#FOR WHAT DID A PAY A SHIT TON OF MONEY

[l-alan-l]

having zero information of my ancertry after a point is too frustrating and trying to find anythoing on it even more LIKE BRO IS THERE LIKE NO ORLA STORIES PAST DOWN LIKE IK U LIVED THROUGH A GENOCIED, DISPLASMENT AND POLITICAL REPRESSION AND ARE PART OF A SMALL ETHNICITY THAT GE´TS NO REGOGNICION IN ANZTHING BUT COMMON ARGGGGGGG

[beaniebabs]

fuckkkk my laptop keyboard is fucked up and idk how to fix it. do u think i can play project zomboid on my tablet i literallyjust got the game </3 and also the entire rest of my life is on my laptop or whatever

[rakkiankh]

Frustrated

[autisticlee]

how to make business plans: spend 2 weeks looking for a website to make a visual plan guide that you can collaborate with business partners, but you end up nowhere because all of them require paid subscriptions to do more than a few basic things. except you don't want to pay for these because you don't have a business yet and therefore no money!!!! but you need more than basic features (basically you can only put 50-100 items on your board with free account and i will definitely need more)

[daforged]

i work really hard to not compare myself to others but it’s so bizarre to me to see other people my age like. going out all the time or travelling or even just living on their own. what do you mean all your money goes to just your own living expenses & your own fun and you aren’t the financial backbone of your family. every time i take vacation days a coworker will ask me if i’m going somewhere and its like no lmfao do you think im made of money. i dont think about it much because it doesn’t really do anything but upset me but deep down im so resentful of every other young adult who doesn’t have to pay their parents bills and just gets to blow their money on whatever the fuck whenever the fuck

[sqeeebus]

No this literally happened to me recently— except more embarassing

[albonium]

my brother in law is such a dickhead i swear to god my sister needs to burry him in the garden at least he'll be usefull to the worms

[tojisteddy]

Sweet Ride | smut, 18+ MDNI, 1.2k words, softdom!Toji x sweetheart!reader

You’d been 3 months into your relationship when Toji Fushiguro finally realized that you, for some odd reason, loved letting idiots fuck you.

It must’ve been where that very minuscule masochism kink came from. Had to be.

He’d noticed the way you’d get shocked when he went to pay for— well- everything. Didn’t matter if he lost a shit ton from gambling and losing that day, didn’t matter if you went over your own set budget, didn’t matter that you didn’t ask because you didn’t want to look money hungry or if you quickly pulled out your card and paid. He’s sending $300 to you to make up for it. The man. Was going. To pay.

Toji also noticed the way you’d shy away when you realized he was actually listening to the words that came out of your mouth. Informing you that he hated that coworker of Sherl just a little bit more than you did. Plainly telling you ‘no’, he didn’t just want to see just your hair bone straight- he wanted to see your curly hair that framed your face (when you wanted to of course) and that he thought you would look good with any hair color not just the jet black. Or when you only went to make food that he liked,

“But this is what my ex-“

“—Mama, what do you really wanna eat? Tell me or we’ll both starve tonight.”

Truthfully, it irritated the fuck out of the man.

He didn’t get it, how someone so precious got treated like shit on multiple occasions. He kept reminding himself that you weren’t the problem, those fucking dick wads were.

But the irritation jumped back out when you rode him. He knew after that first time (just a week ago) that those fucking idiots didn’t know what the fuck to do with you. He’d cock his eyebrow up at you because he simply couldn’t hide the vexation of it all.

“You don’t like it Toj?” Your voice was hoarse, curls falling over your face, a pout forming.

It was clear the way you moved your hips back and forth, held yourself and didn’t use him for leverage, you rode your ex’s to get them off and nothing more.

More sins against God.

There had to be a scripture about it somewhere, “Never let thou spouse ride-ith you in cowgirl without her cumming.” Or something— the man didn’t know. He knew for a fact, only a bitch would never let a woman cum while she’s riding him.

“Toji? ‘M sorry, it must not be good.” You let out a shaky breath, trying to relax, not be too touchy. “ ‘S just harder cause you’re so… so big. ‘Nd I- fuck- mmm- don’t think I’ve ever had time to relax like this. I must be takin too long.”

Shit, you frowned, big brown puppy eyes looking down at the green eyed monster and his heart ached. He nuzzled his head in the crook of your neck, his poor pretty baby. Sweet doll, don’t you worry your little head. Your Toji would fix this little problem tonight.

And when you two were done, he’d beat the fucking breaks out of each and every single one your exes.

It would cleanse the soul.

“ ‘S okay baby, yer doin good. Need you to relax f’me. Want you to take a little bit more though, hm? You can take it, right? You’re a good girl.”

You bit your lip, nodding in agreement.

Such a good girl. Toji’s sweet ‘nd good girl.

Tojis hands pulled you closer. “How do I get ya to relax then? Can you tell me?” You felt your cheeks heat up, shaking your head and attempting to hide yourself in his neck. But Toji kept you still, playfully bumping your foreheads together with a chuckle.

“Let’s find out then,” His hands wandered, up and down your sides, then one staying at the small of your back, the other making its way to your pretty tit in his hand. Slowly massaging it in his palm. “Maybe you like it here?”

You whimpered in his mouth and Tojis scar moved upward in amusement, green eyes low. He left a trail of kiss from your cute cheeks, down to your jaw. “Or here?” Down to your neck, taking a few nibblies here and there. “Or here?”

You let out a soft moan, finally nodding your head.

“Words, mama.” He was stern but you felt the grin against your neck.

“T-there feels— feels so nice Toj.” The man hummed at your words, being sure to praise you with an array of kisses and hickeys for the world to see tomorrow on your neck.

“I-I can move now?” You asked. You felt so full with what he was giving you, but you felt so good with every little kiss the aching tip and veins of his member gave to your walls.

“Course doll.” He enterwinted your fingers, “Gotta take it nice ‘nd slow baby, don’t gotta go fast.”

You gulped, gradually lifting yourself up and down and rocking your hips back and forth, then repeating the motion. Your hands left his large ones, starting to use his shoulders as leverage, “There you go ma, there you fuckin go.”

He hissed, you were a god damn waterfall down there. Toji didn’t even know how the fuck you were still managing to keep him insider everytime you’d move up so just the tip was in, and slamming back down. When you tried to go faster a large calloused hand came down to your ass.

“B-but Tojiii,” you whined, slowly swiveling your hips one time to get a curse out of him. “Wanna make you feel good too.”

“ ‘Nd I ‘ppreciate Doll, I do. You feel so fuckin good too ma, but it’s not about me tonight, ‘s about you. Need you to really feel it deep in your pretty pussy.” He gave you a few thrusts, matching your rhythm creating the most beautiful smack smack smack your bedroom has ever heard.

“Take what you need babygirl.”

Toji had a way with words, he’d gotten a pornographic moan from it alone. Your nails dug into his shoulders, the meat of your thighs jiggling every time you came down. Slick drenching Toji’s cock, your thighs were burning but you kept moving. Chasing your high with every bounce on his fat fuck.

“Goooood girl, now you got it doll.”

“I can— I can take more Toji.” You stammered out.

“I’d loooove that sweetheart— shit ma- but not tonight. Ngh— This is just enough.”

“But—“

“-Aht,” he grumbled, helping you move your hips as you got just a tad too slow for his liking, “don’t bite more than you can chew. Come on, you can make yourself and your boyfriend cum, can’t you?”

He didn’t have to tell you twice, you were grinding and slamming yourself down what you could take as hard as ever getting a loud from Toji. You were such a good and fast leaner, the man would have to keep you. Train you to do other things, soon enough you’d be able to take all of him. You were fucking pulsing like a over worked heartbeat around him as a wave of emotions smacked you over the head, a string of fuck fuck fuck and Toji Toji Toji leaving your mouth.

The man growled, giving your ass a few harsh smacks as he rapidly thrust into you. You never knew when you were cumming so you never vocalized it.

You’d work on that too.

Quickly pulling out, spurts of his cum hit your stomach. You both were panting messes, Toji’s pink lips meeting your temple, then your soft full lips.

“Good fuckin job, mama.”

a/n: ride the dragon by fka twigs

most recent masterlist

[bluem1lls]

hey *leans against table and winks or smth* can i request se-mi x reader on where they’re roommates but fucking HATE each other but se-mi has a onlyfans account (because she’s a freakazoid👅👅) and reader finds out so like when reader confronts her about it or smth se-mi somehow magically gets reader to join her and they become scissor sisters (also se-mi with a strap i DONT fear..) and become lovers..?? sorry if this is to much or shitty

✧₊⁺ show me who you are

se-mi x fem! reader

✦ synopsis: having a roommate you hate is annoying. and it becomes even more annoying when she gets all your good angles in the porn video you both filmed. tw: minors dni, smut w plot, and they were roommates!, fingering/oral (r!receiving), scissoring, sub!reader, dom!se-mi, degradation (a little?), choking, a bit of slapping authors note: hi! for the girl who also requested enemies to lovers IM SORRY i lost ur request but here it is! tysm for reading and the requests, i hope u like it!

"this is important!" thanos said, making me sit down besides nam-gyu in our living room as i stared at my other best friend from the corner of my eyes. nam-gyu shrugged as i sighed.

"yes?"

"we're in debt with the landlord"

"we knew that" nam-gyu said as i nodded and thanos rolled his eyes.

"no like.. we actually need to pay him back a shit ton. but he said we could do it per month. the thing is none of us has any more money, so here's my idea.. a new roommate!"

"cool" nam-gyu said.

"no way" i said at the same time.

"listen to me" thanos grabbed my shoulders. "i hate the idea too, but we're poor. my room can be her room and i'll share with nam-gyu"

i stared at both of them as nam-gyu turned to him. "wait- like bed and-"

"no, not the bed dumb ass" thanos smacked him as the other one nodded. "so? are we getting a new roommate?" he repeated to both of us. i sighed and nodded. nam-gyu did too, making thanos smile. "great! because her name is se-mi and she's about to be here in 30 minutes"

my eyes widden. wait what?

"what-wait. oh my god. you knew we would say yes so you already took the interviews and picked a random person? are you fucking insane?" i stood up, hitting him as he winced.

"auch- i knew u two would say yes because we don't have another choice. plus min-su's best friend was looking for a place so i told her and she agreed. never thought that could lead to my death, jesus." he stared at me with a frown as he rubbed his arm.

"oh wait, the tall girl with the short hair? oh i like her, she's cool" i stared at nam gyu with my mouth open.

was i the only one who had no idea of who she was? i've been so busy with school that it was hard to keep a pace with the guys. we've been a group ever since i can remember. nam-gyu came after, at first it was just me, thanos and min-su, then it was just the four of us. we decided to live together once we were old enough and it has been that way since. min-su stayed out because he said we were 'a mess' and he didn't had to pay rent at his parent's house.

i heard the doorbell ring as thanos ran to the door, opening to reveal a tall girl with short brunette hair, piercings on her lip and nose.

oh, she's pretty.

"come in! so you know him, and this our best friend and third annoying roomate!" he said as i told her my name. she stared up and down, biting her lip in a nervous manner.

"se-mi" she introduced herself with a head nod.

i smiled at her as he showed her around. it was a normal apartment with a living, one bathroom, three rooms and a small balcony (usually used for the hangouts and to smoke).

as she looked at the place, nam-gyu left her stuff in her new room. once he came back, he wrapped his arms around me, giving me a light squeeze.

"hey, it'll be fun. plus you get along more with girls than boys, you'll love her. maybe she'll even be your new best friend."

"if you don't like it then MOVE OUT!" i shouted at her. my breath shaking with anger.

"well, guess what doll? i live here too! and if you don't like it, then go find a new place, but we both know you won't because your real issue is that you just love to complain. you're just a brat who cries when she doesn't get what she wants!" se-mi screamed back, standing up from the couch to face me.

"go fuck yourself!" i replied, grabbing the keys and my phone before slamming the apartment door.

i quickly texted my best friend to meet up at our usual coffee shop as i walked through the cold streets, trying to cool off. once i got there, i ordered the usual; ice coffee and chai tea latte for jun-hee.

i saw her sat in one of the booths. "i will kill her. i'm not joking" i said as sat down. she chuckled, this wasn't a new subject for her.

"you never gave her an actual chance th-"

"she doesn't need it! i don't need it! she's been a bitch to me ever since she came. everytime i wake up, when i hang out with the guys, she's always there! it's like she became part of the group!"

she stared at me with a sympathetic smile as she drank her chai tea.

"she is part of the group now, love. and i don't think that's changing, if the guys like her, you know they'll keep her around, mostly now that she lives there. so you can choose to fumble everytime you're around her or try to at least ignore her to be at peace" jun-hee said as i sighed. my hands rubbed my face as i groaned.

"i'll try. doesn't mean it'll go well" i said, still not uncovering my face as she gave me a soft chuckle.

"you'll do great!"

as i came back to the apartment, i could hear the moanings even from outside. i took a deep breath to cool down as i entered. of course the moans came from her room.

ever since she got here, she brings a different girl every fucking weekend. nam-gyu and thanos are staring with their mouths wide open when they open the door to find (once again) an another beautiful blonde standing there. they also stare disappointed when se-mi appears with a quick hi, kisses her and guides her to her room.

a long line of girls walk into that room and leave with messy hair, hickeys, messy clothes and a relaxed and very fucked out face.

"it's ridiculous, what is she, a pornstar?" i tell jun-hee as she lays in my bed while i pace in my room. she bites her lip to supress a smile.

"so... i have something to tell you. or show you."

i stared at her, sitting in bed to watch while she tapped on her phone, looking for something.

"so we have talked about this countless times since she moved in, right? so i searched a bit and.." she turned her phone, her only fans profile appeared as i gasped and covered my mouth.

"you have to be kidding me!" i stared wide eyed, taking the phone. "oh my god jun-hee did you fucking bought her content?" i open my mouth, staring at the doe eyed girl besides me.

"research purposes. take a look. oh wait, i'll send them to you"

as the photos and videos arrived to my phone, i went through each of them and oh my god. my face flushed crimson red as i stare at one particular photo. you could see from her bare chest to her crotch. she had a strap that hit her lower stomach with her hand wrapped around it, looking like she was stroking it like it was her cock. i licked my lips as my mouth felt dry and my head dizzy. jun-hee sent me 5 videos, se-mi fucking a blonde girl in all fours, another one scissoring, fucking in missionary, a pretty redhead riding her. she knew how to attract people to buy her shit, and she knew how to make the content.

"she's hot" my best friend said with a soft push on my direction, making me snap from my thoughs as i shrugged.

"doesn't make her any less annoying"

"can i buy-" he said, as i quickly cut him off.

"no."

"but you've seen it-" the other one said, as i, once again, cut them both off.

"no one is buying anything!" i rolled my eyes at both guys. "this is a secret i shared with my best friends. not with my lousy roommates, got it? if i hear that se-mi found out from either of you, both will be very much dead. like dick? cut off" i threated them as thanos stared down at his crotch with his eyes wide. they both nodded.

"man, i wish a had a girl" nam-gyu stared at a blank point.

i told them once again 'not a word' as i headed back into my room. i heard the door closing as the guys left. they mentioned in the morning they were going at min-su's, i told them i'd stop by later. i heard the door open again just as they left, probably se-mi.

as i looked for my charger in my room, i started to get annoyed. the three of them steal it all the fucking time. i leave my room to bash into nam-gyu's and thanos room, taking a quick look in the dark. no signs of the charger.

as i close the door, i see se-mi staring at me with a smirk on her face. her arms crossed on her chest with an amused expression.

"did you take my charger?" i asked as she hummed.

"maybe" she replied as i let out a groan of exasperation.

"se-mi."

she let out a snort as she went into her room, quickly coming back to throw the charger at me, as i pressed my lips to not curse her. outloud.

"it would be my pleasure if you stopped grabbing my stuff without my permission"

"mine doesn't charge as fast" she replied, the amusement on her face never leaving as i rolled my eyes.

"one would guess that with all the money you make with your only fans you could afford a new charger" i mumbled under my breath as i turned around. i felt her hands quickly grip my arm tight as i winced. "auch-"

"what the fuck did you said?" the smirk on her lips faded as she stared intensely at me.

well that was a mistake. but i can't back up now, can i?

"i said" my tongue did a quick 'tsk' as i stared into her eyes, her gaze felt intense and cold. "one would think that with the money you make at only fans you could buy a fast charger, but i guess it isn't going as good as i guessed?"

i could feel my back pressed against the wall, making me let out a small wince. she pinned me, her head slightly down to fixate her gaze on me. i could see her annoyed expression.

"and how would you know that?" she spit. her eyes never leaving mine.

"it's not that hard. a little research and all i can see is why so many girls come in and out every weekend. your videos are boring, by the way."

her angry expression turned into a... confused one? an amused one? a scoff escaped her lips as they curved into a small smirk.

"oh. so you watched them?"

fuck. fucking jun-hee for the details. and fucking jun-hee for that strap photo that's all that's been going through my mind the last few days.

"w-what? no, no" i said as she slowly pressed her body against mine. one of arms left to wall to grip my waist, holding me tightly against her. our eyes never stopped meeting in the silence of the living room.

"you've watched them. you're noisy and you know too much not to. and i bet you enjoyed every single one of them" she replied in a low voice. her eyes roamed over my face, searching for a hint of a lie, but all she could find was the embarrasement in my eyes, making her let out an amused scoff. her fingers softly began to trace circles on my waist as a shiver ran through my spine. "bet you even got wet watching them"

i bit my lip in response. not getting out of my head the amount of times i squeezed my tighs when i saw the videos and photos. the heat that pooled in my panties everytime i saw her thrusts inside of one of her girls. the way she'd make them suck her strap as if it was her real cock, the grip she hold in their hair made me even wetter, but when my hand lowered to take care of my ache, i had stop myself, reminding me how this was just my insufferable roommate.

"were you just mad because you wanted to be one of my girls, doll?" her finger tilted my chin up to stare at her. the room felt heavy with tension as her other hand held me in place. a blush placed on my cheeks, making me feel ashamed because i knew she was right. i did wanted to be one of them. the silence was the answer she needed. she bit her lip piercing as she couldn't help the smirk that escaped.

i felt her hands dip underneath my top as i let out a shaky breath, i could feel my heart stammering on my chest, my legs felt like they could no longer hold me, the only thing keeping me standing was her firm grip. she closed the distance between our bodies, as her lips gently caressed mines without kissing me.

"i bet you're such a whore, you'd even love if i filmed you, hm?"

my cunt aching as i heard her words. i could feel my thong getting pooled with arousal. the proximity between us only made my heart beat faster as i softly nodded, her gaze never leaving mine as her eyes darkened with desire.

she took a step back, grabbing my hand as she pulled us both into her room and closed the door. i could see her blue duvet that i recognized from the videos. she even had led lights to make the entire room feel more like a porn video with high quality.

i didn't even got to process the other furniture as she pushed me against the door, her grip once again holding my waist.

"you really know how to push my buttons." she said leaving wet kisses on my neck as i leaned my head, giving her acess to more space as she groaned. the feeling of her lips making me whine. "you're such an insufferable little brat"

"then do something about it" i replied, a smirk curving my lips as she licked hers.

she lets out a huff. "it really sucks when the most annoying person i know is the one that arouses me the most" she said, my eyes filled with surprise as she crashed her lips with mine in a harsh, desperate kiss.

i quickly melted to her, my arms wrapped around her neck, grabbing the nape of it. bringing her closer as one of her hands left my waist to slowly trail down to my ass, squeezing and giving it a harsh spank as i whimpered in between kisses.

she broke the kiss to speak. her voice husky. "you can't tell the guys about this. not a single word"

"i still hate you" a dry chuckle escaped se-mi's lips at my reply, kissing me again. i felt pure desire through my body as her hands roamed all over.

she moved me out of the door and pushed me to bed. an arrogant smirk tugged at her lips at the sight of me in her room. her gaze taking my entire body with a mix of lust and excitement. she took a few steps to set up the camera in the tripod. as her finger posed on the little 'on' button, she stared at me.

"are you sure you want to do this?"

"yeah. turn it on"

she bit her lip as her fingers pressed the 'on' button. my heart stammered from excitement as she placed herself between my legs, on top of me.

our lips finding eachother once again, her tongue entering my mouth while her hands wrapped around my throat, giving it a light squeeze to test as i moaned in response.

the kiss felt rough and raw. she could feel the vibration of my moan against her as her grip tightened. her body pressed against mine made me feel the heat radiate from her. our bodies molded together.

she slid her knee between my legs, the pressure against my core sent a wave of pleasure, making her break the kiss to press her lips on my neck as my hands went to her hair, tugging her closer.

"my needy girl" i nodded in response as she licked and bit my neck. "now be a good girl, stand up and take your clothes off" she ordered as i did what she said.

my wobbly legs trembled at her intense gaze on my body. i let my leggins hit the floor as i slowly pulled the shirt out of my head, her eyes tracing the curves of my body, making me shiver as i was only left on my bra and panties, i tried to move aside the feeling of being so exposed. as my hands moved to my back to remove my bra, she sat on the the edge of the bed. her arms sneaking around my waist, pulling me closer to her.

"maybe let's leave this pretty set on" she said, staring at my pink underwear as i nodded, feeling dizzy and flushed under her look.

my legs straddling her thighs as i sat on top of her. her hands moved to grab my ass, giving it a light squeeze as our lips found once again in a lustful kiss. she moved me around so i was laying underneath her. her kisses lowered to my neck, down to my chest. the trail going downwards to my cunt. as it reached, she left a soft open-mouthed kiss on my clothed clit. her fingers trailed a path from my thighs to my desperate cunt, who was begging her for attention.

she softly traced over my panties, one finger circling my clit as the wet patch on the lingerie spreaded. her fingers moved up and down my soaked center, pulling my thong aside.

"could you hold this for me, doll?" she said as i nodded, my eyes becoming watery as i bit my lip. i felt her hot breath against my bare cunt, making me shiver as she placed her hands on both of my thighs to spread me open and hold me in place.

her tongue went straight to my clit, giving it some short but pressured licks, making me throw my head back as my hand never left the hold on my panties.

she kept licking, making me moan and whimper from pleasure. my free hand grabbed one of my tits, giving it a light squeeze as i pinch my nipple.

i could feel her eyes on me. "what a slut. you're a natural" her words causing vibrations against my cunt, making me clench around nothing as i kept moaning louder.

i felt as she left the space between my legs to pick up the camera, handing it over to me as i looked at her dumbfounded.

"could you hold it for me, princess? so everyone gets a closer look at how good i eat this pussy"

her words making me whimper as i hold the camera with one hand and still hold my panties with the other one. she gets back between my legs. this time, two of her fingers enter without warning in my warm cunt as my eyes roll back, feeling overwhelmed by how well her tongue swirls around my clit and the fast pace that her fingers pick out.

she thrusts harsh, scissoring with her long fingers inside of me, removing them to dip them once again, her movements make my moans get even louder and louder.

i clench when i take a look at what the camera is recording. her face in between my legs, her hair sticking to her forehead as she eats it with pleasure, moaning at how good i taste.

her fingers follow her tongue pace, making me squirm in pleasure as she holds me in place. i can hear the squelching sounds my pussy makes as she thrusts.

"nu-huh. if you're gonna cum, then do it on my mouth baby. i'm not stopping"

she goes quicker and harder as i feel the heat on my lower stomach about to snap. i rut against her face, needy for release as she gives me a soft chuckle at my desperation. i feel her lips wrapping and sucking around my clit as her fingers curl inside of me, making my entire body tremble. my vision goes white as i roll my eyes back, feeling the orgasm run through my entire body. my toes curl from pleasure as she never stops, only when my body goes numb and i'm whimpering and whining from the overstimulation.

i open my eyes as i looked at her through the viewfinder of the camera. her chin and lips covered with my glossy release. her tongue licks her lips as she hums at the taste, her gaze almost black as she stares at my fucked out state. she props herself up from in between my legs, snatching the camera from my hands. she points it towards me, recording my face as her fingers enter my mouth. i suck them clean, tasting myself as i watch her half-lidded eyes and her teeth nibble at her lip piercing as she hums.

she holds the camera with one hand, while her right hand grips my face, squeezing my cheeks. only releasing to give a harsh slap as i whine. "such a whore, hm?"

she stands up, leaving the camera on the tripod as she quickly swifts off her clothes, throwing them somewhere in the room.

she gets in bed again, lifting my leg to place it on her shoulder as she positions on top, lining herself up against me.

we both moan at the contact. her dripping wet cunt rutting against my sticky pussy. her moves are harsh and fast, creating a rhythm that's followed by our moans and slick sounds.

my nails claw at her thighs, making her speed up. i throw my head back, chanting her name like a prayer.

her eyes are fixated on my expressions. she bites her lip as her hair sticks down to her forehead with sweat.

"hear those wet sounds doll? that's how wet you get me by being a fucking brat" her words hitting right to my core as i lift my hips, our clits bumping. "stay like that" she says in a moan, rutting faster. both desesperate for release.

"fuuuck" her teeth clench as her hands wraps around my throat, making my eyes roll back as she lets out a shaky breath, her eyes shuting close while her head falls back as she grinds herself faster.

i could feel the tight sensation wrappping me once again.

"gonna cum, gonna cum, gonna cum" i chanter as her grip around my throat tightens.

a loud moan escapes my mouth as the feeling snaps. heat on my lower stomach as my release makes her cum. her eyes roll back with a loud moan escaping her lips while she keeps grinding, making our releases last longer.

she slids from on top to stand up to. she turns off the camera, falling into bed, besides me. her chest going up and down with heavy breaths as i try catching my own, my cheeks burning red.

"not a word about this to anyone. this was a one time thing" i murmur, slowly getting up to find my clothes.

she lets out a sigh, replying. "yeah, not a word. we're not doing this again"

and one week later, i'm watching my own porn video posted on her only fans while she's between my legs with her tongue swirling around my clit as she speaks:

"do you like watching yourself while i eat you, doll?" she says as i nod. my hands grab her hair, tugging her up to leave my cunt. she gives me a heated kiss, making me taste myself on her mouth.

"let's do it again" i mumble in between kisses as she smirks, lowering herself down.

it's about to be a long night.

[rabid-dog-steve-horn]

Listen up you ignorant sheep.

He lies about everything is the point of me posting this.

He didn't have the power himself to ban fracking cause the state and federal government have control of the land involved and the laws and the regulations they passed due to democrat climate change agenda which Joe Biden is a democrat and said he agrees with climate change many numerous times himself. Look that up. Strange how only democrat areas banned fracking, eh?

He didn't stop them, he didn't try to find any way to reach any compromises, he left them go ahead and push their agenda forward. Why? That's what democrats do.

Look online, I posted a few things to prove you jerks wrong and nobody said a word cause there's the proof. There's tons of stuff online about it across the country, but I'm from Pennsylvania so I found a few examples close to home. Believe me there's a shitload online. I only picked a few cause I shouldn't have to waste time looking shit up cause nobody else is willing to cause they're too busy posting TikTok videos of silly animals and crying on Facebook they had a bad hair day.

We were energy independent, we weren't relying on other countries for oil or fossil fuels of any kind until Joe Biden came in passing executive orders that reversed every single fucking thing Trump put into effect to better our country. And that's why Trump jokingly said he'd be a dictator on day one cause sleepy Joe did that exact same fucking thing to him & our entire fucking country.

You assholes must like paying more for gas and helping terrorist countries earn money to buy weapons to murder people. Where are we getting our oil from you idiots? Joe depleted our oil reserves and prevented the pipelines on American soil from being completed while letting Russia finish theirs. Then rejoined that Paris Agreement that Trump took us out of to be more energy independent and free from environmental climate regulation nonsense.

You like funding China so they gain power? They can frack & mine for minerals to build your fucking electric car batteries and cell phone batteries which we could be doing ourselves if not for the democrats.

You might wanna look online to learn gas and fossil fuels are used in a lot of everyday products not just to make your cars drivable and heat your homes.

Perhaps if you'd look things up and do some fucking research instead of playing candy crush and gambling online you'd realize how wrong the democrats really are.

[jjsloverre]

bsf!jj asking you to be his girlfriend!

in which… jj takes sweetheart out to an arcade to ask her to be his girlfriend!

contains… cursing, ultimate fluff, and a TINY bit of smut, unprotected p in v (don’t do this), handjob & that’s it i hope! (not proofread)

__________________________________________________________

today was the day. today was the day jj would finally ask you to be his girlfriend. after waiting for years to do it, today he wouldn’t chicken out, you both would finally be happy.

“baby! hurry up we got 20 minutes!” jj yelled from downstairs. “i’m coming love!” you hurried downstairs. “holy fuck you look like a goddess.” jj murmured, kissing you while you walked out the house.

the drive to the arcade was bliss. you and jj were rambling about school, homework, work, anything that came to mind? oh yeah you talked about it. “so jayj?” you started. he looked at you for a second. “what’s up baby?” you took his free hand and fiddled with it, finally intertwining your hands together. “i’m happy to be with you, like a lot. i couldn’t ask for anything more and i already love this date bunches.”

jj looked at you with pure love and adoration. “y’know i adore you? everything about you just, makes me wanna protect you from the world. keep you in your tiny little love bubble you always got goin on, it’s just so sweet and precious.” your heart soared at his loving words. while the red light was active, you leaped into jj’s arms for a few kisses and sat back down. “i love you so much jayj.”

“i love you more sweetheart.”

jj took your hand into the arcade, buying the tokens and the gaming card for you both to play. “alright mama, what’s first?” he asked, while paying. “definitely basketball, you’re getting your ass kicked!” you say excitingly. “love your confidence baby.” he smirked, and took you to an available basketball hoop. “jayj this is gonna be so fun!!” you exclaimed, already swiping your card. “how much money did you put on here again?”

“don’t get mad but like there’s a good 500 points on there or some shit.”

“jj! that’s almost 200 dollars!” you screamed. you hated when jj blew almost a full check on you. “baby, it’s alright it’s worth it.” you sighed, he would continue to fight about it and you knew that. “okay fine, but next date is on me.”

“ok baby, whatever you’d like.” as you both played basketball and a ton of other games, you finally took a break for food. “baby!” you squeal. “can we pleaseeeee share a funnel cake?”

jj smiled and nodded. “yes ma’am we can. here, take my card and go buy it. i’ll get us a table and get whatever drinks you want ok?” you nod, and take his card. “do you want any specific drink?” jj shook his head. “get me anything you wanna get me, whatever you want sweetheart.”

“okay!” you walk to concession stand and order your food and drinks. you walk back a few minutes later and hand him his favorite drink. “there you go my baby!” jj’s heart swelled with love as you spoke and sat his drink down. “thank you beautiful.” even though pda wasn’t typically allowed, jj sat you in his lap and fed you some of your shared funnel cake. “taste good?” you nod. “wonderful.”

“how many more games do you wanna play baby?” he asked.

“ou ou! can we do one of those car games and we should do the go kart racing! and after that laser tags and then-” he cut you off immediately. “alright baby let’s just go and you can lead me to anything you want to do next.” you squealed in excitement. “let’s go!”

after another two hours, jj took you home and you both shared a shower. “finally! i’m so happy to be home i’m tired.” you yelled. “not done yet baby, i’m takin you out to dinner.”

“haha funny joke jj, you’ve spent enough money.”

“not a joke. i rented the whole restaurant just for us so we’re doing this.” you rolled your eyes. “fine jayj.” you and jj’s lips connected in the shower, sharing a passionate kiss. “mm love you.” he mumbled into the kiss. “love you more sweetie.” i reach down to stroke your hardening cock. “do y’like that baby?”

“i love it ma. cmon keep goin.” jj broke the kiss and buried his face into your neck, letting out needy whimpers. “my baby, you’re being such a good boy for me.” jj lets out another whimper, grabbing onto your plump ass. “fuck baby.. i can’t- i won’t last much longer.” you sped up your movements, cupping his heavy balls and squeezing just right. “f-fuck baby shit!” jj moaned into your neck, erratically thrusting into your fist.

with one more squeeze to his balls, jj came undone. in a swift movement, jj slipped his throbbing cock into your wet folds, his tip kissing your entrance. he pushed forward. “fuck baby i’m so sorry i need this..” you nodded happily and squeezed jj’s throbbing cock in more and more until he came, hard. he held you close while he emptied his load inside of your greedy cunt. “that’s a good boy.” cmon, we gonna get ready!”

“ma! i want you to cum though!” suddenly, jj felt your walls clamp down hard on his cock, realizing you did in fact cum. he moaned loudly and came one more time, giving you one more greedy load. “fuck baby, best sex i’ve had.”

“take it you liked it?”

“fuck yeah i did. now get ready for me, wear that red dress in your closet.”

you nod, putting the dress on after you get out of the shower. once you stepped out, jj looked at you in awe. “fuck yes baby! you look amazing! come on! i have so much shit planned for us.”

as you arrived at the restaurant, you immediately cling onto jj. “hey sweet girl, you’re alright.” he coaxed. he started to lead you to your seats and you both ordered. “pops is out of town again, so i can have you over and cuddle you.”

“exactly what i needed jayj.”

you and jj talked about random things for an hour, eating your food and happy overall, until he dropped a bombshell.

“so sweetheart.” he started. you turned your attention to him, letting him caress your thighs. “i didn’t think there was any better way to do this. i want you to be my girlfriend baby. the real deal, not this ‘friends with benefits’ shit. i need you, i need you like i need to breathe air or whatever they say. i just know… i just know that i’m in love with you and you’re where i belong, so will you make me the happiest man on this earth and allow me to be your boyfriend?” to your surprise he pulled out a small diamond ring. “now this, cost me my whole paycheck and more but it was overall worth it. and i think nobody deserves happiness more than you do.”

you cried pure happy tears. you threw yourself in his arms and cried. “i would love that! i want you to be mine!” jj captured your lips in a slow, sensual kiss. he poured his love and devotion into the kiss. “i love you so much.” jj muttered. “and i love you more maybank. always and forever.” with that, you leaned into the kiss more, celebrating your new love with the man you always dreamed of.

__________________________________________________________

taglist: @sturniologirlzz @sturns-mermaid @aaliyahsturniolo @ethanthequeefqueen @sophand4n4 @kieeslove @chalahyung01 @bee-43 @superlegend216 @masongetinmybed @eddxemxnson @always-reading @maybankslover @leaseyes @glitterybombshell @slut4rafecameronn @sttaejoon-blog @imsiriuslyreal @coalicionees

a/n: lmk if you guys want a fic of them getting married (like a time skip 3 years later & they get married & have a child) but yeah lmk if you want that in a few days!

more bsf!jj x sweetheart!reader here!

__________________________________________________________

[ghastlyfilters]

Hi! Saw you were taking Lost Boys requests...

I have a lot of silly concepts or ideas but my favorite is poly!Lost boys with a partner (I usually prefer fem reader but whatever ur comfy with is all good) who loves stealing some of their older clothes. Like, reader is smaller than them so the clothes are really comfy. Especially the older stuff cus decade+ old fabric is so soft.

reader stealing the lost boys’ clothes!!

pairing(s): implied poly!lost boys x fem!reader

warning(s): aside from paul and marko definitely paying attention to your curves, none!!

(now if i was the reader here i know damn WELL i would be stealing their clothes too. each one of their styles is literally perfection and to see that shit on vampires? HELLO? also i may have gotten a bit too carried away with thinking about all their clothing designs.. but thanks for this cute request<3)

gifs not mine! (if you know the original owner please tag them!)

HEADCANONS

• Stealing your boys’ clothes is by far the EASIEST thing anyone could do. The reason being? They quite literally never change out of the fits they’ve had on since 1987.

• The boys don’t have much of a scent, seeing as they’re all undead. So a washing machine doesn’t exist in their little world anymore. Which means they will now forever be outfit repeaters.

More fun for you. 

• All of the boys have the most random shit scattered around the cave. They’re the worst hoarders you have ever encountered. Cough cough.. Paul.. cough cough..

• But the amount of clothes they have laying around is shocking. Boots, band tees, jackets, jeans, leather trousers, gloves, shirts, man you name it. They have it. Every fucking decade.

• The band tees are by far your favourite thing to run around with. Paul has a shit ton of Môtley Crüe tees, and Dwayne has so many shirts with The Doors on them. (Jim’s face is literally everywhere in the cave now. They sure as hell ain’t Christians, so if they’re selling their souls to anyone it’s the horned god below or their icon Jim Morrison.)

• They did let you away with wearing their old band tees until Marko told the boys about EBay.

When Paul found out a vintage Mötley Crüe tour shirt was going for over a grand, the mf was ecstatic..

So much so, he decided to put his own vintage Mötley tees up for bidding.

“Two thousand… three thousand.. FOUR THOUSAND… FIVE THOUSAND FUCKING DOLLARS!!!”

Poor Paul’s bubble was burst however when David told him there was absolutely nothing they could do with the money aside from unlimited Chinese food for the next few months.

• David’s old clothes are much different from what the others have. He was the first to be turned, therefore he’s lived throughout the most eras.

• He’s got a LOT of leather jackets and trenchcoats. Paul and Marko always joke about him being Jack the Ripper, but you see a different side to his style. There’s been many nights you actually sat down with him and asked where he’d gotten the majority of his old items. Some were by Spanish designers that had been gifts from Max whenever he’d provided David with different clothing, others were from when David had fed off multiple store owners and casually picked out what he fancied afterwards.

• It saddens you that he doesn’t wear any of these anymore. The only reminder he ever gets of them is when you put on the soft wool Trenchcoats that go right down to your ankles, almost looking like a cape. Marko makes mini conspiracy theories that maybe you’re the real Dracula.

• Dwayne’s load of clothes is FILLED with leopard print designs. He’s been a 70s boy even all these years later, and he misses that era so dearly.

• There’s this one satin leopard print shirt that actually fits you quite well in his eyes. It’s still a little baggy.. yet oddly attractive to him. You’ve claimed it as your own now, wearing it like a pj set.

• Aside from the satin shirt, literally nothing else Dwayne has fits you. He’s a muscular guy.. and a vampire. So trying to get his baggy ass clothes to even have a slight loose fit is not for the weak 😭

• Marko however, this is where the real fun begins. You can borrow anything from Marko.. ANYTHING.. and it’s guaranteed to fit.

• He was a big crop top collector. When he used to find a good shirt that wasn’t cropped however, he’d cut it up and make it into a crop top himself. And these are what he adores you wearing. They cling nicely to your curved body, and whenever you wear them you can never get both Paul and Marko to stop staring at your breasts. Assholes.

• Marko’s clothes are by far your favourite pieces out all the boys. Much like the crop tops, he really enjoyed designing all his other outfits when he wore them. And he was pretty damn good at it too. Marko can be a crafty little thing when he wants to be. He’ll even help you design your own outfits too! He’ll cut, sew, stitch, glue, draw, paint, anything you want Marko to design, he’s down. He took so much pride in his unique outfits back in the day. And if you want yours spiced up, Marko’s your man.

• You wear his old belts a lot. One time, you were rummaging through the boys’ old stuff again, and immediately fell in love with this black latex belt Marko had. He’d drawn on perfectly shaped skulls with a white acrylic pen, and added different studs around the buckle. Ever since that day, Marko pretty much customises everything you own now.

FIRST TIME WRITING FOR THE LOST BOYS!! hope you all enjoyed these headcanons and my requests are open for any lost boys related ideas you may have!! <33

[milfsloverblog]

Hii!! I have a Larissa x reader request. Larissa is in her late forties, has a shit ton of money (cause that woman screams money) and she's also a tad lonely, so she decides to find herself a sugar baby and that's where reader comes in, they are broke, almost finishing college and in need of quick money. I really just need this woman to pamper me with money and love and good sex, lots of mommy kink and out of the bedroom dominance pretty pleeeeeaaassseeee

Secret Benefits (NSFW)

Part 1. (Next part)

Larissa Weems x fem!reader

A/N: Anon, I loved this request so much I’ve decided to turn it into a multiple chapter fic. We’re mostly setting the scene in this chapter, but I added a tiny bit of smut. Thanks for the request, enjoy!! <3

You didn’t feel very proud as you clicked on the “sign up” button on the app your best friend told you about. You typed in your information - Name, age, height, weight, eye and hair colour. It did feel like you were only a product to be bought but it was what you were looking for, after all.

You filled in the “looking for” section - women, preferably. You didn’t care much about height or weight or anything like that, really, although you hoped you would be able to at least find someone attractive. But you couldn’t afford to be too picky.

It did feel like signing up for a normal dating app until you reached the “monthly income” criteria. This was by far the most important criterion, the one that had led you to this website, and yet you didn’t know what to answer. You stared at your phone screen for a moment before eventually typing in “Minimum $3500”. It felt like a correct amount, enough for someone to take care of themselves and you as well.

You uploaded a few pictures, a couple of selfies and one where your whole body was visible. You probably would have more chance of quickly finding someone if you uploaded a more revealing picture, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Not yet.

You took a deep breath and clicked on the button that would make your profile public, watching the message that popped up on your screen - Welcome to Secret Benefits, the number one sugar dating app in America.

Your profile had only been public for a few minutes when you received your first like and inbox message. A man saying he would pay you a thousand dollars a week and didn’t want anything in exchange, only to chat with you. Your friend had warned you about this kind of scam so you simply rolled your eyes and reported the profile.

Browsing through the app you quickly realised that most people on there were men over forty searching for a pretty thing to parade around with. You knew it was the whole point of this app and those kind of relationships, but still.

It felt like you had been scrolling for hours when a profile finally caught your eye. Larissa, 48. Her picture was what first caught your attention. The woman was half-turned from the camera, holding a glass of red wine in her hand. Her white hair was tied in an intricate updo, her lips painted with a crimson red that matched her nails and her blue eyes fixed on the camera as if she had caught the photographer in the act of taking her picture. It almost felt like she was looking right at you. She looked beautiful.

You clicked on her profile, hoping to learn more about the woman. You read her body description, eyes widening when you reached the height criteria and read that she was 6’3. She looked like the type of woman who enjoyed wearing heels and you felt dizzy at the thought of a two metres tall woman towering over you.

You noticed that she had picked “Unspecified” for the monthly income. You weren’t sure what that meant exactly. Was she wary about sharing her income? Strange, given the kind of app you were on. Or perhaps she was old money. She did look wealthy, the kind of woman who would have grown up in a rich family and inherited it all.

She had listed a few of her interests in her bio. Art, luxury fashion and haute couture, feminism. There was a single sentence written underneath, one that had your breath hitch in your throat.

“I call myself a hedonist, I seek utmost pleasure in everything I do.”

And that was enough to have you hooked. You didn’t care about the other thousands of profiles on the website anymore. You only cared about her. Larissa, her sapphire eyes and crimson lips, her hedonistic lifestyle and promise of utmost pleasure, and most importantly - her money.

You clicked on the little heart next to her profile picture, like your friend had told you to do. Now you were supposed to wait and see if the woman would like your profile in return. You could have sent a private message straight away, but your friend said it was better not to, it would make you look too desperate. I am desperate, you thought.

It was only hours later, when you were freshly out of the shower and about to get into bed, that your phone pinged and you quickly grabbed it to check the notification.

Larissa liked you back! The start of a beautiful story?

You stared at the notification for a minute, what were you supposed to do now that she had actually liked you back? You weren’t even expecting to get that far when you signed up.

You sat down in bed still wrapped in your towel and took a deep breath. How were you even supposed to engage in a conversation with a woman like her?

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard for a while. Everything you could think of sounded lame and you even considered calling your friend for some advice but it would have just been embarrassing.

You: Hi there! I came across your profile and was very intrigued by your sophistication and the way you described yourself. How has your day been?

That wasn’t too bad. At least you hadn’t sent a cheesy pickup line.

The little “seen” quickly appeared under your message and you bit your lip in anticipation.

Larissa: Good evening! Thank you for reaching out. My day's been quite busy with work, but I'm always up for interesting conversations. How was yours?

Okay, she had answered. She had liked you back and she had answered. Great, it was great.

You: I'm glad you're taking the time to chat. My day's been mostly filled with classes and hanging out with my friends, a normal day in the life of a college student haha. What do you do for work?

Larissa: I’d rather keep my work private, at least for now. But I promise I’m not doing anything illegal! College student, what do you study?

Well, that was a bit strange, although you could see why someone wouldn’t want to share their work field on this kind of app, there was no doubt those arrangements could ruin some people’s lives.

You: Sure, no worries! I study marketing. It’s not always easy but I enjoy it for the most part. I’m really curious about what brings you to this app?

The message was read almost instantly but it took the woman a few minutes to answer. Was she hesitant? Searching for the right words?

Larissa: I appreciate your curiosity. I'm mostly looking for a mutually beneficial arrangement where we can both enjoy each other's company and experiences. What about you? What are you looking for on here?

A mutually beneficial arrangement, that was certainly one eloquent way to put it.

Larissa: I'm seeking someone who can support me as I navigate my studies. I live on my own and have a job on the side but it’s getting really hard to finance everything alone. Plus, I think having someone older in my life, someone with more experience, could only be beneficial. It’s all about benefits and enjoying the finer things, isn’t it?

Larissa: It is! I suppose it’s the main reason why so many young women are on this app. Tell me, what do you enjoy doing in your free time?

You: Well, I honestly don’t really get much free time. But I like to sit down with a nice book whenever I can. I enjoy going for walks and I could spend hours in the kitchen cooking and baking. What about you? Any favourite ways to unwind?

Larissa: I don’t get much free time either if I’m being honest. I’m a busy woman. I do enjoy sitting by the fireplace with a book and a glass of red, one of life’s simple pleasures. I love exploring art galleries, trying out new restaurants and I sometimes, although very rarely, indulge in spa retreats.

Spa retreats? These things cost a fortune! You were lucky if you could indulge yourself in a night out with your friends!

The two of you kept exchanging for a while. You learnt that Larissa was British, that she had moved over here for her studies. She loved travelling, had been to many places around Europe and was a big fan of French cuisine. She felt like the kind of woman you could listen to for hours without ever getting bored.

It was getting late, your eyes were practically closing themselves and you knew you would be absolutely exhausted in the morning, but you didn’t want the conversation to end.

You had been talking for nearly two hours when the woman asked if you had ever dined at Ambrosia, a restaurant way out of the centre of Jericho. You snorted loudly as you searched the restaurant on Google and realised it was a gastronomic one. Did she really think you could afford that kind of place?

You: No, I’ve never been there. But I’ve just googled it and it looks like a nice place!

Larissa: It’s my favourite restaurant in Jericho, I think I must have tried everything on the menu by now. Would you like to join me there for dinner, let’s say on Saturday night?

Saturday night? You quickly checked your schedule, you were working at the bar that day.

You: I would love to, I really would love to, but I’m working that day and I can’t miss a shift…

Larissa: If it’s about the money, you don’t need to worry. Call your work tomorrow, let them know they will need to find someone to fill in for you on Saturday.

You swallowed thickly. What if this was some joke? What if you showed up at the restaurant and she wasn’t there? You would miss your shift, and lose money for nothing. But if she did show up…

You: Fine, I’ll call in the morning. What time should we meet at the restaurant?

Larissa: 6.30 pm? If you give me your address I will have a car sent for you. However, I understand if you feel wary about giving that kind of information to a stranger.

You did feel more than wary about giving her your address. For all you knew it could be some creep hiding behind that profile. But if you didn’t take the leap, you might miss a great opportunity. So you did it, you sent Larissa your address and thanked her for wanting to send a car.

Larissa: Thank you, darling. The car will pick you up at 6. I should probably let you get to bed now, I wouldn’t want you to fall asleep during one of your classes. Thank you again for reaching out, it’s refreshing to connect with you.

You: Thank you, Larissa. Likewise, I enjoyed our conversation. See you on Saturday!

You closed the app and took a deep breath. You were insane, absolutely deranged. Who in their right mind would agree to something like this so quickly? You groaned and pulled the duvet over your head. You’d think about this later, all you wanted at that moment was to sleep.

-

Saturday couldn’t come quickly enough. Your friend had asked you if you’d had any luck on the app yet and you lied, telling her that no one seemed interested in you yet. Maybe you would tell her about your meeting with Rissa once it’d be done. Maybe.

You had exchanged a few more messages with Larissa the next day, just to keep in touch and let her know that you were looking forward to meeting her, and so was she.

The doorbell of your flat ringing woke you up early on Saturday morning. You quickly threw on some pyjamas and went to open, your eyebrows shooting up when the courier handed you a big cardboard box.

“What the hell?” You whispered to yourself as you placed the box down on your coffee table.

You grabbed a knife from the kitchen drawer and carefully cut the tape, holding your breath as you opened the box. There was a small note on top of something wrapped in gold tissue paper.

I picked you an outfit for tonight, I had to guess your size using your pictures but I’m pretty certain it will fit. I suggest wearing a pair of black heels with it. See you tonight, darling.

-Larissa

You had to read the notes a few times to make sure you weren’t just making things up. She had picked you an outfit, really? Did she think you couldn’t dress up on your own? Well, to be fair you weren’t sure you had anything chic enough in your wardrobe, but still.

You carefully opened the tissue paper and your breath hitched as you unfolded the black slip dress that she had picked for you. The silk fabric felt incredibly soft under your fingertips and the lace trim on the neckline was beautiful.

“Simone Rocha.” You read the tag out loud. The name did ring a bell somewhere in your mind, was that a designer dress? Well, at least now you knew the woman was serious about taking you out for dinner tonight.

You were about to close the box when you noticed there was something else in there. You picked it up, eyes growing wide at the sight of a burgundy thong. It was beautiful. Made out of lace and embroidered with floral details, it probably cost more than your whole underwear drawer.

You bit your lip looking at the two items of clothing in your hands. Maybe you could get used to this lifestyle.

-

The car sent by Larissa arrived at your place at 6 pm sharp. You quickly put on your heels, fixed your lipstick, and took a last look at yourself in the mirror. The dress fitted you like a glove and you had rarely felt that beautiful in a piece of clothing, you looked expensive.

Hundreds of thoughts were rushing through your brain as you sat in the back of the car and absentmindedly looked outside the window.

And suddenly it hit you - would Larissa be expecting sex from you? Your eyes widened at the possibility. You had not talked about this. Sure, the woman had said she wanted someone to spend time with, but spending time with someone could mean a lot of things!

You were almost thinking about changing your mind and going home when the car pulled over and the driver let you know that you’d reached your destination. You took a look at the building outside and swallowed thickly. There was no going back now.

You thanked the driver and stepped outside, taking a deep breath of fresh air. You were halfway to the restaurant door when you heard your name being called, causing you to spin on your heels.

“Larissa?” You asked as your eyes landed on the woman walking towards you. She looked just like her picture - tall, elegant, beautiful.

“Yes!” She smiled and nodded.

Noticing that she looked you up and down, you allowed yourself to do the same. She was wearing an emerald fitted dress that perfectly hugged her waist and hips. Her legs had to be the longest you’d ever seen, they seemed to go on and on until you finally reached the silver heels that were on her feet.

“It’s nice to meet you.” You smiled back, feeling a bit awkward and not knowing what to say.

“Likewise.” Larissa answered and pulled the door open to let you in, her hand falling on the small of your back as she followed you inside.

Everything inside the restaurant reeked of wealth. The high ceiling, the polished wood floor and the leather seats. You were out of place and you felt like everyone around you knew it.

“Miss Weems, good evening!” A waiter flashed the woman a bright smile. “Your usual table?”

“Good evening, Adam. Yes please, the usual.” Larissa nodded and her hand on the small of your back gently pushed you, signalling for you to follow the waiter.

You sat down at the table and could immediately tell why it was Larissa’s favourite table. It was at the back of the restaurant, in a quieter space, and it had a perfect view of all the other tables.

The waiter brought the menu almost immediately and made a few suggestions as he poured two glasses of water. You could feel the older woman staring at you as you opened the menu and flipped through the pages. Everything was expensive, a whole three-course meal in this place would cost as much as your biweekly grocery budget. It was insane.

“Anything tempting you?” Larissa smirked, a strange glint in her eye.

“Um…Yes, yes there is a few things that sound really good.” You nodded and pushed an awkward smile.

“The dress suits you perfectly. You picked the perfect shoes to go with it.”

A blush crept up your cheeks hearing the compliments and you pushed out a shy “thank you”.

“Are you wearing everything that I picked?” Larissa asked, her head slightly tilting to the side.

Her eyes briefly dropped to your chest - no bra, that was the right choice for this kind of dress. Larissa was pleasantly surprised. She had purposefully chosen not to include a bra in the package but she wasn’t sure if you’d wear one of your own.

“Yes,” Your cheeks turned a deep red, not far from the colour of the thong you were wearing. “I’m wearing everything you picked. Thank you, by the way, I loved your selection.”

Larissa’s nostrils flared and she let out a satisfied hum, looking up when Adam reappeared by your table.

Larissa went first, there were far too many French words in her order for you to understand properly, but you enjoyed hearing her accent. It was like honey dripping from her lips. When you snapped out of your thoughts, the waiter was looking down at you expectantly. You opened your mouth to place your order only to be cut off by the tall woman’s voice.

“She will have the seared foie gras as an entrée, followed by the filet mignon - medium rare - with grilled asparagus, and the passion fruit mousse for dessert.” Larissa said, her sapphire eyes looking at you above the menu.

Your mouth dropped open. First, she had picked your whole outfit down to your panties, and now this. I want control, she had told you in one of her messages. You hadn’t really understood what it meant at that time, but you did now. You would never admit how turned on you were as you closed your menu and handed it back to the waiter who gave a polite nod and walked away from your table.

“You’re staring, darling.” Larissa pointed out, making you close your mouth and look away for a second.

“Sorry, I-“

“You weren’t expecting that?”

“Yeah…”

Larissa let out a soft chuckle and reached out, crimson nails taking hold of your chin to make you look at her.

“When we meet, if we meet again, I would like to be in charge of those things.” She simply said.

“In control, you mean?”

The woman’s nostrils flared again and she gave a small nod.

“Yes, in control. I do enjoy knowing you��re wearing something that I picked for you, that you will be tasting what I want you to taste.”

There was something almost erotic in the way she said it, something that sent a shiver down your spine and had your eyes dropping to the woman’s lips, watching them curve in a smirk.

“I wanted to ask-“ You mustered the courage to say. “If you would be expecting…more than just my company.”

“Sex?” The word sinfully rolled from her tongue.

“Yes.” You let out in a whisper.

“Would you like to have sex with me?”

Maybe.

“No.” It instinctively slipped from your mouth. “This is not the kind of arrangement I’m looking for.”

“Well, then I’m not expecting sex from you, no.” Larissa simply answered. She seemed sincere, like she really had not been expecting anything more than your company.

What if you had said yes, though? Would she have sex with you if you ever changed your mind? You swallowed thickly at the thought and picked up your glass, taking a couple of sips of water.

Larissa asked about your day and if you could explain what your studies consisted of, which you happily did. You told her about economics, and how you had learnt about analysing consumers and competitors. You were sure that it was boring, having to listen to these things when you weren’t involved in marketing, and yet Larissa’s eyes never left you. She gave a nod here and there, and asked more questions when something wasn’t fully clear to her. She seemed genuinely interested in you, and it felt nice.

“Thank you, Adam.” Larissa smiled when the entrées were placed on the table.

You looked down at your plate, it was beautifully presented and smelled incredible. What was it again?

“Seared foie gras,” Larissa said as if she could read your mind. “Enjoy, darling.”

“Thank you, enjoy!” You answered and picked up your fork to try the foie gras. You remembered having tasted it once, years ago at a wedding. But it didn’t taste this good in your memory.

Larissa watched your every move. She watched you push the fork inside your mouth, how you closed your eyes when the food filled your tastebuds. The foie gras was exquisite, the woman knew it, and she relished in the pleased hum that escaped you.

“What do you think?” She said, eager to hear your thoughts.

“It’s delicious, thank you for picking it.” You answered honestly, causing Larissa to let out a shuddering breath. Was she getting off on this?

The rest of the meal went smoothly. Larissa seemed determined to keep most of her life private, only answering a couple of your questions, often with well-thought answers that wouldn’t give out too much. It seemed like she enjoyed hearing you talk about yourself, though, for she asked you question after question throughout the evening.

“Thank you for tonight, Larissa.” You said when the two of you walked out of the restaurant. She had paid for the whole bill and, even though you had expected it, it still brought a blush to your cheeks.

She wrapped her arm around your shoulder and pulled you closer against her, walking with you towards her car. She had convinced you to let her drive you back to your flat, although it hadn’t taken much for you to agree to it.

You sat down in the passenger seat of her Chevrolet and stayed quiet as Larissa turned on the engine and drove away from the restaurant. A silence fell between you, it was a bit uncomfortable until the older woman turned the radio on and a familiar new wave song filled the car.

Larissa softly hummed along to the tune and her hand moved to rest on your leg, just above your knee, her thumb soothingly rubbing your skin. You didn’t think you would love it as much as you did, but her hand was warm against your flesh and it simply felt right.

“I think we’ve arrived.” Larissa said as she pulled over in front of your flat.

“Mm? Oh, yeah, yes!” You nodded taking a look outside. You had been lost in your thoughts for the entirety of the ride.

Larissa leaned over and pulled something from the glove compartment before handing it to you. It was a small golden envelope with your initials handwritten on it.

“For your missed shift.” She smiled and placed the envelope in your hand.

“Thank you.”

“Mhm. Now go, get some rest.” She purred. “I will text you later.”

“Goodnight, Larissa.” You bit your lip, hesitating for a second before eventually placing a kiss on the woman’s cheek.

“Goodnight, darling.” She squeezed your thigh and watched you step out of her car, waiting until you were inside the building before she drove away.

You closed the door behind yourself and let out a breath you didn’t know you had been holding. It had gone…surprisingly well. Larissa was truly charming, she was intelligent, eloquent, and wealthy. And she was breathtakingly beautiful.

You stepped out of your heels and walked through your flat, dropping the envelope on the kitchen counter before you made your way to the bathroom for a well-deserved shower.

Thoughts of the older women flooded your mind as soon as you stepped under the hot water jet. Was she home already? What was she doing? Had she enjoyed her evening? You were pretty sure that she had. More than once you had caught her pupils dilating as you thanked her for what she had picked for you, whether it was the food or the clothing. Was she thinking about you right now like you were thinking about her?

Would you like to have sex with me? - her voice echoed through your mind and you whined, dropping your hand between your legs. There was a sense of urgency in the way you fucked yourself as you thought of Larissa being in control of you, your food, your outfit - God, you’d probably let her take control of your whole being if she asked for it.

“Fuck- Larissa!” Her name rolled from your tongue as you reached your climax, leaving you panting heavily against the shower wall. It was depraved, you thought, fucking yourself thinking of a woman you had just met.

The same thought crossed Larissa’s mind as she slowly pulled her fingers out of herself, pushing them between her lips to lick them clean. It was depraved, but you had looked so good in the dress she’d picked for you and you had been so thankful all night long.

The tall woman opened a kitchen drawer, pulled a cigarette out of it, and lit it while she poured herself a glass of red with her other hand. It usually was either one or the other, but tonight she really needed both. Larissa was hooked, she couldn’t help herself, she loved taking care of a pretty thing.

You grabbed the envelope from the counter on your way to bed, opening it once you had settled down under the duvet. Two hundred dollar bills fell on your lap, making your eyes widen. This was almost double what you’d have made for your shift tonight. You bit your lip and put the money back into the envelope before shoving it inside your bedside table. Maybe you could get used to this, spending time with a beautiful woman and being paid for it. What was that thing she said? Ah, yes, to seek utmost pleasure.

———————————————————————

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[queenshelby]

Auctioned (P. 1)

Pairing: Dark!Thomas Shelby x Virgin!Reader/OC

Warning: Darkish Themes, Prostitution, Smut, Eventual Loss of Virginity, Dubious Consent, Corruption, Destructive Behavior, Massive Age Gap

Notes: Damn, I had this in my drafts for a while but could not publish it as I was a little afraid about how it would be perceived. Also this is the first time I used an OC, so be gentle with me.

The rain fell relentlessly, a steady rhythm that matched the pounding of Y/N's heart as she walked down the dimly lit streets of Small Heath.

It was a neighbourhood perpetually caught in the grip of shadows, where whispers of danger cascaded through the air like an ominous secret.

Clutching her coat tighter around her trembling form, Y/N navigated the labyrinthine alleyways towards her destination. The wind howled, carrying with it a sense of desperation that seemed to echo her own.

After mere minutes of walking down the street, the brothel she had worked at as a waitress for the past two years stood ominously before her, its ornate facade a stark contrast to the gritty reality of its surroundings.

It was a daunting place she had visited many times before. Both of her sisters worked there, and it was Y/N's eldest sister who had orchestrated tonight’s ordeal.

When Y/N was only sixteen years old, her eldest sister told her not to give away her innocence lightly as, according to her, a woman’s virginity was a commodity these days. Men were willing to pay much money for it, and six months after Y/N turned eighteen, she decided to partake in one of the brothel’s first-ever auctions.

“There are many men here tonight and you are the only virgin” Y/N's sister told her, causing Y/N to cringe but remain silent. “In three months’ time Em, we will be debt-free” her sister then reassured her as rumors of illicit dealings and forbidden desires swirled around the brothel’s walls, warning Y/N and the two other girls partaking in tonight’s events to tread with caution.

Y/N's determination propelled her forward though nonetheless, into the grand hall of the establishment and, albeit with trepidation lingering in every step, she pushed through her anxiety. The weight of her decision bore down on her shoulders now, the knowledge that she had offered her innocence for sale causing a knot of guilt to form in the pit of her stomach.

Pushing open the heavy wooden doors, the creaking sound reverberated through the room, capturing the attention of its mysterious clientele, including men that were twice and three times Y/N's age.

Seeing them, gave Y/N second thoughts. She disappeared again into the back of the room, telling her sister that she was unsure as to whether she could go through with this and, once again, her sister reminded her of what was to come if she did not.

“Trust me Em, it is better to fuck one guy for a few months than a ton of them for years. You will have money once your time is up. It will be worth it” her sister told Y/N, who reluctantly nodded.

The deal was to give up her virginity and three months of her life to the highest bidder and in the brothel’s owner’s opinion, such offering was going to attract a bid of at least one-thousand pounds.

One thousand pounds was more than Y/N could make in five years, thus she agreed, setting herself up for a good life of her own.

***

Glancing through one of the open doors again, Y/N saw that the auction room was illuminated by dim candlelight, casting elongated shadows across the velvety red curtains that framed the stage.

Many men were still arriving, taking their seats and talking with each other. Y/N could count at least fifteen thus far and were astonished by the fact that all these wealthy men were prepared to pay for her inexperience.

Then, a hushed silence fell over the crowd as another man walked in and it was your sister who peaked through the crack in the door with you now, trying to ascertain what was happened.

“Oh shit” she said as she looked at the man who just walked in. His sharp features were framed by a weave of dark hair, blue eyes piercing the dimly lit room with a predatory intensity. This was Thomas Shelby - a figure whispered about in hushed tones, notorious for his criminal empire, and feared even by those who claimed to know him.

“Who is he?” Y/N asked nonetheless, curious about this handsome but intimidating-looking stranger.

“His name is Thomas Shelby. You would have heard of him?” Y/N's sister said, causing Y/N's chin to drop as, just like everyone else, she had indeed heard of him. He was often referred to as the king of Birmingham, a man whose name had become entwined with notions of danger and darkness. He had blood on his hands and was a career

Criminal who was so powerful that even the police did not stand in his way.

“It is time, come on” the owner of the establishment then said and, with trembling legs, Y/N walked into the room, accompanied by her sister.

All heads turned as Y/N's presence filled the room, but she did not take notice of anyone but him, secretly hoping for this stranger to make a bid.

Y/N's breath hitched as, within seconds, her eyes locked with those of this dangerous man, his icy blue orbs penetrating through her like a shard of glass. She felt exposed, vulnerable, as if he could see every secret she held close to her chest, every fear she carried.

Thomas smirked at her, his lips curling with a dangerous mixture of arrogance and charm. He adjusted his tailored suit with the precision of a man who commanded respect, his piercing gaze locked upon the platform where the auctioneer eventually prepared to begin, with you by his side,

The auctioneer's voice boomed through the room, shattering the silence like a crack of thunder.

"Ladies and gentlemen, tonight we present to you a rare opportunity. Up for sale to the highest bidder is this young woman's innocence and her services for three months, at a location of your choosing” the man announced and, immediately, whispers raced through the air, mingling with the pounding of hearts.

Eyes flickered from Y/N to Thomas and back again, playing a silent game of anticipation and curiosity. Y/N's cheeks burned with a mix of nervousness and defiance. This was her choice, her chance to take control of her own destiny and yet she hoped that, at least, someone she could be attracted to would become her bidder.

As such, Thomas Shelby was clearly the most attractive and intriguing man in the room and, whilst Y/N had heard tales of Thomas Shelby, the man who straddled the line between the law and the underworld, she was not afraid.

Thomas Shelby’s notoriety preceded him like a shadowy myth and, again, his lips curled into a barely perceptible smirk, his features a carefully crafted mask of unreadable intent. The flicker of amusement in his eyes danced with a darkness that weakened Y/N's knees.

Was here to bid, she wondered? Or was he for the show and the sheer absurdity of it all?

"Let us not waste any time," the auctioneer then continued, his voice dripping with a blend of excitement and intrigue.

"Bidding for Miss Y/N begins at five hundred pounds" the actioneer then announced and the crowd stirred, pockets of murmurs rising like a symphony of anticipation. The forbidden allure of Y/N's offer had captivated them all, and now they were hungry for the chase.

Thomas Shelby remained a silent observer, however. His eyes locked onto Y/N's form with an intensity that made her feel exposed. A shiver of uncertainty crawled up her spine, but she refused to falter. She had made her decision, and she would see it through to the end.

Then, the first bid pierced the air, followed swiftly by another and another. The numbers climbed higher, the desperation of the bidders mirrored in their furious gestures and sharp intakes of breath. From her vantage point on the stage, Y/N watched the faces blur together, a sea of greedy desire stretching out before her like a treacherous ocean.

Among the throng of potential purchasers, only one stood out to her still and this was Thomas Shelby. His eyes were unwavering and fixed upon her. Bids soared into the thousands, the clambering voices echoing through the rafters. In this room of twisted desires and hidden intentions, Y/N's worth was being calculated, her innocence commodified.

A sense of nausea swirled within Y/N's gut, the weight of what she was about to lose hitting her like a sucker punch. She knew the money would bring temporary relief, but the cost of her first time being handed over so coldly – it was a sacrifice she could never fully comprehend.

Biting her bottom lip, Y/N steadied herself, her gaze finding solace in the not-so-innocent eyes of Thomas Shelby across the room. She had set this chain of events in motion, and she would have to live with the consequences, whatever they may be. At last, the bidding war reached its peak, the crowd growing restless, each participant desperate to claim the illustrious prize. The air crackled with anticipation, a storm waiting to unleash its fury.

The auctioneer, sensing the crescendo, roared, "Going once, going twice..." The tension in the room reached a fever pitch, every person holding their breath, their gaze transfixed on the stage. And then, in an instant, Thomas Shelby's voice, low and commanding, cut through the silence like a knife.

"Ten thousand pounds" he said and the room gasped, a collective intake of breath that snaked its way through the assembled throng.

Thomas's bid was a declaration, a statement that he alone was the one who would possess her at a price that was much higher than any other bid before.

Y/N's heart pounded in her chest, her pulse reverberating in her temples. She locked eyes with Thomas, her voice trembling as she promised herself that she would not crumble beneath his intimidating presence even though he wanted her to, by simply looking at her.

"Sold to Thomas Shelby for ten thousand pounds!" the auctioneer's proclamation hung in the air, sealing Y/N's fate like a binding contract.

A mixture of relief and trepidation surged through her veins, her steps faltering as she descended from the stage, her composure teetering on the edge. Thomas approached her with a measured stride, his every move calculated and deliberate. He extended a gloved hand towards her, a pale contrast against the darkness that seemed to radiate from him.

"Y/N, is it?" he asked, his voice a low timbre that held a hidden power, causing in Y/N to nod silently.

"It appears you now belong to me" he then asserted and Y/N paused for a moment, feeling herself teetering on the precipice between freedom and captivity.

“It seems so” Y/N responded as she chose to swallow her fear and accepted his hand, their fingers intertwining in a pact that neither of them fully comprehended.

“Very well then” Thomas responded before he pulled her closer and Y/N felt the weight of his reputation settle upon her shoulders. The echoes of his criminal empire whispered around her, the unknown dangers lurking beneath the surface of this enigmatic man.

With every guiding step, Thomas led her out of the brothel and into the night, the rain washing away the remnants of her former life. The world around her seemed to fade into insignificance, her focus solely on the ruthless man who had claimed her as his own.

***

Eventually, they emerged onto the dark streets of Small Heath, the rain obscuring their silhouettes as they walked side by side. Y/N's nerves danced with a mix of apprehension and curiosity, her mind frantically searching for answers to the questions that suddenly enveloped her.

"You've heard of me, eh. So you know what I do?" Thomas stated, his voice cutting through the raindrops like a razor and Y/N hesitated to answer for a moment, her words momentarily catching in her throat.

"Yes. I have heard that you are dangerous," she finally admitted, the honesty laced with a touch of fear. A hint of a smile danced across Thomas's lips, his eyes narrowing with a blend of amusement and something darker.

"Dangerous, eh?” he chuckled. “Well, I suppose that is not entirely wrong. Although, one might argue that danger can be seductive” Thomas then asserted and Y/N absorbed his words, feeling a shiver run down her spine. She couldn't deny the magnetic pull she felt towards this enigmatic criminal, as if some inexplicable force drew them together despite the odds stacked against them.

"Why me?" she whispered, her voice barely above a breathy plea. The question hung in the air, mingling with the quiet patter of raindrops on the pavement. Thomas stopped abruptly, his grip on her hand tightening ever so slightly. His gaze bore into her, stripping away any pretence that either of them wore.

"Because I saw something in you that intrigued me. Despite, what kind of criminal would not want someone as innocent as you to corrupt, eh?" Thomas joked as the rain continued its relentless assault, washing away the remnants of Y/N's innocence and revealing a strength that had long lain dormant within her.

This journey was not just about the loss of her virginity – it was an awakening, a test of her own resilience. The intoxicating mix of danger, attraction, and the unknown propelled Y/N forward, her heart pounding in her chest like a wild creature. She had embarked on a journey into darkness, and she was determined to emerge on the other side, transformed.

[seikkoi]

ꜱᴜɢᴀʀ | dom!tony stark x sugarbaby!reader ( ᴄ��ɪᴍᴇ!ᴀᴜ )

ᴘᴀʀᴛ ꜰɪᴠᴇ [1, 2, 3, 4] | ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴏɴ ᴀᴏ3

There was nothing that could keep Tony from having exactly what he wanted—and he deserved a little sweetness in his life. All he had to do was keep from ruining you in the process.

content/warnings: 18+ minors do not interact. non-canon, non-superhero au, sub/dom undertones, slight emotional/verbal manipulation, obsessive + possessive behavior, age gap (reader described as mid-twenties, t.s as mid-forties), mildly dubious consensual situations, explicit mentions of alcohol and drug use, generally not for the light of heart, rough sexual content, reader described as petite word count: 9.8k

There isn’t any conversation surrounding Pepper’s visit, or the divorce, but it’s all around you regardless.

Random items disappear from the penthouse–a Pollock (your present takes its place), some throw pillows from the study, and a few Turkish ceramics you never knew existed. The phone rings far more than you care for. Tony has far more meetings than you care for. A bespeckled lawyer and his blonde associate nearly become housemates, spending hours behind the frosted glass door. Natasha makes a few appearances as well, which confuses you the most. You find the spice in her perfume too bold.

On her third exit in as many weeks, you question Tony on it. He absently traces patterns on your calves, seemingly not paying attention to you or the film on screen. 

“Should I be worried?” you hide your sincerity behind a glass of wine, twirling the stem between your fingers. The red liquid mirrors the motion inside, spidering against the walls.

“About Natasha?” he asks incredulously. 

“Yes,” you draw out, “and you–all of it, really.” 

“Now why on Earth would you be worrying about me?” 

You would love to point out the obvious and address the building-sized elephant in the room that says  ‘you’re recently sober and just got a divorce’ but the look on his face tells you it’s unnecessary. 

Tony finds a way to answer the unasked anyways. 

“It’s a shit ton of paperwork, and signing things, so it’s annoying, yes but I am fine. Scouts honor.” 

He kisses your hand and grins with all the confidence in the world. It’s so fucking arcane each time–close to magic in how it undos every worry and mirrors his gleam. 

You wished it had more permanent effects. Something long-lasting and memorable. Easy to spread over the evening and into the early morning hours, when he’s inconsolable in your arms. You could turn it back into magic words. Banish whatever miasma racked his body and go back to peaceful nights (because you had those at some point, right?).

Being able to ask the hard questions doesn’t mean shit if the answer’s always a dismissive work of fiction. You never learned what caused their separation, or sent ‘everything to shit’ as Tony put it. Not because you didn’t ask, no that question came the same night Pepper did.  Apparently it’s the same driver of every modern American divorce–money. Tony summarizes the event as a fatal disagreement over corporate shares, though like always you feel you’re being told an official story. Clean cut with all messy details chopped away. 

“You don’t have a signature stamp at this point?” you joke.

“Oh no,” Tony’s hands brace your ankles to pull you closer, “ every squiggle needs to be authentic and fresh.”

“Right, how could I assume anything less.” Your eyes roll but you let your legs drape over his lap. 

“Seriously, I’m doing fine–things will calm back down soon.” A gentle squeeze drives the point home. 

A thought crosses your mind. An insecurity, really, but one you haven’t let go since meeting Pepper.

“If it’s like, I don’t know,” you hesitate under Tony’s raised eyebrow, “–I can head back to my apartment if it’s too much.”

Stark Industries was still footing the bill even though you spent less than 10 hours there in the last two months. There’s a fear in overstaying your welcome, or whatever it is you were doing here. Either way, you figured it was less than ideal to have your girlfriend around during a divorce. 

“If what’s too much?” 

“I don’t know, if you need your space right now or–” you answer exasperatedly.

“Honey,” he gives a hearty laugh, “if I ever start asking for space, call a doctor.”

All resistance becomes futile.

You keep your apartment (for unnecessary security), but more time lapses between visits. You issue a long overdue farewell to bartending. Even being driven, the commute to that side of town is hellish and the whole thing got more pointless with each day. You drank in the fruits of this life, but not without a tiny bit of unease. It’s unease that you bury down under all the other feelings. The affection, the simplicity, the serenity. So you swap mixers for paintbrushes and solitude for the man you love. 

Other subtle changes require a quicker adjustment, but you’re getting dangerously good at adapting. With Tony’s birthday past, you recognize a pattern to Harley’s visits. Every three months like clockwork. You begin to anticipate them well enough, and start appreciating his occasional presence during your early morning tea. By his third appearance, you brew two cups.

On the first visit he barely utters a word. You were ready for some witty insult that never came, and offered him a cup in silence. You want to ask why he arrives so early just to sit in his father’s kitchen, but opt for peace instead. 

Once Pepper’s placard is gone in the parking garage and Natasha stops showing up (at all hours of the day, atleast), he’s there a second time. 

“How he’s doing with the,” he trails off, peering at you over an empty mug as the sun starts to break. He doesn’t need to motion at the empty space for you to pick up his meaning.

The official story is dancing on your tongue. The one you’ve told two times over at this point (Jarvis, Natasha). He's perfectly fine, better even. It was a piece of cake then, but now you can’t seem to look Harvey in the eye and speak in half-truths. 

“Honestly,” you sigh, “Good–not good, I don’t know.”  You were dying under  the irony of it all. Consoling Tony in the darkness of morning and then watching him make million dollar deals by noon. You don’t know how he’s managing any of it, and if any of this qualifies as okay. 

Green eyes blink slowly through an overgrown fringe. Barbers were clearly scarce in the last three months, wherever he spent them. Exhaustion forces a yawn before he speaks again, pinching his nose. 

“Figured as much.” Harley stands for the sink.

He goes through the labor of washing the ebony cup, a rare quirk amongst the obscenely rich. You’d learned they are very reliant upon their quiet servants. You wondered if he did it out of modesty or good manners.  

“Do you know why they separated?” If he was in the mood to talk about Tony, you weren’t going to pass up the chance.

“Uh, something with the company, her share or whatever. Always about the money with them.” he answers casually, tossing a look over his shoulder. 

It’s genuine enough, but all too similar to the rehearsed lines. You half-expected him to call you nosy. 

“No real loss there.” Harley adds, a hint of disdain in his voice

“Not a fan I take it?” The flimsy tag finally crumbling under your ministrations.

He chortles as he slumps back into the bar stool. 

“Pepper can be, uh,” A yawn and an eye rub take precedence, “overbearing, yeah that’s a good word for it.”

“Yeah, can’t imagine that worked well for Tony.” You murmur into your tea.

“Oh it most definitely did not.” Harley laughs again. “Not for a guy that does the opposite of whatever you tell him.”

His laugh is infectious (like father like son), and you smirk even though instead the mental picture makes you cringe. A lull passes between you. Outside, morning traffic begins, trickling upwards to interrupt the quiet. It cues Harley to get back to whatever it is he comes here to do, while you move on with the day. 

As an advantage of all the free time, you get to invest more time in your estranged friendships. Being around old friends turned out to be surprisingly good. You had anticipated more awkwardness, but there was something comforting about not having to wear a mask for once around someone besides your boyfriend. 

At this point, you slowly filled in a few close ones about your relationship with Tony. Clearly you were in this for the long haul, and keeping things under wraps was becoming futile. The general consensus was positive, thankfully. Obviously, that’s due to a great deal of details being omitted. The act left a sour taste in your mouth. Not from the content–how easy it was. You hated to repeat such behaviors, but it was less complicated this way. You wouldn’t have to labor through justifying your relationship, or hear concerns you didn’t already have. 

Tony’s reception was, oddly, less positive. He didn’t care much for your old ‘starving artist’ clique. He thought you should take advantage of his access to New York’s greatest–the real pioneers. It took little arguing from you for him to drop that thought entirely, and he conceded to just be happy to see you happy. 

Like good friends, they tease about your newfound love. One asks when they’ll get to meet ‘Mr. CEO’ and you have to brush it off casually. You like your worlds better separate. 

A sweltering autumn soon becomes frostbitten winter. This gives you less light to work with, resorting to find shuddering shoulders in complete darkness. You don’t think it’s worth searching for warmer pastures or a simpler life. No, you order a cashmere robe and get used to seeing by touch. 

Late nights in the tower turn out to be a great place to hone such skills. The halls are narrow and void of any windows, so you ghost the pads of your fingers around for customary shapes. A cushioned nook and a neglected book lull you into a nap one evening and you wake past the sunset. If you were able to sleep so late undisturbed, Tony must be preoccupied. You planned to tiptoe into the kitchen without a sound, but your ears catch words murmured behind the glass. The door is cracked slightly, just enough to let a streak of light breaks across the hardwood floor

“–fifteen, ten, maybe if we’re lucky.” 

The bespeckled man’s words are measured, precise as usual. You can almost picture his lips barely parting to utter syllables behind round-trim frames. 

“Jesus christ–the fuck am I paying you for? Because I am paying you, like a metric shit ton” 

At Tony’s voice, you press closer. 

“I’m not the idiot getting a divorce.”

“Okay, okay, let’s just stay focused here.” Natasha raises her voice above the two men, and you hear a chair drag across the office.

“Uh-uh, don’t think you’re getting off scot free–we wouldn’t even be having this conversation if you did your job a tad better too.” 

“I will say it was ‘lot easier to spread the financials between two people.” 

Social norms concerning privacy start to get to you, urging your feet to pivot and take you back upstairs. Your escape goes undetected, and you seek refuge in the shower. 

You wash the day away under warm jetstreams. Part of your mind is stuck replaying everything, wondering how he was handling it all, trying not to indulge in the urge to check the sink drawer. In a flash, you toss the thought away. It’s easy to not overthink at this hour. Especially when coconut vanilla soap tugs you back towards exhaustion. You make it back out to the bedroom, where you find Tony removing his shoes at the end of the bed.

He smiles at the crack of light from the bathroom. Tony’s days were getting longer while the rest of the hemisphere’s got shorter. He would say he missed when life was simple, but he can’t remember such a time. Life growing up was anything but simple, then the older he got the more it sucked out every ounce of his energy. Everything after became, well, everything after.

Picturing a new future keeps him going. One in a coastal city, something global like New York but much, much warmer. He fights the urge to picture your silhouette amongst the waves. It’s not guaranteed. He might find himself in this dreaded cycle all over again. Then his coconut scented fantasy would be tarnished. 

No, it’s better to cherish the present with you. Like right now, watching coconut scented water droplets descended down your legs and shoulders. Even though he knows he won’t be here long. Truly, he’d wish you weren’t awake,  knowing he’d have to leave soon.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” You teased, abandoning your towel as you pulled the dresser open.

He’s easy to rile up, and you know exactly what you’re doing–bending over slowly to pull your panties above your hips. You can’t help it when he stares like it’s his first time seeing you, every time. 

“Please don’t tempt me.” 

Tony’s voice is low, barely above a whisper. He’s unmoving on the edge of the bed, hands braced beside his thighs as his eyes follow the movements of your hands around lacy black fabric. Truly he’s perplexed. Who knew watching someone get dressed would be just as much of a turn-on. Or maybe it’s just you.

You toss one of his faded band tees on, and he thinks this might actually be better than any sun-soaked dream (it’s definitely just you). 

You cross the bedroom, the loose cotton brushing against your skin with each step. As you approach, you snake your arms around Tony's neck and straddle his lap. His large hands ghost up the smooth skin of your thighs, leaving a trail of warmth as they make their way to your back. The moment your skin touches his, Tony’s eyes lock onto yours, but you can tell his focus is elsewhere.

“What are you thinking about?” you ask softly, raking your hands through brown coils.

You assume his mind is still on the conversation downstairs, but the grin spreading on his face says otherwise. His lips move to pepper your exposed neck with kisses, still smiling.

“Really wanna know?” 

“Sure, hit me.”

The ghosts across your veins turn into full blown grazes. 

“You, in a bikini, drinking margaritas somewhere with no extradition laws.” 

You chuckle at the notion and swat his shoulder when his teeth find your pulse point. 

“Hey, you asked,” he laughs into your skin, gripping your hips tighter, “besides it’s your fault–’smell like I’m damn near there already.” 

Tony’s mouth turns hungrier and hungrier, moving feverishly across every exposed inch until the flesh is tender and you're panting in his lap. It’s just encouragement, so he doesn’t pause for a moment as his fingers slip behind your lace. They work at the wetness already ruining the fabric, dragging it across your length and making your shiver. 

Okay, sure, maybe another period of minimal alone time was getting to you, maybe. Sue me, you thought. Honestly, Tony should be more grateful to have such a willing partner–and you told him as much. Unfortunately, this elicited a need for Tony to instill a sense of gratitude in you.

In the next second, you're tossed onto your back, wrists pinned tightly above your head. His other hand pulls your panties down your legs and you try not to make a joke about the futility in getting dressed. Instead, you soak his weight against you, the roaming hand between your thighs and teeth on your neck. 

Marking you is the obvious goal-sucking harder with each breathy whimper. He wasn’t kidding earlier, either. You smelled good enough to devour and he intended on doing so. His danced along your folds, a cufflink scratching the supple skin at the top of your thigh.  They are never anywhere long enough to give you any real pleasure. Just to take more breath from your lungs and feeling from your legs. 

You squirm against vicuna dress pants, trying to gain more friction on his hand. Instead of catering to your needs, he stops all together and the noise you make is almost pathetic. Who are you kidding, it’s fully pathetic–it couldn’t have been over two weeks, and pleas can hardly form on your tongue for more. 

Tony reels back with a smirk that flips your stomach. A scheme is brewing behind darkened pupils. His eyes stay on you as his hand returns to your center, slow and heavy over your clit. 

He doesn’t relent when your wrists strain and hips buck against him. No, a tighter grip and knee over your hip hold you steady enough for his fingers to work faster. You want to chastise yourself for how much you missed this–then two fingers slide into you and there isn’t room to think of much else.

He moves quickly and silent, like a serpent, finding that perfect rhythm that makes your eyes flutter. Your soft moans fill the quiet space. He’s too steady, not changing a muscle as your peak comes closer. The most desperate you get, writing against his palm to get even one extra inch of depth, the slower he moves. 

“Did you have fun sneaking around?” 

Your eyes flutter open in the dim bedroom, Tony’s sly grin shining above you. It cuts straight through the fog of pleasure taking you over. 

“I don’t know what you’re–” you start to bluff. 

“You’re not very sneaky, you know? Or a good liar. That’s a particular skill set that you, my dear, sorely lack.”  Slow and teasing, he slides two fingers back into you.

“Okay, okay. Maybe I was eavesdropping a little.” He finally moves with purpose again, but of course not enough.

“A little? Let’s not start underrepresenting things, hm?” 

Before you can debate him further, he withdraws and you think you might honestly cry if this continues.

“Okay, point taken, would you please stop torturing me now?” 

“Now, why would I reward bad behavior?” he asked, lowering his gaze.

“If it helps, I wasn’t trying to.”

“It doesn’t.” 

His palms grip your hips, flipping you onto your stomach and lifting your waist upwards. The sudden movement leaves you breathless, searching for balance on your forearms until they’re pulled behind your back. 

“You know exactly which nerve to press, don’t you?” he breathes into the base of your neck, chest flush to your back as he hands work at his zipper.

How ironic, considering he spends the next hour tuning your body like an instrument. Knowing exactly where to press, where to ease off, until you finally unlock, bare and moaning into the mattress.

Afterwards, you fall asleep to the steady beat of his heart. 

You’re half way to sleep when Tony slinks out of your arms. At first, you don’t bother stirring. Then, the soft draw of the dresser catches your ear. 

You flip over onto your stomach to get a better view. You watch Tony’s shadowy figure attempt to quietly dress. For a rare sight, he abandons the tailored suit for dark Levis and a t-shirt. It hardly looks like him, in the best way possible (ignoring the obvious question of where the hell he planned on going in that. Less larger-than-life, more real. This, now this was someone you can imagine running into at the grocery store. The sharp edges of his suits always added a degree of gravitas to everything.

“Where are you off to?”

“Going to see a man about a horse.” 

He leans down for a bright smile and a quick kiss before he leaves, and you let sleep suppress any thoughts about what that could possibly mean.

You awake to a sun that has long outran the horizon. The sheer curtains were already pulled back, with the smell telling you Jarvis made a feast for breakfast. Tony’s side is empty. Which is no surprise there, but you don’t expect him at the kitchen table. 

He grins behind a newspaper as you approach. Jarvis is busy with the espresso machine, muttering curses under his breath. 

“Tell me, what are your thoughts on cyclamen–oo, or actually, narcissus, yeah, that’s better.” Tony asks like you've been having some sort of conversation before five seconds ago.

Jarvis clicks the tamper in with a satisfied click as you stare back confused. You’re two blinks away from falling back asleep and desperately craving something stronger than green tea. 

“What are you-Is-Are those restaurants?” 

“Oh, morning ma’am. Shall I prepare you a tea, perhaps breakfast?” Jarvis turns at the sound of your voice, wiping damp grounds from his hands.

“Good morning, but no, just some coffee, please.” You try to sound natural. It’s weird giving someone else orders. 

“Nope, flowers. We could do something simple like a peony but I don’t think that matches the whole vibe with the satin garlands.” Tony continues. 

“Tony, hon, I have no idea what you’re on about right now.” you groggily slouch in the chair beside him. 

“We, my dear,” the newspaper is folded and plopped onto the table for dramatic effect, “are having a Christmas party. The proverbial ‘we’ in this situation being the company, of course.” 

“A Christmas party?” you muse with a laugh.

“For tax purposes, a gala. For my purposes, and therefore to make it fun, it is indeed a party, yes.” 

Espresso warms your veins as you listen to Tony ramble through plans for catering, guests, decanters and a whole bunch of other shit you can hardly keep up with. Good thing that responsibility falls to Jarvis, who jots away on a worn notepad. Once your eyes fully open, the thought starts to excite you. Your yearly festivities normally boiled down to a bottle of chardonnay and some loosely Christmas film like Die Hard. “Plus, if I auction some art, it works out even more.” He punctuates his brilliant plan with a bite of a muffin. 

“That’s not like a massive trigger for you?” 

High-volume social events dropped off the radar recently, for good reason, you assumed (not that you minded a break from fake smiles and cold handshakes) . Instead, Tony dragged you along to more intimate dinners with whatever broker or councilwoman he needed to charm. Your role as plus-one never went anywhere, but doing so at Tony’s your home would give you more confidence. 

“What are you, my sponsor?” he teases but you're less amused at the thought. 

“You don’t even have a sponsor.” You know so, because Tony believes Narcotics Anonymous is a, quote, ‘sad-ass glorified tea party’. 

“I have Jarvis.” He’s completely serious, and Jarvis hides his laughter behind a stack of plates.  

You don’t want to point out the obvious cognitive dissonance. That a man who spends his nights in petrified somnolence might crack under the pressure of dozens of inebriated colleagues. Not now, in a moment of peace. Not in front of Jarvis. You’re not sure how much sound slips out into the hall.

Tony watches the worry creep over your face from the edge of his newspaper. With a sigh, he abandons it again.

“Look, all you have to do is look pretty–which is no sweat for you, maybe drink a few apple cider cocktails, and relax. I’ve got everything else perfectly handled.”

He gives you a look, both reassuring and decisive. It’s a simple message meant to be taken without debate, ‘trust me’. 

You get one more peaceful morning drinking tea in the dark with Harley before the holiday season.

The event overtakes your life from Thanksgiving onward. You really don’t know how this sudden festive fervor spawns, but it slowly creeps into everything. From the elevator music, to miniature elves by the door, to candy canes everywhere, and more Christmas ties than days in December (you can’t be sure he’s not switching them multiple times a day). 

You weren’t a total Grinch, not by a long shot. Tony just so happened to be creeping into that weird overly festive zone reserved for suburban moms and kindergarten teachers. 

“Tony, what’s all of this?”

Vivaldi plays faintly on the record player. There’s a delicately placed mistletoe just off of the elevator, accompanied with a haphazard trail of roses leading out onto the balcony. You navigate through a candlelight kitchen juggling a heavy box of resin. 

“Tony?” you call out again once the box makes contact with the counter,

“Out here!” 

You follow the voice and rose trail to the balcony. Unsurprisingly, he’s donning a god awful Christmas sweater, grinning and pointing to the wool like it’s runway fashion. A small table holds two covered silver platters, and a tall bottle of champagne rests in a bucket of ice. It’s the kind of overtly romantic display you’d gotten since night one, but it never fails to sink your breath straight in your heart. Something about the way he’s standing there, beaming like a nervous, lovestruck fool, tells you this isn’t just a normal gesture of affection.

Still, your lips part to thank him, but he stops you instantly. 

“Just wait–” he pleads, “I got like thirty minutes of practice into saying this and I can’t fuck it up.” 

His voice is rushed enough that you believe. Clearly the words were threatening to jump out of him. It sets you a bit on edge, trying to anticipate what this was about. You indulge him anyway and nod. 

Tony crosses the balcony to take your hands in his, thumb brushing over your knuckles. 

“Okay, I know things haven’t been copacetic around here. And I know I’ve asked for a lot–more than I ever thought I would–and you know sometimes it feels like I’ll never be able to return what you’ve given to me, but I swear I’m going to make this worth it.” 

He squeezes your palm, tired brown eyes searching yours for something, any sign that his words meant a single thing. It’s a fast-winded speech that makes you wanna laugh at the irony. Tony, the man who’d move the stars if they had a price tag, somehow feeling the need to repay you.  Yet his voice is raw like a frayed nerve. Exposed to the cold winds whipping against the tower glass. 

“Tony, you’ve made it more than worth it, everyday.” You smile, though it’s worth wondering what’s driving him to say all this. The words ring true regardless.

“Not nearly enough,” he says softly, “but I’m going to–I’m going to give you the world.”

In that moment, you see it: the weight of everything he’s been carrying. Your ribs seem to tighten inside your chest. That unspoken fear you’ve both been trying to avoid–it was far easier twenty seconds ago when you thought it was yours alone. You realize now that the fearless man you saw in fact was scared of something (losing you, primarily). Yeah, you comforted him through nightmares, but even then he managed to carry an aura of control.  

This wasn't about  holding onto the life you’ve built together, the one that’s felt so fragile lately. And for the first time, you see how much that matters to him, too.

He starts to say something else, dropping your hands. His fingers fiddle behind his back, seemingly nestled in his back pocket. He stares like he intended to say something else, lips parting and closing right back. In the next second, he seems to shift gears, pulling you into a hug. 

You welcome the warm embrace, as the chill has started to gnaw at your bones. He plants a kiss to the top of your head, and you want to stay in that feeling for the rest of your life.

Sadly, he does eventually pull away to admit dinner on the balcony would be quite miserable, and the two of you move inside. 

You could spend the rest of the evening overthinking about what all that meant, but you don’t bother. Why go through that mental labor, when instead you could drink $500 champagne, carefree while your handsome boyfriend flirts with you like it’s the first date. 

You don’t think about it then, or later in the night when your legs are pressed to your chest and you can’t recall a single thing he said. You focus on what he’s saying then–filthy words about who you belong to, and exactly where you belong–a whimpering mess underneath him.

Even when it turns possessive (more so than usual), when your throat is littered with marks and his hand stands to leave another on his hip, you don’t think of it. But it’s the only thing on Tony’s mind. When another orgasm rips through you, all he can think about is how much he needs you. He whispers ‘you’re mine’ over and over and over as you fall apart just so your broken moans can still echo–so he can hear just how true it is. How could you, with such a dutiful guide at the helm?

Afterwards, when you’re drained of every ounce of life, it still doesn't bother you. You don’t wonder if tonight might be another night he slips into plain clothes and disappears until sunrise. You can’t muster a single thought as his arm slinks around your waist to pull you closer. 

You simply close your eyes, and let sleep take you. 

Eventually the days tick by to the gala, and you’re somewhere between impressed and overstimulated with all the ensuing holiday glamor. 

Though, you can’t say he doesn’t go all out. 

The first floor of Stark Industries is transformed from a cold minimalist space to Ebenezer Scrooge's worst nightmare. A makeshift stage sits at one end, complete with enough tinsel to suffocate a horse and twinkling garlands. Piles of fake snow anoint the corners, and a particularly large one sits beneath a 12-foot tall Christmas tree in the middle of the lobby. The open bar even serves drinks in frosted holiday glasses. He even has the guards wearing reindeer ears. 

By ten p.m. the vast floor seems smaller than a shoebox, packed with guests in evening gowns and tailored tuxedos. Initially, you’d planned on wearing a new piece for the gala–something to make the overwhelming festivity Tony demanded. Once it came time to get dressed, your eyes caught the sanguine dress. You hadn’t gotten the chance to wear it since your first date. It had felt too exquisite for any other occasion, but for some reason you were drawn to wear it tonight. 

You wish you could say Tony had a good reaction–or a reaction at all. From sunrise until the doors opened, he’s caught up in planning and preparations. Matter of fact, you were two hours into the gala and had only seen glimpses of him shaking hands in the crowd. It takes away from the expected familiarity. You imagined this night to be simple, easy for you to blend it with Tony on your arm, in his home your home. Instead, you wander like a lost gazelle, feeling every pair of eyes on you. You want to blame the dress. Revealing and bright red.

In the blurry swarm of faces, bright auburn stands out. Natasha wouldn’t be your first pick, but she’s the only familiar face and you need a respite.

You squeeze in next to her at one of the corner tables. The spice of her perfume permeates your nose but you can look past it for the moment. She pays you no mind at first, legs crossed and head turned to the crowd. You don’t mind one bit. It’s quieter towards the back, and you have no issue with it staying that way. 

Natasha sighs deeply, almost in boredom, maybe annoyance, but not with you. 

“I don’t know how you stand him.”

“How do you figure?” you respond absently, picking apart at a stray piece of tinsel.

“One of the richest men on Earth-I know he’s got the ego to match it.”

“You’d know better than I would, wouldn’t you?” you answer. You’d gotten the sense Natasha and Tony back way further than him and Pepper a while ago,

“Touche, but I’m not dating him.” she shifts to take another sip from her glass, “though, I’m not really sure why you are.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, do you really love him, or are you just after a family fortune?” Emerald eyes points like knives, her tone blending from casualty to scorn.

“W-what,” you stammer, “Of course I love him–Tony pursued me.”

“Please, he’d pursue anything with a pulse,” Natasha chuckles, “and relax, I’m just finally getting around to doing my due diligence.” 

“Your ‘due diligence’ is being a cunt?”

“Ooh! I see you’re a feisty one–you did sit here after all, you know.” she muses.

“Just needed a break from the crowd,” you mummer, rising. 

“Stay then–relax, like I said.” she gestures towards your now-empty seat. When you sigh and retake your place, she smiles. “I like you, you know.”

“We’ve barely spoken.” you declare, a dry chuckle spewing alongside. 

“That doesn’t mean I don’t know a smart person when I see one.” 

“Smart?”

“Smart decisions, going out with Tony, not screwing that up, though I’ve been told you’ve come close a few times.”

“Who–”

“This isn’t an interrogation, like I said, I like you–I don’t really care what happens between you two.”

“Then what is this?” you flag the nerdy tuxedoed waiter for a glass of water. 

“You said it yourself, we’ve barely spoken. My job is to keep Tony’s business running smoothly, and that’s become a lot harder since he won’t make a single decision without considering the ‘y/n’ of it all.” 

You scoff, unimpressed. “We don’t talk about his business.”

“Oh, I know,” Natasha remarks, “A bartender has no idea how to run a billion dollar corporation, and even less of an idea how to advise one.” 

“This is the part where you tell me I have no business being with him, right?” The waiter drops off a tall pitcher of water for you both. Once your glass is full, he passes along a message that Tony’s speech starts soon. 

“Dear god no,” Natasha laughs, “I imagine you’ve heard that enough–and he’s much more pleasant since you came around. Besides, you’re living the dream.” 

“Is that so?” You have to give a laugh of your own (considering you had a bit of jealousy buried for her). 

“Oh yes, filthy rich, live in a penthouse, never work another day in your life, loving husband–maybe not my dream, but still a dream.” 

You don’t know if she’s trying to be funny but your next laugh is genuine, and she joins in.

“What is your dream, then?” you question.

Natasha’s grin stiffens, surprised. Contemplation passes for a second and you worry that you’ve underdone the last three minutes of camaraderie. 

“Ballet teacher–but that stays at this table.” She gives you a matching pointed look.

“My lips are sealed.” You do try not to giggle, but it’s odd to imagine her frigidity in a warm lit studio surrounded by tutus. 

“Did you mean it, what you said about Tony? That things are...okay?” Natasha asks, referring to Tony’s sobriety. It’s weird how everyone dances around it, especially someone so usually straightforward as her. 

It was weeks ago when you parroted that claim. And you only call it that because the question annoys the fuck out of you. It’s entirely subjective, and you give in to the optimistic look in their eye and tell them what they want to hear. He’s fine, better even.

Maybe it’s because she’s being nice, or because you already gave up this facade with Harley, but you can’t be bothered to pretend you know what’s going on with him all the time. Besides, clearly you weren’t doing a good enough job for her to ask you about it again

“I want to say yes, but I don’t know, I guess?” you admit, staring into the crowd. 

Natasha’s mouth parts to speak again, only to have the microphone’s feedback interrupt her. The host–some Nobel prize winning chemist Tony invited to pull donors–clears his throat before starting his introduction, and the noise draws to a lull. Natasha excuses herself, presumably to find Tony before his speech. You decide to stay at the back of the lobby, with a good enough view of the stage. 

Supposedly this entire sordidly festive affair had a true business purpose, some big announcement Tony was making on the ‘future of the company’. He didn’t explain much more than that, and you’re certain the technical logistics were beyond you anyway. 

After a long, boring welcome, the mic is passed off to Tony. It’s the first time today you’ve been able to see him fully–draped in a jet black tuxedo and bright red bowtie. 

It whines again in his grip, and Tony pauses once the cheers die down, glancing at the expectant faces below. Thick cards press into his palm, each written meticulously inked by Natasha last night He clears his throat, glancing out past the lights into the crowd. He hopes they can’t see how heavy the stillness starts to weigh on him like before. The sudden quiet, all that attention. Including yours, somewhere out there. His heart stalls at how must look to you up here. Larger than life probably, or maybe you weren’t looking at all (he hopes you aren’t). A hundred odd pairs of eyeballs, and he hides from yours. 

Tony knew what he had to do, and was quite confident in his choice. But he can’t risk looking you in the eye while he does it. Ironically, his decision had very little to do with you, and everything to do with Pepper. The edge of his mouth still twitches. 

“Tonight…” he starts, turning the twitch into a warm smile, “…I’ve asked you all to be here in celebration, to celebrate Stark Industries, and talk about the future of the company,” He clears his throat, rolling his shoulders as if trying to loosen some unseen knot.

There’s a small, brief ripple of confusion among the front of the room, murmurs. Something shifts in his expression—just a flash—before his eyes catch something and harden. A gesture is made to the guard at the end of the stage. His hand tightens around the mic.

“To keep things transparent,” he says, stuffing the cards into his pocket, “the real reason I threw this party, asked you all to be here, is because I want everyone to see how much this means to be.”

Your ears perk up. Natasha swears under her breath, glancing at you before sharply leaving the table, tapping away at her phone. Tony can’t hide from your gaze anymore, and he finds your confused face in the back corner. Before you think about a path to escape, the crowd follows his attention, taking their eyes from the billionaire to the nobody fiddling with tinsel alone.

“I want to celebrate the love I have for this woman, and take this opportunity to share it with everyone.” 

What the hell is he doing?, you think. He can't be doing this here, like this. 

“The truth is,” he pauses, feeling his phone buzz off the hook (most certainly Natasha telling him to stop), “I’m getting married, and Stark Industries will be welcoming a new partner in its operations.”

The room erupts in a chorus of oos and awes, all to the tune of your racing heart. It takes you a second to process. He means getting married to you. You never even talked about marriage, the future, anything like that. Yeah, maybe in passing the idea came up, but at no point did you accept a marriage proposal. 

Everything feels nauseatingly blurry after. Random individuals come over with their congratulations, while half the crowd stares and the other half still bothers to listen to the rest of Tony’s speech. It’s a bunch of nonsense about restructuring and profits, and you’re too confused, pissed, and too fed up with fake smiles to bother standing around to listen. 

You suffer through two more superficial conversations about the marriage you were only made privy a few minutes ago. Finally, you escape to the restroom. You find an empty stall to hide in, trying to process what was going through Tony’s mind.

He couldn’t be serious, could he? This wasn’t real–it was some ploy or tactic. He didn’t genuinely intend to marry you. You didn’t like to think of the long-term for the same reasons you didn’t think about the short-term. This was unpredictable, you learned that. You learned to be okay with that. You could soak in the pleasures indefinitely without ever worrying about how it might all end. This, this brought it into a sharp focus you weren’t ready for. 

You’re not even certain he’s fully divorced yet. 

Once your palms finally dry, and the threat of a panic attack fades, you step out of the restroom. You don’t even know what to think, and the sterile walls weren’t helping. Glancing back toward the gala, you spot Tony scanning the room—until his eyes find yours. You don't hold his gaze long; instead, you turn sharply toward the elevator. You hear your name faintly called from somewhere behind, but you keep moving down the hall, ignoring it.

He breaks into an awkward jog to catch you. You keep your eyes forward.

“[Y/N], look I know this wasn’t what you were expecting, and I can explain I just need–” he starts,

“You’ve lost your fucking mind, Stark,” Natasha heels stomp angrily down the hall, stepping in front you to point her finger in Tony’s face, “what the hell are you doing?”

“Alright, alright, not you right now–cut it out!” He smacks her hand away flippantly, “I’m not entirely sure you and Matt haven’t been drinking the kool-aid either.” 

Tony huffs and straightens his bowtie and you step back from Natasha’s heat. Behind the three of you, someone gets their hands on a karaoke machine and a terrible rendition of Santa Baby follows.

“The whole point of this bullshit was to go public and get out of this shit so explain to me how this gets us anywhere closer to that?” She grits.

Tony throws his hands in the air, “Maybe it doesn’t, but your dumbass plan wasn’t any better.”

“You think marrying her is going to help you? You know I was joking when I said that, right?” 

Suddenly, a spotlight seems to beam over you. Neither party stops their death glare to fully acknowledge you. That wasn’t a proposal–you were just some pawn in their game.

You don’t even know what the hell they’re playing for.

“This is a great time to remind you who signs your checks.” 

Only then do her eyes bother to glance at you. 

“This isn’t gonna end well, and you know it.” She concedes, still stern. After that, she stomps back off into the crowd. 

Tony turns towards you, but you're already back at the elevator, watching the buttons finally reach L.

“[Y/N], please–” 

The doors ding open and you don’t stop to hear anymore. Despite your feverous attempt to close the doors, Tony makes his way inside. The door just barely misses his coattail, to your annoyance.   

Even worse, and completely on par for the evening, the jingle bells elevator music plays the moment the doors shut. 

A hard, awkward beat passes. You’re pinching the bridge of your nose, sparsely emptied of any more energy for this night (mentally or otherwise). 

“You look fucking stellar, by the way, love that dress–”

“Tony.”

“Right, you’re right, sorry.”

Neither of you spare another word from the elevator to the bedroom. Tony follows behind, closing the door softly as you toss your earring onto the dresser. You’re waiting for him to speak again. Explain, deflect–hopefully just explain, but he doesn’t. He sits at the end of the bed, eyes trained to you in the mirror. 

“Why didn’t you ask me? Alone? Before today?” you sigh, “

“I wanted to, I was going to, the other night on the balcony I just–” he answers quickly, but trails off in a way that has you turning to face him instantly.

You don’t doubt that for a second. Truthfully, the level of effort and random heartfeltness of the night gave you some clue. But, when it never came you just chalked it up to Tony being Tony. Painfully romantic in most conditions. 

“You just what, didn’t want to?” There’s anger, though you know it's hypocritical. 

“No I just,” he exhales, dragging his fingers through slicked back hair, “I knew you’d say yes.”

“You knew I’d say yes? What the hell does that mean?” Your necklace joins the rest of your jewelry with a loud clink. 

“This is coming out all wrong–”

“You think?” The six inch heels are the next thing to go, throwing haphazardly in the closet. Tony rises to cut you off in front of the door, eyes pleading for understanding you’re not sure you have. 

“I saw the look in your eye, I’d done so much to make sure you’d say yes in that moment because I needed you to–not because I wanted it and that wasn’t the way it was supposed to go.”

“You don’t know that I’d say yes.”

“You would,” he says with that practiced charm, all sunny but hollow. A trademark Stark move—confidence teetering on arrogance. When you hesitate, he’s ready with another word, a gaze intense enough to hypnotize. “You know you would.”

You laugh, looking away as if it’s absurd. “Are you really so sure?”

His hand slips into yours, gentle but firm, thumb brushing across your knuckles in a way that makes it seem like he’s talking to you, only you, and not the thousand voices in his head screaming at him to get this done. 

“I know you’re scared, but” he says, leaning into your warmth. “Don’t leave me hanging here, please.”

“You sound so desperate, it’s kind of sad.” 

But there’s a softness to your voice now, a hint that he might be getting through. For a moment he was worried he wouldn’t be able to get away with this again, that you’d learned all his tricks since the boutique. 

It’s enough of a crack in your resolve for him to keep pushing. He slips closer, voice low. 

“Look, I know I keep asking a lot of you, but, There’s a pause, just long enough to let the ache in his voice sit, before he adds, “this could fix everything, everything can be okay.”

There’s a sliver of doubt in your eyes, and that’s what he clings to. 

“And when was the last time everything was okay, Tony?” You watch him in the bureau’s mirror. 

 “It could be. All I need for you to do is say yes, so I can fix this,” He squeezes your hand, the hint of desperation all but veiled now. 

And when you finally exhale, when that flicker of sympathy slips in, he knows he’s won.

It’s good enough. Better than he hoped, honestly. The relief slides into him like a tonic, loosening the tight lines in his jaw. He keeps his hand on yours, knowing the warmth of it will serve to distract from the creeping dread, from the hollow pit that’s been widening ever since the stakes got so high he couldn't see the top of them.

For Tony, this is all still just a means to an end. One step closer to true liberty and the life he was supposed to have. If he had to lie and disappoint–cheat and charm, then he’d do it. It would be worth it. In the end, the sum of his achievements would outweigh his sins.

He reminded himself of that a month ago, the night before he decided to have the gala. When the bedroom door closes, a sigh of relief escapes. He was lucky that you didn’t catch the conversation with Matt and Natasha in full. What he had in the works was sensitive, and he couldn’t have that ruined by anyone knowing the details in advance. He couldn’t lose you again, not when he needed you most. 

There is a shred of guilt as the elevator whirs down to the garage. You’re probably thinking the worst, understandably, but there wasn’t anything he could do about it. Only to pray his love was enough to placate you for now. 

Especially when he doesn’t even want to fucking do this. Each day seems to come at the loss of his autonomy, another suit on his payroll telling him what’s best for his life. It’s more deplorable when the people closest to him come up with the shittiest ideas to fix this. He can truly thank Pepper for his recent migraines (and a bunch of old ones). Filing for divorce was quite a move to try to get what she wanted, and throw him to the mercy of the Securities and Exchange Commission at the same time. If you listen to Matt, Tony’s mere minutes away from a cold cell. If you listen to Nat, Tony’s plummeting stock will be the sealer of his fate. And as of right now, two of the smartest people he knows can’t come up with anything that doesn’t come at the cost of you or his company. And he can’t live with either. 

Since, both their solutions arguably suck, he tells a lie or lack thereof to find a third opinion. Or a hail mary. However it’s called, it’s a long shot that he can’t be certain won't jeopardize him even more. 

The drive to Hudson Valley is peaceful, to the point he forgets his world is on fire. It’s late, or early, depending on who you ask. Few cars grace the road and he finds solace in the solitude. The radio is ignored for the repetitive rumble of the tires, until paved tar turns into rough gravel. 

When Pepper sent over the address, he wasn’t too surprised. She always rambled about moving out of the city, dreaming of cabins in the woods and sprawling hills. Tony could never wrap his head around living anywhere else. In retrospect, that was another early omen. They never even shared the same dream. 

He can’t say it doesn’t look impressive. A dark a-frame that strikes beautifully against the earthen spruce. Maybe that is why she had him drive all the way out here and not somewhere in the city. Part of masterplan to show him what she presumes he’s missing out on. 

The porch lights flicker on once he parks, and he makes his way up the stone path to find Pepper sitting just outside the door. She’s preoccupied with a thick novel, acknowledging Tony with the raise of a finger. 

It’s strange, being alone with her for the first time in years. She’s not dressed in Valentino but tattered college sweats he had forgotten about. Seeing her at the penthouse all those months ago was troubling, but this was different. Here, it’s too quiet. Even though he’s a few paces away from the table, he can hear the tension of her nails against the pages–the swirl of wind through her hair. Sure, she can’t control the environment but he knows this is a calculated move too. To make him wait, make him uncomfortable. Every other sense sharpens in the absence of constant noise. Norway spruce and duplicity. 

He’s losing his nerve and he needs this over. 

“Why the hell’d you make me drive this far out anyway?” He tries to keep a level voice, knowing she wouldn’t hesitate to use his irritation against him. 

“It’s the one place I’m certain your little spy hasn’t found yet.” she murmurs.

Okay, fine, so he’d used his son to spy on his ex-wife. Big deal, he couldn’t be certain she wasn’t doing the same. Plus, Harley had offered to keep an eye on her. It was a matter of security, not personal (mostly). 

“Can we get on with this?”

“I suppose,” she sighs, tossing the book onto the table. The thud reverberates, stark against the stillness of the valley. “But I’m not sure what it is you want from me–you did call me after all.”

“I did.” And he’s regretting it every second.

“So, what can I do for you?”

“You can start by accepting the deal Murdock sent, and let this be over.” 

Pepper chuckled, crossing her legs. “What are you playing at, Tony?”

“I’m not playing at anything–this needs to be over, you need to move on.”

“Oh please, don’t flatter yourself,” she scoffs, “this is all very rich considering you’ve held me in litigation for months, you rejected my offers over and over, so why the sudden change of heart?”

A cold chill and burning annoyance pull him closer to the table. 

“Yes, because I should just give you forty-five percent of my company–I can get it gift-wrapped too if that makes it all the better.”  

“That’s right, your ego won’t let you admit I’m the only reason you have a company to speak of.”

“Can’t you find an ounce of compassion in that gaping pit you call a soul, for me?”

“Such harsh words from someone who needs something from me.” Pepper smirks and stands once the heat recedes from Tony’s face. 

“Take the twenty percent, finalize the papers, and end this, or else there won’t be anything for either of us.”

She circles the table to stop in his view. Tony wishes he had a time machine.

“Let me guess, someone’s under a little heat.” she muses, voice high and dripping in sugary venom.

“Little is an understatement.” He steps back, hands tight in her pockets.

“And why would I give up my shares to help you?”

“This entire thing started with you, and the second it wasn’t convenient you ran. The least you could fucking do is help me out of it.” Tony snapped. 

“Right, and if I don’t?” 

She still laughs, because it’s all a good game to her. Entertaining to see him against the ropes–desperate enough to reach out to her. For once though, it’s calming. It soothes his anger and reminds him why he agreed to this at all. This time, he had an ace up his sleeve.

“Then I’ll tell just that to whoever needs to know–you know I have the evidence. You’ll go down right alongside me.”

In the quiet solace, for a moment, she’s outplayed. Her smile falters and brows crinkle. Truthfully, as much as he’d love to, he could never sell her out. But she had a terrible tendency of assuming the worst of him, and he was banking on that. 

“Please do, I’m sure they’d love to hear what I know about Obadiah.” 

Oh, so that was her ace.

A soft buzz vibrates his back pocket. He doesn’t need omniscience to know it’s you. He can picture it clearly–you, traipsing around the penthouse looking for signs of life. He knows you hate that feeling, and he hates to cause it. 

There’s a more pressing issue; not giving Pepper the emotional reaction she wants.

“You wouldn’t do that.” Spare words from some forgotten bin. 

“Not if you don’t force my hand.” 

A painful pause ensues. The valley’s fauna recognize the tension, silencing out of respect for the sound of Tony’s plan shattering. A true stalemate. Not what he came for, but his throat swells thinking about the aftermath from a war of attrition. 

He can’t let that get out, above all else. That’d be his dissolution. Stark Industries, everything he worked for would vanish. You, without question. You never see him the same again. The crafted image he sought, the life he was creating with you for you, it’d be wasted effort. 

“What’s it gonna take for you to help me?”

After another migraine-causing conversation, Tony slumps into the driver seat, shoulders heavy and eyelids even heavier. Fifteen minutes have passed since your text, and he wonders if it's better not to answer at all. 

[ everything okay?  ]

[ be home soon ]

Ignore. Deflect. Move on.  

The drive back to the city is less pleasant. Actually, it’s a nightmare that he disassociated through the moment he entered the garage. He was, tragically, fucked. There was no telling if he had the capital to replace whatever Pepper took, and he certainly couldn’t risk everything by going public. And if he didn't give Pepper what she wanted, he might be looking at a depressing future behind bars. And that was not an option. 

So he’s at the mercy of the ginger Judas who put him on the path in the first place. Go figure. There’s self-blame for entertaining this option at all. For not guessing she’d snake her way into the upperhand like always. This wasn’t a beast he could defeat with regular tactician and planning. No, he needed to surprise her–usurp her. Piss her off the way she pissed him off. Go against the grain and act in a way that she couldn't predict. Something she couldn’t maneuver around. 

So, when the mic graced his hands, and the coached words on his marriage, the marriage  he never asked you about. The marriage he couldn’t ask you about because he wasn’t ready either. 

He said fuck it, and did it anyway. 

He knew you would’ve said yes then, so you obviously would answer the same afterwards. Even if you were predictably, and understandably pissed, you loved him, and he intended to use that. Grand gestures were his thing after all. A huge public soiree was more on brand than some private dinner. And, he was Tony Stark. The man who got everything he wanted. Why would your hand be any different? Certainly it fell under the same bracket (and really, an argument could be made that he had your loyalty regardless–this was just a title). 

It was justified in his mind the moment the words hit the mic. It just sounds right– Y/N Stark. Like he should have made it that way a long time ago. For a second, the ceaseless pit of vengeance is taken over by something more. 

It;s even easier to justify when he gets a wave of childlike excitement over it. Imagining the ring on your finger, the life he could have with you. Palm trees and salt waves on a remote coast. No more Stark Industries, no more nightmares about cold federal prisons, just you and him. 

Then, in the crowd, he spots what must be Pepper’s lookout. A short, brayish man stays still while dozen roar in congratulatory apologize. Pepper should’ve coached him better, a clear sore loser in a room full of winners. 

The real reason he’s doing this comes back. Tony makes a quick signal to the guard behind him, and moments later the man is escorted upstairs. He used to hate doing this. But he soon learned that humanity gets you nowhere in this business. Still, he almost tells his team to go easy. Then he remembers the cold look on Pepper’s face at the valley while he plead for mercy like a sad dog. 

Fuck that. The man knew the risks. It’s not Tony’s fault they didn’t play in his favor. 

Out of whatever kindness was left, he makes a note to have his body dumped somewhere nice. 

PART SIX SOON

[mildlyromanticperv]

What did you expect of me?

Karina x MReader. Fluff. Enemies to lovers.

-For christ sake, what a bitch! -Your anger boiling in your heart and your brain tells you, no, yells you to go to your managers office and demand a fair treatment, it's just ourageous that among all the workers in the office you have to stay late every single day of the week to cover the "last project of the quarter".

No matter what you do, how hard you work, how many late nights and how many cups of coffee you drink at a day, it just feels like a prison in here, the office that hired you as the main developer for the website on their new brand "Supernova."

Plus, who names a project "Supernova"? Sounds like with just a simple code here and there you'd make the market implode and then explode in money... If your manager Karina expects for that to happen she's either naively hopeful or a total delusional.

-You, come to my office. -Her cold words stabs your brain, after a whole week hearing her low pitch condescending dictatorial voice you can't bear to listen to it one more time, but you need this job like, DESPERATELY need this job, so there's no talk back to the boss.

-Yes boss?

-We're behind on the project, have you been slacking off again? -Her cold judgemental gaze falls upon your black sacked eyes showing off the immense exhaustion you have tu put up with during the project.

-Look boss, I'm doing my best, I haven't slept well these past few days but I assure you I will have everything ready by next month even if the useless of my coworkers don't do shit. -Your tongye got the best of you and runs wild. -I just need to have a good night sleep, can you let me out early today?

-No, we are all hands on deck and you know that. -She sighs and rubs her forehead in a clear show of stress and disappointment. -Just go back to work and don't screw anything up.

Any person with enough patience would put up with that shit, but not you, not now at least. The condescending tone and the past sleep deprived week has been just too much for you, clearly you're not thinking straight anymore, or perhaps you're thinking clearer...?

-Fuck this.

-Excuse me? -She responds with equal or perhaps even higher anger.

-Fuck this Karina, I'm not doing any more shit today and I'm tired to put up with your fucking demands. Fire me if you want I'm going home to sleep. -You really shuld've thought that better, but what is done is done, you start to pick up your stuff and bracing yourself for the shouting match.

-You cross that door and you're suspended, one week half pay. -Surprisingly enough instead of picking up a fight and shouting her vocal cords off as she usually does, she just stares straight into your eyes with a gaze so cold it could freeze hell itself. -You're not the only developer in our payroll, if I wanted I could fire your sorry ass right now and make it so you never work as a developer never again in your life, so consider this a favour.

Breathe.

Don't let that tone of hers get into your core.

Just, breathe.

-Fuck you. -It's the only thing you get to say before actually leaving.

-One week suspension no pay, and don't you dare call me or text me asking to forgive you. Jackass.

With the anger oozing through your pores you just slam the door and head out. You start your car and praying you don't crash you go from 0 to 100 in just a couple of seconds screeching the tires of your car.

-Please god, take care of him... -She sighs under her breath.

But wait... What?

Take care of him?

During that next week there was absolutely no news from you on the office, things started to be more... tense. You've received a ton of messages from your coworkers basically begging him to come back, but the answer is defenitive: No.

However things don't ever go your way.

*Bzz* *Bzz* *Bzz*

-Hey, we need to talk, come to the office. -Again, that swee... No. Annyoing voice again.

-I'm suspended. -Your answer comes as soon as the thought hits your brain.

A sigh from the other line and a faint whisper.

-This man is going to be the death of me some day. -But then the usual tone returns. -Look, I made a rash decision and we need your intel, you're the one that knows the way around our software.

-I thought you had several developers in your payroll, I bet they can help. -You say sipping through the wine you bought for that dinner for one you've been pushing away so much due to the job.

-I'm asking nicely, and around here you know that's as rare as an unicorn. Just come here tomorrow and finish the project, we're ahead.

-Ahead? What do you mean ahead? You said we we're behind last week! -Your voice comes harsher and harsher, even though your chest is telling you not to.

Not to her.

-I lied to try and make things faster, okay? Just come and we can talk like professionals. -She couldn't come to acknowledge the fact that she just wanted to see you. She couldn't admit that she misses your cologne, your three day beard and your stoic gaze when you're so deep in thought. -I'll send you the advances that have been made.

Right away she hangs up the phone, relieved she didn't break down into yelling or insults. Right away an email arrives on your computer with such incredibly... small advances looks like you carried the entire project all by yourself.

-Why am I not surprised? -You sigh under your breath as you pause the movie you were watching and read what has been done, immediately you start chaning... well, almost everything.

Next day...

You should at least turn off the car, for real, have you seen how expensive the gas is around these days?

"Just go, I avoid her any longer... I- I don't want to..." -It's the only thought that crosses your mind, the thought of seeing her piercing eyes again, the feeling of her gaze piercing and burning through your very soul, the loud beating of your heart as you look at her lips...

Her lips...

If only she wasn't your boss, right?

-So, I checked the non existent advances the useless guys did, and...

-How you've been? Have you slept well? -For some reason her tone wasn't condescending anymore, the worry present on her voice...

Could it be?

-Yes, finally in months I've been sleeping great... -Her eyes, oh. my. god... Her eyes... -Anyways, I have everything finished now, you can present it to corporate. -You say trying to avoid her eyes as you speak sarcastically and look at your watch.

-Big date coming or something? -She asks, doing an awesome job yo hide the jealousy.

-Just wondering how long this will take. -She sighs again, feeling the anger and stress of your cold demeanor.

-Your week of suspension ends today and the weekind is off by legal, so you can go now and I'll see you on monday.

-Sure.

After that you just go back to your usual routine, the weekend goes great and the next week of work comes, with so much less stress that even the busiest day feels like a walk through the park. The time off work led you to watch so much shows, and so much free time, time spent in imagining your life outside of work with that person that would make your days so much happier.

Thinking of love.

What a great future you could have, perhaps you could get married and have kids, after all that's your dream.

In a year you'd ascendo in your job, start earning more, you'd start dating to finally get the chance to let you feel that love you so desperately look for, In a year your boss wouldn't be your boss and perhaps you could date her, in a year you'd buy your first...

Your boss? Date... your boss?

Why would you think that? She's a bitch.

"But she's a gorgeous bitch." You thought, perhaps... only perhaps... You wanted that, you liked your boss...

*Bzz* *Bzz* *Bzz*

Your phone rings with a text from your boss.

-Corporate loved the project, we were given monday to celebrate, so I'll be expecting you monday 7:00 A.M. sharp for the party.

-Got it boss. And hey, sorry for snapping out last week. -Perhaps this could be a beginning, you know you should keep things professional, you keep telling yourself to stop but flesh is weak.

-Yeah, just don't be late. -Her response cold as always after 5 minutes of writing and deleting, she's also in the midst of an inner debate, whether let herself feel what she wants to feel for you or just don't say anything.

But why? Why shouldn't you try? Because she's your boss? There's plenty of people that date with their boss and make it work, you shouldn't keep ahold of the prospect of your happiness just because people might judge, that's the whole point, living for yourself and be happy yourself. Isn't it?

That very Monday at 7:00 A.M. you show yourself at work wearing a new white T-shirt and some loose jeans, your usual wrist watch and a new cologne you bought just for your boss, nothing else is going to stop you.

-Hey, boss. -You came to talk to her made a nrevous wreck not really knowing what to do to get her attention.

-Oh, here he is, the brain behind it all. -She wrapped her arm around your shoulders and pulled you closer to present you to some corporate officers like if you were a prize, like you never shouted before... Like you two were friends... Being so close to her made your every sense enter overdrive and your nostrils welcomed her particular scent, that magnificent smell of lavender and strawberries sent your head over the moon.

The rest of the party went completely normal, talking here, showing off there... Taking glances at your boss every once in a while as well.

Wait, did she looked at you as well?

Was she blushing?

-Hey boss can I talk to you for a sec? -You got closer and whispered into her ear, not long after she pointed you to the balcony where you usually go to have your lunch.

-Make it quick.

-Look boss, there's no easy way for me to say this, but I think I should quit... I... I have feelings for you.

-Is that so? -Her cold demeanor makes you back off for a second, unable to tell the truth in her eyes you stutter.

-I know, I know that I was rude last week and I'm being just way too out of line. -Her eyes shine with a glint never seen before, in her mind the thoughts are divided whether she should speak from her heart, as Karina. Or speak from her brain as Ms. Jimin, regional Manager of your branch.

-You know you're my worker, and this is incredibly inappropriate.

-Don't you feel the same for me? I saw you looking for my eyes before.

-Don't be ridiculous, I'm your boss. -Despite the way she feels work ethics comes first, how can a manager could let a worker speak to her that way?

-I don't care. -It's the last thing you said before leaning forward and placing your hand against her cheek, caressing her soft skin and pressing your lips over hers.

For a second all that exists is you and her, together in a tight embrace holding her waist desperately thinking that if you'd ever let go of her she'd just vanish in the thin air. She responds to your advances letting your body invade her personal space, for mere seconds that feel like an eternity all that she can feel is your hands gripping her blouse until she lets go of any ties and wrap her arms around your neck, tipping into her toe-tips to match as much as she can your height.

-We... We can't... I'm your boss... -Her voice comes out cracking, breathing unsteady due to the raw passion she just felt a while ago. -It's inappropriate.

-I don't care, I'll quit if needed, I just care that I want you.

-I want you too. -She rests her head on your shoulder nuzzling her face in the crook of your neck.

You then caress her soft hair, taking a deep breath of her unique scent that send jolts of electricity along your brain.

-So what now, boss? -This time the words come out strong, lovingly, softly.

-Now we talk to HR, couples need to fill paperwork. -She pulls back and looks into your eyes again. -You always make me do more and more paperwork... -She then whispers in your ear. -Sweetie.