll keep it running for you.”

“Thanks so much!”

After dashing upstairs and leaving your key, you turned to walk back out of the old apartment building. But you paused for a moment, turning back and taking one last look at the space. So much had changed in such a short time, and you couldn’t quite believe you were leaving this behind. But despite where you were going, despite how uncertain you were of the future, you knew that you would always be proud of the person you’d worked to become while living in your tiny, broken down apartment.

Taking a deep breath, you turned around and walked out to join the movers, and you offered them small smiles as you climbed into the backseat of their truck.

From there, it was only a twenty minute drive to the other side of campus, and you watched as the buildings along the way started becoming nicer and nicer, dissolving from worm apartment buildings popular with the students to sophisticated brownstones favored by the wealthiest of the university’s professors. You couldn’t believe that you were going to be living among them, in a house with three floors and a small, fenced-off backyard.

A suspicious voice whispered to you in your head, saying that it felt too good to be true because it was, but you pushed it aside. Today, you were solely focused on the move, and you’d be damned if you let your anxiety ruin your day.

Part of your optimism faded, though, when you saw a sleek sports car parked in front of your building, with none other than your soulmate leaning against its hood, a pair of gaudy sunglasses perched on his nose as he tapped away at his StarkPhone. You fought against the urge to roll your eyes when you saw that he, too, was wearing a Rolling Stones t-shirt under his black blazer, but it was too late to change now; hopefully, your overalls would cover yours up enough for him not to notice.

After the movers parked the van, you picked Ozzy up and exited the vehicle with him tucked under your arm, squirming with excitement as Tony walked over to greet you, a wide grin parting his lips.

“What took ya so long?” he asked, eyes darting up and down your figure in a way that brought heat to your cheeks. “And one of us is gonna have to change.”

Damn.

“Hello, Tony,” you sighed, finally letting Ozzy down while keeping a firm grip on his leash. “How did your meeting go?”

“Boring – painfully so. But the rest of the day looks promising.”

“What do-“

“Holy cow, is that Iron Man?”

You were interrupted when one of the movers approached you, jaw slack in disbelief as he looked between you and your soulmate. You watched as Tony’s smile dropped into something plastic and practiced, indulging the mover by striking up a conversation with him as you turned to unlock your new home’s front door. The other mover, bless him, seemed unaffected by the superhero’s presence, and so the two of you began unloading boxes as Tony took a selfie with his enthralled fan.

“Woah, hey,” he suddenly interjected, gesturing for you to put down the boxes in your arms. “These guys got that covered; I thought we could go get lunch while they finish up.”

At that, both of the movers started working in earnest, and you glanced between them and Tony, arms still full.

“I mean… I feel bad just leaving it for them,” you reasoned. “And there really isn’t a lot to move – shouldn’t take more than ten minutes. You can wait for me inside, if you want to.”

A bemused huff escaped the billionaire, and he quirked an eyebrow at you before starting to shrug out of his jacket. You watched as he threw it onto the hood of his car before brusquely taking the boxes from your hands and starting to carry them inside.

“You know, I did hire them to do this so we wouldn’t have to,” he grumbled, but there was a fond gleam in his eyes as he glanced over his shoulder at you on the way in.

Pleasantly surprised, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself as you grabbed the next box from the van, making sure to put Ozzy in the downstairs bathroom so he couldn’t escape through the open door. With the four of you working together, it only ended up taking five minutes to complete the move; you really hadn’t owned a lot of things, a fact that Tony was clearly unsettled by.

“So, is that it?” he asked once you were done, a light sheen of sweat breaking out on his brow. “All of your things? Clothes? Kitchen stuff? Books?”

“That’s it,” you confirmed, turning towards the movers as they started towards the cab of their truck. “Thank you guys, by the way. I appreciate the help.”

“No problem, miss,” the one who wasn’t Tony’s fan assured you. He, on the other hand, had been making moon-eyes at your soulmate the entire time, and if you’d been more invested in your relationship with him, you might have even felt jealous.

“Oh, before I forget,” Tony suddenly startled, reaching into his back pocket. He pulled out a black leather wallet and fished out a few hundred dollar bills, causing your eyes to widen as he handed it to his still-enraptured fan. “Divvy this up between the two of you; thanks for helping my soulmate out.”

Now, their eyes widened, and even the more chill of the two men stared between you and Tony. You felt as if your cheeks were going to catch on fire as he smugly smiled and turned towards you, placing a hand on your lower back and spinning you around to steer you towards the house.

“Now, about lunch…”

___________________

The two of you ended up going to a boujee outdoor bistro for lunch, located smack dab in the center of the nearby shopping district of town, and you were already deeply regretting your decision not to change into something other than your paint-stained overalls. The menu didn’t even have prices listed, for crying out loud, and there were things like ‘herbed Israeli couscous with preserved lemon’ and ‘brunch galette with spring greens, herbs, and feta’ on it. You couldn’t even pronounce some of the items, but Tony looked right at home as he ordered a bottle of champagne for the two of you.

“Starting to drink early?” you asked, arching an eyebrow, but he’d just grinned and shrugged.

“Champagne hardly counts as drinking,” he defended himself smoothly.

As the two of you waited for your drinks, you fell into a silence that was, at least for you, supremely awkward. To distract yourself from it, you stared down at Ozzy, who was curled up at your feet with his leash looped securely around the armrest of your chair. The bistro apparently not only allowed dogs, but actively encouraged them, if the bowl of whipped cream your waiter had brought out for him earlier was any indication.

“So… How’d you like your new digs?” the man across from you suddenly asked, and you turned to find his eyes locked onto your face, his chin resting atop his fist as he rested his elbow on the table.

“It’s…nice. Still entirely too expensive,” you added, at which he playfully rolled his eyes, “but it’s nice. …Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” he immediately fired back. “It was part of our deal; I’m getting something out of this, too.”

You glanced up as the waiter suddenly appeared to pour the two of you champagne, and despite your initial protests, you found yourself gulping down half of your glass as soon as it was filled. When he asked for your orders, you just blandly stated that you’d have whatever Tony was having, but your soulmate seemed immensely pleased with your words before launching into his order.

Once the waiter had retreated to the kitchen, he turned back to you, tilting his head slightly as he took in your features.

“Has your opinion about me changed at all?”

You were momentarily taken aback by such a sudden question.

“…Tony, it’s going to take more than just gifts to get me to like you the way you want me to.”

“Oh, I figured. You wouldn’t be the one for me if they were. But what will?”

You bit your lip, tracing the lip of your champagne flute with the tip of your finger.

“…You said that there’s a side of you that you don’t let people see,” you started. “Tell me about it.”

The man smiled, mischief gleaming in his eyes.

“Only if you show me yours, too.”

You nodded, and he leaned back in his chair, snatching up his flute and taking a quick sip of the bubbly booze.

“What do you wanna know about the ‘real’ me?”

“Whatever you think is important.”

He paused, considering that as his eyes flickered between you and the puppy at your feet.

“…You make me incredibly nervous,” he started, taking you off guard. “I’m used to people pandering to me at least on some level, either because of my money or fame or their sense of ‘gratitude’ for me, you know, saving the world on a few occasions. But not you. And I like that about you, I do. I hardly know you, and I already love your sass. But I’m not used to it in the slightest.”

Unexpected warmed bloomed in your chest, and your lips twitched up into a smile to match his as he carried on.

“I got you the gifts because that’s what I’ve always done in relationships in the past, but I was secretly glad when you gave back the shoes and the purse. …Not enough to stop buying you things, obviously, but most girls I’ve met took the presents even if they insisted they weren’t in it for the money.”

“So you have tried to date other girls?” you asked, not feeling surprised or offended that he’d date people that hadn’t shared a matching soulmark with him.

“Jealous?” A mischievous glint sparkled in his eyes, but you only raised your eyebrow at him, prompting his smile to fall by a few centimeters.

“I wouldn’t call it dating,” he eventually sighed. “But it’s been, uh…lonely. I would swear off relationships for a year or two at a time, saying I was gonna just buckle down and wait for you, but then I would meet someone and feel that spark and think, what the hell? Might as well.

“But they, predictably, never worked out, and then I was back to waiting. And the cycle would repeat itself.”

You felt a pang of sympathy for him, seeing the earnestness of his words in the set of his shoulders and the depths of his eyes.

“…I have to admit,” you murmured, “I’ve never pictured you feeling lonely before. The possibility hadn’t even come to my mind.”

He shrugged, trying to make light of something you knew weighed on him.

“Well. Now I have you to bother, so I don’t expect to feel that way much longer.”

For the rest of your lunch date, the two of you made easy conversation – easier than expected. All of Tony’s comments were laced with carefully constructed humor, but you quickly realized that it was just a coping mechanism, a way of protecting himself from sounding too vulnerable when discussing matters that hit a little too close to home.

During that first deep conversation, you found out that, though his relationship with them hadn’t been perfect, Tony still missed his parents deeply, and that a lot of his actions stemmed from a place of wanting to make them proud, even in death. He was also a genius, but while he was very much aware of that fact, he didn’t flaunt his knowledge nearly as much as you thought he would.

He briefly touched on the Avengers, but it was still too soon after Captain Rogers’ defection for the subject to not be painful for him, so you steered the conversation back towards lighter matters, noting the grateful look on his face after you did so.

In return, he asked you question after question about your life, proving to be a better listener than expected. He soaked up everything you had to say, learning about your family, your hobbies, your preferences. As it turned out, both of you enjoyed art, and while you didn’t consider yourself a gifted artist by any means, you enjoyed listening to his opinions about different genres and classical painters.

By the time your food arrived, you were so in deep with your conversation that the waiter startled you as he arrived with two artfully arranged plates.

“Here you are,” he gushed, his voice filled to the brim with pride as he served your famous counterpart. “Creamy oven risotto with crispy roasted mushrooms and lemon-pepper chicken.”

After placing the food in front of you both, you noticed a small bowl tucked into the crook of his elbow, and you smiled as he knelt down in front of Ozzy, presenting him with it as if he were a patron at the table.

“And some frozen strawberry yoghurt for this little one,” he cooed, giving the pup a pet behind the ears before straightening up. “Can I get anything else for you three?”

“No, thank you,” you assured him, picking up your fork.

The food, predictably, was delicious, and both you and Tony were quiet as you dug into it with relish. Ozzy, too, gorged on his food, getting pink yoghurt all over his face as he dived headfirst into his bowl. The two of you laughed at his antics, and by the time you were finished with lunch, you realized that you felt…content.

Tony really was different than what you were expecting. He was still slightly full of himself, aware of his own accomplishments to a fault, but he was also considerate of yours. You’d always pictured him as the type to talk over others while flaunting his superior intellect, but he was more down-to-earth than you’d ever hoped he’d be. After the two of you finished and the check was paid (all of your offers to help cover it had been met with eye rolls and pseudo-glares), you didn’t even hesitate to take him up on his offer to stroll through a nearby park before heading home and starting to unpack.

The weather was bright and sunny as the two of you watched Ozzy run down the sidewalk, his tail wagging so fast that it was just a little white blur as he sniffed at everything that crossed his path, and you walked and talked until Tony got a call at 4 o’clock. F.R.I.D.A.Y., his AI that, as he put it, ‘ran his life’, had informed him that it was from someone named Happy, and he’d apologized before stepping to the side to answer it.

As you took a seat on a nearby bench and watched him talk, you felt your own phone start buzzing, and you pulled it out of your pocket to find that it was your mother calling.

“Hi, Mom,” you said as you accepted the call.

“How did moving go?”

Your mother, when you’d first told her about your deal with your soulmate, had been apprehensive, to say the least. She’d never forgiven Tony for the way he’d unwittingly spoken about her daughter, and she’d made it clear that, while she would support your decisions, she didn’t trust your soulmate as far as she could throw him.

“It went well,” you assured her. “He actually carried boxes.”

“I know,” she sighed, and you could all but picture her rubbing her forehead in exasperation. “There are already pictures of the two of you floating around on the internet.”

You bit your lip, unconsciously darting your eyes around the park if you could see anybody sneaking pictures. It was mostly empty, though, with the only person in your range of vision being Tony, but you were still nervous about what you would see when you searched for yourself on Google later that evening.

“He’s…been really nice,” you admitted lamely. “Today has been really good, so far. He took me and Ozzy out to lunch-“

“I still can’t believe he mailed you a dog.”

“…And now we’re walking around a little park close to campus.”

“Has he said anything rude to you?”

“No, mom. I promise. If he does, I’ll slap him just like you said to.”

“Kick him in the balls for me while you’re at it.”

You huffed out a laugh, perking up when Tony hung up his phone and started making his way over to you.

“I have to go,” you told your mom. “But I’ll call you as soon as I get home.”

“You’d better.”

“I will! Love you.”

You hung up after she echoed your last two words back to you, and you watched as Tony lifted one sculpted eyebrow, glancing pointedly at your phone.

“Should I be jealous of someone?”

“Not unless you see my mom as competition.”

A relieved smile came over his features, and he held out his hand to help you up off of the bench. You didn’t comment when he kept it in his as he walked you back towards the entrance of the park, but you did let go when a couple of joggers did a double take while passing you on the trail. For a second, you thought you saw disappointment flash over his features, but he made no comment as the two of you made your way back to his car.

“So, what did your mom have to say?” he asked, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“…Well, she started by asking how moving went,” you began, wondering if you should tell him about her distrust. “I told her you were very helpful.”

The corner of his lips quirked up at that, and he shot you a glance from the corner of his eyes.

“She’s not a fan of me, huh?”

You were puzzled by his deduction, and it must have shown on your face.

“I figured. I wouldn’t be a fan of me, either, if I were in her shoes.”

“I find it hard to think of you as being anything but a fan of yourself.”

A hiss of laughter escaped from behind his teeth, but his expression was surprisingly devoid of a smile.

“Your soulmate ended up being a self-righteous playboy who’s nearly 20 years your senior,” he deadpanned. “Not really the type of person you bring home for Thanksgiving.”

“…If it makes you feel any better, I’m probably going to end up hosting my family’s Thanksgiving this year. And I’ll invite you.”

At that, he did smile, and a part of you was relieved to see it.

“It does, actually. Thanks.”

The rest of your walk was done in silence, with both of you watching as Ozzy became less excited and more sleepy with every step. At his first yawn, you bent down and scooped him up into your arms, and by the time you’d arrived back to Tony’s Lamborghini, he was fast asleep with his nose tucked against your chest. The sight was enough to make your heart melt, and you jolted when your soulmate reached over to rub his upturned belly, his fingers just barely grazing against your breast as he did so. Even though you knew it was unintentional, your cheeks were once again enflamed as he opened your car door for you.

The two of you only spoke next when you were stood on your doorstep, whereupon Tony hesitated as he stared up at you from his place at the bottom of your steps. Neither of you knew how to say goodbye, and neither of you knew whether or not you should address the instant connection you’d made over lunch. You didn’t regret giving him a chance, and while you were still apprehensive of the man you’d been avoiding for the past several years of your life, you couldn’t help but wonder, almost hopefully, if he’d kiss you goodbye.

“…I had a good time today,” you started, clutching your puppy even closer. “Thank you for lunch. And, um…the house.”

The both of you chuckled at that, and Tony kicked his heel, digging it into the concrete beneath him with something resembling bashfulness; the sight was endearing, as was his honest smile.

“Thanks for giving me a chance,” he replied. “It’s…probably more than I deserve.”

Your heart squeezed at that, and after a moment of deliberation, he determinedly rose up onto the second step of your small porch and leaned closer, pressing a chaste kiss to your cheek. It was over in a moment, barely as long as a heartbeat, but his lips were soft and warm against your flesh, and you’d been able to smell his warm, spicy aftershave as he leaned close.

“Call me,” was all he said before turning around and climbing into his car, leaving you with a fluttering heart as you walked into your house and closed the door behind you.

Something had blossomed somewhere behind your ribcage, and it took you a second to identify it as your thoughts swam and spun around Tony. It was hope, you realized, and a small smile spread over your lips.

It was hope, and it was beautiful.

[sumire-bride]

Sumire and shuus route (demo) maniac 9

Scene is living room

Sumire- ..haah… (..Shuu-sama told me I was suspended… I was not sure what that meant until.. reiji-sama woke us up…)

(..and well… he was not happy… at all…)

*FLASHBACK*

Flashback is in living room

Reiji- …

Sumire- …

(..there is such a dark aura coming from reiji-sama…. Ahh…)

Reiji- I have no words.. I.. I honestly can’t believe you did such a thing.. I already deal with laito and subarus suspensions and make sure they don’t get expelled which already puts me in a situation and now this!

Good grief do you have any idea how you could have messed up the sakamaki name if I didn’t make your suspension a little shorter, you should be happy that your suspended for a month and not longer,what do you have to say for yourself?!

Sumire- …. Forgive me… I did not realize what I was doing.. until after I had did it…. I am very sorry… I did not mean to cause such.. trouble for you…

Reiji- how do you expect to make this up for yourself ah!? I can’t even think of a proper punishment at this very moment

Laito- ufu, give our bitch-chan a break, we should be happy if I’m being honest. It’s the first time she has ever gotten angry! Shuu was there

Ne ne tell us Shuu, what did she look like? I can’t help but imagine what she must of looked like, her eyes full of rage, did she yell? Ahh… Just the thought of it turns me on~. An angry bitch-chan.. ne bitch-chan show me that face you had yesterday

Subaru- tch.. fuckin perv..

Ayato- little watermelon got suspended, still can’t believe it,

Kanato- if you need a punishment for her then.. I can help with that. Ne teddy what should we do to torture her hm..? Should we rip her pretty eyes out and use them..? Or should we cut off her long legs and use them for one of our.. other projects, or or should we-!

Reiji- silence!

Haah.. this women is such a headache.. well no matter I’ll come up with one when we come back

Everyone get in the car we’ll be late

Sumire- …uh… I did not put my uniform on…

Reiji- what are you talking about? Your suspended..- don’t tell me you don’t know what that is, I shouldn’t be surprised.. suspension means someone stopping someone from doing or going a place or thing

So your not going to school, for a month,

Sumire- …so.. I can not go to school…? I see…

Reiji- seems like you understand, well your not going so when we’re gone.. don’t burn the house down, I’m being serious don’t.burn.the.house.down. Unless you require a bigger punishment then your already getting

Laito- bye bitch-chan! Don’t cause to much trouble while we’re gone Kay~!

*FLASHBACK ENDS*

Sumire- … (..and that is how i got here… I’m not sure what to do… mm… I guess I can go to the music room… piano seems to calm me down…) well I should get going then….

*scene is in the mansions music room*

Sumire- … (…this piano is really pretty… haha… what am I saying… I think all pianos look the same from what I’ve seen…. I am starting to think that the word “idiot” is not a compliment… does this mean I am a idiot…?)

(..the things I do are stupid aren’t they…? I.. I do not understand anything….)

Shuu- oi..

Sumire- ..!!!…

Shuu- you don’t need to jump.. it’s only me geez..

Sumire- ..Shuu-sama….! You are not in school… did you get this thing suspended as well…?

Shuu- why does it matter if I did or not, it’s not like you should care

Besides that.. what are you doing..?

Sumire- ..I am on the piano… is that not obvious….? Ah..! Is Shuu-sama going blind…!

Shuu- okay I get it.. geez.. what I meant was why are you up here, you don’t seem like the type who would be going to random places without a reason to

Sumire- ..Did I need a reason to come here…? I merely came here because I like the sound of piano… I was not sure if I was even going to play anything… I have.. just been in some stress… and piano is soothing to me…

..I knew how to play ever since I was.. a child… my older brother taught me how… he used to play when he came to visit me and father…. I remember the first song he taught me…. He told me when we first sang together that.. I had the voice of a angel… or something else that was better.. he said the same thing about my looks… He said that was only befitting of the only daughter of the kanashi family to be… beautiful…. And have everything that came with it….

..I love the piano and music…. There such amazing things… and the memories of him and my other brothers.. is something I will cherish till the day I die… they’d want me to.. right…?

Shuu- you know how to play this old thing..? Wow Rapunzel actually has something she can do besides reading and acting like a idiot.. what a surprise..

Well, play me something then.. I wanna nap

Sumire- ..huh… you want to hear me.. play…? That is quite funny… haha…

Shuu- why is that funny..?

Sumire- Shuu-sama has never seemed interested in.. any of the things I do… so I find it funny when you do… but I also find it quite nice… I like when Shuu-sama shows interest in my talents….

Shuu- tch.. whatever, I guess I’ll nap listening with my headphones then..

Sumire- ..eh.. if that is what Shuu-sama wants to listen to then I am perfectly fine with it….. (..Shuu-sama also makes me feel happy… I like that he is here… fufu..)

..I am going to read okay…?

Shuu- do what you want.. I doesn’t bother me as long as your quite..

Sumire- ….

*TIMESKIP*

Sumire- …ah.. (..this is sad… poor boy… his love is dying… how sad… but I can not cry about.. such things…. Mother and father will get mad at me….) hmm…. (Maybe I should.. stop reading for now…. So I don’t cry)

..(..Shuu-sama is still napping on my shoulder…. Maybe I should take a nap as well… but I’ve slept quite a bit… I wonder if that is a good thing…. Normally I would myself up by reading before…)

*sumire puts her head on his shoulder*

Sumire- … (..when I look at Shuu-sama… there is a lot I like about him… including his looks… his pale and bright hair colour reminds me of those.. really pretty guys in books…it’s.. it’s nice… a lot of the time when I look at him… he makes me feel dizzy… but in a good way…?)

(..oh goodness this is confusing me… haha… I’m quite confused at my feelings towards you Shuu-sama… I love him but… what type of love is this…? It is a lot different then how I felt about my big brothers and parents… and the servants…. I’m quite confused… ne Shuu-sama please tell me…)

Shuu- oi.. your getting tears on my shoulder

Sumire- ..what are tears…? Uh..

*drip drip*

Sumire- …?.. what is this… I don’t not quite understand….

Shuu- is that not obvious..? Your crying, and you got your tears on my shoulder

Sumire- ..I am crying…! Oh no… I can cry….! Mother will be upset at me… I can’t have that… go away tears…!

Shuu- why tell them to go away.. I honestly don’t dislike you crying.. this is actually the first time I have seen you shed tears.. though I’d wish you’d actually have a frightened look as well, but I guess I can make that happen on my own

Hey.. shed more tears for me

*rustle rustle*

Sumire- …uh… if you are going to suck my blood then.. please wait an till I have stopped these awful tears coming… from my face…

Shuu- don’t wanna.. I prefer it better to suck you blood when your full of them, so go on cry more for me.. not like anyone’s gonna hear right..? I mean it’s just the two of us in this one room,

Or were you expecting something a little more dirty..? Lewd girl

Sumire- ..Why would I want the two of us to get dirty…. It would be troublesome to clean ourselves up… and I don’t quite like dirt in my hands to much…

Shuu- you really are I naïve girl, again I don’t dislike toying with girls like that either

*shuu bites sumire*

Sumire- …ah…! Shuu-sama… I.. (..and there goes my voice…. I.. I don’t want to move…. I can’t move… does.. does this make him.. happy…?)

Shuu- nn… haah.. haha.. look at that I finally got a look out of you.. after multiple tries it happened.. go on make that face more, cry more.. I want to see it..

Sumire- … (..It… it does make him happy… if this is what he wants then I am… willing to…) uh… ah…!

Shuu- I’ve wondered for a while if these we’re either tights or stockings… hmm.. so they are stockings.. they look nice on your legs..

*shuu rips the left sock*

Sumire- …Shuu-sama…! Don’t rip those…! Oh goodness I will need to see those back together….-

*shuu bites sumires thigh*

Sumire- ..argh….!! (…that hurts… a lot…!! But.. but I can not cry about it…)

Shuu- Nn.. hnn… a lot of blood comes from here.. hey you should be happy I gave you a compliment..

You know.. you should wear something else other then his baggy dress, I’ve just found out that you have nice legs.. surprisingly you actually have nice features besides that face of yours.. speaking of which.. there’s another thing I’ve wondered..

Sumire- …?..

Shuu- as of recently I’ve wondered what you’d look like if you didn’t have this annoying dress on. So let me take it off

Sumire- …huh.. what… you want.. no.. no in all ways….! I will let shuu-sama bite me but I will not take my dress of for his… own amusement… my body is for my eyes…

Shuu- heeh.. look at that.. you made another face.. your blushing

Sumire- …I am not doing such a thing…. Oh goodness…

Shuu- so would you rather my brothers see you like that..? See you in all your own little forms..? Or would you rather me see it instead..?

Sumire- ..uh… (..shuu-sama says weird things… I am not quite sure how to answer that… but..) …if I am being completely honest… I don’t want anyone to see me in this state… if my family say me like this now… I’d get in trouble…. But.. (..I am fully aware of what he is implying… I am not that dense)

..I would rather shuu-sama look at me in this state then anyone else… because he is the only one I feel safe around to show him these… scary feelings and expressions with…. so.. if it makes Shuu-sama happy than I am willing to sacrifice what I have stuck to in my life…

Shuu- I’m getting a lot of the things I want today.. strange isn’t it.. whatever.. scream.. shout.. use this opportunity to actually be loud around me.. okay..? Don’t waste it..

Sumire- ..mhm… (..I understand what I am doing is considered wrong in the eyes of father.. but… he is not here right now… so… I am fine… and I am making Shuu-sama happy… so everything is fine because he’s here….)

Monologue

This man and mines body fell close together.. it was almost like we were melting together like candle wax..

I gave up everything I once knew in this moment.. but I feel like everything will be the same by tomorrow.. I’m terrified that it will be the same.. I want things to stay like this for just a moment longer…

This is so different then what I’m used to feeling.. and I don’t understand it.. even after I still didn’t.. I wonder.. what is this..

It’s different from what me and you had.. this “prince” is different from you.. but how..?

It’s the first time I’ve done anything that wasn’t to make you all happy but to make someone else happy.. the first time I asked someone else a question

So tell me.. is this what you’d call “love”..? Is this the same type of love we had..?

Father..

—to be continued—

Maniac 8 — maniac 10

[ask-whitepearl-and-steven]

I have a question, and I am quite genuinely not trying to start an argument here. It seems you always immediately jump to being incredibly confrontational and angry about things. You often have the route of a calmer reaction available to you but you opt to rage post. You come off as an incredibly unreasonable, unapproachable, and rude person. Why do you do this? Is there a benefit? Does it actually achieve expected behavior from others? Does it make you feel better? Do you want to seem this way?

I’m ...not trying to start an argument either, but while we’re being honest, this comes off as extremely patronizing. 

But I digress, and assume you legitimately mean nothing by it.

Look, I’m aware that I often end up making angry ‘don’t do this’ posts. And if I mention a behavior that you, anon, personally think harmless, that might seem very confrontational to you.

Here’s where my word parsing comes in:

I personally disagree that my posts are ‘rage posts’. I don’t directly swear at anyone, I don’t say ‘this person did ___ and therefore is garbage’. I’m extremely against any sort of crowd-piling and hunt-down posts. What I AM doing is posting on my own blog - about things that bother me.

Now.... ironically enough.... this may be a cultural difference! I’m Russian. In my natural state, I am a lot less polite with my wording. I have consciously stepped away from that when I talk directly TO people face to face (and in fact since moving to Japan I’ve adjusted my manner accordingly because if I didn’t, I would be IMPOSSIBLE to work with in my Japanese workplace.) 

Here’s the zoom-out, birds-eye view of this whole situation:

You have no idea how many people I deal with daily, and how many things I ignore, quite calmly, when you guys aren’t looking or are unaware of it. I get asks all the time that I could also snap at, but a lot of times I just roll my eyes and delete them and say nothing about it. 

Now, as for the asks/posts I DO make public...

Yes, in fact there is. 

The people that might otherwise never examine their behavior (such as calling strangers online ‘bitch’, as in, sending a random message to a stranger on the internet ‘You bitch give us the next damn page of the comic already.’ or referring to someone as ‘sweetheart’ when no prior relationship has been established) may actually stop, think, and realize ‘oh, are people actually... not... comfortable with that? I thought that was normal, but someone is saying otherwise. Huh.’

Not only this - ESPECIALLY in an anon situation, there is NO way to reply privately and tell the person ‘hey, I’m uh. Not okay with this.’ 

You may as well let them AND everyone within hearing range know - ‘this ain’t okay. You need to realize the effect you have on others.’ 

And sure, some people see ONLY this and think “oh buh, That Guy is angry again. It’s annoying to see this.” 

But I also guarantee you that maybe a few people are finally, FOR THE FIRST TIME EVER, considering how something they are doing is not the baseline behavior, and might get different reactions from different people. 

I’ve grown up with LOTS of kids who have done lots of REALLY FUCKIN RUDE THINGS because that’s how they were raised, and when they went out into the world, they just... got away with it. Because no one said anything, because it would be ‘impolite’. 

(When I was a teen, another teen had the habit of punching people and being very physical to the point of hurting them and everyone just kind of smiled awkwardly and let it happen. 

Until finally one other kid had enough and snapped at them to stop doing it. Finally, finally, that Punching-Teen had the mind-shattering revelation that in fact, no, the others were NOT finding this entertaining. Arguably this was the equivalent of a ‘rage post’. Was pleasant and calm? No. Was it, arguably, justified? I’d say yeah, if you’re getting treated in a way you don’t like, you are allowed to have feelings about it!)

I’m not super nice. I’m actually... shockingly... not invested in coming off as a 100% nice person. That’s not really... my gig. I’m here to draw comics, I’m not a public figure or a celebrity. Also, I don’t come into random people’s inboxes and rant at THEM. People usually contact me first and I am given the task of replying. 

All I ask when you come into my inbox is that you take a minimum consideration of how you address what is, essentially, a stranger on the street corner. OR better yet - since I’m drawing a comic - a merchant at a Convention. If you would not go up to a random fanartist selling merch and start the conversation with “sweetheart, when’s the next comic?” then... why would you do it online? (Which, I understand, some people really DO do that irl. Which again - cultural differences, I understand. There’s room for both of us to fumble that social interaction and no one would necessarily be at fault.)

I am fully eager to connect and be kind - if you are, IN TURN, willing to talk to me with anon off. If I’ve hurt your feelings somehow...  by all means, TALK TO ME. Not like this, lobbing things like 

to make me feel like I’m throwing a tantrum when I am, in fact, just reaffirming a few standard social boundaries - but with anon OFF and discussing things like a human being. 

You ARE right about one thing. I should take it upon myself to change what I am doing, as promised. 

I’ve tried before to avoid replying to personal asks to keep the number of consequent angry-replies low. But I didn’t turn off anon. That’s on me.

Anon’s gonna be off now and honestly, I’m gonna try one more time to stop talking about anything non comic-related. No one needs to deal with me and my ‘rage posts’. 

Again, if you have an issue with me resembling an angry teen, feel free to. I dunno. Talk to me? Like a person. 

[imagine-the-fanfics]

Honesty

Characters: Goro Majima x Reader X Daigo Dojima

Warnings: Cheating, dubious consent (drunk), fighting (couple), mentions of sex (no smut), strong language, toxic relationship

Inspiration: “Honest” by The Chainsmokers; “2” by H.E.R.; “Story to Tell Your Friends” by Every Avenue

A/n: I don’t have anything to say that hasn’t been said already.

You slid out of bed, taking a moment to look over your shoulder at the naked man sleeping next to you. As wrong as it was, your thoughts were with someone else. It hurt knowing he wasn’t with you tonight, and it was likely he was in someone else’s bed, too. You almost couldn’t help but laugh at the fucked-up mess your once sweet relationship had grown into. Neither of you knew where the other was, and you weren’t sure either of you really cared anymore.

Your steps were soft as you walked around the hardwood-floored room, gathering your clothing and dressing as quietly as possible. Memories of screaming Daigo’s name echoed through your mind. The arrangement between you and the sleeping man was one neatly arranged. You’d have sex, hang out till he slept, and then leave. In return, he took you to nice restaurants and on nice dates, buying you everything you could possibly want, and gifting more money to you than you could ever spend. Majima still paid your bills, otherwise this man likely would do that, too. It was an arrangement that suited everyone else just fine, even though everyone complained about it.

You took your phone off the dresser near the bedroom’s door, checking it for any messages from your boyfriend, but there was none. Of course there wasn’t. Why would you think anything else? You hadn’t heard from him in over two weeks, why would that change? Goro had told you to call off your relationship with Daigo long ago, but you never did. How many times had Goro cheated on you before you got with Daigo? And how many times had he cheated after telling you to call it off? Too many, on both accounts.

Okay, so maybe having your boyfriend’s boss as your Sugar Daddy wasn’t the best idea, but you didn’t care at this point. There were so many times that you had thought about just breaking up with Majima for Dojima, but you knew better than to think you and Majima would ever let the other go. This was too toxic a relationship for that. You knew he’d kill anyone you tried to be with after him, even his boss, and you knew that you would be crawling after him, begging him to take you back if he ever left you. You knew this because both had already happened. Multiple times.

You ran your fingers through your hair in an effort to get your post-sex bedhead under control. It was, naturally, a futile effort, but still an effort worth making as you prepared to leave your Sugar Daddy’s secret apartment. It didn’t take long to have everything packed up into your purse before leaving, quietly closing the door behind you and locking it with your key. In the hall you started humming to yourself, checking your phone again.

Why you kept checking it was beyond you, but you still did. You guess part of you just wanted him to miss you. To want you. To do something. He wouldn’t. You knew he wouldn’t because he never did.

You hailed a cab, hopping in and returning home.

 ~~~ 

Majima sat in the back of a private car, playing on his phone while some drunk hostesses sat on either side of him. He looked up at the clock and sighed. It was 5 am and all he wanted was to go home. All he wanted was to hold you. The thought to text you and ask you to come home was one not easily dismissed. “Majima~” one of the girls called, grabbing his arm and pouting. “Why are you on your phone? Pay attention to us~”

“Whatever ya want, ladies,” Majima said as he smiled, sliding the phone back in his pocket and resting his arms on the back of the seats. The girls leaned into him, giggling as they traced their fingers over his tattoos like you had when things were still good. Those times were some that he longed to return to, but that was no longer an option. The two of you had made your bed, and the two of you had to lie in it.

The girls kissed him wherever they could. One focused on his neck, the other turned his head towards her and kissed his lips, her hand reaching over to get tangled up in his hair. She was giggling into the kiss, drunk as shit. He was drunk, too, so he didn’t care. All he wanted to do right now was forget about you. If these two women wanted to give it a shot, he wouldn’t stop them.

The driver left them outside of a love hotel, leaving to find a place to park as the trio stumbled inside.

 ~~~ 

When you arrived home, you came home to Majima sitting at the dinner table of your small apartment, taking a drag off of a cigarette. Why he was there was beyond you, but you reminded yourself to get his key before you broke up with him. If you ever broke up with him. It wasn’t likely, but still something you hoped to do someday.

“You’re home awfully late,” Majima acknowledged, sighing but not looking at you.

“I was out with a friend, sorry. I didn’t think you were coming over. You haven’t talked to me in weeks, so…”

“Don’t gimme that shit, Y/n.” Another drag. “You with Daigo again?”

“You told me to call it off, so I did. I haven’t seen Daigo since we called it off.” It was a statement you both knew was a lie. You didn’t really have friends, at least none that you would be out until 8 am with.

“Why d’ya always insist on lyin’ to me?” Majima’s face and tone were deadpan. “Ya know how much it hurts me, Y/n.”

“Does it?” You were growing frustrated. “Does it hurt you to stick your dick in every pussy in town? Does it hurt you to disappear for weeks at a time? Does it—”

“If you don’ shut the FUCK up…” Majima’s voice trailed off as he took a drag from his cigarette, exhaling as he spoke, “The people that make accusations like that are cheatin’ shits.”

“You would know, wouldn’t you?” You hissed. “I can’t deal with this, get out of my apartment.”

Majima calmly put his cigarette, turning to look at you. “Why would I do that, Darlin’? I’ve missed ya. No one makes ya scream like I do. No one screams my name like you. Baby girl, don’t make me spell it out for ya,” he sighed standing up and walking over. “C’mere,” he stuck his arms out to hug you, stopping as he caught your scent. “You reek of sex.” The coldness in his voice sent a chill down your spine. “Fuckin’ LIAR!” He shouted, turning away from you, kicking the chair so hard that it groaned against the floor as it slid, nearly falling over before it hit the table leg with loud thud.

“Look who’s fucking talking!” You called back, hands raised in frustration. “Why are we even doing this anymore when we both clearly don’t want this toxic ass relationship?! Let’s just end it and be free of each other! There’s no reason we have to live like this!”

“I LOVE YOU!” Majima screamed, followed by a, “FUCK!” He kicked the table, knocking the ashtray onto the floor, ash spreading everywhere. Thankfully, the ashtray was a sturdy plastic, so it didn’t break.

“REALLY?!” You shouted in response, walking over to him. “YOU CALL THIS LOVE?!”

He put his hand around your throat and kissed you. “I love ya,” Majima muttered, his lips hovering over yours, “but ya have to knock this shit off. All it does is piss me off, and when I’m pissed off, I lash out.” His lips pressed against yours and he pinned you to the wall, still holding your throat.

You hated how much you wanted this, and how easy it was for him to get your body purring for him. The kissing grew more intense, and before you knew it his shirt was off and so was yours. He lifted you up, wrapping your legs around him before carrying you to the bedroom, dropping you on the bed carelessly before undoing his belt.

 ~~~ 

“I have to be honest…” Hesitation. “I can’t do this anymore,” You say quietly as you stare at your breakfast, unable to eat.

“Sure ya can, Darlin’. Ain’t no reason to worry your pretty little head about,” Majima assured.

“I’m not an idiot, Goro.” You looked up to meet his gaze. “We’ve both been cheating. I can’t live like this, constantly wondering why I’m not good enough, finding security and validation in people outside of our relationship while you chase bugs around town. I can’t live with the anxiety anymore…” You paused before continuing, “I’m tired, Goro. Let’s just call it quits and move on, okay?”

“Are you serious?” His voice was soft, fake accent gone, as he looked at you, searching your eyes for any hint that this wasn’t happening.

“I am. I need this to be the last time we call it quits, and for you to not kill the people that I date. A clean break for both of us after years of pain. Can you do that? For me?” You looked back at your breakfast. “We had something so good when this started but look at what it’s turned into. We can’t keep living like this, Goro.”

“You’re right,” he said as his gaze shifted to his own breakfast. “I’m too old to be playing these games, Y/n. We should just… Move on.”

“Exactly. I always wanted a family, Majima. I want to try and find that for myself.” You didn’t mention how you had thought you found that with him before things turned into the poisonous disease your relationship had degraded into. “I want that for you, too. You’ll find someone else, I’m sure.”

“Yeah,” he agreed quietly, standing up. “I… I’m going to leave. No sense in waiting for the inevitable.”

You looked up at him, seeing the vacant expression you’d seen a hundred times when he was lost in his own mind. Your heart broke to see him like this, but you knew this was for the best. You bit your cheek, resisting the urge to stop him. You needed to let him go. You didn’t have the choice if you wanted to start over with someone new. You watched as he worked the key to your apartment off of his keyring.

“I’ll pay your apartment for three more months. After that the lease is up and you can sign a fresh lease. You won’t hear from me anymore, and I hope you won’t contact me either.

Still, it was strange that he was going so quietly. It made you uneasy as you watched him leave, though you were speechless. If you spoke it would only be to beg for forgiveness and start this endless cycle all over again.

He opened the door and looked back at you, nothing but pure sadness in his eye as he watched you. After a moment he closed the door. The second it closed you started to sob. As toxic as the two of you were together, you both truly loved each other deep down. This wasn’t romantic, this was tragic.

Together you were as toxic and violent to each other as Harley and Joker; breaking up was as painful as the ending of Titanic.

 ~~~ 

“Daigo?” You asked quietly, looking at the man lying next to you as you sat on the bed.

“What?” He asked, looking back at you.

“What are we doing?” You looked around the bedroom of the apartment.

“The same thing we’ve been doing for over a year… Why?” He wasn’t sure he liked where this was going, and the look on his made you worried about his reaction.

“I know the arrangement is that we don’t date, but I’ve been thinking…” A deep breath for courage. “Why don’t we date? We’re basically dating already.”

Daigo sat up, leaning over to grab his pack of cigarettes. “Because that’s the stipulation you put on this relationship. Majima and whatever. I like it, to be honest. ”

“It’s been over a month since Maijma and I called it off, and he’s been respecting the deal we made. I know you’ve had me followed,” you studied the pattern of the bedding, running your finger over it as you traced the patterns. He lit the cigarette and took the first draw as you spoke.

“It’s not because I don’t trust you—”

“I wouldn’t be mad at you if you didn’t, given my history with Majima, but I know it’s just for my protection,” you looked at him, seeing his cigarette between his lips as he took a drag. “Still, it proves to you that I’m not fucking around behind your back. I know we’re not in love or anything, and I’m not expecting anything serious. Still, I think we should give it a shot.”

“I don’t know, Y/n. What we have now is transactional. You provide me companionship; I provide money. No feelings; no attachments; no hurt when it’s over.”

“That’s true,” your gaze returned to the bedding and you traced the pattern again. “I think we could be good together. You mentioned that people are pressuring you to get married, and that something I want—”

“It’s way too soon to talk about marriage when we aren’t even dating, Y/n.”

“No, that’s not what I mean. We could give this a serious shot, maybe that would be in our future. Even if we kept it transactional, no emotions involved, it would save us the issue of finding a partner. I’d have the family I always wanted, and you’d have the wife you’re being pressured to find. We can date first, see if we’re a good fit, and go from there.” You weren’t sure if you’d done a good enough job explaining what you meant, but it would have to do, and Daigo looked like he was seriously considering the offer. “Like I said, if there’s no actual spark but we’re comfortable with the arrangement, what’s the harm?”

“You told me once you wanted a husband you loved and that loved you in return.”

“Well, time is running out on that. It’s more important to me to have a child than to have love in a relationship. I want a child in a marriage. Nothing wrong with being a single parent, it’s just not what I want.” You watched as Daigo flicked his ashes into the bedside ashtray.

“Alright. No sense in not giving it a try.”

[gringolet]

that italian?

okay okay okay i think it happened long enough ago that i can dish about the drama. she changed her url and im not including it anyway so its fine.

prepare for a fuckin. essay in responss to a TWO WORD ask but anyay

so once upon time there was an italian who hated children and loved reylo. she also hung out in the arthuriana tag and got a bunch of asks about it. so one day some poor anon comes in and asks if she has any trans headcanons for arthurian characters, and she, instead of being a normal person and saying like, no, she goes off about how trans characters in fanfic is forced representation and she cant talk about trans people bc surgery is triggering for her.

found this in the archives lol. so i rbd politely explaining that while it was fine to not have trans hcs, her justifications for it were a little offensive.

hey i dont want to start discourse or anything but i see ur asks in the tag a lot and i wanted to politely address this. firstly obviously no one is under any obligation to hc things, and headcanons and fandom is not activism. if you’d just said “no, not really” it would b fine. i mean, cringe of u, but fine. but u make a couple of points here i want to look at a bit critically. then there is “I don’t like when headcanons are pushed up as ~representation, especially when… Ehm, it’s just fandom stuff?” i dont want to misinterpret you or put words in your mouth, but the implication that theres no need for trans rep in fandom and dismissal of that is a very cis take. My initial read of your intention there was a complaint of ‘why should something like fandom spaces, which are for fun and not serious, be filled with non fun serious (bad) trans stuff that i have to see when im trying to enjoy myself.’ now that could be incorrect, you were a bit vague here. if that is what you meant, i think you maybe should examine why you feel that way. if it isnt, im unclear on what exactly youre trying to say here. the idea that trans hcs are performative wokeness and “representation” in fandom is completely ignoring the actual trans people making and wanting them. there is so vanishingly little representation of trans people in actual media and even less thats good, and i think implying trans hcs are being pushed on people and fandom for, ~representation (a world of meaning in the ~ i shant speculate on) is very dismissive and ignorant of that fact. honestly the main thing im troubled by is the idea that trans bodies are inherently disgusting and triggering, which is an incredibly harmful and hurtful idea, and since you yourself acknowledge that trans people and hcs dont predicate surgery i question why you bring it up, except as a justification for disconfort rooted in unexamined prejudice. im not accusing you of being a terf or anything, i dont believe you meant harm by this or have bad intentions, and im definitely not saying anyone has to hc anything. it was the uncomfronted insidiousness of your justification that concerned me. this is not a personal attack at all, you just have a lot of influence in this fandom space and i wanted to make you aware of some of the surely accidentally harmful things ur saying.

so she flips out and rbs that yelling at me and cursing me out in italian (she moved blogs so i dont have her whole response just bits)

basically she completely derailed the original topic and accused me of calling her a horrible person for her triggers? which i never did and would never do, and then tried to make it a wierd anti v proshipper thing

third: I never said there’s no need of trans hcs in fandoms, BUT I’ve noticed that there’s a tendency of condemning people on the basis of what they ship / the dynamics they write. ( like the infinite discourse about how ‘I ship only mlm enemies to lovers because f/m enemies to lovers are Inherently Bad and Abusive - something I personally heard on Twitter sigh ), so I feel the need to say it. blame the current fandom climate.

and were like wow, this lady is unhinged, so we look around her blog and find a. a lot of stuff like saying its racist to not like incest?? and that italians arent white?? also shes a swerf?? and kind of deniel italian colonialsm? and reblogs from a bunch of out and out terfs} there was more but this isnt a callout post lol.

valentine lanzelet made a post about this crazy italian we found and she flipped out on him (this is one of several cursey italian tag rants)

roughly means: GO SHIT YOURSELF (italian alternative to go fuck you), RACIST TERF IS YOUR GRANDMOTHER IN A WHEELBARROW (italian saying which does not translate well) AND WHAT HAS ITALIAN COLONIALISM TO DO WITH THIS YOU UGLY SHIT, and anyways lancelot sucks

(translated by claudio beheaded)

anyway so then. and this is when it gets unhinged. she goes on this server me and a lot of my mutuals n friends r in, camelot, and starts complaining about me.

(in red is the server admin, who was lovely) i asked her to move this convo to dms if she must bc it was rude to bring drama into the server, and she refused, and started insisting that she was being bullied and just wanted to be left alone, so i was like okay lets all block each other and move on, and she refused, continuing to defend everything she was being criticized for

they also said claudio was making them look bad by translating their rants which like... queen if that made them look bad they were already a bad look.

so she keeps pinging people and replying to shit despite everyone else at this point begging her to just drop it and call it a stalemate

imagine this but around n around for like an hour. also she repeatedly got me and valentine confused it was super funny. also she claimed it was an invasion of her privacy for valentine to go on her public blog and look at the things she openly said and rbd there

so the server got put in slow mode and she KEPT GOING even though everyone was just begging her to stop and not even responding

as u can see, around this point we just started spamming her with emoji reactions. she announced she was leaving then went back to arguing a full three times before finally dipping from the server

then she continued complaining about us and calling us puriteens in her tags (trying to make it a proshipper v anti thing i guess lol?)

for literally months before finally remaking. also in that time she got in an argument about how the crusades were fine actually. italianphobia works hard but she works harder i guess

anyway i prolly left out a lot but thats the italian saga

[betelgeuse-boo]

WARNING: NSFW !!! If you are a minor or someone who does not want to see smut, please scroll past this post!!! Thank you!

Extensive Info/Warnings: Fellatio, 69, very slight mentions of musk, Beetlejuice using gross words like “puke” but only for one sentence (reader does not throw up in the story lol)

Reader Gender: AMAB and masculine pet names

Request from @hellminth , “I would love an inexperienced/nervous male reader being taught how to give a blowjob by beej”

I will try my very best on this!!! I do not have a weiner so I apologize if I get anything wrong!!

Words: 2575

----

“Reader’s First Blowjob”

Despite being in your mid 20’s, you had never given anyone head before. Not that you didn’t want to, per se, not even that you were a virgin or anything- it had just never come up with anyone you had been with for some reason or another. The idea of giving someone head was appealing, but when you had turned 22 without ever having done it, you sort of threw the fantasy out the window, finding yourself too vastly inexperienced to truly pleasure your partner. 

Yet here you were, laying on your tummy, Beetlejuice sitting up with his legs splayed next to your face, his slightly tattered striped boxers still on. One of his hands was resting on your head, his clawed digits lightly scratching at it. The matter of you not ever having given a blowjob had come up in conversation before, and he nearly did a spit take with the juice he was drinking when you had told him. Of course, smug bastard that he was, he did a fair amount of teasing you over it, calling you his “innocent little boyfriend”. Yeah right, you both knew that was far from the truth. 

“We can always arrange to give you a first time though,” The green haired demon said with a wink, and while you had laughed and pushed him away, it got you thinking. Maybe you did want to try? You had been with Beej for so long, and you were completely comfortable with him, so maybe it would be worth at least trying out. After all, it was impossible to get embarrassed around the stinky bug man you had grown so accustomed to.

...Or so you thought before, but as you sat there on your belly, face flushed, you weren’t too sure. Beej picked up on this and ever so slightly lifted your head to look at you.

“You getting cold feet, babe? We don’t hafta’ do this, it’s okay.” It always surprised you how respectful of boundaries he was during actual sexually intimate moments considering that he was not any other time. 

“It’s not that,” You started, tearing your gaze away from the green-eyed ghost. “I just...I guess I’m scared of embarrassing myself?”

“Pff,” Beetlejuice scoffed, and you could feel spit droplets hit your face. As you were wiping them away, he continued. “Like you could embarrass yourself in front of me.” When he saw that wasn’t helping, he groaned. “Listen, we’re gonna’ take it slow, okay? Even if you- I’unno, gag or puke or whatever, I’m not gonna’ hold anything against ya’. I’m just gonna’ laugh my ass off and that’ll be it!” What a way with words. You had to admit, though, that did aid in comforting you, and with a newfound gusto, you nodded up at him, resolute. 

“Alright. I swear if that thing tastes bad I’m gonna stop-”

“-Don’t worry about it, I wiped it down with a baby wipe just for you, honeypie.” Beetlejuice cooed in an exaggerated sing-songy tone, hitching his thumb under the waistband of his underwear and yanking them down. You weren’t too sure about the baby wipe thing- the second Beej pulled his boxers down, you could smell what you could only really describe as the scent that sex is linked with. Sweat for sure, hints of his ‘natural’ smell... it wasn’t bad or anything of the sort but you weren’t too sure if the demon had wiped himself whatsoever. Then again, it was very likely it could be coming from his bush, similarly colored as his hair. 

He was practically buzzing with excitement as he gently brought your head as close to him as you could. He was much warmer down here than any other part of his body; not that that was saying much since he was always cold, but this region had at least heated up to a nice, tepid temperature. “Get yourself familiar with it,” Beej purred above you, and at this moment, you tried to emulate what you had seen regarding blowjobs online. A single kiss that you planted on the tip of his dick drew a chuckle out of him, but he quickly inhaled as you pressed your tongue against it, dragging it down. You were tentative at first, but upon realizing that he must’ve actually done what he said in regards to ‘cleaning’ it as you couldn’t taste the caked on dust and miscellaneous grime you could on other parts of his body, you grew more eager. He tasted similarly to how he smelled down there- sweaty, yet...strangely pleasant. For a while, he let you do as you were, already slightly squirming due to it, but he eventually gently pulled you back up towards the tip with a husky laugh. 

“It’s not a saltlick, beau. That feels very good but you can actually suck it too.” His voice was lowered to that amazing tone that made you grow hot, but you also heated up in embarrassment. 

“O-okay, sorry,” You muttered against him, and he scratched your head in response.

“‘S no problem, but here,” With this, he positioned his dick with his other hand and ever so slightly rolled his hips forward, just enough to plunge the tip in your mouth. Hissing at the immediate warmth and wetness, he tightened his grip and unintentionally yanked your hair a bit. 

Okay. This wasn’t bad at all yet, you could handle this. Your tongue flicked against the head of his dick and you heard him cry out, practically jumping out of his skin. With a slight smile, you continued, maneuvering your tongue over the tip, making sure to coat every inch you could with your spit. It took a bit but he hissed ever so slightly, this time in a more pained way.

“Th-that’s good, babe, b-but you’re overstimulating me a bit,” The demon whined, and you immediately stopped. Whoops, you forgot that was a thing that happened. “Can I...can I stick more in?” He asked, panting as he was attempting to catch his breath, and you shot him a thumbs up. More of him sunk into you and you could already feel your mouth getting full- it wasn’t uncomfortable yet, but you could definitely already see why this was a hard task for some. You ran your tongue against more of his length, ignoring the tip for now, and he continued scratching at your head, sucking in deep breaths and moaning at the sensation.

“N-now can you hollow out your cheeks against me? L-like, uh...pretend you’re drinking out of a straw- yeah! Yeah, that’s it,” As you created suction against him, the demon groaned and began to maneuver your head himself, slowly however, so that you could pull away whenever you wanted if it proved to be too much. He sunk your head down to about halfway down his length before you tensed up- feeling the head of his dick tickle against the back of your throat was strange, and while Beetlejuice would have killed for you to deepthroat him, he realized that was definitely too much for a beginner. A better idea popped into his head though, and he shakily asked you if you wanted him to reciprocate. As you pulled up against his hand for air, an abundance of drool dribbling down your chin already, you nodded up at him, feeling hot arousal pulse through you as well.

Though you had never given head, you had received it from Beetlejuice quite a few times before. Long story short, he absolutely knew how to use that long, thick tongue of his. While his mouth was slightly colder than what a human’s would be, he still always felt amazing around you. Cackling at your excitement, he rubbed your head. “Okay, handsome.” With this, the large ghost picked you up with ease, laid himself down, then laid you down on top of him- your face close to his crotch, his face close to yours. He had to position your legs so that you were on your knees, that way he could actually get to your crotch, and hummed as he palmed you through your underwear. “Looks like you’re turned on too, huh, (Y/N)?” 

You just laughed in agreement, you hadn’t really realized how hard you were until Beej was touching you. Eager to get to taste you as well, the demon all but tore off your underwear, flinging them to the other side of the room. “Beetleju-” You started, but you quickly cut yourself off with a moan as his tongue wrapped around the hilt of your penis. 

“God, babe, you taste fuckin’ fantastic,” You jumped as you heard his voice in your mind. For whatever reason, you forgot that his abilities included telepathy- he would resort to it when his tongue was busy doing something else…almost bashfully, you lowered your head back to his crotch, flustered with the compliment. His large hand found its way back onto your head and you took him into your mouth once again. Beetlejuice resumed in groaning, but this time, it was against you. You slowed, trembling slightly and feeling yourself burn hot- it was going to be a hell of a lot more difficult to pleasure him while he was pleasuring you, as you kept jerking and jumping when he hit a particularly sweet spot on you. Determined, though, and realizing that Beej was doing most of the work for you, you kept at it, occasionally swiping your tongue against parts of his length, relishing in feeling him groan or even tense up under you. 

He on the other hand was utilizing his tongue to the fullest extent, having essentially been jerking you off with it for a good while before finally taking you into his mouth as well. You let out a whine around his dick and you felt one of his hands slap your ass. Unlike you, he was more than experienced in doing this, so he could manage to take all of you in at once. It felt amazing, him providing you with the same tight grip you did him on top of his tongue still wrapped around you. However, he had to be extra cautious in moving against you, as his row of sharp teeth could for sure hurt had he not been as careful as possible. However, that wasn’t even a thought at this point, as he had sucked you off more than enough times for you to know that he knew what he was doing. 

The two of you got lost in the motions for a while, practically synchronizing your rhythm so that when your head was plunged down against him, he drew away so that only the head of your dick was in his mouth, and vice versa. His grip on you grew less sturdy though, euphoria overtaking him the longer you went at it, and as his hand slipped away, you kept the pace, bobbing your head up and down against him in time. 

“Good boy,” Beetlejuice’s voice cut into your mind, causing you to shiver as you rose up for air. You loved it when he praised you, and likewise, he loved it when you praised him. 

“Y-you’re so good at this.” Was all you could choke out before returning your head to the position you’d grown accustomed to in the past minutes, a smug growl sounding out from the demon. He knew he was, but hearing you say it to him made him squirm that much more.

As you two attempted to keep the ever quickening pace, you both began to find you were approaching your respective orgasms. You moved your pelvis against the demon, rocking yourself against him as he continued to jerk you off with his tongue inside his mouth, and he in turn was shifting his hips as you bobbed against him, the tip of his dick teasing against the back of your throat. The both of you were practically caked in sweat now- some of your body heat transferring to the demon under you, he was warmer than he usually had been, his skin heating up to what could almost be considered a human temperature. 

You decided to challenge yourself to take all of him in, you took a deep breath and squeezed your eyes shut before doing so, taking all of his length into your mouth and throat. He cried out, some guttural exclamation mixed with surprise and arousal, as he felt himself squeezed by the tightness of your throat. Immediately, you wanted to gag, but willed past it, letting yourself sit still for a moment as Beej thrust two times before all but howling against you, pulling your head off him and emptying himself against your face. Splurts of light green cum shot against your mouth and chin, and it wasn’t too long until he made you cum inside of his mouth too.

Squeezing your dick with his tongue so he could milk every last drop from you and gulp it down, you trembled, and his hands found their way to your hips so he could steady you. When he had felt that you were finally done, he uncoiled the muscle from your dick and you rolled off him and onto your back next to him, the both of you gasping and panting. 

After you gained your bearings, you were the one that broke the silence. “...Did you have to cum on my face?” You heard him giggle next to you.

“Whoops, sorry. Lemme’ get that.” Before you could react, he rolled to his side, let that long tongue of his snake out of his mouth, and lapped up his own ejaculate to your horror. As he pulled away, smacking his lips with an ‘Aah’ as if he had enjoyed a sip of a drink, you scrunched your nose up. 

“Really?!” He laughed at your mortification and licked your cheek in response, causing your grimace to break into a smile as you rolled your eyes. “I didn’t mind you cumming on my face or anything, don’t worry.” 

Basking in afterglow, the demon gave a sort of lazy smile, those eyes of his lighting up. “You did so well, baby. Can’t believe you thought you were gonna’ embarrass yourself.” Blushing at this, it was your turn to giggle as you pressed your hand against his face, feeling exhilarated that you managed to give him a good blowjob. 

“Well, thank you.” You responded, the smile evident in your voice. “You did amazing too.”

“Yeah well, they don’t call me BJ for nothin’.” The demon’s voice was muffled against your hand, and all you could do was groan at his stupid joke before pressing a kiss against his forehead. “Hey, could you order some takeout? All that’s got me starving.” 

You rolled your eyes with a grin as you rolled off the bed and got up to pick up your undergarment that Beetlejuice had thrown across the room. “Sure, just for you, bugboy.” You wouldn’t tell him of course, but you had deemed successfully sucking your boyfriend’s dick as a triumph worthy enough to elicit getting food delivered, so you weren’t adverse to the idea. You were happy as this day had proved that you had a partner you were comfortable in trying anything with, so you smirked as you recommended a place that neither of you had ever eaten at before, and Beej was more than happy to humor you.