#I always try to tip bc Oh man if I was rich I’d give people so much money I love art so much I love people who enjoy themselves and their

[cozen]

I simply must purchase more commissions right away!!!

[chrisevansgoodgirl]

it isn’t that hard to like you or love you. i’d follow you down, down, down

summary: ransom’s an insecure bitch TM and there’s no character development happening here. (mostly before that other ransom thing I wrote, but a small peak after bc i couldn’t resist)

warnings: sex toys. a lot. and a lot of sex. and you know, ransom always entails some weird, rough shit, so.

word count: a little over 10,300

pairing: ransom drysdale x reader

It had been years since you’d felt something inside you other than Ransom*.  (x)

*Seriously. Years.

Your relationship with Ransom didn’t have the purest start. The ski-lodge was something both of your families looked at as a restart for the year, almost a form of damage control. He needed to stop partying so much and you needed to settle down. His group included his parents, Joni, Meg, Walt, Donna, and Jacob. He told you later that they never invited Harlan because this was usually their time to get wasted and say terrible things about him.

Your group was your mother, father, his two sisters, their husbands, a few of their children, and your boyfriend, Jeremy Vanderbilt. You hadn’t invited him, however, that was your father’s doing. Why? Because he was smart. He was a businessman. And Jeremy was nowhere near as attractive as you—at least, that was what you heard Dad tell Mom one night—so, there was no chance of him leaving you for someone else.

You’d confided to your father that the relationship wasn’t going well. You’d met Jeremy in high school and yes, you’d recognized that he wasn’t the most attractive man, but he was sweet, and you just got along with him. As time went on and you discovered he had absolutely no ambition, you worried that you were just going to be stuck with a sad replica of your parents’ life.

Eventually, your father would give him a job at the family company—a position that should be yours but never would be, never mind that, though. You would be a model up until he got you pregnant, the absolute last thing you wanted right now, and then you’d spend the rest of your life bitter and unsatisfied, tolerance would soon turn to resentment and you’d probably kill him one Christmas Eve with an axe. You wanted more, you wanted exciting.

Ransom was…in a way, exciting. Though the first week you’d been made aware of his unfortunate existence, you tried to avoid him like the plague. It started when your families were checking in, which happened to occur at the same time--something you often thought about because if it had just happened at a completely different time, you might have never met the Thrombeys. You might have never met Ransom. Now, you weren't sure you believed in soul mates or anything like that, but it always just kind of seemed like fate to you.

You were trying to get out of the lobby as fast as possible, just retire to your room because the trip up there was nothing short of sickening. Mindlessly, you’d walked into Ransom and because you were an actual person, began apologizing. Since he was just a beast, not a person, he was a total dick about it.

Whatever, you had encountered that a lot. People with money were often the worst. It didn’t bother you all that much. By the time you were in your room, soaking in a bath, you had completely erased it from your mind.

You didn’t see him again until three nights later when you pretended you needed to take a call outside to duck out of a dreadful dinner. Meg was there and she was in desperate need of something to smoke, which you happened to have on you. She was nice, telling you about how she intended to start college in January after spending two years on a break to try to figure out what she wanted to do.

When Ransom appeared, he was radiating arrogance. And heavy intoxication. He instantly started in on Meg, making every comment he could think of to get under her skin. Maybe it was that you guys had been out there smoking for nearly half an hour that diffused her anger, but she refused to engage and returned inside.

At that point, he had nothing to focus on but you. He’d asked for your name and you told him to fuck off. From that moment, Ransom showed an interest in you that you simply did not understand.

You refused to play his games for a while. You liked Meg, she was nice, unlike the rest of the family. And Ransom constantly tried to antagonize her. But see, your family and his family were the only obscenely rich families there at the moment. Most people were likely in Colorado, unfortunately, your moronic father insisted on Utah. Linda was an elitist, and well, you guys were all officially best friends.

It started with joint dinners, then breakfasts, then it was every god damn meal of the day. Your mother, Linda, and Joni needed to get away from their husbands constantly. Richard, your father, one of your mother's sisters, and Walt liked cigars and card games and would disappear anywhere they could to play out some pathetic knock-off casino scene. Meg loved the children and didn't mind babysitting, something you helped with when you could. Oh, and Ransom had taken quite an interest in Jeremy.

He hadn't really been around much at the start. You'd heard he was making his way through the female staff anyway, just trying to cause as much drama as he possibly could. No one in the Thrombey family seemed surprised and they didn't comment on it at all. Your family had the decency to wait until you were all in your rooms and could gossip about it behind their backs.

But then he did start showing up. Whenever Jeremy would hug you, kiss you, or just try to touch you in any unnecessary way, Ransom would give you this knowing look. That was around the time you started trying to pull away but that was only annoying Jeremy and sometimes Ransom would find you alone and you had no excuse to leave. You would have to admit that you were scared to be alone with him. You would have to admit why.

He was gorgeous, that was why. And dangerous and had clearly never heard the word 'no' before. You wanted to be the one to introduce him to the concept but you doubted your ability to tell him no.

One night, when Jeremy came to bed drunk and very handsy, you ended up screaming at each other. He was a drunk idiot with impaired judgment so you were the one that left the scene. It was stupid, but you decided to look for Ransom. Maybe you had wanted to tell him to stop getting your boyfriend drunk or maybe you just knew you had an alibi for not returning to your room that night. Not like Jeremy would be awake any time soon anyway.

Nothing happened, not really, you made it very clear that you were still with your boyfriend. But Ransom knew how to get all the information about your life that he wanted. Surprisingly, at some point, he started telling you some things back. He hated his family and you hated yours.

Perfect match.

Now, you guys would sit next to each other at those family breakfasts and dinners and whisper condescending things about everyone, Jeremy included. One thing you noticed, Ransom was a lot nicer to Meg and you figured it was because he knew it made you uncomfortable. In fact, Joni and Meg were the only people at the whole table who you could tolerate for more than two hours. Jeremy was starting to notice your new friendship, but what was he going to do about it?

One night, which would turn out being your last night at the lodge, Ransom showed up at nearly three in the morning. You'd figured he was with your boyfriend as you were alone, but he showed up solo.

You were hardly in anything, it was late, late enough that you wanted to hit him for being there—however, manners, you assumed, were foreign to him.

Amid a snarky comment you could no longer remember, he just moved forward and kissed you. You shoved at him, walking backward until you were forced to stop at the entertainment center in the main living room. He grabbed your face, holding you there, making it impossible to pull away from him. It was then that you sort of just crumbled, you wrapped your arms around his neck, a cue for him to pick you up.

He did, grabbing one thigh at a time and hauling your body up so your exposed cunt brushed against the stupid sweater he was wearing. He set you atop the entertainment center and you dropped your hands to his pants, yanking them out of your way. His hand found your center and he groaned when he felt how wet you were.

"Damn, is that all for me?"

You snorted. "I was fucking my fingers when you rudely interrupted."

He grabbed your jaw, locking his eyes with yours. "You’re going to show me that before I leave."

Without patience, he used one of his hands to shove yours away and pulled himself out of his pants. 

You were going to turn down but he used his hold on your jaw. "Just keep looking at me, baby."

You felt his tip against your skin, he began to run it through your slit, just barely brushing your clit every now and then. "Ransom, please—"

He slipped in just barely and you gasped. The head of his cock alone was a stretch you’d never quite felt.

You eagerly spread your legs further. "Keep going."

He slid in just a little more, groaning. "Fuck, you are tight."

And he was huge, but you could not tell a guy like Ransom that. He made you keep looking at him as he continued giving you more of his cock. His eyes showed pleasure, amusement, and definitely mischief. He wanted you surprised, it was why he didn’t let you look. You thought several times that you truly couldn't take any more of him but you knew that letting him know that would just get you that smug smirk, so you kept your mouth shut.

He gave you all the time you needed to adjust to him. He kissed you until you were the one bucking your hips and squirming. Then he fucked you hard and rough, and it was disgusting. He used you like you were a doll, whispering filthy things in your ear and sometimes making you say some back. He pulled your hair and choked you.

When you could hardly keep holding on to him, he decided it was time to go. He scooped you up and carried you to your bed, and didn’t cover your body or clean his cum off of you because he wanted Jeremy to find you.

Which he did, and by the time you woke up the next morning, everyone was packing. Jeremy had told your family about it and everyone knew immediately that it was Ransom. Your parents were furious, your aunts were entertained, and Jeremy was heartbroken. You’d never been a cheater so you had no idea what the hell to say to him. It didn’t seem like he’d wanted you to try anyway so you just shut up while everyone around you moved to get out of here quickly.

When your mother and her sisters went to lunch, you decided to head down to one of the many coffee shops. You took your youngest niece with you because she couldn’t help pack and you hardly wanted to be alone. With some coloring books and a wide collection of colored pencils, you guys settled in.

She was telling you all about her favorite tv show as you sipped on a latte. You’d order her a hot chocolate that she’d already downed like the demon she was. 

As you looked up to ask a server for another hot chocolate, you spotted Meg. She waved at you and you were just hit with this terrible idea. You told your niece to stay at the table and you would return with more hot chocolate. After a little small talk with Meg, and a dismissive hello from Linda, you’d asked if you could borrow Meg's phone. Per your lie, your boyfriend was supposed to meet you and your niece but had yet to show and you’re phone had died.

You slipped outside and searched for Ransom’s number. Thankfully, even though she clearly hated him, she had it. You pretended to make the call and then headed back inside. You returned to your table with some hot chocolate and sat back down to color again. Everything was normal, you had not made any irreversible mistakes as of yet.

Emphasis on yet, however. When you guys returned up to the room, Jeremy was on the phone trying to get a separate flight from the rest of you. As soon as he’d seen you, he headed out onto the balcony and slammed the door shut behind him. Good.

You disappeared into your bedroom, he wouldn’t dare step in there. You slipped into a cream-colored lacy bodysuit that actually covered nothing and hopped onto your mattress. You took several videos and faked even more orgasms, your only concern was that the videos looked good. Ransom had said he was going to watch you touch yourself before he’d left. Maybe he’d forgotten, but you didn’t exactly want him to.

You weren’t sure you had a winner but you had to stop when your father banged on your door and gruffly told you it was time to leave. Later, when you located your favorite video, you sent it. No name or explanation. You just included: you’re welcome. Blocking your number, by the way. Xoxo

Three days later, once you were home and back in your apartment, just trying to work and avoid the embarrassment of all your friends knowing you’d cheated on your boyfriend, there was a knock on your door. No one knew where you lived, it was a small, cozy place not meant for anyone but you.

Opening the door, you were not expecting to see Ransom there. "You didn't say goodbye."

You snorted. "I would have assumed you would be used to getting fucked and then forgotten about."

He smirked before glancing around. His expression soon showed his distaste. "Are you poor or something?"

"It’s meant to keep away the rich."

"You know, I woulda called..."

But you’d blocked him. "Some would take that to mean that I just didn’t want you to come at all."

"Well, I don’t much care about what other people want."

You’d been living together a month when he had located one of your toys. You thought he’d be excited to bring something in for just a little extra when you two were fucking. Nope, you were very wrong.

He was irritated beyond comprehension. He took your favorite shower toy—the one with a suction cup—stuck it on a kitchen chair and made you sit on it. For hours. Not allowed to move or touch yourself. All while he told you what he would do to you. You know, if you were a good girl. Which, according to him, you were very much not.

He’d then proceeded not to fuck you for a week. Seven motherfucking days. Despite your best attempts. Joining him in the shower. Blowing him in the Beamer. Sending pictures. Leaving voicemails begging him to let you feel him inside of you. Not a thing could crack his resolve.

Well, except you pouting about it on that 7th day. It was Christmas. You were watching Cartoon Network, waiting for the bests. Thinking back, you were sure it was in addition to the stress he felt over having to deal with his family. But whatever, he’d still fucked you and you’d still been three hours late to the annual Christmas party. 

He’d proudly told everyone it was because your cunt was the only present he’d wanted and didn’t care when you nearly choked on your wine because of it. Donna tried to throw a chair at him afterward, imploring him to consider the children present. Not that Jacob had even heard, as he was too busy on Twitter. He did live stream the fight, though, claimed it got turned into a meme.

Even though Ransom didn’t tell you why you weren’t a “good girl”, you’d figured it was his insane pride. Ransom would be the kind of guy to freak out over their girlfriend fucking anything else, even inanimate objects. You didn’t get rid of the rest of your toys, you just tried to hide them better. 

So, the ones you thought you couldn’t part with were placed in your suitcases because you knew he wouldn’t find them. He had quickly come to terms with your extensive collection. You loved airports and loved being photographed at them, that meant suitcases were of the utmost importance to you. They lined the walls of your closet, the one he had added to his house for you when you moved in—because the idea of you two being able to share a closet was hilarious. He had twice as many sweaters as you and you had more dresses than he had scarves. In short, you guys weren’t interested in sharing closets. A house, a bed, sure. But trying to fit into a single closet probably would have ended your relationship.

Speaking of ending the relationship. You’d walked in, dozens of shopping bags in hand, finding him sitting at the table with your favorite vibrator just inches away from his coffee mug. You’d wanted to know why exactly he was in your closet in the first place! It was your closet, your suitcase! He had no right!

It took a total of three seconds before you were screaming at him. And about ten seconds for him to start screaming back. You were both fans of angry fucking, which was the only reason he’d fucked you then. Bags and new clothing was strewn all around, a chair on its side because he stood up to intimidate you, and you decided to try to kick the chair at him. He pushed it over and then shoved you against the wall.

A blink of an eye later, he had your skirt pushed up and your underwear pulled out of his way. He indelicately thrust into you until you were so, so, so fucking close. But he’d just kept saying wait for me, baby. Just wait a little longer. I want to feel it together. And you being stupid, believed him. You were just about to slip, despite your sheer desperation to experience the pretty picture he was painting, when he pulled out. He stroked himself several times, leaned over to bite down on your shoulder, and then he spilled out onto your skirt, your thighs, and the fucking floor.

He kissed your shoulder, then turned, tucked his cock back in his pants, and left. Oh, but not before he grabbed the vibrator. You didn’t speak to him for eleven days and he didn’t seem to care too much.

This was at the same time your parents were doubling down on their efforts to make you leave him. They constantly introduced you to their friends’ children, men your age who were kind, smart, and a lot less spoiled and entitled than Ransom. 

Honestly, that tenth night that you’d fallen asleep alone, you actually considered listening to them. He must have known something was up that morning, because he did actually know you and care about your feelings even if he didn’t act like it. You hadn’t said or done anything differently, you just took your coffee and left for another brunch with your parents.

When you returned to the house, he wasn’t in the living room. That was where he’d been most days, just reading the newspaper and pointedly being okay with your silent treatment. You briefly thought that if he wasn’t there, then it wouldn’t be so hard to pack a few bags. Maybe if he was going to be gone for a few hours, you could get a few great professionals to pack up your closet before he even knew what you were planning.

But then he called your name from the kitchen. You went if only because you were curious. He handed you a diamond necklace, said he was sorry for ruining your skirt. You were utterly speechless. Your skirt? He was apologizing about your skirt?!

You took the necklace but didn’t say a word to him. That night, he’d come home later than you would have wanted, but at least it wasn’t 3 am. He didn’t try to speak first, didn’t look for your permission. He just climbed into bed and pulled you into his chest.

The following time was more than just wounded pride. Okay, it was all wounded pride, but it was on a severe, personal level. Your parents were still trying and you had to tell Ransom. Why? Because one of his female friends that he used to fuck told him that you were out with Maximus Brandt, a “mutual friend” of just about everyone, even though, in reality, no one could stand him. You included. And well, he and Ransom... you didn’t have the time to explain their level of hate for one another.

Ransom was furious at first, then you explained the situation. He didn’t stop being furious, oh no. He instead just changed his reason for being furious. But he claimed he didn’t care. He claimed that he knew he had nothing to worry about and you told him that he was right, you wanted to be with him. You thought that was the end of the issue.

Nope, the following day, while you were at work, Ransom texted you four times.

How many god damn vibrators can a person have? 

You hadn’t read it when he first sent it, you didn’t have your phone on you. You were just there for a photoshoot, hopefully, a smooth one. Work hadn’t been great as of late, not so much because of Ransom... it was just that you knew he was insecure. He was never going to admit it, but he was terrified of losing you to someone else. Lately, he’d seen you with other people, people who—per his insane, deranged mind—stared at you affectionately and touched you too comfortably. You weren’t complaining, not exactly. See, because, in his attempt to hide his emotions, he fucked you. A lot. Hard. Always with a hand around your throat, edging you until you finally said that you were his.

You liked those moments. Hell, you even liked afterward when he would either silently hold you on top of him, head on his chest to listen to his heartbeat or when he would set you on his side and play with your hair as he answered the questions you asked about his day. Commonly, it was family drama and he would get so angry and worked up a second time that he would fuck you again. Maybe even again after that. But you didn’t actually like the idea of making him feel like you weren’t completely committed to him.

So, you wanted to get in and get out. Maybe make dinner with Ransom, you planned to wear a tiny dress and tease him the whole time. You occupied your mind wondering where he would break. Inside the fancy restaurant? It wouldn’t be the first time. He loved fingering you at dinner with his family because of course, he was just that kind of asshole. Though...you were the one who hardly ever wore underwear... or maybe outside? He’d fucked you against many buildings, in several alleyways throughout your relationship.

His second text read: now I’ve found your plugs, that’s great. 

And the third: tell me where all of these things are. I’m getting rid of them. 

You didn’t even glance at your phone until your Uber was taking you home. It was like watching a murder, and by the time the fourth text came in, you were livid.

Fine, don’t tell me. I guess I’ll just have to find them.

You called him 27 times. He didn’t pick up once. You stormed into the house, straight up to your room. There was clothing everywhere, bras, panties, and corsets because he went through the dressers first. And okay, there were a few in there. The travel toys you’d gathered over the years, the vibrating bar necklace your best friend got you last year. They laid on the bed with the easier to find toys, the bigger toys, but also with that discrete lipstick vibrator that you’d hidden away in your makeup box.

He really had gone through most of your shit. "Ransom!"

"Closet," he growled.

You stormed in, shrieking incoherently when you saw your suitcases thrown everywhere. They were all opened, laying on either the floor or one another. Expensive bags were being treated like they were nothing, expensive bags that you had worked to afford.

"I’ve found 19," he informed, not bothering to turn back to you. He was moving to your jewelry box now and would be finding more. "Why don’t you just be helpful and tell me where they all are?"

"What the hell is wrong with you?!"

He didn’t respond.

"This is my closet, Ransom! This is my stuff, you have no right to be in my stuff!"

He finally faced you, eyes narrowed. "This is my house!"

You slapped him. So hard your hand was stinging sharply long after. And ran away like a child throwing a temper tantrum. It took him a moment, but he was soon chasing after you. You practically dove into the guest room before he could reach you. He wouldn’t hit you, never, but he would force you to apologize to him and you weren’t ready to do that yet.

It was definitely not your finest moment, but you just needed to cool down, think about things, plot how you wanted to proceed. You realized, alone in that room with too much time on your hands that this called for true revenge.

He couldn’t just go through your things. This wasn’t his house anymore. It had been, but then he asked you to move in. This was your shared house, just as much yours as it was his. He was not allowed to just go through your possessions. He had no respect for you or your belongings, and this wasn’t going to go unpunished.

You used two days to lure him into a calm, trusting place. He probably thought this was the worst of it: the silent treatment. You would only leave the room if he was gone and made sure to leave obvious signs about it. You wanted him to know that he wasn't preventing you from living in your house. You did, however, refuse to step foot in your shared bedroom.

On the third morning, you found an outfit in the laundry room and went shopping. The terrified look on his face when he saw how many bags you were holding was exactly what you wanted to see. He knew now that you were serious about this. But no apologies were made. Actually, he said you were acting like a brat, then left to hang out with his friends.

Brat? Not yet.

You moved freely for a couple of hours. He’d cleaned the bedroom, made sure your closet was spotless like it had been before he destroyed it—but it was simply too late. You happily stayed in the living room until you heard his car pulling into the driveway, then you dashed to the room to begin. He may have taken all your toys, but he couldn’t stop you from buying more.

You stripped naked and hopped on the bed. Little prep was needed, you’d been wet since you made the almost $500 purchase at the sex shop earlier, thinking about how angry you were going to make Ransom.

You started with a small vibrating plug and let yourself get used to that first. You could hear him moving about the house, slowly, cautiously, trying to see if your revenge was going to be easily spotted. Next, a simple, but larger vibrator that took you a moment to adjust around. You made the mental note to let him know the size—he would be livid. And finally, a vibrator for your clit.

When he knocked on the door, you were well on your way to your first orgasm. You remained as silent as you possibly could for a moment, eager for him to hear the vibrating. Then you tossed your head back and let out a moan. "Oh, fuck!"

"What...what do you think you are doing?" he demanded.

"Well," you sighed, "right now, I have a vibrator on my clit. 10 speed settings...I’m only on the third and I’m already so close."

"Y/N," he warned, "I swear—"

"And one in my pussy," you informed. “It’s so big... I wasn’t sure it was going to fit at first."

"Well, considering my cock fits, I think most things would. You know a fucking toy doesn’t compare to me."

"And a plug." You weren’t going to argue with him. "This one vibrates too. It feels so fucking good."

"Enough, open the damn door."

You turned off the vibrator inside you and pulled it out. "Can you hear how wet I am?" Slowly, you pressed it back in. You watched the toy sink into your pussy and immediately realized something. Maybe Ransom would like to watch as well... You set aside the vibrator that was pressed to your clit and grabbed your phone.

You began fucking yourself with the toy, biting your lip to keep your noises down. You knew Ransom wanted to leave but the loud, wet sounds from your pussy kept him at the door. Even when you couldn’t hear him, you just knew. He wouldn’t leave until he heard you finish.

You turned on the vibration once more and left it, picking up the other once more. You gasped when you settled it back to your clit. You were close, you knew it would just take a moment. You kept the camera aimed where you were working, no longer trying to stifle your moans and whimpers. You knew he was going to hate the sounds you were making because you weren’t saying his name with them.

"Baby?" you called out.

"You are in so much trouble," he asserted. "If you stop now, I might let you finish."

"If I don’t?"

"I swear I won’t make you come for a month."

"Clearly, I don’t need you." Okay, you were bluffing. An entire month not finishing on his cock? That did concern you, but you knew he was also bluffing.

"Open this door. Now."

"Just a second," you breathed. Your finish followed your words almost immediately. "Fuck! Oh, god, Ransom... I think these toys might be as good as you."

The door whipped open, a deafening crack filling the room. Turning your head, you found Ransom standing there, eyes wide and jaw set. He had never looked this angry.

Your mouth dropped when you saw the damage to the doorframe, you would have to call someone out there to fix it. Soon. Because you weren’t sleeping with him. Not unless he apologized and made it up to you. In diamonds and maybe a new car. "What the fuck is wrong with you?! You just kicked in the door, like, you're fucking ridiculous."

He stormed over to you, yanking the toy from your hand and tossing it on the bed. He pulled the second one from your clenching center, free hand gripping your thigh hard when he noticed how difficult it was to pull free from your tight pussy—god, he was going to miss that because no way in hell was he going to fuck you after this behavior. Finally, he pulled your plug out and you whimpered.

He glared at you.

Smirking, you held your phone out. "Watch the video I made for you, baby."

He tore it from your hand and did just that. He was already hard, you could see the bulge in his pants.

Sitting up, you reached out for him.

He slapped at your hand. "Don’t touch me."

"Fine." You laid back down, dipping your fingers into your folds.

He quickly noticed what you were doing, taking your wrist in his hand and holding it. "Stop."

You snorted, rolling your eyes.

He watched the entire thing and you knew his control was slipping, his fingers were digging into your skin—you couldn’t wait to see the bruises.

He threw your phone on the bed and turned back to you. "What the hell am I going to do with you?"

"You’ve never fucked my ass, you know that?"

His eyebrows pulled together. "You never asked."

"Wanna do it now?" You pulled your wrist away from him and rolled over, pushing your hips back to offer your ass up to him. "You can..."

"If?"

"If you apologize."

You were startled by his hand whipping across your ass. You rolled back over to face him, eyes wide. "What the fuck?!"

He grabbed your left calf and caught your right foot when you tried to kick him.

"Did you just spank me?!"

"You were acting like a brat." He yanked you down close to the edge of the bed and before you could say a word, his lips were against yours.

You had started to push him away by the shoulders but when he shoved his tongue into your mouth, you started pulling him back in. Your fingers tugged at his shirt, tangled in his hair and pulled, touched his jaw and cheekbones.

You guys didn’t make out often, the kisses were brief because Ransom was impatient and sometimes just needed to fuck you. 

He began to lay his body onto yours. You instantly wrapped your legs around him, grinding your bare pussy against his pants. He grabbed a handful of hair and tore your head back. His lips and teeth were all over your neck, moving down to your breasts.

"Ransom." Your hands found the button of his pants and you tore them open. "Fuck me."

He pulled away completely, leaving you on the bed as he re-buttoned his pants. "No."

You scoffed. "No?"

"No," he repeated. He hurriedly grabbed the toys on the bed before you could and left.

"So, you’ll take care of yourself?" you called out. "I could just use my mouth."

You heard his steps stutter, then he continued stomping away. Well, you hadn’t anticipated this turn of events, but you weren’t overly concerned. If you needed, you had fingers. If you were really desperate, you had a shower with a detachable showerhead.

For almost three weeks, Ransom would not let anyone enter the house to fix the door.

 Meaning for those three weeks, he would also sneak into bed with you. His mouth and fingers touched your pussy until you woke up. Then he would stop and just lay down next to you, refusing to let you sleep any place other than locked in his arms and against his chest.

You were furious but all of that was going to have to be placed on hold. Oddly, as much as you two fought, it never really coincided with your period. Though, you had a theory about why that was.

Ransom, control freak, had to know what was going on with your body at all times. Initially, you didn’t know what to make of it. It was always a toss-up with these rich, white men—were they going to be insanely immature about something as small as a period? Much to your surprise, not Ransom.

When you weren’t living together, he would always text you to make sure you were doing okay. If you weren’t, he would bring you food and something very expensive. When you were living together, it was impossible for him not to notice the more worrisome symptoms—the cramps, the headaches. The first two days were really the worst, you generally avoided leaving the house at the start.

That morning, Ransom found you in bed, curled up in a ball with your hand pressed to your forehead. As if that was going to ease the insane amount of pressure you felt behind your eyes. Thing was, you were supposed to be at work. That was one of the better things about only working for friends and trusted associates—they never thought you were calling in simply because you were hungover or something else even more unprofessional that was often associated with models.

"Thought you had a shoot today," he said.

"I had to cancel."

"Why?"

You didn’t answer. Shouldn’t he know by now? You really wouldn’t be surprised if he had a calendar marked with the expected dates.

"Oh."

But then, you guys had been fighting for how long? He probably missed it.

Those first few times he witnessed the cramps, he was actually immensely nurturing. It wasn’t like he had any responsibilities, so he sat with you in bed and let you lay on him, your back to his chest. He would place his hands on you and they were always so warm, you would just melt into him.

That soon changed. You had been in bed together one morning, it seemed just like any other time. But noon came and he told you to get out of bed and into the shower. You thought you were dying, you sure as hell couldn’t shower. But he would not accept that answer.

You weren’t sure why until he had the front of your body pressed to the tile wall, his hands on your hips as he fucked you so. So. So. Fucking. Slow. And after, he grabbed a few towels, set them over the bed, and laid you down to continue. You were confused and let him know, and all he said was that he’d read it would help with the cramps and the headache.

It had helped, but you figured it was a distraction more than anything. After that, it was just routine. Not that you didn’t have sex with him most nights, but he insisted on, every night of your period, fucking you until you were nearly unconscious. Those were the only nights he was gentle.

He sat down next to you, fingers brushing over your shoulder.

You recoiled from his touch. "Go away."

"Come on, baby, you know I can’t just leave you in pain like this." You heard him start to undress but made no moves to do the same. When he laid down next to you, he tried to urge you onto your back with a hand pulling on your shoulder.

"Ransom, stop. I’m not kidding."

He sighed, leaning over to kiss your face. "Let me help."

"You can help by leaving."

His warmth and the blanket you were curled up in lessened your resolve by a lot. He found it much easier to pull your shoulder away from your face, which he took full advantage of and began kissing over all of the skin he could reach.

"Ransom," you whined, trying to roll further away from him. He held you back by a hand on your hip.

"Shut up." Over the blanket, his hand slid up your stomach to your breast.

You hated that you moaned. Your brain knew you would regret this, but your body wanted nothing more than to give in to him. It was Ransom, after all, he was a complete tool sometimes but he always knew how to touch you.

He pulled the blanket down your body until he got to the hem of your sleep bottoms.

"Ransom, stop," you scolded. "I don’t want to ruin the sheets."

"Doesn’t matter, you won’t be sleeping in here anymore."

You turned your head back, catching his hand in yours. "Excuse me?"

"I said you’re done sleeping in here," he repeated. "You’ll be sleeping in our bed again."

"No, actually, I won’t."

He pulled his hand away from you and yanked the blanket away.

"Ransom!" You attempted to start sitting up but he pulled you back down by the shoulder.

Next, he worked on getting your underwear out of his way. There was nothing hot about this—you were wearing a pad because you didn’t want to have to get out of bed for a while and you were probably bleeding heavily. How could he be turned on at all?

He crawled down the mattress until he had your lower half completely free of clothing. He was only wearing his boxers now, the proof of his arousal the only thing you could focus on. You hated this, really, you did...but you knew how good he was about to make you feel...this wasn’t the worst way to deal with your period.

He didn’t want to give you the chance to argue so he quickly returned back to his spot at your back. His large hand pulled at the inside of your thigh, guiding your leg over his hips.

You tried not to want this, not to want him, but you were weak. He wasn’t all bad, you supposed. There was that time he took you to Paris for your birthday, the first one you shared with him. There was that time your parents were sick and had guilted you into taking care of them and the house while they couldn’t, and Ransom had shown up to help—forget all the snark and attitude he received from both you and your parents. And even though you were a completely functioning adult who could do anything for yourself and your career, Ransom was practically your bodyguard. Modeling was hard sometimes. People touched you, they looked at you. And you could always tell when it wasn’t appropriate. Ransom never blamed you, never told you that you’d done something to encourage it. He was unlike past partners in that way.

As he shoved his boxers down, you turned your head back to him.

"What? You okay, you need something?"

You leaned toward him further, paying no mind to the discomfort in your side at the odd angle you were turning yourself. "Just you."

He arched an eyebrow.

You set your hand to his face, fingers gliding along his cheek, under his eye, over his forehead. Why was he so beautiful? Who decided that this man should be given a face like this?

"You sure you’re okay?" he wondered, arm sliding over your waist to pull you in closer.

"My parents think that being with you is a bad decision. That's why they're doing all this shit."

"Yeah, they’re probably right about that."

You shook your head. "You take care of me."

He shrugged a shoulder. "We take care of each other. Now, are you done being sappy? I’d like to fuck you."

You huffed. "Well, that was a rare sweet moment. Thanks for ruining it."

He smiled. "Any time, baby."

Your breath caught when you felt him at your entrance. There was something different about fucking on your period. Maybe it was that you didn’t need the hour of foreplay to be able to take Ransom’s cock semi-comfortably. Or maybe it was just the misplaced intimacy of the whole ordeal. You didn’t hate it, hell, part of you was completely addicted to it.

But why would you ever tell him that? His eyes sparkled like they knew it anyway. Still, he would never have the satisfaction of hearing it.

He took your jaw in his hand, eyes locked on yours as he buried himself inside you.

"Ransom," you gasped. You grabbed his forearm, turning forward to lay your face on the pillow.

He thrust into you at a slow and steady pace. Certainly, he’d fucked you better before, but while you were so sensitive, it was just enough. His hand wound in your hair and he shoved your face down.

You moaned into the pillow as your orgasm built. You ran out of breath quickly and since he had you pinned down, you couldn’t breathe. You began thrashing against him, arms grabbing whatever part of him you could, you locked your leg around him tight so you wouldn’t be able to pull away, and you started to roll your hips back.

“Shit, baby,” he grunted. “Like it when I hold you down?”

You blurted out a response even though you knew he wouldn’t understand. You blamed the thoughtless action on the lack of air you were getting. It was almost thrilling to see where you’d get first, would you finish or would you faint? Would he even care? Would he just keep fucking you? The idea of being used like that did not turn you off as much as you wanted it to.

He did not let you up until you had come and he had gently fucked you through it. You lifted your face from the pillow, greedily taking in oxygen. He moved harder and faster for himself, but just slightly. His hand found your neck and he pulled you closer to him.

You had yet to completely catch your breath but you happily sunk unto his hold, placing one of your hands over his and digging your nails into his skin. He was wrapped around you, warm, maybe somewhat suffocating. This kind of sex was always like this, just toeing that fine line of overwhelming.

His hips stuttered as he turned his face into the bend of your neck. Several more times and he was spilling inside you, body still and cock as deep as you could take it.

He remained inside you as he slowly released your neck and began kissing over the skin there, anything to keep you as full of him as possible. He brushed his hands through your hair and whispered in your ear until he came down from his high.

You both just laid there for a moment, tired and thinking. It was clear he wanted to speak and you were now willing to listen, which were rare states for both of you, even rarer when it occurred simultaneously.

"You’ve been spending a lot of time with your parents lately."

He wanted to talk about your parents? Right now? After that? "They just got back from Scotland."

"Mhm." He leaned over to kiss you for a moment, just a soft press of his lips that was so unlike how he usually kissed you. "But usually, you invite me."

"You never want to go."

"But you always ask."

"I mean, we’ve been fighting, Ransom."

"Or maybe you’re considering other options."

You scoffed. "I’m not doing that, Ransom."

"Well, it’d be stupid if you were. You know no one can fuck you like I can."

You rolled your eyes. "Can you fuck me again? Can you shut up and just fuck me?"

"I understand where they’re coming from, why they don’t like me."

"Ransom," you groaned, shoving his hand away and turning back to the wall.

His fingers began tracing random patterns over your skin. "They think I can’t take care of their little girl, they’re just concerned."

"You know what? Your parents don’t like me either."

"My parents aren’t throwing other women at me—"

"That I know of—"

"No, don’t even try to turn this around. You were on a date with Max—"

"I was not! It was not a date." Only you two. Honestly, only you two would decide to start an argument while he was inside you.

"Megan told me what she saw—"

"And was that after or before you fucked her?"

"Don’t," he warned. "I have been committed to you since the day I met you."

You snorted. "The day you met me? Please. I’m done with this." You began sliding your leg back over but he grabbed your thigh and pulled it back.

He reached forward then, locking his arm around you and sliding his hand under your hip. Finally, he dragged himself back, so slowly.

You shut your eyes and bit your lip to keep quiet.

His hips snapped forward and your surprised yelp followed. "I’ve never dated anyone else—"

"How do I know that?" you demanded. "You’re a liar."

"I’ve never fucked anyone else, I’ve never even looked at anyone else. Since the day I met you, I knew that you were mine."

You weren’t sure if you believed that. Ransom was always complicated, you knew that from day one. You also knew that he knew a lot of women, that he liked to party, that he’d fucked most of his “friends” and that the usual routine was to do so during or after one of those parties.

He had started dragging you along with his friends about four months into your relationship. So, those first four months were always unclear to you. But prior, he would come to your apartment sometimes, smelling of alcohol and perfume and fuck you. You never asked questions and he never offered up the details. He was always gone in the mornings, so you figured that meant no strings.

The relationship change happened somewhat by force. Your parent’s lived about an hour away from your apartment, so it wasn’t often that you visited, but it wasn’t unheard of. One of your oldest friends had had a baby and she decided to return home to stay with her parents, your parent’s neighbors. You thought it would be fun to do the same, so you headed home and easily fell back into that whole scene.

Ransom texted you every day, almost every hour. You weren’t there for more than three weeks when he showed up at three in the morning on a Tuesday, wasted, pounding on the back door. To this day, it is unknown to you how his drunk ass even managed to get into the backyard.

Regardless, he only came because your friend had been posting non-stop pictures on Facebook and tagged you in one that she got of you talking to one of her brothers. Something he'd confessed after he also told you he couldn't stop thinking about you and that he missed you. Your first mistake was believing those lines.

He didn't leave until you agreed to return with him. The drive home was around the time he told you he found your apartment to be a "waste of time". It took him a total of three months to finally convince you to move in with him.

It didn't really matter at the end of the day. You didn't have evidence, but he did. This round was going to go to Ransom if you really kept pushing it. But it wasn't like he was anything near innocent.

"If you ever tell me that this is your house again, I'm leaving. Understood?"

"Yes. And you're not allowed to go on dates with other people. Understood?"

"Understood," you sighed. “Even though it was not a date. I would never date Max.”

He finally smiled. "Great, done fighting?"

You scoffed. "You went through my stuff."

"You hit me."

"I should have hit you more than once," you countered. But you didn't mean that, and you definitely shouldn't have hit him. "That won't happen again."

"I deserved it."

"No, let's just...talk about things, okay? Instead of reacting first and talking later."

He hummed. "Doesn't sound at all like us. But why not give it a shot?"

You’d wanted the house. The shit inside? Gaudy, outdated, mostly picked by Linda. You weren’t in the business of being cruel, however, you told her she could take legal possession of several things. If she wanted to buy it at the yard sale you decided to have.

It was the easiest way to get rid of Harlan’s stuff and to do so respectfully. Fans of his books who were nowhere near as rich as the 1% could still feel a connection to the late author without losing an arm and a leg. Throwing it all away like Ransom had suggested just made you feel like trash. He didn’t understand but he went along with it.

Probably because of how mad it made his mother. You’d decided to let Walt and Joni do a run through and take what they wanted, but since Linda had tried to physically assault Ransom when he told her he’d somehow gotten Marta to sign the house over to him, you were still waiting on her to extend a heartfelt and extensive apology to him. He said it was never going to come, but you figured she just needed a little convincing.

She’d shown up to the yard sale, screaming as Richard tried to reign her in. How could you seriously be selling a nightstand for $5? It was criminal. You were an idiot who had no idea how much this stuff cost. You were a scheming whore who had been planning this from day one. It was a pretty entertaining show, even Jacob agreed. He’d told you that night that her meltdown already had a million views.

Ransom was absent most of the yard sale. He did not want to talk to people and he did not want them talking to him. He showed up when he heard his mother shrieking and called the cops because he was a little bored. When they showed up, she started throwing things. It was nothing short of what you had expected, but when she started throwing things at Ransom, that was different.

She needed more convincing, you decided.

After the yard sale that only lasted three days—impressive considering Harlan was basically a hoarder—you were finally moving in. You pleaded with Ransom to hire no one. You wanted to do this with him. You wanted to pack and unpack just the two of you.

He acted like you were trying to murder him when you’d first asked, but he came around. You guys started with the closets, knowing that would be the most complex process. It took an entire day to move it all in and organize since the house was empty, you guys ended up sleeping on about twenty blankets on the bedroom floor.

Nothing was staying the same, mostly Ransom wanted to upset his family, but you just wanted to create a new home. You didn’t want to feel like you were living in Harlan’s house, you wanted to make it your own.

You weren’t taking Harlan’s room, that would be weird, and it was also an abnormally small room. The biggest room in the house was Joni’s former room, it had been empty since Neal died. Harlan refused to let anyone move anything that belonged to his son, but that was no longer an issue. It was also the only room with two closets, it was perfect.

Meg took Harlan’s room and Joni would keep hers. Walt, Donna, and Jacob were moved into one room, a decision made by Ransom. You didn’t necessarily agree but you weren’t going to start a fight with him for that subsection of the family. Especially since they were hardly ever going to be over, maybe just for the major holidays. Linda and Richard’s room under the stairs would remain but Linda was banned from the house until you felt satisfied with her attempts to gain Ransom’s forgiveness.

Not that he was actually upset with her, but he should have been! Something you did not hesitate to tell him any time you guys spoke about the issue. Regardless, any time Linda stepped foot on the property, the cops would be called.

Anything that belonged personally to Harlan, like his study, his office, the library, Ransom took special joy in taking everything out of it. He got rid of the books, the furniture, those stupid knives. He realized the books and the knives were very valuable and placed those online for bid. He didn’t want the money but he didn’t think it smart to sell them the same way you were selling everything else.

He didn’t tell you what he did with the money, but you saw a few emails a few days after the last knife was gone. He’d donated it. Ransom fucking Drysdale donated money! A few no-kill animal shelters, a couple of cancer foundations, a few domestic violence organizations, and then Planned Parenthood. Was it weird that you went to find him directly after just because you wanted to have sex with him? Like, you still knew he was a fucking asshole, but this was very nice.

The house was empty finally, save for the closets, of course. It was time to move all the boxes in and after, you guys could go shopping. That was the part you were both truly looking forward to. Ransom was going crazy without a bed, but he’d taken to fucking you against the wall, so not a major loss.

It only took about three hours, but Ransom acted like this was the hardest thing he’d ever done in his life. Well, it probably was. You were getting ready to go out furniture shopping. You were thinking of ways to talk Ransom into painting with you, not just getting someone to take care of it. Harlan seemed to be a fan of ugly wallpaper and flat colors. Also, ugly lamps, shades, and curtains. That was the first round of replacements, the furniture would be arriving within the next few days. You had to sign for so much and it was getting difficult keeping the times and scheduling, the last thing you wanted was to double-schedule anything and waste someone’s time.

You were rummaging through the unopened boxes when Ransom came downstairs. “Looking for something?”

“Yeah, have you seen my planner?”

“I think I packed it.”

“Do you happen to remember which box?”

“Keep getting ready, I’ll look for it.”

You smiled, turning up to find him texting. “Your mother?”

“Yeah,” he scoffed. “Just some more threatening. Maybe we should lift the ban—”

“No way.”

“Y/N—”

“Ransom, she tried to hit you. And then she was throwing things at you. Look, as shitty as my parents are, something can be said for the fact that they never hit me. That’s not actually normal.”

“She didn’t hit me when I was younger, don’t try to make this some battered child thing.”

“Ransom, this is our house and I don’t feel comfortable having your mother here until she understands that any sort of abuse directed at you is not okay…okay?”

He sighed. “Why is this the hill you want to die on?”

“I’m sorry that I dislike bad parents.”

“We all have bad parents,” he pointed out. “Everyone rich has bad parents because bad parents raise bad parents. It’s been the cycle since the creation of people who feel comfortable stepping on the poor to further their wealth.”

“Okay, don’t try to distract me by saying things that only an aware person would say.”

“I am aware. I just choose to ignore it. Wish you would do the same.”

“Really? Then why did you donate all that money, Ransom?”

“To get you to fuck me.”

You snorted. “Please, you know I’ve fucked you for a lot less money than that. And you’re wrong, okay? Not everyone rich has bad parents. My friend who had the baby a few years ago? Great parents.”

“I mean, I saw their house, they’re not that rich.”

“They don’t show off!” you corrected. “And don’t imply that you and I will ever be like our parents. My mother was controlling, and my father was dismissive, and Linda is insane and god, I can’t even explain how fucked up your father is. We are nothing like that and we never would be if…”

He lifted his eyebrows. “If we had kids?”

“That wasn’t what I was trying to say.”

He scoffed. “Yes, it was.”

“No, but…sure, that’s true. If we ever had kids…we would not be like that. I wouldn’t force our daughters to model or sing—did you know she tried to make me sing? Like, be an actual fucking singer. And I’m never going to try to make them be in a relationship with someone that they don’t like. You will not hit them, and you won’t…fuck our babysitter or our housekeeper or…whatever else, if we ever hire any of them.”

“Yeah?”

“But since you’re giving me that fucking smug look, you should know, there isn’t enough money in the world that could ever get me to carry your fucking children. Fucking sociopaths is what they’ll be, I’m sure. Terrible, little monsters just like you.”

���Okay.”

“Fuck you, Ransom, I’m going to do my makeup.”

He smiled. “I’ll look for your planner.”

You turned for the staircase with a heavy sigh. This was annoying because he still hadn’t said he loved you. It had been years and you had said it, and he did not, but he felt totally okay making fun of you for hinting that maybe one day, you guys would be a normal couple. Whatever, you would not let it bring you down, you would just retaliate by making him spend a lot of money.

You were just about finished when you heard him storming up the stairs. His mother? Maybe Joni. “Ransom?”

He walked into the room, holding a vibrator that he’d torn out of the box. “Are you serious?”

“Okay, that was unopened! You would know that if you weren’t some entitled child that just goes around ripping open boxes, Ransom!”

“I can’t actually believe you have this!”

“I haven’t used it!”

“Then why do you have it?!”

“Because…” you began.

He lifted his eyebrows.

“You might make me mad and I might need to repeat what I did the last time.”

“I cannot believe you would actually bring this into our house.”

“My god, Ransom, it’s not cocaine. Can we dial down the dramatics today?”

“You know what? You should keep this because I’m not fucking you any time soon.” He tossed it onto the counter and stomped out of the bedroom.

“Oh, my god!” you yelled. “You’re so fucking unbelievable!”

[starkeristheendgame]

Complicated Boyfriends and Cute Waiters

Just a little something for @starkerchemistry​ for all the love she threw at Complicated Boyfriends and Kidnapping. Also, pls reminds Chems of how amazing her work is bc the lil shit disagrees >:( Also for @starkerintheparker​ because I keep converting her to WinterSpider >;D WinterIronSpider.

Tony takes one look at his waiter and sighs heavily.

Not because there’s anything wrong; no. In fact, the plush lips and the shaped jaw and the mop of curls desperately styled into something resembling purposeful mess is actually quite pleasing. The large, honey eyes that widen in recognition don’t hurt either.

No. It’s because Tony knows Bucky is going to take one look at this twinky little slip in his smart shirt and his tie and he’s going to want.

And Tony so had been looking forwards to a quiet evening. A little wine, some $80 salmon and perhaps even getting dicked down into the next fortnight by his boyfriend. The standard casual night in.

“Mr. Iron Stark” the boy whelped, and immediately flushed scarlet at his mishap. Tony could only smile quietly into his book, endeared if a little mollified.

“I think ‘Tony’ would suffice” he responded demurely, sliding the bookmark into place and setting his book aside. The boy was now stood bolt upright, and had obviously steeled himself into giving the Best Service Ever, though he looked a little like he might crumble if Tony so much as looked at him for too long.

“Oh, god. Right. Yes. Mr - I mean, Tony. Of course. I’m sorry, I’ve only just started this job and I’m not used to...” The boy trailed off, clearly trying to think of a way to say ‘people like you’ without it coming across as a little insulting. Tony flashed him an easy, warm smile.

“Breathe, kid. I’m just like anyone else in person, I promise. How about you start me off with a nice, fruity red bottle and two double Presidential 25′s, if that’s okay? Take your time; Lord knows my boyfriend certainly is” he teased, head tipping as he disarmed the boy with another dazzling smile.

His waiter could only gape, before he shut his mouth with a painful sounding clack and spun on his heel, fleeing to the nether-regions of the employee zone. Tony gave an amused sound as he checked his phone. It wasn’t like Bucky to run late; that was Tony’s thing.

And then, like Beetlejuice and undoubtedly because Tony had been thinking of him, Bucky came sauntering into the restaurant like some sort of underwear model. His suit was a deep, silken black with a slightly lighter floral pattern in the fabric, the jacket hanging artfully off his shoulders as he swept the room for his lover.

His hair was styled neatly, and Tony still loved the more modernised cut that he’d opted for; longer on one side, layered and fluffy with bangs that fell over one eye constantly. His stubble was a neat shadow on his jaw, and his eyes focused on Tony with such intensity as he approached that Tony lifted a brow.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were trying to out-do me” Tony greeted as he leaned back in his seat, enough that Bucky could duck down and suck his lower lip into his mouth for a brief but promising kiss.

“Actually, I’m just trying to do you” Bucky shot back shamelessly as he slid into his seat, one leg immediately finding Tony’s under the table to press against. Tony gave an indignant sound, because it was both a truth and a lie, but let it go as movement caught the corner of his eye. Much as he wanted to watch the boy approach, he turned back to Bucky.

Storm-grey eyes slid away, following the path his own had left, and oh, yes. There it was. The subtle up-down of Bucky’s lashes as he sized up the boy, the curl of a smirk at the corners of his mouth. Bucky’s gaze drifted back to Tony in an undeniable stake of predator-prey. Tony could only tip his head in response, smirking slowly.

“H-here. I’m so sorry it took a while” the boy fretted, balancing a tray neatly on one hand as he set a tumbler of whiskey opposite each man, complete with artful glass freezer cubes and an empty, polished wine glass besides that, setting the bottle of red - freshly corked - in the centre of the table. He had to lean over a little to do so, and you would have had to be blind to miss the way that Bucky leaned back to sweep over his body.

“What did I say, darling? Treat me like any other rich shmuck in this place. And don’t mind him, he only bites if you ask nicely” Tony hummed, gesturing to his boyfriend, who eyed him both like he wanted to throttle him and kiss him senseless. In Tony’s experience they often came one with the other regardless.

“I - Sorry?” It came out as a question, but the boy was flushed from hairline to shirt collar and fumbled with his notepad, hands a little shaky as he produced a pen from his breast pocket. “Um, are you ready to order? Or would you like me to give you another minute?” He asked, and it was impossible to miss the way his gaze flit between them, eyes raking their bodies like they were two cuts of steak he was trying to decide between.

“Oh, I think Bucky knows what he wants, alright” Tony purred in obvious, gleeful amusement. Bucky smiled at him in a flash of canine, but didn’t miss a beat as he tipped his head back, eyeing the waiter with a charming smile.

“I’ll settle for the stripped, gold-crust steak served rare, and your name, since this moron was clearly too impolite to ask”. And ooohhhh, wasn’t that a low blow to gain favour? Tony pressed the toes of his Louboutin’s into Bucky’s own none too gently.

“Peter” the waiter blurted, eyes flitting between them as he scribbled down Bucky’s order in impressive short-hand, gaze drifting to Tony, who only smiled serenely at his boyfriend.

“You’re so predictable. Always going for the tender, high-class meat. Always liking it raw” Tony purred, and they both knew he wasn’t talking about the steak. Bucky only gave an elegant shrug in response; at a loss to deny it. Peter was looking between them again, vaguely like he might know they were talking about sex, but unable to address it.

“What can I say? I like something solid to sink my teeth into. I like a little juice to lick at and taste. And you of all people know I prefer it raw” Bucky replied steadily, gaze not leaving Tony’s.

“I’ll have the salmon, please, Peter.” Tony hummed, gaze leaving Bucky to look sweetly up at the boy, who nodded and turned, striding away like he was desperate to run away. Tony let his gaze drop back to Bucky. “Less wolf, more fox. He’s a skittish young thing. Haven’t I taught you anything about hunting?” He sighed in mock admonishment and Bucky reached across the table to cup his jaw, smirking.

“Doll, I was fucking people in back-alleys long before you were born. You taught me nothing, old man”. And, well. Rude. “You’re right, though. We might spook him off at this rate. Last time I saw someone that red it was Clint, and he was choking on a mint”. Bucky leaned back, picking up his whiskey and taking an indulgent sip.

They made comfortable small-talk over the time it took for their meals to arrive, Tony lamenting the boredom he’d faced at the quarterly performance review and Bucky noting the progress he and Steve were making with their veteran programs. Tony was proud of his man, really. He’d come so far since Steve had shown up at the Tower with him, both sopping wet and bloodied.

Peter came back no longer than ten minutes later, a plate upon each hand. He delivered Tony’s first, bending down to slide the plate onto the table, and Tony couldn’t resist leaning over, flashing a sweet smile at the boy up close, where he could see flacks of green in his eyes. “Thank you, darling” he murmured, and Peter’s cheeks went red yet again, like Tony simply speaking to him was an activation button for a blush.

Bucky, the brat, had to go one extra. Instead of giving Peter room when the boy bent down he crowded in close, practically licking the shell of the boy’s ear as he whispered a sultry "Thanks, Doll”. Peter’s gaze jerked to Tony, alarmed, but Tony only half-rolled his eyes and picked up a delicate mouthful of smoked salmon.

“You’re a pest” he noted, once Peter had stammered his way into retreating once more. “I had a quiet evening planned” he added, as though it mattered. It didn’t. This practically was his quiet evening, he just now had two desserts instead of one. By the way Bucky eyed him, he knew that, too.

“Shut up and eat your fish” Bucky drawled, popping a cut of dripping steak with tiny flecks of gold powder into his mouth. Obnoxious prat.

But Tony did as told, polishing off the salmon and whiskey both, and filling their wine glasses with a generous serving. It was sweet and rich, just his taste, and he wondered if another waiter hadn’t advised Peter on which choice to bring. “So. The choice is yours” he announced after a pause, when Bucky had finished his own meal and was sniffing daintily at the wine.

“You wanna play sheepdog, or am I?” Bucky asks in answer, lips curving into a wicked smirk that has Tony grinning in response, leg twisting around Bucky’s in a hidden touch. Tony shifted his wine glass in response, allowing a few measly drops to fall onto the edge of his jacket. Good thing he wore grey and hated this suit anyway, because that red wasn’t gonna come out.

Bucky only rolled his eyes, because they’d played this game before, and pushed to his feet. “Woof woof, bitch” Bucky murmured, low into Tony’s ear as he passed, and Tony resisted the urge to drag him back by his hair, to put him on his knees right then. Largely because of he had one more PR disaster this month Pepper got his custom Audi, and he only had four days to go.

It took another short collection of minutes for Peter to come practically skipping over; during which Tony had splashed a few more drops for good measure. “Oh, Peter. D’you think you could help a clumsy old man out? Buck’s gone on a phonecall and I tipped my wine” Tony pouted, putting on his best helpless, sweet aura. Peter’s eyes zeroed in on the red splashed at his hips, tongue peeking out like the solution was to lick it clean.

“Of course! I can - I’ll see if there’s any stuff behind the bar? I can be right back” Peter breathed, but Tony shook his head, pushing to stand. Peter’s eyes are wide now, like a startled deer. They’re stood close enough for Tony to note he has almost a full head on the boy. For a man who’s boyfriend towered over him, it made him rather smug.

“Oh, no need for all of that. Just come to the men’s with me to help me dab the wet patches, hm? At least I won’t reek like a wine cellar on the way home”. He added a charming smile for good measure, turning on his heel. He didn’t need to look to know Peter would follow obediently. Refusing Tony Stark wasn’t good for business, after-all.

Bucky is perfectly concealed when he swings the door open, shrugging out of his jacket and listening to the clack of another polished shoe on the tiles as Peter steps in after him, practically vibrating with nervous energy. Tony carelessly draped his jacket over the edge of the sink and begun to run the tap, because what was a story without details?

Peter hovered closer, clearly unsure of why it would take two men to wash a jacket. “I - What do you need me to do, Mr. Stark?” The boy asks not a moment later, and Tony can’t bite back a grin. Peter has wandered around to his right, which means when Bucky makes his dramatic entrance, it’s gonna be behind the kid.

“Oh, nothing you don’t want to, darling. But if you do want to, then just stand there and let me make you feel good, hm?” He asked, head tilting as he turned off the tap and took a step closer. The hitch of Peter’s breath is audible.

He doesn’t step away, though. Interesting.

“Y-You’re here with your boyfriend” Peter whimpered, even as Tony’s hands came up to his shoulders and chest, petting gently. He trembled under the touch, but didn’t back away, sucking his lower lip into his mouth. Over Peter’s shoulder Tony can see Bucky swing around the edge of a stall door, prowling quietly closer, but he doesn’t dare look up, doesn’t dare alert Peter of the predator at his heels.

“I wouldn’t worry about hurting my feelings, Doll” Bucky purred, low and raspy in Peter’s ear as he pressed up against Peter’s back, until the boy was a pretty little sandwich filler. Peter actually yelped, driving forwards into Tony’s chest, and Tony let his hands fall to slim hips, holding him steady.

“Now, Bucky” he chided, voice softening. “What do we do before we play?” He asked, arching a brow as Peter panted between them. Bucky cast him a pouty but gentle look.

“We ask for consent” he hummed, metal hand reaching up to gently brush aside a curl when Peter whipped around to face him, lips parted.

“Good boy” Tony murmured, gaze dropping back to Peter. They take a step away from him in unison, giving the poor thing some room to breathe. “So. That means you can tell us to stop, and we’ll walk out, pay our bill, and we won’t approach you this way again. Or...You can say yes, and we’ll be gentle, but we’ll make you feel good” he continued.

Peter shifted between them, looking cautious but also like he was two breaths away from sinking to his knees. His voice is small, rough when he finally speaks. “If...What will you do? To make me feel good?” He whispered, and Tony and Bucky wore matching, slow smirks.

“Well. I’m more of a practical person” Tony drawled, eyes roaming Peter’s face for confirmation. He found it in a weak nod, the boy’s pupils blowing as he advanced closer and reached out, him and Bucky closing Peter between them once again. Peter was small between them, lips bitten and eyes wild as Bucky reached down, sliding metal fingers along the curve of his ass and between his thighs, rubbing there like you’d finger a girl, his other hand winding around to press flat over Peter’s stomach.

A wrecked, torn sound slips from Peter’s throat, practically collapsing against Bucky as Tony’s hand dripped down, palming over the half-hard bulge there none too teasingly, the other hand cupping his jaw and tipping his head.

“We’ve maybe got five minutes or less” Tony breathed, licking into the corner of Peter’s plush, pink mouth as Bucky pressed up against him, dropping to mouth at his neck. “I can think of a few things to do”.

[another-dra-anew]

jasper told me “you could always just make hcs for the beta au” and now my power has gone out of control, part 3/??? aka: he requested these this time

~*~ Beta Syouri

•asmr yuri infodumps to syobai abt space

•yuri totally confessed to syobai i'm right, it's my au and i'm right

•at least. that's how they call it

•syobai is the type to go "ily bro!!" and even he doesn't know if he means it platonically or not

•so yuri was like "...well i don't mind bc i love being ur friend and i'd be happy to be ur bf if that's what u wanted"

•syobai is oddly casual abt it?? he's all "haha sure dude sounds great!!!"

•so yuri is a bit thrown off

•that is, until a few days later when syobai starts knocking at yuris door at 1 am, armed with a variety of snacks, a plethora of movies, and the intense desire to cuddle

•yuri falls asleep comfy in syobais arms, at around 7 in the morning, and doesn't wake up until 2pm, where he sees that his role with syobai has almost switched, with syobais head now on his chest, and he just kinda goes "...oh, there's the loving energy"

•it takes the class a hot sec to work out they're dating!!

•bc even before hand, shsl scaredy cat yuri was prone to clinging onto syobais hand/arm, sitting in his lap, etc etc

•it takes the observant/investigative group of kokoro, sora and nikei spending multiple days looking around at how they're acting before they realize what's going on

•not that syobai and yuri are trying to hide anything!

•yuri just. does not want the attention

•anniversaries and the lime with them is fun!!

•syobai will "convince" some rich man into giving him a boat to use for a week

•so they spend the time sailing around bc syobai is happy, and yuri never really goes on boats back home, so! it's good times all around

•syobai. constantly forgets that yuri has money too

•so yuri will get him some expensive gift and syobai is just :00000!!!!!!

•despite all his money, syobai,, doesn't really have a home?? it's just a hassle for him;;

•which means that when he does go to yuris house for the first time, and he just sees this massive house, he's really awestruck

•pov: u bring ur bf to meet ur parents for the first time and watch as he gets them drunk and gets them to give him half of the family fortune while sipping his grape juice.

•oh!! they go shopping together a lot, and yuri feels very thrown off if he doesn't watch syobai pay for 20 kids to get something to snack on, tip all of the workers at least 50%, slip money into peoples bags, etc etc

•yuri goes to sleep over at syobais dorm for the first time and syobai is h y p e d

•he immediately covers yuris eyes, and turns the lights off - the ceiling and walls are covered in glow and the dark stars. the walls have accurate constellations on them.

•syobai has immediately prepared star/moon shaped snacks. yuri almost cries

•if yuri ever has a especially rough day, syobai just goes "oh self care time??"

•he'll go all out grabbing anything and everything to make yuri feel better. in under 90 seconds, yuri is sitting down under a blanket, eyes shut as syobai cuddles him, just letting him vent abt how people are dumb and won't respect that he's uncomfy with certain things still

•they have dates that are just. using window markers to draw on every window they can find. class 80-As dormitory looks like a galaxy

•syobai: haha ur tiny so u can't fluster next by initiating kisses

yuri, abt to prove him wrong: oh?

•rich gay bfs who spend their money on each other and those around them spend all their time holding hands and comforting each other: more at 8

[floorbed]

pen playlist tiem. brain full of thoughts i think this is my longest playlist ever . lyrics and annotation and sections under the cut for funsies heh

home

me and my husband - mitski

and i am the idiot with a painted face / in the corner taking up space / but when he walks in i am loved / i am loved / me and my husband we’re doing better / it’s always been just him and me together / so i bet all i have on that furrowed brow / and at least in this lifetime we’re sticking together

turf war - momma

the kings and queens are on the court / they’re sitting pretty on the floor

this charming man - the smiths

a jumped up pantry boy / who never knew his place / he said return the ring / he knows so much about these things / he knows so much about these things

utopia - cowgirl clue

living in a great utopia is quite nice is quite nice / living in a great utopia you pay the price you pay the price / living in a great utopia roll the dice kiss goodbye / living the dream living the dream living the dream

bubblegum bitch - marina and the diamonds

got a figure like a pin up got a figure like a doll / don’t care if you think i’m dumb i don’t care at all / candy bear sweetie pie wanna be adored / i’m the girl you’d die for / i’ll chew you up and spit you out / cus that’s what young love is all about

…

oh dear diary, i met a boy

(do the) act like you never met me - tv girl

the hidden kisses / the clumsy conspiratory glance / but i don’t really mind it no / i always liked the way you danced

it will come back - hozier

don’t give it a hand / offer it a soul / honey make this easy / leave it to the land / this is what it knows / honey that’s how it sleeps / don’t let it in with no intention to keep it / jesus christ don’t be kind to it / honey don’t feed it it will come back

real men - mitski

little boys cry and look around for comfort and / always get what they want

song against sex - neutral milk hotel

and he said oh boy you are so pretty / enough to wrap tight in rice paper string / and when i finally kissed him / the whole world began to ring / lost like a bell that’s tipping over / with two cracks along both sides / and i knew the world was over / so i took a look outside

(running away before the trial and seeing the world for the first time vibes!)

exile, early party

april and the phantom - animal collective

i’m sorry april / but you’ll be fine till then / i’m the phantom / i’m the phantom / i’m the phantom

(Pens First Summoning Dot Mp3)

insects are all around us - money mark

(from pens very first introduction in session 1 when he was walking in the woods and was described like looking like a lil insect)

bug - alex g

and when you go there / you stay there / bug in the crosshair / you stay there

king of carrot flowers pt 2 & 3 - neutral milk hotel

i love you jesus christ / jesus christ i love you yes i do

you’ll miss me when i’m not around - grimes

if you don’t bleed then you don’t die / cross my heart and hope to fly / if you like it then you’ll make it out alive / if they could see me now / smiling six feet underground / i’ll tie my feet to rocks and drown / you’ll miss me when i’m not around

rich bitch juice (HANA remix) - alice longyu gao

don’t you dare talk to me / bitch

fool - moonbounce

you could’ve let me think im right / i could’ve tried to keep my cool / i could’ve followed my own rules / i could’ve used you like a tool / i could’ve played a fucking fool

isle

hooped earrings - the front bottoms 

and you have gotta do this now or you can never come home again / yeah you have gotta do this now or you can never come home again / and there are not so many options / there’s not so many ways that this could possibly end / so you have gotta do this now or you can never come home again

wicked boy - alex g 

real men walk / on the outside / on the outside / on the outside / and they take it for the team

black hair - alex g

it’s not what you are / it’s just what you did / don’t hang up the phone / i love you to death / eternal return / eternal return / eternal return / eternal return 

rabbit heart - florence & the machine

this is a gift it comes with a price / who is the lamb and who is the knife / when minas is king and he holds me so tight / and turns me to gold in the sunlight

oh ana - mother mother

i’ll fake god / i’ll fake god / i’ll fake god / i’ll fake god today / hop up on a cloud and watch the world decay

i am my own hell - teen suicide

i’m learning all kinds of tricks / how to drain the blood from my face

brick - alex g

i know that you’re lying / you think i don’t but i always fucking do

come back - alex g

made my promise and i’m keeping it for kicks / yeah i really didn’t think that it would stain like this / yeah i really didn’t think that it would stain like this

river of the night 

trick - alex g

(this is what his Contract Signing Dream sounded like that’s all)

call this # now - the garden

call this number now / if you wanna check it out / well just do yourself a favor and just call this number now / call this number now 

long way down - teen suicide

you’re a spoiled kid who’s never gonna get / anything that you deserve / i know this life’s gonna be just fine / but with any luck you know the next one’s gonna hurt

business man - mother mother

talkin bout the business man / devil with a sunday plan / buddy with a stupid laugh / just talkin bout the business man / pretty little baby / pretty little monster / went to the good school / left with honors

king rat - modest mouse

deep water / deep water / senseless denial / i went down like a rag doll rat of a child

oh lucky lucky lucky lucky me again / i said it looks like i’ve got to use my feet again / well i just spent my last one hundred dollars / god i’ll pay my bill again 

after dying and being saved

new gods - grimes

hands reaching out to new gods / you can’t give me what i want / but what do i know? / i wanna i wanna i wanna let go / i wear black eyeliner / black attire yeah / so take me higher and higher and higher

…

only brand new gods can save me

home again - carole king

sometimes i wonder if i’m ever gonna make it home again / it’s so far and out of sight / i really need someone to talk to and nobody else / knows how to comfort me tonight / snow is cold rain is wet / chills my soul through the marrow / i won’t be happy till i see you alone again / till i’m home again and feeling right

miracle - paramore

and have i told you / i’m not going / cuz i’ve been waiting for a miracle / and i’m not leaving / i won’t let you / let you give up on a miracle / when it might save you

(Pen And Ori. Pen Telling Ori He’s Not Going To Stay At The Castle [Bc He Couldnt Imagine Not Seeing Her Everyday.] Pens Naive Optimism + His Want T.o Make Her Feel Better Abt The Future and The World And Everything)

dinner and diatribes - hozier

i knew it from the first look of / the look of mischief in your eyes / friends are a fate that befell me / head is the talking type / i’d suffer hell if you’d tell me / what you’d do to me tonight

(Pen And Juni Anthem)

funny - the scary jokes

and i laughed and i laughed and i gasped and i cried / and i tried not to think of my love as a punchline / but i knew the truth would catch up with me sometime / and oh what a funny joke am i

(pen crying on the bed in castle ravenloft dot mp3)

pretty funny - dogfight (lindsay mendez)

isn’t it funny?  isn’t it funny?  aren’t you funny? / pathetically naive and desperate to believe you could always find some good / well you misunderstood or you’ve been dreaming / cus people are just cruel

(pen crying on the bed in castle ravenloft dot mp3 Part 2)

until it goes - john congleton

oh my vengeance i swear will be biblical

…

my bride my bride how do i silence / this restlessness inside me / inside i see it kneeling through keyholes / my bride i need no absolution / on this day of my execution / just stay with me stay with me stay with me stay with me until the horror goes

(abandonment issues pen be like *stay with me stay with me stay with me stay with me noises*. also one day i want pen to hurt everyone who has severely fucked with him and thats all [m****** and d******])

beautiful - carole king

you’ve got to get up every morning / with a smile on your face / and show the world all the love in your heart / then people gonna treat you better / youre gonna find yes you will / that you’re beautiful as you feel

don’t ask me to explain - of montreal

i’d like to marry all of my close friends / live in a big house together by an angry sea / am i the devil’s marbles don’t move on without me / who will be watching my body when i sleep / who will i believe in

(Pen Be Like I Love Ori And Juni And Alba And That Is My Disease. )

100 years - florence welch

i believe in you /and in our hearts we know the truth / and i believe in love / even the darker it gets the more i do / you try and fill us with your hate and we will shine a light / and the days will become endless / and never turn to night

...

a hundred arms / a hundred years / you can always find me here / and lord don’t let me break this / let me hold it lightly / give me arms to pray with / instead of ones that hold too tightly 

[mollymauk-teafleak]

The night we shared for the first time + hamliza (bc who else) please?

Here it is, the AU you’ve all been waiting for! 

Best Friends and a Baby AU!

(Also, seeing as it’s my birthday, if you fancy giving me an amazing, completely free of charge present you could always leave a comment on this or any of my fics on Ao3! And for the more affluent, I have a ko-fi)

Forthe second time in as many weeks, Alexander Hamilton found himself on aspectacularly, singularly uncomfortable chair, looking at his best friend withan utterly staggered expression in his wide, brown eyes and straining his earsthrough the ambient chatter around him in the vain hope that he’d just misheardand she didn’t just say what he thought she’d said. It was a pretty damnspecific situation to be in but it was one that he was starting to find eerilyfamiliar; one he assumed with a sinking heart he wasn’t through with.

“I’msorry, it’s how much?” he stressed, his hands shifting restlessly in thedeep pockets of the hoodie he wore, a nervous, fidgeting tic he’d been doingsince he took his seat in the waiting room and hadn’t stopped or even slowed.

Elizasighed deeply, tiredly and pulled the stiff pamphlet the doctor had just givenher out from under her arm and pushed it across the seat between them towardsAlex, the relevant page open so she wouldn’t have to say it again and tastethat sour disappointment.

“Fuckinghell,” Alex winced at the sight of the figures almost apologetically printed onthe page, a breakdown of all the medications needed and the consultanciesrequired and the procedures involved, each with its own piece of stone to addto the enormous boulder of a sum at the very bottom line.

“Yeah.That about sums it up,” Eliza allowed with a forced shrug, “And I’d have totake time off work too. For yet more hospital appointments.”

“Oh,”Alex grunted, biting his lower lip and freeing one hand from his cavernoussweater to play with his hair, a sure sign that he’d shifted onto a whole otherplane of anxiety. He knew how much Eliza despised hospitals, it was a miracleand a testament to how much she wanted this that she was even here today, “That…that sucks.”

‘Sucks’felt like it fell a few thousand miles short of what this situation was. Alex’sstomach felt like it had detached from whatever biological skulduggery held itin place and was bouncing loose inside his stomach, the sensation someone wouldprobably have if they’d been riding one of those proper skull-shattering,skeleton-rearranging roller coasters for two weeks straight. Which was prettymuch exactly what Alex had been experiencing, albeit in more of an emotionalthan literal sense.

Hecouldn’t deny that the overwhelming emotion he’d felt when it had become clearthat his best friend didn’t intend for this to be one of their usual lunchdates where they spouted bile about their colleagues who were driving them upthe wall (mostly Alex) or entertained with stories of what ridiculous RichPeople Shit their family had pulled this week (exclusively Eliza), the emotionthat ruled his mind in that instant was fear. He refused to feel guilty forthat and knew Eliza wouldn’t expect it of him. How else was he supposed toreact when the girl whose right-hand man he’d been since the very first day ofcollege, when he’d made an admittedly shaky but impactful first impression bywalking into her and spilling black coffee down the both of them, took hishands across their usual table at their favourite place to eat in the city andasked him in that firm but quiet voice of her’s if he’d mind having a baby withher. She genuinely did phrase it like that, of course she did.

She’dclarified a little better after Alex had recovered from choking on his soda andspending ten minutes hacking and spluttering loud enough to turn most otherheads in the cafe towards them. Her eyes had grown anxious and her cheeks hadturned pink as she’d insisted that she wasn’t asking anything of him but asperm donation, she’d thought about this so carefully and agonised over it formonths, she couldn’t think of anyone better than him, she trusted him, if hedidn’t want to be involved with…what it produced, no obligation at all, ofcourse she’d understand…

Allwhile Alex felt like someone had whipped away the classy hardwood floorsunderneath his feet and left him spiralling through empty space. Memories he’dhoped to never feel invading his brain again were piling up faster than hecould tip them back down into the darker recesses of his mind, giving him thesensation of swarms of spiders clambering and skittering over him, gettingunder his skin. The word father didn’t have amazing connotations forAlex, it never had, but he’d been able to avoid it for a long time while he wasat college and law school, only getting the slightest roiling stomachs andsweaty palms and lips chewed until they bled when his friends would talk abouttheir children, Lafayette and Martha and even John would talk of his daughteroften and fondly. Of course, the panic would only last until he actually metthe little sprogs, they were all cute and funny and liked how their Tio Alexkept marker pens in his pockets so they could colour in his tattoos; theanxiety never held up long after that but there would still be that twinge deepin his stomach at the word alone. He wasn’t sure that was ever going away butat least it was small enough to cope with.

Andthere he was in the middle of the cafe, trying to hide a goddamn riot behind agrin that was turning into a grimace and eyes that were far too shiny to beconsidered normal. And somewhere in the middle of it all, while his back wasturned and his brain occupied with damage control, with putting out as manysmall fires on the inside of his skull as he could before it could turn into aconflagration, a ‘yes’ slipped past his gritted teeth.

Bothhim and Eliza had been utterly stunned by that, nothing passing between thembut a shared look of slack, wide eyed surprise. Alex hadn’t even been awarethat there was a ‘yes’ lurking somewhere, battling its way through his anxiety,through beating winds and raging storms to climb off his tongue ahead of thefrantic screech that oh fuck, he just remembered he’s parked by a meter and heleft his iron on at home and he doesn’t speak English and he only has two moreseconds to live, please excuse him…

Butit had worked so hard to get there…so he supposed that was his answer?

Sohere Alex was, being confronted with the damnable highway robbery that was theAmerican medical system and trying to platonically make a baby with his bestfriend. What exactly his game plan was in the moment his…stuff mixed up withEliza’s…stuff and made…more stuff and he was technically no longer neededaccording to the laws of biology, of that he wasn’t exactly sure. He could tellEliza was wondering but she hadn’t pressed, she’d only began to cry and leaptacross the table to give him one of her patented, full body, vice tight hugsthat showed how much unexpected strength was in those delicate arms of her’s.Alex didn’t really think he deserved so much thanks, that he’d earned that lookof awe and adoration in her eyes when she looked at him ever since that fatefullunch date, just for saying yes to jacking off into a specimen cup. That’s allhe’d said a firm yes to. In the few weeks since that day, he’d been franticallycombing his mind for another scrap of certainty to present itself and tell himwhat his brain wanted but it seemed to have completely dried up after the firsttime. Which was pretty fucking rich of his brain, to get him into thissituation and then bail entirely, leaving him with just a terrifying, panicstreaked blankness.

Buthe was here. He loved Eliza, he wanted to help and he’d hold to his promise.Besides, it was only himself he was terrified over, he knew without a singleshred of doubt that Eliza would be a fantastic mother, so wonderful and perfectfor the job that it would be kind of criminal to deprive a child of being bornbelonging to her. Maybe that love and assurance would be enough to cancel outhis contribution…

“Howis it so expensive?” Alex exclaimed, reading the paper again like he could willit to be more palatable, “I mean…isn’t it just like a fancy turkey baster?”

Elizascrewed up her face, making her nose that could only be described in that clichédbut sweet way as ‘button’ crinkle adorably, “Ew, Alex.”

“I’mpretty sure that’s what it is,” Alex crossed his arms defensively, “I did do myreading.”

Hehad, in fact. Alexander Hamilton didn’t do anything without researching itfully first.

Elizaran her fingers through her hair, twisting it into curtains around her facelike she always did when she was stressed, “Well…I guess we can’t do thisright now.”

Alexwinced. He’d love to offer to cover the cost of the procedure, hell even halfof it would do, but college and law school had left him with a crippling amountof debt and not an awful lot else. He’d arrived on his very first day with nextto nothing and had somehow come out the other side with even less.

“Couldyou ask your parents?” he suggested, not liking the idea even as it came out ofhis mouth but he just wanted to do something to take that devastated look offher face.

Elizalooked down at her hands, retreating even more into the sanctuary of her hair,“Um…I would but…they aren’t really fans of the idea.”

Thatjarred him. Not only was Eliza making this huge decision, and entrusting awhole huge chunk of her future happiness to him, she was doing it without thesupport of her parents. Alex wouldn’t be surprised if this was the first timein the twenty-six years she’d been alive that such a thing had happened.

“Oh…”Another thought closed up his throat and made his fingers tense into fists,“Are they…not fans of the whole idea or of the fact that it’s gonna be mybaby?”

Eliza’seyes widened, ‘Oh! Oh, no, no it’s not that, I promise. They’ve not liked itfrom the start, I told them I was thinking about it a while ago and well…thereaction wasn’t great. They just don’t get it.” Her voice grew so faint and sadat the end, her eyes dropping, her tone resigned but as if she’d still hopedfor better in spite of the evidence.

“I’m sorry, Bets…” Alex murmured in as soft a voice as he could evermanage, reaching across and taking her hand, gently moving it from pulling ather hair to clasping it in his lap with both of his own. If there was anyonewho understood general parental shittiness, it was him.

“Hey,it’s okay,” Eliza said, smiling with her usual quiet bravery, “I don’t mind.This is just a setback, right? We can come back to this in… I don’t know, ayear or so. Less if I let my car finally die and start roller-skating aroundNew York. Hey, maybe I’ll have an even more stable job and this will turn outto be for the best?”

“Morelike you’ll find a much better sperm source,” Alex lifted an eyebrow, smilingcrookedly.

“Hey…”Eliza socked him lightly on the arm, “Stop that. I don’t want anyone else, youknow that.”

Alexchuckled, appreciating the lengths she’d go to in defending him from himself,in silent awe of her which, in fairness, was how he spent most of his timearound Eliza. But he knew that face. He’d seen that face at 2am when they’dbeen sharing a cab back from the bar and she’d stuck her head out of the windowto see the lights rushing by and feel the wind in her hair. He’d seen that faceat half past eight, with thirty minutes to go before their final exam, blearyeyed with wild bird nest hair and a look of fierce, caffeine fuelleddetermination the likes of which he’d never seen. He’d seen it illuminated fromwithin like there was some kind of power source behind her eyes that otherpeople didn’t seem to have, a kind of sun that worked on pure joy and wonder,so bright that it could even warm someone like him. He’d seen that face nearlyevery day of his life for the past six years and he knew how to read it.

Andright now, he could see plain as day that Eliza was devastated.

She’dlooked so excited, that joy there again, as she’d taken him through all thethinking and daydreaming she’d done about this, how she’d known the time wasright now that she’d gotten herself a low paying but at least steady job, doingsome kind of clerk or data stuff type for one of the orphanages in town. It hadthe right hours, she could advance in time and with the time she’d beenspending with Dosia’s two boys and Martha’s little Frances and the gaggle ofkids Laf had been producing since the scarily young age of eighteen, she justwas so certain that this was what she wanted. And a year was a hell of a longtime to wait for something you wanted that badly.

Maybeit was that thought, that desperate need to offer her some kind of help, orelse pure and simple stupidity, the rise of his chronic and terminal foot inmouth disease, that made Alex say what he then said next. Or maybe it wassomething else entirely. Maybe, and this was a pretty shaky maybe, it was hisown want for this crazy, insane thing to happen. Maybe it was the fact that, asterrified and confused as this whole thing had made Alex at the start, rightnow? The thought of having to let go of the idea was more than he could bear.

So,he said it.

“Well,why don’t we just do things the old-fashioned way?” he tilted his head, tonelight and airy but there was no solid evidence that he was joking, “You andme?”

Elizalooked at him, a snarky comeback loaded and ready to go on her tongue but whenshe saw his face, her face became a mask of comic surprise.

“Theold-fashioned way?” she asked in a voice that was half scandalised, halfastounded, “As in…like…that.”

“Sex,Eliza, yes,” Alex filled in the gap for her, “You and me. Having sex. To make ababy. That is how it’s worked for thousands of years so…”

Elizagaped at him, reminding Alex of something his mama used to say, about closingyour mouth before you started catching flies. Absurdly calm, enough to reachover and delicately bringing her lower jaw up to close her lips, Alex smiledbemusedly. There didn’t seem to be any flies in here but you could never be toocareful.

“Imean…” he clarified, “This is something people do, right? They hook up forreasons other than, y’know, that they’re in a relationship. Platonic like. I’mnot gonna lie and say I don’t find you attractive, certainly enough to get thejob done. I may be setting myself up for a Mike Tyson blow to the ego here butI think I know you well enough, Bets, to say that you feel the same about me.”

“Butit’s…” Eliza found some words, if fragmented and scattered, “I… I do and I…I know what you’re talking about but…I do love you, Alex…but it’sweird!”

Alexpursed his lips and raised his eyebrows, “As weird as asking your friend todonate sperm?”

Elizaflushed a little, “Okay, smarty pants. Now we’re even.”

Hechuckled, noting that she still hadn’t taken her hand back from his own, shehadn’t moved away from him, “It is weird. But it makes a lot of sense, doesn’tit? We’re both single and young and pretty damn good looking and, mostimportantly, we care a whole damn lot about each other. And you’d get a baby,free of charge with no hospital fuckery required.”

Elizapercolated the logic in her head for awhile, Alex did always have a gift forselling his utterly madcap, bonkers ideas in a way that made them seem like thebest option for everyone involved. And she’d never seen him be wrong yet…notcompletely anyway.

And,if she was being completely honest with herself? At the thought of a night withAlex, freshman Eliza had perked up considerably and was currently bouncing onthe balls of her feet. Her crush on him had been intense, with it being hervery first and all, but it had settled with age as they both grew and maturedand the whole thing that once very possible could have been just neverhappened. Alex was the best friend she’d ever known outside of her family,someone who understood her completely inside and out and somehow still wantedto know more.

She’dalways love him and she was dizzyingly excited at the possibility of being amother. Ever since Alex had said yes, she’d been daydreaming of a tiny littlething who curled into her chest looking for love and safety that she was sowilling to give in staggering amounts, something beautiful that she could lookat with pride and know they would always belong to her and her to them. Herlittle piece of the universe. And yes, with Alex’s wry smile and thirst tolearn and to persevere through anything. The slight weirdness of having sexwith her best friend would be well worth that price.

Andwith half the stuff she and Alex had been through together, what was seeingeach other naked? What was a little roll in the sheets between friends?

“Okay,”Eliza had to laugh a little as she said it, feeling like a character in asitcom about to cut to commercial, “Just to get me pregnant.”

Herlaugh was infectious, soon Alex was giggling helplessly too. It was hard notto.

“Hey,it’s not even that weird, right?” he snorted, muffling his laughter in hissleeve so they didn’t get any more suspicious glances from the nurses andpatients around them, “Just think of it as me loaning you ten dollars. Except,y’know, instead of money, picture my penis…”

Elizalaughed even harder then, so hard tears began building in her eyes, “I thinkI’d rather not.”

“Well,yes, it’s a terrible metaphor,” he chuckled, “But in my defense, this situationis pretty damn rare.”

Thatwas certainly true. Rare and wild and risky. But that was kind of how Alex andEliza had always operated.

Elizashifted a little closer, only looking cuter red in the face and glittery in theeye from laughter, her hands knotting together with Alex’s, “You really are thebest friend ever, Hamilton.”

“Hey,let’s reserve all accolades until you’ve seen my moves, okay?” Alex chuckled,grinning that way he did that made the corners of his eyes crinkle up. But hestill kissed her cheek as they got up to leave, “And you’re my best friend evertoo. Which is exactly why you get the privilege of seeing me naked.”

“Oh,shut up, Hamilton,” Eliza grinned, “I take it back. Now, come on and knock meup.”

Alexscrewed up his face, trying not to dissolve into hysterics again, “Your placeor mine?”

Theanswer to that question was obviously Eliza’s place. Alex had a little cornerof the heights where you could touch both walls at once by stretching out yourarms and the whole thing rattled whenever the elevated train rushed past, insuch a way that all the furniture was rearranged when it was gone. That and itwas inhabited by Alex himself, who’d turned it into a nightmarish hoarder’snest. Not exactly the most sexy of locations, there were no pornographic filmsset amongst stacks of books threatening to fall over and boxes full of halfeaten pizza and groaning folders of case files fit to burst.

So,Eliza’s it was.

Bothof them let out twin sighs of relief once Eliza had put a glass of wine in eachof their hands, it made things feel a little easier. There was a thick pull oftension in the air, one that threatened the whole madcap operation until theycaught each other’s eye in the middle of a slightly stilted conversation on howAlex’s last few job interviews had been going (Eliza had been coaching him forevery single one). Then they both just bust out laughing.

“Idon’t think the whole ignoring the elephant in the room thing is working?” Alexgrinned, rubbing the back of his neck, “Want to just call it what it is and dothe damn thing?”

Elizasnorted, nearly getting rose right up her nose, “And would ‘the damn thing’ inthis case be me?”

Thatmade Alex laugh out loud, the tension in the pit of his stomach uncoiling andslithering away to hide, the way it always seemed to when Eliza was around,“Good thing this isn’t a date or I’d be out on my ass, huh?”

“Coursenot, I’d give you at least two more strikes,” she chuckles, “Though, to befair, if this was a date I wouldn’t be inviting you to my bedroom this early.Which I am about to do, heads up.”

“Thanks,”he smirked, clambering to his feet. He didn’t need Eliza to show him where herbedroom was, he’d slept over a good handful of times, after parties where Elizadeemed him too tipsy to get himself home.

Ithad to be said, the room was quintessentially Eliza. She couldn’t do much aboutthe faded carpet in the living room or the squat, leather sofas or the kitchencupboards that were the colour of phlegm, in Alex’s own words. But the bedroom,tucked away in the corner of the apartment with a window that looked out onto afire escape where she could perch on an evening and watch the sun sink belowthe New York skyline, leaving the stars free to come out, like a million eyesopening cautiously, only gleaming as bright as they could through the thick pollutionas soon as they saw the coast was clear. The room itself was a dusty blue, asoothing colour that seemed to wrap itself around you and keep you safe, thepalate broken only by the many, many photos of her loved ones on the wall (manyof them included Alex) and the rainbow of books and the bursts of green asflowering plants and succulents gathered like old friends embracing on everyspare surface. The quilt on her bed was the same one Alex remembered from herdorm room and every other place she’d lived since, the one she, of course, hadmade herself.

Thewhole scene was just so familiar to him as he stepped inside, trotting atEliza’s heels, so warm and safe and forgiving that he relaxed in spite of thefact that this was a step closer to go time. It was just that this room, maybein different locations but the same room in essence, had seen the absoluteworst of him- crying, having a panic attack, blind drunk, angry- and yet stillwelcomed him back.

Alot like Eliza herself.

“Okay,”Eliza spoke decisively, as if the awkwardness could be wrestled intononexistence by a firm word and a pair of crossed arms, “Kiss me. That’ll letme know if I actually want to do this or not.”

Alextilted his head a little, rolling the sleeves of his sweater up his arms, “ButI kiss you all the time?”

Andhe did, it was true, pecks on the cheek and forehead to make her smile when shewas feeling blue or in joyous awe after she yet again saved his ass with aperfectly timed up of coffee or one of her wonderfully simple solutions thatsomehow utterly fixed problems that he’d been chewing over for days.

“No,I mean…” Eliza searched for words, looking a little exasperated, “Kiss me likeyou’d kiss someone you really wanted to have sex with. Kiss me like…likesomeone you were dying to see naked, like you’re going to explode if you don’tget with them right this minute.”

Alexgave a little snort of disbelief but he stepped forward all the same andwithout another thought in his head, he brought his best friend close to him byway of firm hands on her shoulders and a swift, sure movement, pressing herlips to his, thinking of passion and love and want. He let his lips part alittle after a few moments, after she relaxed in his hold, tilting his head toclose just that little bit of unnecessary distance and was gratified to findher mirroring him. How long the kiss lasted, neither of them were really surebut it ended with both of them a little reluctant to let it go, leaving theundeniable answer as ‘not long enough’.

“So…”Alex murmured, a rasp in his voice.

“Yeah,”Eliza’s eyes were wide and her pupils seemed so big that Alex could fall intothem, “Yeah, I want to do this.”

Hesmiled that crooked smile of his though, underneath it, he was thinking thatthe kiss didn’t really feel all that different from any other time he’d kissedher, which was…disconcerting.

Theydecided to shed their clothes at the same time, in the interests of fairness.

Elizadiscovered that Alex had a lot more tattoos than she’d ever imagined, one’s hehad mentioned to her but she’d never seen with her own eyes, diminishing their expansiveness.Constellations scattered across his lower stomach, she’d seen them poking upabove the line of his pants when he stretched but she’d never realised how farthey reached, how detailed and beautiful in their simplicity they were. A papersailboat trekked bravely across his upper thigh, waves crashing around it, afeathered quill penned a long, looping line of ink up the length of one leg,smatterings of English, French and Spanish were carefully etched onto variousparts of him, curling around clocks and birds and flowers and a Puerto Ricanflag. He was a work of art.

Alexdiscovered a kind of roundness, a fullness, to Eliza around her hips, thighsand stomach. There were curves and slopes and valleys usually hidden underneathher clothes, a smattering of stretch marks he hadn’t known existed, a fewfreckles that moved up the inside of a thigh to places he couldn’t see fromhere but found himself desperately wanting to follow them. His fingers itchedto touch that softness, follow the curves and squeeze and stroke and kiss.

Itwas amazing what new things you could learn from someone with one glance andthe absence of clothes.

Elizahad read up on good positions for conceiving, where gravity could hopefullyplay its part, bringing all the right elements close enough together for thespark to catch and a baby to start forming, like the way dust and gas collectedinto stars under the same force. A pillow under her hips and sprawled backagainst the cushions, she felt a little silly but all Alex could think of wasthe intoxicating darkness of her hair against the sheer white pillows, the wayshe could look up at him as he moved to take his place between her knees, thesoftness now right there under him and nothing to stop him reaching out andcaressing it.

Noone needed to make any kind of verbal request now, their lips met entirely oftheir own accord, though it was Alex who started the gentle nipping at Eliza’slower lip, already a little drunk on kissing her full, slightly swollen,beautifully dusky pink lips, the spine tingling but not unwelcome sensation ofhis tongue sliding over her’s. Though it only took a few seconds before Elizawas responding in kind, her hands coming up to tangle in his thick, dark massof hair and keep him good and close.

Alexalmost made a total idiot out of himself and stopped to request a condom beforehe remembered the whole goddamn point of this and just went for it, needing toshuffle her over a little, raise his own hips, fumble just a tiny amount andthen he was there, with a low sighfrom himself and a short gasp of surprise from Eliza. He almost stopped, terrifiedhe’d caused some hurt, moved to fast, moved without permission, taken too muchtoo soon. But then Eliza’s legs were thrown around his hips, her feet pressinginto his lower back and pushing him, if anything, deeper.

Herteeth grazed his earlobe and she murmured in a tone that was nothing short ofbegging, “Please.”

Alexwasn’t about to make her ask twice. He didn’t think, he didn’t ask for anylogic or reason, he just chased this wild desire in his chest and the plea inhis friend’s voice. He rocked her, heavy and rhythmic, into the softness of themattress, never taking his eyes off her, not wanting to miss a second of theway she bit her lip and her eyes rolled back when he hit home and her pupils swelledand her face took on the achingly beautiful blush of fresh rose petals. It goteven better when his thumb, apparently of its own volition, slipped down andpressed none too lightly against her clit; that made her cry out loud, herexpression rapturous, panting as she climbed higher and higher under hm.

Assoon as he saw her getting there, the only thing he wanted to do in the wholedamn world was get her there faster, harder, better, the pace of his lithe hipsincreasing until the bed springs began to make themselves heard and Eliza’ssweet little gasps became louder and higher, melding into one wordless cry.Alex wasn’t even really aware that the low, wanton growl was his own, the onethat pitched so perfectly with the noises she was making. He just lost sight ofhimself in the pull of her muscles, the feeling of her fingers tugging at hishair, the beautiful heat where their bodies joined and his thumb rubbed.

Asdistracted as he was by what he was doing to her, what she was giving him inreturn, his own climax caught him by such surprise that Alex felt the wholeroom, the whole damn world, tip dizzily around him as his hips jerkederratically and he spent himself inside her. Though he didn’t miss Eliza cominga second or two behind him, writhing so uncontrollably that he was a littleworried for a moment, until the tension let them both go and they were leftexhausted and a little bit shaken.

Alexand Eliza both held their breath, waiting for the awkwardness to comebarrelling back with a vengeance, braced for it, Alex actually mapping outwhere he’d left his clothes so he could scramble back into them as swiftly aspossible and bolt for the door. But it never seemed to find them, like they’dsuccessfully held their breaths and stilled their bodies and it had just passedthem by.

Theyuntangled themselves as painlessly as they could, leaving Alex to roll onto hisback by Eliza’s side, both just catching their breath. At some point theirhands found each other and joined, subtly and gently, without either of themreally being aware of it. It was a long time before either of them saidanything.

“I…well,hopefully that worked,” Eliza found her voice first, eyes fixed on the ceiling.

“Yeah…”Alex began, short of breath, gazing straight ahead just like she was, like theyboth recognized that that was a safe place for their eyes to rest. Who knewwhat might happen if they went wandering? “Though…what are the chances that yougot pregnant back there?”

Elizablinked, her free hand fluttering unconsciously to her stomach, resting therelightly, “I’m not sure. Low, I guess, relatively speaking.”

Alexspoke as casually as he could, “Well then, it would make sense, wouldn’t it,if, y’know, as long as you were still ovulating, we…we kept doing that?”

Therewas a slight mutual wince as they both froze, waiting to see of what he’d justsaid had crossed the line, upset the painfully delicate balance they stood onhere. But there was no thunder, no sudden swarm of locusts, the earth didn’topen up underneath the bed. Nothing happened.

“Imean, it’s only logical,” Eliza murmured, “Yeah, why not?”

Evenas they (eventually) dressed and gathered themselves back together, it stillfelt like something important hadn’t been said, there was the feeling of a gapgoing unfilled, a missing step. It was still there as Alex stood on Eliza’sstoop, lingering as they said goodbye, both of them feeling this glaringabsence.

“Hey…”Eliza called out as Alex’s sneakers touched down on the sidewalk, reaching in asudden, frantic rush to fix the problem. But as Alex turned back, looking ather quizzically with his wide, brown eyes, she didn’t know what to say.

So,what she said was, “You know you’re my favourite person ever, right?”

Alexcracked a smile, chuckling gently, “Yeah. You’re my favourite too.”

Itwasn’t quite right. But it would do for now.

[daddyconfessions]

daddy’s journal 3/16/16

daddy’s journal 3/8

Thursday Mar 2nd Bubbles hit me up today around 9am and told me she couldn’t make it. She’d gone out with Piper and had stayed out too late. Her and Piper had been hanging out a lot. I guess that explained all the drunk texts she’d sent the other night. I couldn’t be bothered though. I was busy looking at job ads.

I had a lot on my mind. The more I looked at jobs the more I realized I desperately needed to get in with some recruiters if I wanted to improve my chances. I hit up Firecracker to let her know I was free. She told me she couldn’t make it and had plans to volunteer somewhere. About an hour later she asked if she could have extra money. Something about needing to buy a ticket for a trip with her friends. I told her it was cool. Then a couple of hours after that, she texted me again to tell me she was having a weird discharge and needed to go to the doc and get it checked out.

I asked if she had a STD.  That didn’t go over well. We got into an argument, mostly her calling me out for thinking of her that way as well as her making it very clear no one was hitting the kitty uncovered.  She stopped texting me suddenly. I figured she was mad so I left it alone.  I had always used a condom so I wasn’t really too worried. Still she was acting weird af.

Napoleon came into my office not too long after that. We had a brief discussion about the next meeting with the Russian’s as well as the Board of Directors meeting next week. He seemed jovial with me, not at all like a guy who wanted me gone. Maybe I was just being paranoid about my job. Still when he left, I got up and cleaned my office some more. Tomorrow could be the big day.

Later that evening, I went home and spent about an hour with the family before I poured myself some Crown Royal and coke, grabbed a Cohiba and went out on the front porch. Nothing clears the mind like a little crown and coke and some of Cuba’s finest.  I was feeling sporty after that. My mind was clear. FC was tripping. Bubbles cancelling left and right.  What’s a SD to do? Time to get online.

I played around on CL for kicks. I didn’t expect much. Usually sugardaddy posts get deleted within the first hour of being posted. But I came up with a snazzy title that would pass cursory inspection and posted it. Then I got back on SA, paid for my membership. Then I logged into SD.com and looked around. I toyed with the idea of going to this bar known for being a sugarbabe hook up spot. But I needed to get a bit prepared for that so I passed. Truthfully, I can’t handle another SB but the way FC and Bubbles are going, it’ll be over soon.

While I was playing around, FC got back to me telling me she didn’t have any STDs and then launched into some long tirade about the doc saying her body was going through changes, hormonal and what not, and reacting to the weight gain she’d had as well as her period being out of sync. I apologized for insinuating she might’ve had something. She told me she needed a break to let things clear up. It all sounded suspicious to me. But in the absence of more info, I had to go along with it.

Friday Mar 4th The big day. My office is clean af. If I get sliced all I needed to do is grab some pics and a bag and I’m out.

10am. 11am. Noon. Nothing. 1pm. Still nothing.

I get  text from FC saying her period finally started. I didn’t even respond. I’m starting feel like I’m in a chess game.

2pm. I realized my boss had gone home for the day. Guess I wasn’t getting fired after all. I get a text from Bubbles. Hadn’t thought much about our date that day. I took a Lamar Odom and an hour later I was heading out the door to meet her. Can’t believe I overreacted like that about my job. Guess my paranoia got the better of me. But Bubbles hadn’t cancelled again so not a bad end to the week. It dawned on me that I hadn’t had any kitty all week.

When I got to the restaurant Bubbles had already gotten the table/booth. I like that shit. Most SBs will be late. Or if they get there first they’ll stay in the car until you arrive or wait in the sitting area. No way their getting a table and you ain’t there. Not Bubbles. I liked her style.  The way the booth was made it sat sideways so you could see the whole restaurant. We sat back and people watched while we sipped our drinks, ate and kissed. Bubbles doesn’t have any problem with PDA. We must have tongued each other down several times throughout the early dinner. Sharing the sweet taste of our drinks on each others lips and tongue. Several other tables kept looking over at us. It was kind of fun. Wild. Definitely a thrill. An elderly couple kept looking over too. Not in disgust more out of curiosity. Bubbles is a pretty girl. She’s skinny as a toothpick but she’s pretty af. The old heads were probably wondering why an old scrub like me was getting that young kitty….$$$$

Bubbles kept checking her phone. She apologized. Told me her son had a fever from some shots he’d just gotten and she was constantly checking on him. I honestly keep forgetting she has a 6 month old. You’d never know she had a newborn the way she looked. She doesn’t have a stretch mark on her body. Her stomach was flat as a board. I asked Bubbles about the other night with her girlfriend. She and Piper had gone out with some rich record exec. You’d probably know him or one of his artists if I mentioned them. Pipers the type that can’t handle her alcohol though so when she got drunk she started fighting with everyone including Bubbles. Bubbles was trying to calm her down and talk sense into her. Piper hadn’t backed down, got mad at Bubbles and took her phone and threw it across the room, shattering the screen. Some other stuff happened including Piper cursing out some of the security guards and other guys at the table. The big Exec told security to throw her out but they didn’t want Bubbles to go. They wanted her pretty little ass to stay. Bubbles couldn’t let her friend be outside, drunk, by  herself so she went with her even though the entourage wanted her to say. They took uber to get there and hate to wait until another Uber to come which was almost an hour later.

I took the opportunity to bring up some serious concerns. “I’m don’t know if I can compete with your circle of friends,” I told her. “You’re hanging out with rich dudes. Famous and shit. Not to mention they know other famous people. Money aside, I couldn’t come close to that kind of lifestyle.” She touched my hand and pursed her lips. “Oh babe its not like that. Those guys aren’t my type. I’m not into the thugged out, gold chain wearing, baggy pants type of guys. These guys got tats everywhere and they treat girls like shit. Besides, just because they have money doesn’t mean they’re going to be doing anything for you. I keep telling Piper that. They just want some pussy and when their done with you you’re gone.”

“Well I was just wanting to bring it up,” I said. Truth is I’m tired. In the old days a bloke could shell out some cash and have a good time with a girl. Spoil her to death and not worry about all the drama the sugarbowl has now. But now its mad drama and all this unnecessary competition. Not to mention all the games both SBs and SDs try to do to each other. Its enough to drive a man crazy. I told her what I was thinking and added, “I know hanging with Piper gets you into the inner circle and all that. But from my past experiences, its tiring competing with celebrities. Not to mention the lifestyle they have to offer. It gives me a headache just thinking about it.”

She shook her head. “No. Piper’s just a groupie. She’s my girl but I gotta be honest. Besides, since I’m not doing anything when we go out its getting harder and harder to hang with her. I’m like the 3rd wheel. And all of these guys don’t give a shit about her. They even hit on me in front of her and she just laughs it off. Honestly, I’m sort of getting tired of it but Piper’s my girl. And she knows people that knows people. If we ever needed to get into a club, backstage at a concert, all we have to do is ask her.”

“The benefits of being a groupie,” I said. We both laughed. She put her hand on my thigh and rubbed it. “But really babe, you don’t have anything to worry about. I already have my lover.” She lifted her glass and said, “To us.” I lifted mine and we clicked glasses. Then we kissed again, the sweet taste of the drinks on our lips made the kisses that much sweeter.

We talked a bit more about Piper, celebs and our situation. Suddenly, Bart was hard as a rock. The Lamar Odom’s had kicked in. I was ready to fuck.  

From there we headed to the hotel. Lots of kissing and tonging before we moved to the bed. I couldn’t wait to lick the kitty. But she stopped me. Told me she was still spotting. Damn. Can a Daddy get a break this week? WTF?  I couldn’t even hit it. She decided to just give me fellatio. I’d love to blog about how I licked the kitty. Sucked the clit. But no. No fun filled evening of me trying to get inside that tight kitty. She gave me brains, but I wasn’t that into it tbh. I wanted some kitty.  “I’m sorry baby,” she said, stopping, my tip less than an inch from those pretty lips. “I’m not usually this bad of a fuck. Its just that I haven’t been that active…” Poor girl had to work hard to get ol Bart to cum. And when I came it was nothing spectacular. I can’t say she did  a bad job…more like I was just wanting more that evening.

“I’m sorry. I promise I’m not this bad…” she kept saying. She said two more times and then, “I promise I’m not usually this lousy. I switched BC and its got my body all weird. That’s why I’m spotting.” For a minute I was thinking her and Firecracker were collaborating. “I’m sorry if I keep cancelling. It’s just hard with my work, my son and my friends.” The look on Bubbles face was of pure worry. I could tell she really felt like she was disappointing me. I told her to relax. I was patient. Low key I suspected a threesome was in my future. The thought alone of a 3 way was enough to make even the most impatient man wait. Then she promised things would be better tomorrow. But that would never happen….

Saturday Mar 5th By noon Bubbles cancelled again. Her son was still running a fever and she didn’t feel right leaving him again. It was cool. She was probably still spotting. I also had several messages from my CL ad and some hits of SA. I’d forgotten I had even been playing around on the sites.

No point in wasting a perfectly good Saturday afternoon : ) I poured myself some more Crown & Coke, sat down in my office and I spent the afternoon talking to some POTs. The stuff from CL was admittedly just garbage. Mostly girls looking to catch a date. The only hopeful one was this mid 40’s chick. She was kind of liking the fact that I was so young. Her last SD was in his mid 50s so she was interested in seeing how this would turn out. She was ready to meet to. Said she was going out with the girls and wondered if I could meet her at the bar. Old cougar. I call her Tigress. I declined to meet though. I wasn’t really sure if I wanted to go that route. Old chicks be on something else. And, its been awhile since I was involved with someone over 30.

Sunday Mar 6th FC texted me and she felt like things were over. I took that as an indication she wanted to end things. She told me she felt guilty the last few weeks. That was right around the time I’d bought her a new Louis bag. I recalled she had been shocked I had bought it. She was happy too but I could see something in her eyes that something was wrong. Now it all made sense. She felt like she hadn’t deserved it. “I just don’t feel like I can give you everything you want,” she said.

The funny thing this all I ever really wanted was her. It was never something complicated.

But I was tired. Whatever was going on with her had taken its toll on me. I figured she had a new SD or a new fuckboy. Either way it was probably best to end things. I cared for Firecracker but I wouldn’t be a fool for her. Not with so much other kitty around me. She told me she wanted to remain friends and that if I wanted to have lunch or sex one day then to hit her up. We sort of ended it right there.

I was sad. I even posted this journal entry just to vent. She was my princess and now she was gone….

The week was off to a fucked up start.

[handern]

So here’s what I found online it’s such a shame the arthurian center where I worked doesn’t have an online library references

in french :

- L’ours et le roi - Focused on Arthur himself, it’s a preview but the preview itself is pretty good for a starter (they date it from the 6th century AC if I remember correctly)

in english :

- The Return of King Arthur - they’re giving a literary blowjob to some authors but eh, it’s a pretty good analysis of modern retellings, though kind of old

- From Scythia to Camelot - I didn’t know about this one (again a preview) but it looks very promissing and does approach the celtic aspect of the legend but MIGHT be going a bit too far, up to the reader to decide

oh and a modern retelling I forgot to talk about :

- The Once and Future King by T.H.White : excellent for kids, it’s the version that Disney based their Sword in the Stone movie on, w the talking owl and all, 20th century

One word on the Zimmer-Bradley series too bc they’re so popular. Don’t ask me how you should read them apparently she published them in a forward order then went backward in time apparently. I heard both excellent things and horrible things from it? it’s def modern times vision of the celtic times tho but it focuses on the ladies from the tales so that’s pretty cool and guenivere/lancelot/arthur have threesome that’s all I know about it. She bases her writing on some very very old tales for instance Merlin is the legendary Merlin from before he was linked to Arthur, so a king who went mad after a battle and ran to the woods

The one modern retelling I got my eyes onto atm is “The Idyles of the Queen” which is apparently a crime/mystery book where Kay the Senechal is the main character

TO CONCLUDE

the arthurian legends is a veeery dense and super interesting topic to study, the tip I’d give is to always research the author, when did they live, what was the political climate back when they wrote, why did they write and who did they write for

most authors Back In The Days wrote purely for propaganda reasons : they were paid by rich people, to make rich people look good, very rarely were they isolated highly educated people, that’s a myth, even monks were veeeery deeply into politics and stuff contrary to what they’d like to make people think

Chrétien de Troyes for instance? his work was partially requested by Eleanor of Aquitaine’s daughter. Why? Bc it was part of propaganda. Eleanor and her descendants (King Richard the Lionheart anyone?) were trying to make their line look like it was worthy of ruling both England and France, by giving the Plantagenets a mythical ancestor : king Arthur (guess what one of Eleanor’s grandkids was called)

Even if not for propaganda purposes, every author tried to give a feeling of familiarity to the readers by setting the stories in places they at least heard of, so that’s why so many places in the legends actually exist, and it helps date which version which author based their work on

there are two big versions of the tales, two ways of telling them and two ways of studying them : the british ones and the french ones.The germans/italians/spanish do have some claims on these legends too, but there aren’t many authors and

I REALLY WENT OVERBOARD AND COMPLETELY DROPPED THE ASPECT OF THE CELTS I’M SO SORRY HERE’S A LIST FROM MEMORY OF THE FIRST AND MOST CELTIC CHARACTERS :

- Bedivere, Kay, Gawain : oldest knights to be found with Arthur, all of them have mystical powers similar to celtic heroes, which are not powers found in the middle ages

- Guenivere, her name is too celtic my man

- Chuluch and Olwen I’m pretty sure w names like these there’s no need to draw a picture

- Morgana : her name could be Mor-ganet, born from the sea but idk man idk

the best hint to know how old a character is, is how many names they’re given on their wikipédia page w different spellings

other things that are very celtic :

- the boars and the elks as symbols of royalty

- the sword (celtic royalty) AND the stone (the Lia Fáil, stone of Fal)

- the grail + spear remind ppl of Lugh’s spear and the Dagda’s cauldron, and it comes w a third item, so probably a third diety, and celtic dieties work by three more often than not

ok this time I really shut up this post is way too long already, but I’ll make a tag for all my babblings about the arthurian legends

Hello! Say I messaged friend for advice. And say she was conveniently in a trance channeling the spirit of a pre-christian King Arthur who had pretty decent, if medieval, advice. Then say I figure I should at least start reading some Arthurian writings properly, beyond just listening to podcasts. Where would I, uh, start

That’s very excellent of you and your friend!!!

The issue with pre-medieval/pre-christian arthurian legends is that there’s nothing written. Dissapointing, I know. I’m forever mad that the Celts never really wrote that much, there’s so much I want to know.

What you should read depends on what you’re seeking, if you want the raw stories, there are three big names : Chrétien de Troyes, Geoffrey of Monmouth and Thomas Malory, I’ll detail their work.

On the other hand, if you want to find out why scholars think that these stories are older than the 9th century, you will have to turn to academical works. The ones I read are all in french, but I’ll try to find some translations or the equivalent in english tonight so stay tuned

here’s for the big three storytellers for now :

- Geoffrey de Monmouth (11th/12th century) I think he’s the one who linked Merlin and Arthur first? Merlin was a legend, probably older or just as old as King Arthur, but they weren’t related at all, different legends completely, both well known though. His work was taken as history book for a long while, which is why some scholars think that there IS a historical value in some tales, just not the parts that seem obvious. And there’s probably a shitton of propaganda that flies over our heads if we just read the story for itself. I didn’t read that one yet so I can’t tell more, though.

- Chrétien de Troyes (12th century) Despite his name, despite the time at which he wrote, there’s a lot of celtic themes and christianity back then isn’t what we make of it, it’s still very different from modern days or even from the Renaissance type of religion it would become. He’s the first to introduce the grail but back then it’s just a grail, it’s not yet The Holy GrailTm and has no real link to christianity + it’s just one of three items that Percival sees, it’s not more important than the spear or the knife. It was my first read and it’s kind of a headache to follow the flow of the story bc well, storytelling books were very different from the ones we have now. Still very interesting to read and later to dissect

- Thomas Malory (15th century) Easiest to read, the first one to link all the knights of the table round to king Arthur as in, making it obvious there’s actually a king Arthur as a character. Arthur has very little screen time in previous work, if any at all, because he and Camelot weren’t the focus of the story, they were just context. It’s like saying hhhh captain Kirk works for Starfleet but you never actually SEE what the Starfleet HQ look like and it doesn’t matter, Starfleet is just there for context, and it links Kirk, Picard and the others together, but we don’t get to see the HQ’s adventures. I hope that makes sense. Anyway, he brought together a lot of stories, linked them together and put them in chronological order so there’s actually a story going on, close to the way you’d expect it from a book written nowadays

Also, finally, beware of late 19th, 20th and 21st centuries retellings of king Arthur’s legends if you’re trying to find “celtic themes” (side-eyes Zimmer Bradley) bc while authors do try to pepper these “celtic themes” in their stories, they have a distorted, deeply romantized vision of the Celts (it’s still nice to read and I’m 100% into modern retellings)

I get stupidly excited about all that stuff so I hope I managed to not be too confusing in my explanations, but it’s such a rich story and so fascinating to study I can’t help myself

I’ll do my researches for the academic works tonight

[viralvernon]

Mama Mia (M) | Pt. 1

cr.

a/n: short little drabble thingy-majigy written for the amazing and awesome (dt; @kawaii-hedgehog I LOVE YOU WIFEY!!) and there will be a part two to this somewhere in the near future. 

genre: set in italy bc it’s bootiful, angst, fluff, smut, should basically question your bias and where your loyalties lie

word count: 1,911

summary: At first, you thought of it as weird behavior. But began to realize that it’s just how he is—he’s naturally caring towards anyone, almost childish.

He came over the edge, glancing down at the streets before looking to the right, right where your balcony was. You had been standing near your window sill, just enjoying the chilly breeze as the sun was rising. Your dark skin glistened in the light, the orange reflecting off your eyes and going back to him.

When you saw him just looking at you like you were a piece of art, you took a deep breath and sighed. You headed back inside your room, leaving Taehyung to just sit on the edge, staring at the sun as it rose in the horizon.

When he realized that you needed to get ready for work, he sighed and finally got down from the ledge. You’d moved in next door next to him over two months ago and had been the best neighbor Taehyung could’ve asked for. His previous neighbor moved out to head to Greece to live with his family.

He remembered when he first saw you as his new neighbor. He’d be on the ledge, sitting down and eating his breakfast, and you walked out onto your porch to air dry some clothes. Introduction was difficult, but he managed to say hello and introduce himself.

And every morning, he’d go out on his porch ledge just to see you and have the chance to say good morning. Whenever you didn’t show up on your porch, it unusually meant that you overslept. Chuckling to himself, he’d climb over on your porch (the distance between the two were very limited, almost in arm’s reach) and knock on your door.

“Y/N, wake up! You’ll be late.” He often called you in order to get your attention, otherwise you wouldn’t listen. And you’d be late, so cursing at you was the only way to wake you up.

To which you’d thank him profusely after letting him in and have him wander around the apartment. At first, you thought of it as weird behavior. But began to realize that it’s just how he is—he’s naturally caring towards anyone, almost childish.

“Buongiorno, Y/N,” he greeted you the next morning. “How was your night? Did you sleep well?”

Gripping the handle of your tea cup handle, you exhaled and shrugged. “I’m not really sure.”

This caught his attention. He quickly climbed over to your porch and sat on the ledge. “What’s the matter?”

You sat on a chair you often left here—mostly to keep your clothes organized and ready, but today it didn’t have anything on it. Which Taehyung found odd and out of place. Something was definitely up.

“It’s just...” You glanced down at your cup. Then scoffed and shook your head, like you were denying something personal. “It’s real stupid. You’d laugh at me.”

He crossed his legs and stared straight at you. “Try me.”

You gave up and lowered your tea. You took a deep breath before saying, “You know how I go to the auction for art near the museum?”

Taehyung nodded. You went to the museum auction at least once a week. And every time, you’d come back with different pieces of art. You were an art major and you loved studying unusual art works, and buying unusual ones made it even more fun.

“Well, there’s this art piece that no one has bought yet, and I really want to get it. But I just got fired from my job, and I don’t know how I’m gonna pay for it.”

Taehyung hated being the barer of bad news, but there was nothing he could do. The only thing he could right now was comfort you and try to stay optimistic. He got off the ledge and tucked his hands in his pajama pockets. “Maybe you could wait until next week. Maybe they’ll have cheaper ones!”

You giggled at his attempt to make you happier. “Maybe...” You cleared your throat and stood up suddenly, which made Taehyung jump back at the sudden movement. “You have work to get to and I have to get job interviews. Meet back here later?”

“Sounds like a plan.” Taehyung smiled bashfully, a flush pink brightening up on his cheeks.

And the rest of the day went on normally. You went to school and Taehyung went to work. After your last class ended, you headed to the museum, just to see if anything had changed or maybe something you could afford. Not really much since yesterday.

You wandered around the museum halls, just hoping to be able to afford something, anything. Though nothing had changed within the last hour. You almost gave up when you came across a painting on the auction stand, though the auction must have ended because no one was offering money anymore to any of the pieces.

There was a sculpture of a simple and small flower. It looked so fragile and realistic. You guessed that took at least a month or two. Possibly even more. You made your way through the not-so-mushed crowd and place yourself in from of the little sculpture.

It was on the auction table, so it must have been going out for sale. But it looked original, not even the slightest tint of antique-ness to it.

Why would someone put a complete original out for people to buy?

“Like what you see?”

The sudden voice startled you and you yelped in the slightest way, backing away from the sculpture. The voice chuckled, “I’m sorry. Did I scare you?”

You turned to your left to see a man around your age, his smile small and calm. You sighed, relieved it wasn’t some security guard ready to layeth the smacketh down on you for being too close to the art. “Yea, a little.”

He smiled, his lips wide now, revealing his sparkling white teeth that made his coal-like hair stand out. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to.” His eyes sparkled as he talked. “Yoongi.”

You shook his hand, replying with your name.

“So... um, you like anything you see?”

You figured that he was an owner of one the pieces, so you tried to stay kind. “Yeah. All of these are so different and diverse.” You pointed at the sculpture of the rose. “That one is my favorite.”

He nodded, his voice low and steady. “I like it too. Though I think I could’ve done the stem differently. But there’s always next time.”

You raised your eyebrow. “You made this?”

“Yes, I did. All from scratch.” He took a deep breath and bit on his lip playfully. “It took forever.”

“It’s absolutely beautiful. The color used it totally unusual and it looks like a rain forest threw it up―which is the best part!”

He glanced behind him, where everyone was on the other side of the room, staring at some painting of a meadow and a girl on a swing. “They don’t think it’s quite ‘beautiful.’” He shrugged. “Guess that’s just what business is.”

“How much is it?”

Yoongi looked back at you like he hadn’t expected you to actually want to buy it. “Well... the price I have to make it for in order for it to be considered decent... well, it starts 1000€.”

You almost choked on air. “1000?”

“Yeah, I know it’s a lot but its only way that any of these rich people are going to notice. Marketing’s idea, not mine.”

Saying you were disappointed would be the understatement of the year. You had clutched your bag, your hand inside, ready to grab your wallet and pay right there. Then you heard the actual price. You’d never let go of something so fast in your entire life.

You sighed, dread falling over your emotions. It’s your fault for being optimistic and thinking you could actually buy something with your income you had.

“Oh, maybe I can come back later.” You tried hiding your upset mood, but even he could notice, especially by the way you were taking your hand out of your bag.

“How much did you bring with you?” It seemed like the question of a purse-snatcher, like someone who wanted to take your money and run away to the next country over. But there was something in his voice, almost reassuring.

You took out your wallet and filed through. “I only brought a couple hundred. Like I said, I’ll just come back later.”

You smiled and were about to head off, then he suggested, “It’s yours.”

Stopped dead in your tracks, you looked back at him suspiciously. “What? What do you mean it’s mine?”

“I mean, it’s yours now.” He held the sculpture and placed it right in your hands after you handed him your money. “Take good care of it.”

“I don’t know what to say. Thank you doesn’t even begin to cover it.” You were in awe that a total stranger would sell you something for a couple hundred € that was supposed to be sold at 1000.

“I was at your place one time. And I’d wished that someone had done the same thing.” He grinned warmly, his hands still on the sculpture in your hands. His skin was cold, or maybe it was because yours were burning like the sun.

“Thank you so much.” You held the flower softly. “Are you sure?”

“Please. Think of it as a gift you invested in.” The statement didn’t exactly make you feel better about the situation, but you liked the attempt. “I’ll be here if you ever find yourself in an artistic quarrel.” He tapped his forehead like he was tipping a hat and you backed away, exiting the building.

“Oooo, what’s that?” Jimin’s tiny, thief-like hands tried to snatch the tiny sculpture out of your hands.

You smacked his hand away, commenting, “Don’t touch it. It’s fragile. And if you break it, so help me—”

“Okay, I get it! Don’t get all mom on me.” He backed his hands away, raising them away. “If it’s so fragile, why’d you bring it to school?”

“A study reference for the exams.” You gestured toward the library. You and Jimin entered, thinking that a quiet area was better than being out where there were a bunch of people, who could potentially break your sculpture.

As you headed towards the far end of the library, Jimin whispered, “What about after the exams? What are you going to do with it?”

“Give it to someone very special.” You said it like it was obvious.

“And who’s this someone special?” He leaned over a bookshelf as you sat down on a chair next to the window.

“Nobody in particular. Mostly thinking Taehyung.” He really did like the little art pieces that you brought home to show him. You figured that he’d love it if he owned one.

“Your neighbor?”

“Yeah.” Obviously. Duh.

Jimin gasped, like he’d discovered the cure for cancer or found a way to end wars. “You so like him!”

The librarian said, “Ssshhhh!”

“Sorry.” Jimin’s voice lowered as he hovered next to you. “You so like him.”

“So what if I do?” You shrugged. “No big deal. It’s only a little crush.”

“Mmhh, I’ve heard that one before.” He crossed his arms over his chest and raised his eyebrow, practically challenging you to prove him wrong.

Though, you didn’t persist. You simply just rolled your eyes and went back to your work, gently placing the sculpture on the table. Had you known Jimin would be touchy with it, you would have studied somewhere else.