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lostloveletters · 6 months

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You Can’t Start a Fire Without a Spark (Ron Speirs x Reader)

Summary: Night falls in Bavaria to victorious revelry, and at the goading of your friends, the lust you've been kindling in secret suddenly burns hot and wild to the touch.

Note: Female reader, but no other descriptors are used besides the slightest bit of backstory. Inspired by several Bruce Springsteen songs. This is based on the fictional portrayals in the HBO miniseries and not the real individuals. (Also, hi I’m Battie! This is my first Band of Brothers fic despite being a fan of the miniseries since 2016. Let me know what you think🖤) Do not interact if you’re under 18, are a terf or radfem, or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings: Inherent power imbalance. Explicit content involving vaginal fingering and unprotected sex.

You weren’t sure how six of you managed to squeeze into a booth together in the Bavarian bar, elbow-to-elbow as you drank beer and shouted over each other. Sitting squished against Talbert, who was squished against Malarkey, one of your legs wasn’t even in the booth. On the other side of the table, Babe, Perconte, and Luz were in the same situation.

Victory in Europe had just been declared. The celebratory feeling filled your lungs with each breath despite the cloud of cigarette smoke that hung over the bar. With the war in Japan still raging on, the likelihood of those without enough points having to endure another drop remained up in the air. One night of fun wouldn’t hurt anybody. No one could say you hadn’t earned it.

Glancing around at your friends, the guys you lived and would’ve died for—even after the war ended, if you were being honest with yourself. You couldn’t imagine being closer with anyone else. Growing up without much of a family, passed around homes of distant relatives and near strangers until you had enough and ventured out on your own as a teen, you’d never had such strong connections before. The only reason you were even allowed to work so closely with Easy Company, was the absence of any next-of-kin, no one to cause a fuss if something went wrong while you were overseas. You were non-combat detail, of course, typing and running errands as needed, but more often than was likely ideal, you found yourself somewhere on the line with the medic training you’d gotten.

You hadn’t been at Toccoa with them, only meeting most of the guys just before D-Day. After Operation Market Garden’s failure in Holland, they came around to you upon the return to Aldbourne, least surprising of whom was Talbert, ever so kindly taking you under his wing when he was recovering from being accidentally stabbed by Smith. The two of you became close friends, and though you heard of his exploits with women in just about every city the company passed through, he seemed hellbent on being your wingman, trying to set you up with at least half a dozen members of Easy to little success.

With the taste of sweet victory and bold German beer on everyone’s lips, declarations of what and who everyone would ideally do to celebrate poured from your friends with little prompting. Knowing you well enough at that point, Tab took the opportunity to get you in on the conversation, the light mood and buzz in your system leaving you more loose-lipped than usual.

“Alright, our company’s eligible bachelorette,” Tab said, conspiratorial mirth in his voice. “Fraternization rules to the dust, which of Easy’s officers would you do your celebrating with?”

Your lips twitched, failing to suppress your smile as your drinking buddies awaited your answer. “Speirs.”

Finishing off the rest of your beer, you stifled your amusement at the clamor that ensued. Undoubtedly the least expected answer, part of Tab’s failure to secure a date for you among his comrades was your infatuation with the legendary captain—closely guarded, until you had a beer or two in you, apparently.

“Speirs?” Babe repeated incredulously.

“No way,” Malarkey said, shaking his head. “No fucking way.”

“They need to get you to one of those headshrinkers,” Perconte said.

“Hold on a minute,” Tab said with an amused smile, trying to reign in the chaos. “Let’s hear her out.”

“You wanna know why?” you asked.

Ever since Speirs stuck with Easy Company after Bastogne, you worked closely with him as you did the other officers, taking notes and keeping memos for them. Speirs often requisitioned you to type up reports for him, finding it easier to dictate what he wanted written to you than typing them himself. Sometimes you found his attention drifting off when it was a more mundane report, his words trailing away while he looked at you, typically slouched on a chair or couch at the end of a long day. You would let yourself take him in, hoping the perceptive man wouldn’t notice the way your eyes trailed up his long, outstretched legs to his disheveled hair.

He provided the most attention to battlefield exploits, and at times you couldn’t keep up with how fast he was speaking or would find yourself a bit startled by some of the gruesome details he relayed. You’d heard the rumors about him. Everyone had. But a disgustingly repressed part of you that’d emerged at some point during the war was secretly thrilled by them, almost hoping they were true.

“Well, you owe us that much,” Luz said.

“I owe you all jack and shit.”

“What if I buy you another drink?”

“I think I’m gonna need another one after hearing this,” Babe muttered.

“Let’s see, why would I sleep with Captain Speirs,” you said, playfully tapping your chin in faux thought. “For starters, he’s fine as hell, which should be reason enough. I like that he’s a no-nonsense kinda guy. He has this intensity that I think is really sexy.”

The cacophony of bewilderment and objection that filled the booth met its slow death when the occupant of the booth behind yours got up. You weren’t sure whether to laugh or cry when you saw it was Speirs.

He made his way out of the pub, your light mood with him.

“Oh my god,” you groaned. “Do you think he heard?”

“No way he didn’t,” Malarkey said.

“Fuck, I need to do something before I get demoted or transferred or something.”

Tab grinned. “Well, if you’re not walking straight tomorrow, we’ll know you did something.”

“Shut up, jerk!” you hissed. “I’m in this mess because of you.”

He gave you a mocking salute.

You flipped him off as you got up from the table, running after your CO who more than likely overheard you expressing to your buddies that you’d enthusiastically have sex with him. Of course it happened the one time you actually joined in on their vulgarity.

Unlike his silent stride, your boots pounded against the pavement, announcing your approach to him.

He turned around abruptly, and you nearly fell over your own feet as you stopped in your tracks.

His intense gaze on you felt like being at the end of his rifle’s sight. “Are you drunk, Y/L/N?”

“No—no, sir.”

“Good. I could use your help with a report.”

You stared at him blankly. A report. At ten o’clock at night. “Of course, sir. Anything you need.”

The corners of his lips upturned for a split second. “I’m sure.” Fuck. He’d definitely heard you.

The two of you started off down the street, toward a more residential area wherein officers had requisitioned houses for the US Army’s use for the foreseeable future. Almost dreamily picturesque, tree branches waved at you in the cool night breeze, the surrounding mountains illuminated by the bright fullness of the moon. From the soft glow of street lamps lighting your way, something you’d previously taken for granted, you tried not to stare at him. In the warm glow of that balmy summer evening, however, he looked almost too good to be true. Hair slightly unkempt, the whisper of stubble along his jaw and cheeks, surely his face would feel like heaven between your thighs.

Soldiers in all states of drunkenness ambled up and down either side of the street, hollering and singing in carefree celebration. Speirs placed a hand on the small of your back, guiding you past a group of men who could hardly walk straight. One of them walked right into you, his head nearly colliding with yours.

“Fuck,” the young soldier grumbled under his breath, shooting you a dirty look for being in his way.

Speirs wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you aside to stand in front of you. “Private,” he snapped, staring down the young man who looked like he was about to shit himself. “I advise you get yourself together and watch where you’re going.”

“Yes, sir—Captain Speirs, sir,” he said, turning his attention to you. “Sorry, ma’am.”

You nodded silently, and the private ran off after his buddies.

Speirs turned to you, his hands on your shoulders as his intense gaze searched your face for any sign of injury.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

“I’m fine.”

In Hagenau, one of the replacements had been pestering you the moment he laid eyes on you. At first, you humored him, supposing he needed a friend, as the men who’d been through Normandy and Bastogne were understandably closed-off and tight knit. Thought the new guys were too green, too eager to do something stupid and get someone killed in pursuit of battlefield glory that was too haunting to exist.

Then he started getting handsy, not enough to be outright inappropriate, but enough to make you uncomfortable. You weren’t sure what possessed you to mention it to Speirs when he’d asked you how you were doing one afternoon. His brow furrowed, he gave you a silent nod in response. The replacement had been transferred elsewhere the following day.

Though Speirs stared right at you, there was something far away in his eyes as he squeezed your shoulders.

“I’m fine, sir,” you repeated. “I promise.”

“Hmm? Oh, right,” he said softly.

He pulled a cigarette from his pocket, not bothering to offer you one. You were in the minority of people who didn’t smoke, allowing you to leverage the packs in your rations to trade amongst the men. As time went on, you’d leave them on top of your finished reports for Speirs, especially if they were Luckys. You watched silently as he lit the cigarette in his mouth, a shining silver lighter in his hand. His eyes drifted from the flame back to you, though you noticed the slightest spark behind them.

The rest of the walk was uneventful until you reached the house. A few stragglers hung around on the street outside, their voices becoming the slightest bit more hushed as they watched you follow Speirs inside. By the time the front door shut, they’d already begun speculating why the two of you were going to his place so late. With the way the men spread gossip, you could hazard a guess as to what the tale would morph into by the morning. You silently bemoaned the prospect of the night hardly being as interesting as whatever they conjured up.

Following him upstairs, the makeshift office seemed especially cramped with the boxes and papers that were haphazardly spread around the place. It’d probably take weeks to sift through it all, especially since a glance at one of the files appeared to be in German. Getting help wouldn’t be the issue, but rather the fact that none of the members of Easy who knew German were particularly inclined toward office work, becoming restless after an hour or so.

A problem for another time, however. Glancing at the clock, it was nearly half past ten, and you were almost inclined to ask Speirs about coffee, depending on how long he expected the report to take. You sat down at the desk, ready to begin typing the date when you noticed the ink was out.

“Is there any typewriter ribbon around, sir?” you asked.

He nodded. “Should be in one of the drawers.”

You opened the drawer immediately to your right, finding a mess of stationary that had clearly been shoved in carelessly. Or maybe someone had taken something out of it in a hurry. Digging through it, you came up empty, and moved onto the drawer below it. No dice. The one to your left didn’t have typewriter ribbon either, at least, you would have been surprised to find it tucked in with the loot that nearly filled the thing to the brim–shining silverware, glistening jewelry, and trinkets that someone with a keener eye than you had clearly decided were valuable enough to keep.

His extensive looting was an open secret, but a glimpse of this treasure trove was a shock to the system. So entranced by the contents of the drawer, you didn’t hear him walk up beside you until his shadow fell over the necklaces and rings you silently coveted.

He gave you a sly smile, wolfish in the dim lighting. “Haven’t had much of a chance to organize those.”

“They’re beautiful,” you whispered in awe, gingerly touching a pearl necklace.

“Try them on.”

“Are you sure?”

“Go ahead.”

You picked up the string of pearls, a nervousness washing over you at holding something so valuable, something of his. Walking over to the window, the nearest reflective surface you could find, you pulled the necklace on, garish against your uniform. You tried shaking off the odd feeling of playing dress-up in front of your commanding officer, a girlish whim he inexplicably allowed you to indulge in. His expression was unreadable when you turned around for him.

“They suit you,” he finally said, brushing his fingers against the pearls, slowly drifting lower to the exposed skin of your decollete. “Keep them.”

It wasn’t uncommon for him to bring you small gifts every now and then—typewriter ribbon, fountain pens, chocolate, trinkets. You knew better than to question where he got them, as he seemed to give them to you at the perfect moment. The stationary supplies when you were running low on them, chocolate and trinkets when you were feeling down. At times they’d be accompanied by notes from him. Usually short, but so sincere you treasured them more than the gifts. Whenever you’d try to thank him, he’d just shrug, almost dismissing the gesture.

This time, feeling bold in the cover of night, you pressed your lips to his cheek, uttering a quiet “thank you.”

He didn’t react. Disappointed, you moved to sit back down at the desk until he grabbed your arm, gently pulling you back to him.

“Were you telling the truth?” he asked, his voice a husky, demanding whisper. “Back at the bar.”

“Yes.”

“So if I said I’ve wanted you in a bad way since Bastogne?”

You kissed him, an explosion of warmth in your chest as you tangled your fingers in his hair. He settled his hands on your hips, squeezing them with a tenderness that betrayed his longing. Parting your lips for him, you allowed him to deepen the kiss, wanting to see how far he’d take it.

Almost overwhelmed by his gentle intensity, you pulled away from his lips, though his mouth chased yours, capturing yet another kiss from you.

“Show me how you want me,” you pleaded with desperate kisses to his face, trailing down to his throat where you could feel the way he groaned in pleasure at your touch.

“In my room,” he managed to say. “I wanna lay you on the bed and–”

“Anything, anything you want, Ron.”

His lips slightly blushed from the ferocity of your kiss, he parted his mouth as if to speak, but instead took your hand firmly in his.

He led you straight down the nondescript hallway that nevertheless left you feeling turned around, dizzied by your desire for him. A door opened, and you were promptly pulled inside the room. The click of the lock behind you sent a slight shiver down your spine.

Pulled into his arms again, you lost yourself in his fervent kiss, until you reached down, palming his hardening cock through his pants. He moaned into your mouth, the sound only exacerbating the heat between your thighs, the ache inside of you that up until that point had been abated by your fingers, always rushed, never satisfying the urge to be filled–by him, preferably. From the way he felt beneath your hand, he could do all of that and more.

And after the months of silently, almost guiltily lusting after him like a nun, he wanted you too. The ego boost emboldened you. “Did you ever think about me when you were alone?” you asked, giving his bulge a gentle squeeze.

“Yes–fuck,” he groaned.

“Like what?”

“Besides keeping me warm in that goddamn forest? This–I thought of this,” he murmured against your lips. “But I didn’t let myself think of a future with you. I couldn’t have survived if I did.”

“And now?”

“I want everything you’ll give me, sweetheart.”

“Lucky you, that’s exactly what I wanna give.”

He smiled slightly, his hands hastily working to unbutton your shirt. “Lucky–except you’re wearing too many clothes.”

You reached for the pearls, about to take them off when he caught your wrist in his hand.

“Leave them on.” His voice was steady, authoritative, the closest he sounded to Speirs since he scolded the private who walked into you earlier.

Weak in the knees, you acquiesced to the one and only order your captain would give you that night. You otherwise undressed, your uniform in a pile at your feet. Your bra and panties were simple, certainly not the sexy lingerie you’d fantasized about seducing Ron in, but his eyes blazed as if your body were hugged by an inviting satin set. A burst of confidence rushed through you, and you held his gaze as you discarded your bra and panties.

You laid back on the bed as he undressed, watching intently until he was down to nothing more than his underwear, his hard cock straining against the fabric. He pulled them off, and you sucked in a breath at how big he was. Erect, at attention for you, all the more intimidating as he approached, joining you on the bed. His daring in the line of fire sure as hell wasn’t compensating for anything.

He straddled your hips, his eyes taking in your naked form with a primal intensity that made your breath catch in your throat. He reached down, two of his fingers circling your clit, your body trembled beneath his touch. By the way he studied how your face contorted in pleasure as a foreign-sounding moan rose from deep in your chest, you could tell it was payback for your teasing him just minutes before.

His fingers shifted, slipping inside your wet core with ease. He pumped them in and out at a steady pace that made your stomach tighten and toes curl, but slowly bringing you closer to orgasm. You bucked your hips when he curled his fingers inside of you, blood rushing in your ears so loud that you could hardly hear the obscene sounds coming from your pussy. A lump formed in your throat, one that made you nearly howl in frustration.

“Who got you this worked up, sweetheart?” he asked, nipping the shell of your ear.

A whimper. “You.”

“What was that?”

“You.” Through a haze of lust-soaked desperation, you took his face in your hands. “Don’t make me beg, Sparky. It’s always been you.”

He pulled his hand from between your legs, and you nearly whined until he slid his length inside your pussy, your walls clenching around his cock. You braced yourself on his shoulder blades, your nails doing a number on him as you dug them into his taut skin while he thrust into you. Carefully at first, almost frustratingly so, until you cried, “More.”

He was bigger than you were used to, even before the war, but the slight discomfort was drowned out by the way his steady, deep thrusts filled you. He ducked his head down, taking one of your breasts in his mouth, his hand groping the other. Sucking on your breast, his teeth grazed your nipple, the hint of pain complimenting the pleasure. Your climax was so close you could see it if you closed your eyes, raw and vulnerable.

“Ron, I’m so close,” you moaned. “Don’t stop.”

He lifted his head, nodding. “Where should I–”

“Inside–fuck–I want you to cum inside me.”

And he did, with an erratic thrust that pushed him deeper inside you still. You kissed him as your pussy milked his cock, lifting your hips to grind against him for the slightest bit of friction to your clit. You threw your head back as you came, an obscene moan escaping your lips as pleasure spread across your body, white-hot like a star in supernova.

His name fell from your lips, laced with curses, over and over like a vulgar prayer. He pressed sloppy, open-mouthed kisses along your decollete, his lips brushing the pearls that stuck to your sweat-sheened skin until he shuddered, bottoming out in you.

He pulled out slowly, his toned chest heaving before he collapsed next to you. Reaching over to the nightstand, he grabbed a pack of cigarettes, silently offering you one. You declined, and he placed one between his lips, using a nearby match to light it before taking you in his arms. You settled comfortably against his chest, closing your eyes for a few moments.

“So, what about that report?” you asked slyly when you’d finally caught your breath.

His quiet laughter rumbled in his chest, and he took a drag from his cigarette, his gaze betraying his adoration as he looked at you. “I might need your help again tomorrow night."

Knowing it was too risky for you to spend the night, he reluctantly let you leave around three in the morning, a slight pout on his face as you took off the pearl necklace and tucked it into your pocket. You left him with a passionate parting kiss, one that he used to nearly convince you to stay just a little bit longer until you quietly promised you’d report to him first thing.

The streets were mostly deserted except for the men on patrol. You kept your head down, booking it back to where you were quartered, hoping your arrival wouldn’t wake anyone up, or at least raise any questions.

Just your luck, you ran right into Tab, a shit-eating grin on his face at your disheveled appearance. “I knew it."

#ronald speirs x reader #ron speirs x reader #band of brothers #band of brothers x reader #band of brothers fanfic #band of brothers imagine #hbo war #hbo war fanfic

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venus-haze · 10 months

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Happy 1 year, Battie! I’m so happy for you dude 🫶

If it’s okay I was wondering if you could do a headcannon for Mickey Altieri X Ghostface!Girlfriend!Reader by any chance? (I’m delusionaly obsessed with him) so like how he’d be with his S/O if she was also a ghostface?

Again, CONGRATULATIONS!!!!!!! <3 - cj

Hey CJ! Thank you so much🖤 I absolutely love this idea oh my god! I hope it's okay I went with a gender neutral reader for this!

Mickey Altieri x Ghostface!S/O!Reader Headcanons

Warnings: Corruption, murder, violence, mentions of sex but nothing too explicit. Do not interact if you're under 18 or post thinspo/ED content.

Mickey hadn’t meant for you to find out when you did, but you showed up to his dorm unannounced, and when you saw the Ghostface costume, the voice modifier, the knives–it didn’t take long for you to put two and two together

He didn’t want to kill you, that was never part of his plan, but neither was you offering to help him in exchange for your silence. He was calculating, initially setting his sights on you because you were the member of Sidney’s friend group he liked the most, figuring dating you would be another way to worm his way into her life and offset suspicion. You seemed normal, but then again, so did he

You start off small, making the phone calls while he makes the kills. Mickey assures you it’s untraceable, and you start really letting loose with the voice modifier and unlisted number protecting your identity. Some of the things you say and hear do stay with you afterward

Killing makes your boyfriend way too horny to even begin thinking about regrets, though. He'll drag you to the nearest hiding place, sometimes not even making it to either of your respective dorm rooms to ride out the adrenaline from what he'd just done

Soon, the anticipation of fucking Mickey after a kill overtakes any sense of reason. You start to wonder if you’d feel the same way he does when he kills

“Hey Mickey,” you ask quietly one night after a kill, his room quiet except for the sounds of your breathing, “what does it feel like when you–you know?”

“When I what?” He knows exactly what you’re talking about, but he wants to hear you say it, and you do, cautiously, your voice barely above a whisper as you’re terrified of what saying it out loud means for you, “When you kill someone?”

“I don’t think I can describe it. It’s something you have to experience yourself, baby,” he says, a grin spreading across his face when you say, “Maybe next time I can do it, then”

The next kill is yours, it’s someone not entirely important to the overall plan that he and his other mystery accomplice have in mind, but they saw too much one night and are still a risk. Mickey warns you, though: no backing out and no second thoughts, either you kill them or he’ll kill you both

Mickey makes the call, and you linger outside the mostly empty frat house. You can hear the target’s voice raising, his voice shaking as he threatens the unknown caller. Taking this as your signal, you sneak in through the open backdoor

You follow the sound of the guy’s voice, slinking down the darkened hallways to catch him by surprise. You can hear him clearly, him and Mickey. When you knock on the door, just as you and Mickey planned, you can hear your boyfriend’s modified voice say “You should get that”

You knock again, harder this time, and the door swings open. The guy has no time to react before you drive the knife into his chest, leaving it there for a few agonizing moments as you come to terms with what you just did. Finally, you pull it out and then stab him over and over, a frenzy overtaking you as his blood pools beneath his body on the floor

Pulling the knife from the body for the last time after you finally got a hold of yourself, you didn’t even hear Mickey come in until he whispered “Oh fuck,” from behind you

“You did so fucking good,” he says breathlessly. There’s not much time to celebrate, the two of you have to book it out of there before anyone notices

As soon as you get back to your dorm however, it’s game over, and he’s on you as soon as the door’s shut. “You’re a natural, baby,” Mickey praises, kissing you with the same intensity he did after he made kills. You get it now, fully and completely, the remorse you thought you’d feel is nonexistent, instead, you elicit a moan from your boyfriend when you tell him you wanna do it again

#mickey altieri x reader #mickey altieri headcanons #mickey altieri #scream 2 #ghostface x reader #battie's 1 year celebration

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mermaidsirennikita · 3 months

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Hi! I've been following your blog for a couple years since loving DiW and really enjoy your recs so I was wondering do you know any historical romances where the male lead has personality similar to Erik/the phantom from poto or is disfigured / wears a mask etc? Thank you!

Thank you so much, first off!

BOY. DO. I.

So the first one I'm going to recommend is not a strict historical romance... Like it is, and it isn't, but I'm going to strongly recommend you check it out because the entire series is amazing and if you're a POTO fan I think you may be able to get behind some BATTINESS.

It's Firelight by Kristen Callihan, the first in her fabulous Darkest London series. Which is absolutely set in the Victorian London we know and love... just with like. Supernatural creatures running around. The average people don't know about it, it really isn't Steampunk despite what people will tell you. It is a historical romance series. But with magic. It reads VERY similar to the 1999 Mummy, tonally speaking.

So, why I'm recommending it: Our heroine, Miranda, secretly has these fire powers. She's accidentally burned shit down in the past, her dad SUUUCKS and has had her pick pockets for him before, etc. But basically, hard times are hitting, and I think her dad owes the hero something... and the hero is like cool you can square up by giving me YOUR DAUGHTERRRR. But the hero, Archer, wears like, a full mask. Like a porcelain mask. And won't let her see his face at all. And is OBSESSED with her.

Features one of my favorite moments in a long time, where he gets stabbed in one of his mysterious evening excursions (TM) and refuses to let her help him medically, so she basically just follows him as he manfully bleeds out in their palatial estate until he's about to lose consciousness and is like "FINE MIRANDA YOU CAN HELP".

Ummm my favorite Grace Callaway book, Pippa and The Prince of Secrets, is a fun option. Pippa is a widow, and Cull is the guy who gave her her first kiss before they were separated. He now runs a band of CHILD THIEVES!!! and wears a mask because half of his face has been horribly scarred. The scene where he first lets her view his face without the mask is SO. EMOTIONAL. I got choked up.

Also they use a sex swing at one point. Cull FUCKS. But he also skulks and yearns.

She Tempts the Duke by Lorraine Heath has a hero who's scarred on one side of his face is very angsty about it (he doesn't wear a mask, but he does wear an eyepatch). The heroine knew him as a kid, they were falling in love (in a childish way) and he had to run away with his brothers because their uncle was trying to kill them. He comes back years later, scarred and self-loathing and very much a brooder, and she's about to get engaged to another man. Cue the angst!

The Taming of a Highlander by Elisa Braden. In this one, the hero was wrongfully detained for something he didn't do, and was very brutally treated and scarred on one half of his face as a result. (Another "no to mask, yes to eyepatch" book.) The heroine is this very sweet girl and ends up having to marry him in order to avoid testifying against him. It's very much a "he hates himself, she helps him heal" book and it's soooo good. Especially if you like a "it'll never fit" moment. Which.

To Beguile a Beast by Elizabeth Hoyt has a hero who's scarred, and again, eyepatch--and he's been hiding up in his big Scottish lair/castle, when the heroine comes to act as his housekeeper with her two kids in tow. What he doesn't know is that she's on the run from her kids' father, as she was his mistress and he was horrible. The hero does a lot of "I'M A MONSTER" stuff but he also bends her over his desk and fucks her soooo.

To a lesser extent, Hoyt's The Raven Prince may also give you this vibe. The hero is scarred, but this time from smallpox--he's still very dramatic about it. (In many ways, this book is Jane Eyre but with fucking and without a kid.) The heroine is his secretary, and they get into this tension-filled situation.

#romance novel blogging #romance novels #book recs

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tinisquidz · 3 months

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Adult!Zenitsu A. Spicy Headcanons (Fem!Reader)

I don’t think I can live without him for some strange reason.

Zenitsu may be a bit of a pervert, but you best believe he knows how to please.

Does research on one thing and one thing only, and that’s sex. This boy knows what he’s doing, though he may be a bit nervous doing it at first.

Dom’s dream sub but may want to be in control once he gets comfortable. After all, he wants to prove himself as your partner.

Thunder breathing as punishment….once in an upper moon. ^^

Mostly gentle as hell tho. It’s actually batty.

Loves to overstimulate. Happens by accident in the beginning, when he’s still far too excited when you’ve had enough, but soon becomes one of his favorite things to do to you.

If you’ve honestly and truly had enough, he may lock himself in the bathroom and finish himself off. (But pretty rarely. You don't mind just riding it out on most nights, especially through his sweet talk and apologies, “Just a little more, please y/n-chan. I know, I’m sorry— gasps– I know…”)

Enjoys being cared for and babied a little too much, buuuut you love it.

His ears are SO sensitive. Please give them as much attention as possible, he’ll get chills and tremble beneath your lips every time.

Honestly, he’s pretty sensitive in general, everywhere. And he’s crazy sweet about it too, blushing and smiling like a mess no matter where your hands go.

Unless y’all are deep into the act, when a certain look of possessive lust enters his eyes. He starts panting slightly between moans, which there are a lot of.

Volume varies but they’re always plentiful.

Zenitsu is romantic, dude. Every night you do the do he’s lighting your favorite scented candles.

On special occasions, he’ll drape the room in red rose petals.

And owns a drawer containing way too many toys to count.

Despite eating up your reactions to them like they’re the tastiest of treats, he prefers to use his hands. He simply can’t deny his adoration towards the massive boost of ego.

He looks forward to Valentine’s Day because you’d tie him up in red ribbons and ride him until sunrise. (Ever since he suggested it the first time, it became your guys’ tradition.)

Huge cuddler.

Totally falls asleep at night palming your ass like nobody’s business.

Either that or his head’s in your lap following your afternoon sessions.

Favorite body parts: You love his eyes. He loves your thighs.

As for positions, lotus n’ mating press are the most visited, but y'all are absolutely everywhere.

THE END…. ahhhhhthankyouforyourtime.

#zenitsu agatsuma #kny x reader

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bisexual-horror-fan · 1 year

Note

Oh my god Bex my life has come full circle and I need to tell you about it, because I have you to thank for this amazing discovery.

SO. I love all the Buddy Swanson fics I see floating around and especially the gifs but I could never shake the feeling that he looked familiar. Whatever, I don't want to look anything up because what if I accidentally get spoiled before I watch the movie. Well, I was having a little scroll and saw a Buddy gif you reblogged and my little neurodivergent brain decided now is the time to finally get motivated to watch Stage Fright and not do anything else before I do that.

Now. I'm watching the movie right. I think holy shit he really looks familiar I want to look it up so bad but I probably shouldn't. I try and shake the feeling. I fucking can't. I look it up. What do I find out? Douglas Smith didn't just play Buddy Swanson in Stage Fright, he also played Tyson, the cyclops, in the (horrible horrible horrible) second Percy Jackson movie, Percy Jackson: Sea of Monsters.

There were two things I liked about the second movie - The "Don't walk on my roof" line and Tyson. I had such a big crush on him. Now I'm watching him in Stage Fright and can't control my giggles. I'm twirling my hair, kicking my feet, blushing like a nun in a sex shop and holding my hand infront of my face every two seconds because I'm just so in love.

Bex. Thank you for finally getting my brain to watch this movie. I feel fullfilled.

- 🦇

Oooooh Batty! This is huge! I never got into those movies but found out he played that character when I was in the Douglas Smith tag a while back! I am so fucking glad you are watching this movie and loving it and him! Fr Buddy Swanson is one of my fave characters and made it so I will watch just about anything that has Douglas Smith in it! He is also like the main dude in The Bye Bye Man, he looks really cute, wears glasses and band shirts and stuff but man even for him, it's a hard watch.

(Also, also, he plays the main love interest's best friend in the 2004 film The Sleepover, stacked cast, he gets shafted cuz he is WAY cuter than the guy we as the audience are supposed to like.)

So glad to see you in my askbox again Batty and hope you enjoy the Buddy fics post Stage Fright, they deff hit different.

#BHF asks #🦇Anon #Legit tho in the movie the sleepover some girl comes up to him and asks HIM to ask HIS FRIEND to dance with her???#INSTEAD OF ASKING THE VERY CUTE DOUGLAS SMITH RIGHT THERE #AND HE SAYS NO AND SHE INSISTS #And he says to his bro “That's my dream girl. Go dance with her.” AND HIS FRIEND DOES #LIKE #He sucks #Anyway Batty never stop sending me asks

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muffindaddystyles · 3 years

Text

LOVE ME, WRESTLE ME.

Boyfriendrry blurb of some smutty and fluffy thought.

Taking online classes, resting, doing assignments, then spending some time with Harry and watching a movie at night that always ends up in a good fuck isn't boring but it's insipid.

The cooe of rain outside's soothing and tranquil enough to fill in already comfortable silence between you people, your lips murmuring around the instinctive words from the scrabby page of the Oscar Wilde's; The selfish giant. Your knees are hiked up sitting in the love seat opposite to where Harry's sitting on the messy-ly made bed since you both were feeling a tad lazy and in mood to procrastinate house chores.

You're constantly loosing your focus, because you're terribly horny at the moment and Harry in a baggy yellow pawy sweater spread on his tummy over the bed doing nothing but staring at you like he'd swallow you whole isn't helping at all with the ache between your thighs.

So, you do what was needed to be done.

His eyes follows your commotion as you leave your spot kneeing up on the edge of bed, your crotch against his face and you look down at him with a witty smirk.

"Wrestle me." Your voice challenging. You arch your brow with profound irritation when he intentionally dismisses you off by rumbling his lips to blow away the curls falling over his dooey eyes.

"Pardon?" He creates a noise, within a click of his tongue or his hand against your bare thigh (fondling the soft skin he's obsessed with) that dries your throat with hunger. He heard it right. There was no wavering in what you invited him for.

You guys have this game where he has to make you cum within two minutes and you've to wrestle him off, if you loose and cum you've to keep him warm and sloppy in your mouth until it turns into a nice blowie so it's a win win either way.

You fail every time. Most of it is very obvious.

But, right now he's trying to rile your nerves up by acting like an utterly supine cow.

"Hmm?" The questioning hum turns into a giggly squeal when he grabs your ankle and throws you onto the mattress like a rag doll, "S' fuckin' insatiable all the time ..." He growls towering above you, pushing your thighs apart with a tight grip to your soft fleshy insides that makes you hiss. A laugh pits up in your belly from the thrill of shutting them back and fighting him off to piss him further.

Ofcourse him being stronger than you fails you to do so and a loud moan bubbles around you when he licks his palm till the tips of his fingers and smacks your already soaking centre harshly.

"Fuck." You mewl softly sinking into sheets when he yanks your shorts down leaving you in nothing but his large hoodie, your pussy lips flutter from the heated sensation of your stickiness coming in contact with the sting of his chilly rings.

He pins your wrist atop your head and fits himself between your wide opened legs grinding his hard (trouser clad) prick against your heating centre in vigorous rubs, leaving a burn with every stroke and making you loose your stance with the growing desire to have his fingers inside you.

"C'mon fight me now." He grits. Glowering down at you sternly and your tummy coils against his's pelvis with each nasty roll of his hips, you gasp around a sob when he nips at the soft skin of your jaw. He wants you to surrender yourself to him but your ego's more than that so with a trick of pulling at his hair you flip him on his back and crawl up to straddle his torso jerking his shoulder down.

"Aha!" You grin in a victory. His brows pinches down furiously and before you know his calloused hand came spanking your butt-cheek making your face smash into the crook of his neck with an unexpected vulgar series of moans, "Bratty little fuck doll." He grunts landing another spank right where the first one left crimson imprints, again and again till you're a squirming crying mess.

He slides his two fingers down your puckering rim to where you're dripping with wetness and teases your entrance by never dipping them in till the end but rather stroking the spongy wall of your soppy cunt.

You squeal when he flips you on your tummy and leans all his weight over your back to glide his hand between the compact space of their bottoms, he patches breathy kisses to the side of your neck leaving love marks, sliding in his fingers deep inside that when you feel a certain crack resonating to your ears and shooting pain till your toes making them jelly.

You're fucked.

It all happened from your arm placed at the weird angle while he had your hips in air.

"Harry, I think. I might've broken my wrist." You stammer in a calm voice though, barely able to speak when the pang in your joint's inflaming like a wildfire along with the pleasure that's subsiding into an akward spasmy feeling as you pulsates around his fingers.

"Sucha bullshit excuse to mice outta yer defeat." He rasps to you smugly. Your face scrunches up in pain and your head falls into the throw pillow.

"No . ." You shake your head quickly gulping down the thick tears down your throat and when his head clears out from the fog of lust, noticing the weakness in your words he immediately pulls his digits out, "Holy ... Fuck." You try to stay placid knowing his insides are ticking in panic and is about to explode in one, two and —

"Baby -– how — how are y'so calm? Is it hurting? Show me." The shift in his demeanor is adorable as minutes ago he was about to rail you to unconsciousness and now he's the softest cutest caring boyfriend.

Tears prickles at your waterline when he presses his thumb into your wrist bone ever so diligently and it jolts severe pain up your arm.

"I think it's, 'm so so sorry baby. We should go to hospital. Stay here, yeah?" He tells you cupping your cheeks worriedly and rushes to fetch a wet rag when you nod through a sniff and wobbly lips.

He cleans you off, shushing you with tender kisses to your ankles when the throb got overwhelming. Helps you wearing your jeans and shoes being careful not to hurt your wrist any further in doing so.

"It's okay, you're okay lovie —- if the pain's too much —--- dunno we should probably run to hospital." He's out of breath snatching the keys and his coat taking glances of you after every second to make sure you're okay, more like assuring himself, "Bub it wasn't your fault. It was an accident, I can endure a lil bit pain." Through the whole call ride he was jittery and twitchy waiting for to reach the clinic speedily.

He has you embraced by his side with a careful support of his palm under your wrist so it wouldn't dangle that much as he walks you inside.

The doctor sitting infront of you two stares at the way you both are flushed, rosy cheeks, ruffled hair and sheened skin radiating 'we were in the middle of having great sex.' But, she chooses not to speak as you shrink to Harry's side timidly from the embarrassment and shyness.

Harry just passes you a nervous smile squeezing your shoulder to cheer you up and nudges you when the doctor asks the ever awaiting question.

"So . . . How did it happen?"

"Cupboard —-" You speak.

"She fell of —-" And he speaks at the same time.

You look at eachother with wide shocked eyes but then he clear his throat allowing you to speak, "I was putting some dishes up in the cupboard when I lost my footing and knocked my wrist against it." The doctor surely didn't give into your guys shit. Nodding along to your made up story.

You guys feel exposed when the doctor spoke inspecting Y/N wrist, "The injury caused from the pressure of weight, splinting the bone away and tearing the muscle too ... nothing that wouldn't heal in two weeks. You'll be good with an arm cast and these pain killers."

When you step out into the waiting corridor it feels like your secret has been revealed to every single person sitting there and you pull the strings of your hoodie to cover your face and Harry chuckles kissing your head at your silliness.

Once in the privacy of car he speaks looking at your cast properly, "One thing fo' sure that game isn't made fo' us -- you're too delicate to play it just fo' fun and thrill. Next, time just ask me to fuck you baby and I'll surely do it happily." He sighs a puff of breath kissing your cast and patting it lightly jerking back in horror when you yelp.

"Ouch!" He takes your jaw to kiss your lips upon seeing you grinning at your own misheviousness.

"Ye' batty little creature, stop messin' with your poor boyfriend!" He grumps cheekily at your playfullness.

"'M sorry, daddy will you take care of me?" You blink sickly coy through your lashes. Pouting up at him innocently and he shakes his head bopping your nose.

"You just wait and watch." He kisses the side of your head while reversing the car.

"How about we start from drawing dicks on ye' cast, hmm? How bout that?" He smirks and you gasp surprised at his antics.

"Harry!" The car fills up with laughter and giggles until he takes a rough turn.

"You better drive safe else 'm walking home!"

#harry styles imagines #dirty harry styles imagines #harry styles blurb #harry styles smut #harry angst #harry styles fanfiction #dom harry #harry styles #cute harry #fluff #IDK IF YOULL LIKE IT BUT THIS IDEA WAS SWIMMING IN MY DIRTY HEAD FOR SO LONG UNTIL IT ENDED UP BEING A FLUFF

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ourloveisforthelovely · 3 years

Text

In Love and Death. Part 1

Harry Potter AU (request fic)

Summary: (set during current time) Regulus Black has made a lot of mistakes. Now he has a chance to fix the mistakes or possibly make them worse.

Pairings: Regulus Black x Reader

Rating: M- later chapters

Song at the beginning: Sweater Weather by The Neighbourhood

_____

She knows what I think about and what I think about...one love, two mouths, one love, one house. No shirt, no blouse. Just us, you find out...

“I’m going to hell.”

It was the thought going through Regulus’ head as he looked down at your sleeping form.

“I’m going to hell and Evan is going to kick my ass from one side of the place to another but she’s worth it...always will be worth it.”

Regulus turned on his back and slammed his head down on the pillow. His life was one series of failures after another. After drowning and staying dead for a while, Regulus woke up at the bottom of the cave’s lake surrounded by actually dead inferi. As he kicked to the surface the best thing that Regulus could put together was the potion didn’t let him be fully drowned or Voldemort was really losing his touch.

Things were, even more, confusing the first time that Regulus looked at himself. He hadn’t changed. The boy looking back in the mirror was the same boy that Regulus was when he had gone to that cave in the first place.

Dead things don’t age.

His mind had supplied. Confusing was the best way to describe everything. Waking up in a different generation, finding out Sirius had gone to prison and was now on the run, and realizing the secret that he “died for” was out...Regulus had to sit quietly and take everything in. It took Sirius and Remus talking to him numerous times to get Regulus to actually speak again.

That is where you came in and shook his fucked up world some more. You were an auror and a young one at that. Before you walked into Grimmauld Place and made Regulus feel like he had been slapped on the back of the head with a book, he never had any interest in falling in love. It was too risky and he didn’t have the time nor the drive for it. Now some girl with sandy hair and bright blue eyes was making him reconsider everything that he felt about relations and Regulus had no clue who you were.

It wasn’t until Sirius introduced the two of you after seeing his brother’s expression did Regulus realize how fucked he was…Evan Rosier’s daughter...you were his fucking best friend’s daughter that had clearly grown up in the time that Regulus was dead.

Regulus had to quickly look away in order to chastise himself for even looking at you that way. It didn’t matter that you were an adult (and a very attractive adult at that). Regulus was there when you were born. Hell, he had been there when Evan turned up at Grimmauld Place the summer before 7th year freaking out because his girlfriend was pregnant. It had taken Regulus all that he had to not tell Evan that he was a fucking fool when the other boy made the comment that he was told that Emma wouldn’t get pregnant if she jumped up and down after sex. Regulus had sat there staring at Evan the whole time with a frown.

“Jumping up and down? What? Where do you get your facts? My mother, as prudish as she is, at least gave me a pamphlet on what happens. I told you not to listen to the Carrow twins!”

Regulus had to shake the thoughts from his mind as he took in your confused expression. The moment that you spoke for the first time, Regulus again felt like he had been whacked with a book.

“Sirius, I thought that you said your brother was dead?”

Sirius nodded then shrugged.

“Yes but apparently he’s not. It's kind of confusing.”

“So Supernatural dead?”

“Excuse me, but what is Supernatural and just what does this have to do with me?”

Regulus had finally started to become annoyed with wondering what the two of you were talking about. It was Sirius that had to give him the update on “pop culture.”

The next few weeks led to Regulus falling further and further in love with you. Whether it was wrong or not, he couldn’t help it.

“She won’t want me. I’m a former dark wizard. She’s an auror. What kind of fucked up joke would that be?”

Others in the Order, particularly Alastor Moody, took great pride in watching every move that Regulus made around you. Moody was not about to let one of the girls that he cared about could be harmed by someone that was on his “list” once upon a time. It didn’t matter to Moody that “to the world,” Regulus and yourself would physically make a cute couple. To someone looking in, they would assume Regulus was just some 18-year-old kid and would have a decent shot with you.

“It's best you stay away from Y/n. You are old enough to be her father. I don’t care how young you look or if you have been taking a years-long siesta...you’re a death eater and that’s what you’ll always be in my eyes. Y/n has dealt with a lot in her life. Her family has abandoned her. She doesn’t need some guy who has affiliations with those people.”

Regulus still scowled at Moody’s comment. It didn’t matter to the auror that Regulus actually provided proof that he “wasn’t bad.” To Moody, that dark mark on Regulus’ arm would always be damning evidence that he couldn’t be trusted.

To Moody’s displeasure, you agreed to go with Regulus on a several months mission to Greece. Regulus had to fight back a fit of laughter as Moody threw a fit like an overgrown child about it. It wasn’t until you came into the conversation did the elder auror cool his heels down.

All of the previous events led up to Regulus’ current situation. The two of you had been in Greece for a few days spying on what looked like was the Carrows. It was day three when you kissed him for the first time. The memory would be forever ingrained into his memory….

Regulus stood looking over the edge of the hotel balcony. After another day of watching his former friends wander around like blind idiots, Regulus was exhausted. He wasn’t a “sit back and watch” type. He would much rather just go and hex the hell out of the Carrow twins then ask for forgiveness later. The sensible side of his head, however, told him to cool his heels and calm the fuck down. If he wanted any hope of clearing his name and showing that he wasn’t a monster; going against what the Order wanted was no way to do it.

“Regulus?”

He turned at the sound of your voice calling his name. You stepped out onto the balcony with him.

“Have they done anything new?”

Regulus shook his head.

“I think Amycus will need a new liver soon. I have never seen someone drink so much.”

You laughed at the comment as you began to watch Amycus practically snog the bottle of fire whiskey. Regulus, meanwhile, kept his eyes on you. It was wrong to be looking at you like this. He bloody held you as a newborn; now he was drooling over you.

You reminded Regulus of Evan. There was the same serious expression that Evan wore 95% of the time along with his physical looks. Regulus was thankful, however, that you were nothing like the Rosier family. You were spunky and had an amusing sense of humor.

After a few moments, you turned back to the man at your side.

“Can I ask you something?”

Regulus nodded. He was trying to keep himself as closed off as possible to you. Maybe if he acted as if he wasn’t interested then you would believe him.

“Yes?”

“Don’t get mad.”

You said before standing on your tiptoes and pressing a kiss to his lips.

After that, he was hooked. You didn’t kiss him again for another two days. In fact, it was Regulus that made the next move. He had spent enough time in his head going batty until he had to touch you again. To his pleasure, you didn’t fight back.

“I’m too old for you.”

Regulus mumbled between kisses. Your fingers were locked into his hair making sure that he wasn’t about to get a clean getaway.

“No one would know. We look that same age.”

“This is really fucked up. You know what I am…”

Your hand was on his lips silencing any further comment.

“What you were. Not now. I don’t care what our friends say. My family...I’m a blood traitor to them so they aren’t shocked by anything that I do anymore.”

Your moving pulled Regulus from his thoughts. He quickly closed his eyes hoping that you would think that he was still sleeping and not worrying about what was going on in his head.

“I know you're awake.”

You said with a grin. Regulus’ sighed as you wiggled your way on top of him. His grey eyes rolled up to your bright blue ones. You were used to the serious expression on his face. It was rare when you got a smile from him.

“Beautiful boy.”

You said with a smile. Regulus reached up and grabbed your hand. He gave you a raised eyebrow before bringing your hand to his lips.

“You spoil me.”

This was how the two of you had spent most mornings. The Carrows didn’t come out until typically late in the evening so that left Regulus and yourself with free time during the day.

“As I should.”

You replied, stroking your hands through his messy hair. Although neither of you had said “I love you” yet, you knew that you were in love with Regulus. This was the first time that you had felt that emotion in your life. You credited this to your parents. More like your mother, Emma. She never told you one time that she loved you or made you feel loved. You assumed that she just went crazy after your father died.

Regulus was in the same boat. He didn’t talk about his parents much. In fact, he didn’t want to talk about his childhood ever. What you knew about his childhood, you had learned from Sirius. At first, you didn’t think that Regulus would want anything to do with you. That quickly changed, however, when he realized how nice it was to have someone want him. He was as touch starved as you were! It was rather amusing how you had gone from being a girl who “didn’t need a man” to a girl who bent over backward to please the man that you were falling in love with.

You already knew that your friends wouldn’t be thrilled with the relationship. Tonks had already sent a text asking if something was going on with Regulus. You simply brushed off the question with some witty humor (but you knew Tonks wouldn’t be so easily thrown off).

“Y/n, please. The two of you have nothing in common. He’s dangerous and I think that you know it. An auror dating a former death eater isn’t a good look no matter what Regulus can do to prove his innocence. I just care about you. If Regulus can come back from the dead what’s not saying your father won’t?”

It didn’t matter how many times you told Tonks that Regulus’ waking up was most likely due to Voldemort. Your father was killed by Moody. If he came back from the dead then there was definitely some weird shit going on.

“We have to go back tomorrow.”

Regulus’ calm tone pulled you from your thoughts. He quickly pulled you back down into the bed beside him. You settled yourself against his chest as Regulus reached up to gently stroke your hair.

“I know. I’ve been dreading it.”

Regulus was quiet for a few moments.

“So do we break up and act as if nothing happened between us or are we going to go in and be ready to fight?”

Your head snapped up.

“I don’t want to break up. I want to be with you.”

The question broke your heart. You wished that things could be as easy as they appeared. To others in this hotel, Regulus and yourself looked like innocent teenagers out on a holiday. They didn’t know the “truth” but your friends would know.

Regulus took his place on top of you. His left hand had gone back to your face. Your eyes fluttered to the dark mark on his arm. Maybe you were being childish but you didn’t care about that brand on your lover’s body. He was a different man now.

“I want to be with you too. I don’t care what our so-called friends have to say. It's not going to be easy and I think you are a smart enough girl to know that.”

Regulus was relieved when you pulled him down for a kiss.

“I’ve faced a lot of bad things in my past. I’m not scared of making my friends mad. They’ll either accept it or we can go out on our own.”

Regulus sat up. Going off on your own would be a lot easier said than done. There would be no way in hell that Alastor Moody was about to let one of his aurors go off with a death eater. Alastor Moody would track Regulus down like a dog and take you away.

You were on your knees behind him in an instant. Pushing a chunk of his curls away from his face, you pressed kisses to his jawline.

“You know that is a lot easier said than done. If we go off on our own...find our own little place...it's not going to look good on your job being married to a death eater. We’ve had this conversation before, Y/n.”

Regulus stated, calmly. He could tell that you were beginning to get frustrated the moment that you pulled away from him.

“Yes, we have. No one has to know what you were. You keep your arm covered up. Besides, there are a lot of former death eaters running around just fine. Take a look at Lucius Malfoy, for example.”

Regulus rolled his eyes again.

“Yes, love, I know. Lucius Malfoy is the scary mother fucker that gets away with everything. I don’t think that I am going to be that lucky.”

You got out of bed and slipped the lace nightie that you were wearing off.

“We shouldn’t worry about things that haven’t even happened yet. Come join me in the shower.”

_______

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#Regulus Black #Regulus Black x Reader #Sirius Black #Remus Lupin #nymphadora tonks #tonks x remus #timothee chalamet as regulus black #regulus x reader #regulus black fics #harry potter au #the ancient and noble house of black #evan rosier #the rosier family #mad eye moody #the order of the phoenix #former death eater regulus #In Love and Death #In Love and Death Story

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drawlfoy · 4 years

Text

The Wonders of Ohio P.5

masterlist (check here for parts 1-4!) request guidelines

pairing: draco x reader

request: from 14 year old me babey

warnings: cringe, mentions of drug use, mentions of sex, language, and just bad writing

summary: y/n is in her senior year of high school when she is asked to take on an exchange student from britain that’s a little...different. this is NOT a nonmagic AU. draco is still a wizard and this will become and integral part of the story shortly.

a/n: heyyyy everyone. i graduated from high school this week and i’m posting this as my happy-one-year-to-me. as some of you may know, i posted my very first fic on this day a year ago. i’m really happy to see how i’ve grown since and i’m so lucky to have shared this with all of you. anyways, nittygritty--

this part is really the last slow exposition chapter. chapters 6 on will be a whole whirlwind beginning with homecoming and i hope that you guys are willing to stick around. i promise itll be worth the wait. y/n is going to get the story arc of a lifetime and also please do not hate heather she is just going through it ok

anywayssssssss

tags tags tags @gruffle1 @missmulti @cleopatera @hahaboop @accio-rogers @geeksareunique @eltanin-malfoy @war-sword @cams-lynn @itsivyberry @ayo-cowbelly @nerd-domland @erisdogwood @loveissupernatural

word count: 4.6k (;))

song recs:

strawberry blonde -- mitski

in your neighbors garden -- mimi bay

wishes -- beach house

ode to artifice -- samia

pink in the night -- mitski

enjoy <3

The seatbelt buckle scorched the side of Y/N’s exposed neck as she turned to face the disheveled blonde in the passenger seat.

“Do I need to teach you to set an alarm?”

Draco let out a huff. “Stop. Do you have a….a comb, or a brush, or something here?” His hands looked abnormally fidgety. Their actions were shaky, varying from patting his pockets to running through his hair. He seemed more and more frustrated each time his hands left his pockets empty.

How curious Y/N thought as she racked her brain for any remembrance of putting a brush in her car. It was always a mess, and she honestly couldn’t blame Draco for assuming that anything could be in there.

“I don’t think there’s one here,” said Y/N, trying to sound at least a little sympathetic despite the fact that his tardiness had them 10 minutes late. “You can look around if you want, king.”

“What’d you call me?” His voice was suddenly sharp and awake.

Y/N rolled her eyes so hard that she thought they’d get stuck in the back of her head. “You don’t--ok. It’s a joke. You can call guys here that.”

“And it means that I’m…?”

“It means I’m acknowledging that you exist, I guess. It’s not like it has a strict negative or positive connotation. Like, I can say ‘Ok king’ to any man telling me something and it can either be sarcastic, or it can be because I don’t know what else to say and just want to let him know I heard him.”

Draco’s eyes looked a tad glazed over when Y/N dared a glance in his direction.

“I know it’s confusing. I’m sorry. I’ll try and ease you into the world of American slang.”

He granted her a little “uh-huh” before opening up the glovebox with great difficulty and rummaging through the mess. Y/N would’ve felt more embarrassed about the tampon that fell on the ground in the process if he seemed like he actually knew what it was.

Her attention turned back to the road as Draco continued to sift through things. Y/N couldn’t help but wonder if there was anything embarrassing hidden away in the corners of her car--after all, it hadn’t been organized since the beginning of summer--and decided that it was better to pretend it wasn’t happening.

It wasn’t the eerie silence that eventually prompted her to turn to look his direction--no, it was the weird energy in the car, like the feeling right before a thunderstorm. All the hair raised on her arms, and she shivered...but it was stifling hot in the car.

“Oh, did you find a brush?” she asked. His hair laid as perfectly as always, but his hands were lying shaking in his lap, palms to the sky. No hairbrush was in sight.

“Er... “ He was paler than usual, which was quite the feat for someone who looked like a ream of paper. “No. Just remembered a trick my father taught me.”

She tensed at the mention of his father--the very first time Draco had done so. “Oh. Okay. Glad you got it figured out, king.”

Her voice lightened on the last word, hoping she could coax a little smile out of him.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Ok.”

oOo

There were many things Y/N thought she understood, but Draco Malfoy being in her Physics C class was not one of them. She took pity and sat next to him as he fumbled his way through the first lecture. His notes, while neat, were littered with crossed out portions and question marks.

You do know there’s an eraser on your pencil, right? she jotted on a note that she sent his way. His brow furrowed and he seemed to tap at the end of the eraser for just a few moments before deciding otherwise and xing out another practice problem he’d done incorrectly. Symbols that she’d never seen before were scattered all throughout his notes.

Maybe the UK kids just learn stuff differently.

By the time that Physics came to an end, Y/N was eager to get away from the storm cloud that was brewing over Draco’s perfectly smoothed and infuriatingly pretty moonbeam colored hair. The amount of attention he was getting from all the other girls made Y/N want to jump off a cliff--suddenly everyone was her “best friend” “just wanting to check up on what happened over summer”. She was grateful to see the face of Lizzy, grinning and looking mischievous during their break period.

“You must be Draco,” said the redhead, a glint in her eyes. He looked a little scared.

“Er...yeah.”

“Mind giving us some privacy? Y/N and I have some urgent matters to discuss,” she continued, looking him up and down. Y/N attempted to ignore the twist in her gut as she watched him swallow and nod, turning away to go brood elsewhere. Once he was out of sight, Lizzy grabbed her arm and yanked her into the girl’s bathroom.

“It’s so funny how he’s following you around like a lost puppy,” Lizzy said. “Also, he’s gorgeous. If you don’t at least try to get some of that, then I’m never trusting your judgement again.”

“But, Li-”

“The boy’s a fucking walking Wattpad story cover. Dark, tragic past, unbelievably sharp jawline, rich parents, exotic accent....honestly, Y/N, I don’t know what else you could want.”

“Mom literally called him my host brother,” said Y/N. The bathroom was starting to smell suspiciously like cotton candy. “That’s wrong. On so many levels.”

“But you’re not related!”

“But it’s gross! And predatory! The kid doesn’t even know how to do basic algebra! I’m all he has!”

Lizzy’s eyebrow found its new home in the middle of her forehead. “You’ve gone absolutely batty if you think that every girl cursed with attraction to men in Cincinnati wouldn’t jump his skin at the chance. Use your head, queenie. He’s not alone. Shoot your shot.”

Y/N opened her mouth to serve back a retort--that was definitely there, thank you very much--but decided against it once she realized that the bathroom had become dead silent. “Um...maybe we can go over this later.” She flickered her eyes over to the line behind them that was now intently hanging on their every word. “I forgot I had to talk to the counselor.”

Lizzy was smirking as they exited the bathroom and began the search for Draco. It didn’t take long--the circle comprised of Heather and her friends was more than enough of a giveaway that he was about.

“Draco, sorry to make you wait,” Y/N called out. It took all her effort to abstain from cringing as her voice rang out across the group. Heather turned to send her a big smile.

“Hey Y/N! You didn’t tell me that Draco was from London!”

“He’s not,” she responded. “He’s from Wiltshire.”

“Wiltshire. Of course. That’s what I meant.”

Draco’s smile was tense as he looked down at Heather--who stood roughly 4 inches below him--but he was smiling, and that wasn’t something that Y/N was on the receiving end of frequently. She didn’t know whether to be offended or relieved.

“I’m sure. Break’s almost over, Draco. I can show you where the English department is before the time is up.”

He paused, looking down at the blonde grinning up at him. “Er, actually, Heather already offered to show me around for the rest of the day.”

“Yeah, for sure. I’ll see you in French.”

Y/N was shocked at the sheer amount of jealousy that rose up in her throat as she turned away and made her way to Art History---the only class Y/N and Draco didn’t share. The walk was strange. Being in solitude after having a gloomy British boy attached to her hip was understandably eerie. Because that’s all it was. Adjustment. Nothing else.

She settled in at a table full of her friends, namely Sylvia. The tall girl was always a bit whimsical, but Y/N found that she was a breath of fresh air compared to everyone else. It made sense that Sylvia would take Art History--her dark academic inspired aura and the perpetually hot mug of black coffee just screamed history nut.

“How’s your new brother?” she asked after the teacher had taken attendance. “I say that because I haven’t heard his name yet.”

“Ick, it’s gross to think of him as my brother,” Y/N responded. “And I know! We need to catch up. I’m sorry about not talking to you for a bit. The time difference was a bit weird during your trip.”

“It’s ok, I get it. I was away on family business, anyways. I didn’t expect you to spend your days staying up until the wee hours of the night to tell me all about your exchange student. Anyways. His name?”

“You’re gonna scream when you hear it, Vie,” she said. “Draco Malfoy. It’s so posh. You have no idea. It definitely suits him, though. He’s very...You good?”

Sylvia’s olive toned face looked a bit paler than usual. “Yeah. Yeah, I just remembered that I forgot to take the trash out this morning. I’ll have to text my mom about it.” She adjusted the wool cardigan that hung around her shoulders and came up looking composed. “Draco, huh? His parents must hate him.”

“At the very least! He’s so rude. And uptight. I can’t tell if it’s just a Brit thing or if it’s because he’s an asshole.”

Sylvia laughed. “I mean, when I was there over the summer, it was a different culture for sure. We’re by far louder. But I didn’t meet many mean ones. You must’ve just got a bad apple, then.”

“I guess so. He is pret--”

“Ladies, is there something you’d like to share with the rest of the class?”

“No, Mrs. Jensen,” Sylvia and Y/N said in unison.

oOo

“Thoughts, king?”

“I told you not to call me that.” Draco glared at her as he tried to open the passenger side door to find that it was locked tight. “Unlock? Please?”

“And I told you not to get cozy with ASB kids, yet here we are,” said Y/N as she slotted the key into the lock and turned.

“What’s it to you?”

“Nothing. I’m just looking out for you.” She slammed the door shut and threw her bag in the bag. The line of traffic to get out of the school was long and stuffy, and she was eager to just get it over with.

The wait was so hot that Draco peeled off his stupid formalish jacket that was on thin ice of being called a blazer and probably worth more than her car. Y/N tried to look away as his hair became slightly ruffled, but she couldn’t pry her eyes away. It was endearing, almost, how someone who could look so posh and serious could have ruffly hair--and hair that naturally light, too. She had asked him one night if it was dyed, and he scowled at her and told her the grammatically correct term was dead, and that his hair was alive, just like the rest of him, thank you very much. She dropped it.

Y/N finally rolled down her window after the AC simply refused to satisfy her, and the wind was a nice reminder to keep in her own lane. Draco was beautiful. There was no other way to put it. He had a feel of power to him, like he was capable of anything but just held it back. But he was just as inaccessible as he was pretty, and there was nothing she could do about that.

“Y/N?” He asked after a few moments of sitting in silence. “What’s Homecoming?”

“Who told you about that?”

“Heather. She asked if I had a date. Is that like a ball here?”

“She asked you if you had a date on the first day?”

“Yeah.”

“Fuck. ASB kids never do sleep, huh.”

“What?”

“Homecoming isn’t a ball. It’s like a...an…” Y/N paused as she saw Draco raise his eyebrows. “It’s, like, uh….Well I guess it is like a ball. An American one, though. Way less extravagant. It’s an excuse to get dressed up and run around the city. There technically is a dance, and all the ASB kids have to go, but literally no one else does but the underclassmen. Normally I go out with my friends and a date to somewhere fun and take pictures. And then get trashed afterwards.”

“Classy,” said Draco. “I think you can go now.”

A honk behind her emphasized his point as the space in between her and the car in front widened substantially.

“Thanks. Anyways, it’s not really a big deal. I’d suggest not going with Heather so you can skip out on the dance portion. Or if you want to go with her, get her to come with us into Cincinnati because I am not going to spend my last homecoming watching a grind circle.”

“A...what circle? And I don’t want to go with her.”

The relief Y/N felt was embarrassing. “Um...better if you don’t worry about it. You have a long time to figure it out anyways.”

He seemed satisfied with that answer, propping his elbow up on the center console. The pristine button up he was wearing had ridden up, exposing the pale skin and the bottom of the tattoo she had seen a hint of earlier. “Do you have a date?”

“Um. No, not yet. I don’t think anyone except for couples do yet. We have until the end of this month to figure it out, so I’m not too worried about it.”

He nodded as Y/N’s car finally left the school parking lot and began picking up speed.

“I’m assuming you had balls? At your posh boarding school?”

“Er…” Draco ran his hand through his hair, ruffling it further. “We only had one. It was when I was 14. We called it the Yule Ball.”

“Why only one?”

“It was for a special occasion. We had two other schools join us as well. It was quite a good time.”

“So every student only has one ball in their lifetime?”

“Of course not. Some of us--the ones from old families--have events like that regularly.”

“I’m sorry if this is overstepping my bounds,” began Y/N, noticing how he tensed up, “So you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. But, I’m just wondering, what is your family like?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like are they nice?”

“Oh.” The line in his forehead relaxed. “No. They wouldn’t like you.”

“Glad to hear it,” she said. “Do you like them?”

She heard the breath hitch in his throat. “I don’t know anymore.”

“I’m sure it’s hard to think about it when you feel like they’ve just shipped you off without anyone,” she added. “I’m really sorry, Draco. I know I’ve been a bit mean to you. I know that I’ll never be able to understand what you’re going through right now.”

The slight smile that spread across his face would’ve knocked her to her knees if she wasn’t already sitting down. “It’s okay. I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”

The silence that awaited them for the rest of the journey was comfortable.

oOo

School began to pick up the pace after the first few days. Y/N got into the swing of homework and her extracurricular workload. Draco was having a bit more difficulty, she presumed, but he’d never admit to it. She took pity one evening and gave him her laptop opened to a Khan Academy tab for Physics and was pleased to see that he showed up to class the next day with completed homework. He asked to borrow her laptop on a much more frequent basis after that.

The routine they settled into had her heart leaping into her chest almost constantly--they’d eat breakfast together at the table, Y/N would try to ignore how pretty he looked across the table as they shared a pot of black tea (earl grey, which Y/N was thrilled to learn was his favorite as well), they’d get in the car, she’d write him notes in physics to help him (even though he never asked, he always smile and give a little shake of his head before unfolding them and intently staring at her writing), they’d drive home together and bitch about their French teacher, he’d retire to his room and do whatever pretty blonde Brits do in the afternoon, they’d meet unexpectedly at the same time in the late evening to have a final cup of tea, and then they’d go to bed and do it all over again.

It was difficult for her to admit, but Y/N was falling very quickly for Draco. It was gross, and wrong, and manipulative, and completely against the code of conduct for exchange families, but she couldn’t help but spend her days fantasizing about how his gold-spun hair would feel as she ran her fingers through it or how gently she’d trace her fingers around the tattoo on the soft flesh of his forearm…

But Y/N knew those thoughts weren’t right. And they would go away. Eventually.

“How’s it going?” Sylvia asked, effectively snapping her out of her thoughts. The Art History sub told them to go into independent study, whatever that meant. Y/N was not very good at either of those words.

“Pretty good. I can’t believe it’s been 3 weeks already,” she said. “It’s gonna be Halloween before we know it.”

“I can’t fucking waitttt,” said Sylvia. “I’m gonna be Wednesday Addams.”

“Again?”

“What else would I be? I get a new high collared black dress every year. It’d be a shame if it were going to go to waste. What are you gonna be?”

“One of the thousands of students finishing their UChicago ED app hours before the deadline.”

“You’re kidding. Can’t you just finish it the day before?”

“Where’s the fun in that? And, plus, I don’t have an idea as cool as Wednesday.”

Sylvia smirked as she opened up her planner and began to jot down something. “How’s Draco doing? I haven’t seen much of him lately. It seems like he never hangs out with us at break anymore.”

“Yeah, I ended up getting him connected with the Physics teacher. He’s getting tutored now. He thinks it’s all bullshit, but I don’t want to be the reason he doesn’t get into a good school.”

“Is that all you care about?” She smiled at Y/N. “Lizzy was telling me that you’re interested in him.”

“First of all, keep your voice down. Second of all, I’m not supposed to be, so I’m not.” Y/N hoped that the edge in her voice was convincing enough.

Her friend raised her eyebrows so dramatically that her glasses nearly slipped off her nose. “Y/N, who’s gonna hear about it. You guys are both going away at the end of the year anyways, and I’m sure he’s not going to be writing to his dear mum about his love life. If it’s consensual, there’s nothing wrong with it. I think it’d be good for both of you.”

“I see that, but let’s put me in his shoes right now.” Y/N shuffled in her seat and clasped her hands. “I’m rich. I’m British. I’m very hot. My parents throw extravagant balls for me and I kiss pretty girls that say water like ‘wota’. I’ve spent my life in silk and I only drink the finest teas. My family is so important that I had to be shipped off halfway across the world just to be safe. And now my incredibly expensive life has reached a peak because I’m sleeping with a random girl in Ohio that has run approximately 4 stop signs since I’ve met her.”

“You’re sleeping with Draco?”

Y/N turned to see Lauren, a wide-eyed, obnoxious, but well meaning girl staring at her. She heard Sylvia stifle a laugh behind her. “No. I was kidding.” The smile that she followed with was awkward and showed way too many teeth.

“Oh, okay,” said Lauren. “Do you know if he likes anyone?”

Sylvia’s smirk widened.

“No, actually, he’s a pretty private guy.” Y/N sent her another tense smile, and Lauren finally turned away.

“Jealous, huh?”

“Shut up, Vie. You know I wouldn’t go for him. Even if I had the chance.”

She just raised an eyebrow and smiled.

The afternoon brought its own set of struggles. Their French teacher had blown up at another student who had been caught cheating on their last test, and it was all Y/N could do but hold back her snickers until they were out in the parking lot.

“I can’t believe they still managed to conjugate their cheat sheet wrong.” Y/N was gasping for breath as she unlocked the car door and threw her stuff inside. Draco was watching from the passenger seat, his lips in a soft upturn. “Can you imagine? Oh my god.”

He just shook his head and turned to look out the window, but she could see the smile slowly stretching across his face. “Ridiculous. You could totally tell Monsieur enjoyed it, too. I bet he gets off on making kids like Joey cry.”

“I had a teacher like that,” he started. “He was a Poti-a chemistry teacher.”

“Oh? Did he ever attack you?”

“No. He liked me. Family friends and all.”

“Ah. I almost forgot that your family was rich and influential. Thanks for the reminder.” She reached across and lightly punched his shoulder. His smile, though still remaining, seemed to shrink. “Hey, what’s that in your bag?”

Y/N motioned to the cardstock peeking out of his nondescript black backpack that always seemed to fit more than it was meant to. She could make out a few words written in what looked like a bright red sharpie--something that did not exactly scream Draco Malfoy aesthetic.

He froze up. “Er. It’s from Heather. I think she called it a Homecoming ask?”

Y/N’s throat dried up to the point that no words would willingly make the climb from her diaphragm to her tongue; instead, she settled for giving him a little nod and what she hoped was a convincing smile.

“I told her I’d think about it,” he continued. “I remember you saying that the school dances sucked. So I let her know that I wasn’t sure yet.”

She nodded again. “Super cool. You can do whatever you want, though. You can come with my group if you’d like, but you’re welcome to go with Heather’s.”

“What? So you aren’t coming with me if I go with Heather?”

“Fuck no, dude. I don’t hate her, but I would way prefer to spend a night with my friends than some girl from my French class that only talks to me because she thinks you’re hot.”

The expression Draco made reminded Y/N that he would never get comfortable with American girls calling him hot. “Ok. Have you found a date yet?”

“Chad from Econ asked me yesterday.”

“Is that why my seat was covered in glitter?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you going with him?” Draco’s hand was clenched tight in a fist in his lap.

“I think so,” said Y/N, steeling herself and deciding to just go for it. “But, of course, if you asked me I would say no to Chad. Just out of principle. I am supposed to be your tour guide, after all.”

The only parts of him moving were the few stray wisps of his hair being pushed around by the AC going.

“But that’d be weird. I’d only expect you to take that up if you really didn’t want to go to the dance itself.” She swallowed and pulled out onto the main street, putting distance between them and the school. He was silent for a few moments. The quiet, normally comfortable between them, was stifling and strange. She pretended to ignore the way he was fiddling with his cuffs.

“Yeah, it could be,” was all he said before slumping against the window and closing his eyes.

Mrs. Y/L/N was sitting at the head of the coffee table when the two arrived home, carding between a stack of letters in front of her. The mug of something--probably that new decaf blend she hadn’t stopped raving about--was sitting lopsided on a coaster, just barely about to topple off the edge. She looked like she hadn’t moved for hours, the novel she had been previously reading sat face down to preserve the spot next to her no doubt lukewarm drink.

“Hey Mom,” Y/N said as she set her keys down. “Anything good?”

She looked up, her expression morphing from startled to happy. “Other than the college brochures? Nothing, except...hm, what’s this?”

Her well manicured hand pulled at a crimson envelope, with sloping writing that seemed to shimmer in the light.

To the Y/L/N Family, it read. The loopiness of the writing looked like it wiggled at the ends, but that had to be a trick of the light. It was dim in the kitchen during afternoons, after all.

“It looks cool, open it u--”

“No!”

Draco’s voice had never sounded so loud as it did then as he lunged across the kitchen, snatching it out of her mother’s hand and clutching it to his chest. “Er, it’s for me. I recognize the handwriting.”

“Cool, see you later,” said Y/N. She was up the stairs and slamming her door before either of her housemates could say another word. After the horrible embarrassment that was technically Draco’s rejection, she needed to be alone.

Even burying her face into her pillow and squeezing her eyes shut didn’t keep the scenes from their car ride at bay. She had been so stupid, so stupid. Why did she even think he wanted that? He was her brother, after all. Oh god, does he think we’re all from Alabama or something?

She wallowed for a few more mournful minutes before deciding that she had to pick herself up and handle it like an adult. After all, she was going to be 18 in just a few months. There was no excuse for her to act like a child anymore. And, plus, it wasn’t like she couldn’t just play this off as a pity invite. Yes,that’s what she’d frame this as if he ever asked her about it again. She felt bad for him was all it was.

Once satisfied with her internal dialogue, she rolled out of bed and made for the foyer where her bag was still on the table. She’d first walk on Legos barefoot before she had to let a stupid boy--especially one that didn’t know how to turn on their shower and had to ask for her help every time--come between her and her 4.0. Never.

Her thoughts were cut short, however, when she heard a new sound from his side of the hallway. She froze, listening closely.

Draco was crying.

#draco x reader #draco malfoy x reader #draco imagine #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy #draco #draco x you #draco x y/n #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco lucius malfoy #draco x oc #draco malfoy x oc

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bisluthq · 3 years

Note

Bestie, what wrong with thirsting for him?

There’s nothing wrong with thirsting for ANYONE legal and fantastical. Unless you’re fake picking because you’re gay and closeted you don’t get bonus points for picking a popular choice when you reveal the object of your thirst. (I didn’t know this rule properly because my fake high school celeb crush was Hugh Laurie in House and it meant my first boyfriend took longer to ask me out because he thought I wasn’t into ~boys and in some ways he was right so kudos). But like WHOEVER DOES IT FOR YOU IS OKAY.

There’s a weird tendency in people to knee jerk when they hear someone they don’t understand as attractive is being thirsted over.

Now, look, there are objectively batty choices. If you tell me you’re into the homeless meth head who lives under a bridge near your home because that sense of freedom and the odor just do it for you I won’t think you’re okay.

But if you’re like “billionaire Josh Kushner is hot for me” or even “Putin’s power over the biggest country in the world gets me off” I’m gonna be like “sure” because WHO THE FUCK AM I TO JUDGE?

And maybe this is also my ~gift because I can probably find fucking PATHETIC shit in all your choices. Like I brought up The Rock, I can absolutely DECIMATE bitches who want to fuck him and it won’t even be that hard. Again, I fucking do it to my celeb crushes too - and tended to do it with real people but that’s a thing I’m working on - like I can hate them faaaaaar more than you ever can. But I acknowledge I want to fuck them and move on.

You’re not gonna convince people they’re thirsting wrong. Some bitch out there is probably ringing the doorbell to Bezos as I write this and that disgusts me from both a visual standpoint and most especially an ethical one because FUCK that guy. But were that woman to tell me what gets her off is imagining sucking the dick of the richest man alive I wouldn’t be like “NO IT CANNOT BE” because ehhhh people are allowed to want whatever tbh and your preferences are also weird and embarrassing and like… don’t be a judgy hoe.

Also side note I find it hilarious when Kays say Josh is ugly because Karlie is ~unusual and ~striking right and certainly not a normal pretty girl AT ALL and Josh is GENUINELY THE MOST BLANDLY ABOVE AVERAGE ASHKI JEW I HAVE EVER SET EYES ON. There’s literally nothing to discuss beyond “he doesn’t do it for me and he couldn’t have been a film star” whereas we could discuss the alienness of Karlie - which helped make her career because right lewk right time - for HOURS and just get mad at each other and personally I think she’s very talented and very striking but people who make Klossy into their sex symbol do not get to judge anyone else ever lmfao.

#nat talks general thirst tbh

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justjessame · 3 years

Text

Starting Over Chapter 26

I finished my call with Connie, who was begging for details about just how hot things had gotten between Bucky and me, forcing me to ask her how she’d feel if I pressed her for details about her sex life with Joey.

“What do you want to know?” She asked, clearly settling in for a LONG chat. “Favorite positions? How we have to squeeze it in between games or how we have to smother noises so Bryn doesn’t hear us having fun times and want to see what Mommy and Daddy are doing so she can join in?” I cringed so badly that I felt certain she could FEEL it. “Seriously, Brooke, I’ll share anything you want to know.”

“Yeah, I’m good,” I shook off the idea of Joey naked, a guy who was like a brother to me. “I thought it would nip your curiosity in the bud, weirdo.”

Connie snickered. “Sure,” I could hear her opening a can of something, soda or booze I couldn’t guess. “I have to live through you, Brookie, you’re my single friend who is dating an AVENGER.” I shook my head and rolled my eyes. “Bucky Barnes isn’t just an Avenger, he’s Captain America’s best friend who happens to be over a hundred years old and still looks like he looks. I mean, there are LAYERS of hotness there.”

I couldn’t disagree with her there, so I gave her a few nuggets to keep her from going completely batty. Enough to whet her appetite, but not enough to make me unable to make eye contact when both Bucky and I were in her presence together. After promising to check in with her within REASON, I told her goodbye and got out of the car - grabbing my camera from the trunk and then locking the car before heading down the docks in search of inspiration for my portfolio.

I spent the day capturing life on the docks in a small Louisiana town. Instead of focusing on Sam and Bucky, with a dose of Sarah and her sons, I weaved through the other boats and fishermen snapping shots that caught my eye - the way the light danced off the ripples on the water or the way the men and women worked with purpose but also with a shared love of their jobs. No one posed, even when they took notice of me snapping pictures, they simply took my presence as a normal one. Maybe equating me with Sam’s return and Bucky’s added residency - just one more person to join their group and the camera came along for the ride.

I was sitting on a bench going through the frames as the sun was sinking lower when I felt him join me, his shadow my first warning, but his warmth coming soon after.

“You kept your distance today,” Bucky’s arm found a home along the back of the bench and across my shoulders, the scent of hard work and his musk invading my senses and getting the smile I’d decided was his alone to curl across my lips. “Did you get any good shots?” He leaned closer, our temples touching so he could see the viewer.

“I didn’t do too badly,” I offered, tilting the camera a little so he could see better. “How about you? Is the boat looking good enough to sell?” I moved closer, like a moth to a flame, needing to be closer to him.

He hummed, moving his free hand to help my immobile finger click through my pictures. “It’s getting there.” He paused at a picture I’d taken that had the boats out of focus, but the ripples of the water were perfectly in focus, the light capturing each ripple and you could see the fish just below. “How do you do this?” He sounded so impressed, like he couldn’t imagine anyone being able to do it.

I shrugged. “It’s the same as with the boys and the shield really.” It was, you just had to capture the light at the right moment. “The light has to hit at the right moment, and you have to be in the right spot.” It wasn’t that huge of a deal, almost anyone with a camera and patience could do it. “It does look nice.”

“Nice,” he shook his head and turned to stare into my eyes. “Brooke, you amaze me.” I opened my mouth to tell him if he was shocked by this trick he should see what I could do with a color splash editing, but he didn’t give me a chance, his head dipped and his mouth met mine and anything I planned on saying died as the urge to taste him took over.

Just like when I arrived and we first saw one another at Sarah’s house, everything else fell away and we forgot where we were and that there were other people nearby. When Bucky touched me, when our lips met we forgot the world - but lucky for us Sam was close by and he came to our “rescue”. With a gentle tap on Bucky’s head and a LOUD reminder that we were still on the docks, we managed to pull apart, but it was a close one.

“Y’all are going to end up in jail for indecent exposure,” Sam was smirking, dimple digging deep in one cheek. “I swear to God, I think a few of these folks were using their cell phones to record y’all and no one wants to see that go viral.” My eyes went wide just thinking about Connie getting her eyes on that - Shit. “Yeah, exactly.” He shook his head, but his grin didn’t leave his face. “Might I suggest you head back to your hotel? You know, before someone calls the police, or the dock catches fire?”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “You act like no one down here ever kisses in public,” he stood up and held out his hand to help me up. “I swear, Sam, you’re a prude.” He shook his head. “I expected someone from YOUR time to be more OPEN.” He was staring at Sam like he expected better and that had me biting my lip to hold back my laughter.

“PDA is a fine line to walk, Bucky Barnes,” Sam countered. “A FINE line, and what y’all were doing was crossing the line into the indecent.” Sam shook his head. “Should head to a church and light a candle, that’s what you should be doing.”

“You’re advising that I go to Mass?” Bucky was staring at him like he’d lost his damn mind and I was thinking I was going to end up pissing my pants from this showdown. “Are you even Catholic? Are you sure I am?” He was staring at Sam and I couldn’t look at either of them anymore, or I’d fucking die.

“Pretty sure Brooke is,” Sam tossed out and I snorted, I couldn’t help it, it just slipped out. “See!” Not sure how my snort was proof, even though I AM Catholic, but still. “She is, told you.”

“She snorted at you because you’re crazy,” Bucky sounded like he was about to call the loony bin to have Sam locked up. “Light a candle.” He sighed. “We’ll light candles, alright.” He was still holding my hand, but his fingers were sliding over my knuckles in a way that told me those candles weren’t going to be anywhere near a church. “Candles, a nice hot bubble bath, then bed -” my stomach clenched and a few other places. “And trust me, Sam, if we DO go to church? The priest is gonna need to go to Mass to have someone to confess to afterward.”

We were in the car on the way to the hotel and I was still holding back laughter and I was feeling a little - well to be honest, Bucky set a pretty high fucking bar. It was quiet again, but I had some thoughts to be lost in. Finally I had to let something out, so I went with the giggles from the utter insanity of it all.

“Better?” Bucky asked, once I let out most of the hysterical laughter I’d pent up during his and Sam’s back and forth. I gasped myself back to some sense of calm, and nodded, but then the absurdity of what he had alluded to about what we would be getting into during our alone time started to set in and I wondered if I could even manage that level of - what the fuck was he thinking?!

“The priest is gonna need to confess after is he?” I was fidgeting, wondering what the hell I was getting myself into with this superman?

Bucky chuckled, pulling into the lot of our hotel, but then he realized that I wasn’t joining him and he parked and turned to me. “Brooke?” Seeing my fingers tugging at my shirt hem and fiddling with the seatbelt, he unbuckled it. “What is it?”

“That’s a pretty damn high standard, Buck.” I bit my lip and his thumb met my teeth and traced where I was worrying the skin. “I don’t want to disappoint.”

“Oh, doll, no.” He shook his head and unbuckled his own seatbelt. Pulling me to him, he held me and told me that I couldn’t disappoint him, ever. “You are more than I deserve, more than I can ever hope to deserve.” I was about to argue, but he stopped me. “This is me calming you down, Brooke Ashley,” he reminded me. And I smiled at him. “I may have went a bit overboard in baiting Sam, but what we have - it’s more than I ever expected to ever have with anyone.” His brow was furrowed and he was cupping my face between his hands, holding me as carefully as if I were made of glass. “You and me, Brooke. We could make a priest blush without trying, but if we DID try,” and that did it, I laughed, and his smile came back. Then our lips met and all was right in our world again.

We didn’t need the car horn to stop us this time. We even managed to bring my camera equipment and our phones upstairs with us. We ordered dinner and ate first. We did have a bubble bath, a tight squeeze in that hotel bathtub let me tell you, but then - like he’d taunted Sam, we came together in the hotel bed with enough force and need to make sure that should I choose to mention it during my next confession or Bucky during his - the priest would no doubt want to have a moment with his own confessor.

#bucky barnes/oc #the falcon and the winter soldier #alternate universe #mention of smut #FLUFF AND SMUT #humor

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goldenpinof · 5 years

Text

so basically here’s a script of “Basically I’m gay” by Daniel Howell, if someone needs it

link to a google doc

Hello Internet.

«Sex! Secrecy! And a whole lot of internal screaming. Starring Daniel Howell. One of the greatest mysteries of our generation. What is Dan’s sexuality?»

Spoiler alert. I’m not straight. Sex, the foundation of life and the only thing we’re really supposed to do. Everyone’s obsessed with it. You bunch of degenerates. In the list of things that identify a person, one of the most important for other people to know is their sexuality. For, if sex is the primal force propelling all of these humans forward by their hips, they have to know. Are we gonna fuck? Or like could we? Or are you, ‘cause I’m just wondering. Now, we live in a heteronormative world, which is a long scary word that makes people feel attacked for some reason. Shh it’s okay.

What it means is people are presumed to be straight. If you’re not, then at some point, you have to “come out”, which is a whole thing. Or people might just try and guess based on something you do or the way you act, because yay stereotypes. So this is something you have to be clear on, because if you’re not, how are all these other people that aren’t you going to cope? But I’m pretty sure no one that knows me thinks I’m straight. So I don’t really need to come out as much as just clarify what the hell is going on. As here I am at age 27 and my sexual preference is seemingly still a vague, debatable, confusing, impenetrable mystery. But why? And what is it? Well, those are some big questions. Are you sure you wanna know my answers?

[YES]

Okay, well, if you say so 'cause this is a complicated and sensitive issue and when it comes to me, boy, there is a lot to unpack here and it is a total clusterfuck. So strap yourselves in and let me tell you a queer little story about a boy named Dan.

Chapter 1 – The Word

♪ When I was a young boy ♪

♪ My father ♪

Didn’t have much time for me because my conception was clearly an accident and he was a narcissistic proud man suddenly inconvenienced in the prime of his life and this emotional neglect gave me lasting problems.

Sorry that’s not all relevant right now.

I was an only child for seven years and with working parents. This meant I had to make my own fun so I was imaginative and loud which is something that my teachers used to say quite a lot followed by, “However.” Here I am age five. Look at me. Cute, poised, sassy, turning out this photo shoot like sorry, Grandma, I stunted on this set. Are you seeing this? In almost every way, I literally peaked age five. I loved being the center of attention. People said I had an infectious happiness, that my beaming smile brought them hope and joy. People that know me are laughing right now. But a boy, in the '90s being happy and generally polite acting? Sounds kinda GAY if you ask me. Literally, masculinity was so fragile, people were so proud and scared and society so aggressive that a boy smiling!?.. appearing to be empathetic or in any way emoting was seen as a threat. How dare they laugh and feel comfortable? They must be soft and weak and girly and GAY. So basically thanks, Grandma, for raising me to be a nice child, you dick. Just kidding. That’s a joke and I told you not to watch this video because it would be rude so if you send me a disappointed text telling me you’re offended, I don’t know what to tell you. Although, now I think about it, you did make me go to church for 10 years, which in hindsight probably also didn’t help ♪ Hallelujah ♪ the issue here so. But then it was time for little Dan to go to school and this is when it

♪ All went wrong ♪

'Cause it turns out most children, evil pieces of shit. Doesn’t matter if you try to raise a happy innocent child, throw that kid into school, aka, a literal Mad Max Battle Royale with the feral offspring of your local community. Yeah, that crap’ll be undone in about two weeks. I was six years old running around the playground pretending to be Sonic the Hedgehog or something when two brothers come up to me aged seven and eight with an unexplained aggressive look in their eye. And the younger one pushes me to the ground, kicks me in the stomach, and just says, “GAY.”

This was the first time I ever heard that word. Well, I don’t know what the heck gay means but apparently it means people kick you on the floor so that ain’t good. I didn’t know this child or give them any cause to have an opinion on me. And, actually, I never directly interacted with them again. What epic clustershit of failed parenting and general culture brought this tiny child to get angry and attack someone, then call them gay for looking like they were having fun outside. Are you okay, 1990s? And so my relationship with sexuality began.

I wasn’t looking to define myself as a child indiscriminately playing doctors and nurses with various friends until once somebody’s mum walked into a room to find three fully naked children sat on a bed sticking sellotape to each other’s butts. Yep, which I don’t recommend. Also, Jesus Christ, the poor woman that saw that. Then you get to the magic age around 10 or 11 where everybody suddenly wants to pretend they’re totally a “cool teenager” who’s doing all the drugs and the sex and the fights, totally. Boy, gay was a really popular word back then.

[[Boy] Uh, homework is gay. [Girl] Uh, my mum’s so gay. [Boy] Uh, you touched a girl, gay.]

This one little shit who I won’t name was one of the school bullies and he loved the word gay. He had it in for me and I have no idea why. You know me, Mr. Winnie the Pooh Meets Slender Man. Well, when I was 10 just Winnie the Pooh. I didn’t do nothin’ to no one ever and yet this guy used my pacifism as a punching bag where any group situation was an excuse to single me out call me gay for some reason and then make everyone else exclude me because they were scared of him. I had a girlfriend. We dated for six whole weeks. We kissed in a game of spin the bottle once by literally sucking on each other’s faces. Then she ended dumping me over speakerphone at a birthday party that everyone in my class but me was invited to but, hey. I don’t know what I was doing wrong, but at this age, I understood one thing. Being gay, whatever that meant, was clearly the worst thing you could be. On a Darwinian level, I was being told, okay bitch, “Survival Code”. Don’t be this apparently. Evolution. Plot twist, this bully I think he was a bit gay because once he asked me to have a sleepover at his house and I thought was me finally getting socially accepted only for him in the middle of the night to come up and ask me, “So who’s going to be the boy and the girl?” I was an innocent smol bean who didn’t really understand what he meant because, to be honest, I didn’t actually understand get how babies were made yet. But needless to say I think he was disappointed. Wow, closeted child turns into homophobic bully. Thanks again society. But this whole primary school journey was really just an amuse-bouche for the full six-course tasting menu of suffering that would be secondary school.

I went to an all-boys school. It was a literal hellscape. I thought it was hard making it through a school of 200 kids with two or three bullies. Try over a thousand where a clean 800 are fully psychopathic gorillas fueled by testosterone, Red Bull, and Eminem albums. Making sure that the word f- no longer means an innocent bundle of sticks or a cigarette anymore in the British lexicon. Nope, now it was a cool homophobic slur along with gay, gaylord, gayboy, puff, pufter, ponce, batty, batty boy, bum-boy, bender. Shit, this is so long. People have a lot of words for something they don’t wanna think about. Look at me in this stupid blazer. Oh, “you’ll grow into it at some point in the next four years”. Thanks, Mum. Day one, kid in form class, some stupid hedgehog-looking motherfucker side eyes me and says, “What you lookin at, puff?” First interaction at a new school. Great! My entire existence on a daily basis then becomes navigating this school like I’m in the bloody “Maze Runner” trying to avoid aggressive pricks with chode ties. And you know being verbally abused for being a nerd or a Greebo at least felt relevant to me at the time. Greebo, definitely one of my faves there and I’m sure that Korn and Slipknot would have been proud to have 12-year-old me as a fan. I kinda knew who I was in the hierarchy at that point. I was essentially a theater kid who spent all of his free time playing Runescape on the AOL browser on his mum’s PC instead of football. I accepted it. But at least I wasn’t actually this “gay thing” people kept throwing around because by now I understood a gay is a boy who fancies other boys. And to be honest I don’t really feel like I’ve ever fancied anyone before.

Then puberty happened.

Oh yeah, this is fun, tingly feelings, I smell bad. It was quite fun dribbling on this girl’s face playing Truth or Dare, maybe later we’ll go behind that bike sheds and, there I was sat in English class, my friend next to me. I watched as he delicately removes a pencil from its case. We briefly make eye contact as he flutters his long black eyelashes with a blink before staring forward. His eyes are so bright and beautiful yet they seem so sad and deep with emotion. I wish I could just understand. Oh fuck, I think I’m a bit gay. You’re telling me this whole time I actually have been the bad thing that people keep calling me? Shit!

Chapter 2 – Feelings

Oh do you hear it that faint hum, something coming from a deep, dark place too powerful to control? It’s the self-hatred. She is here and she’s only getting started. Short version, I fall hopelessly in love with a friend of mine who doesn’t feel the same way which crushes me into a million tiny pieces and years later actually it turns out he was gay the whole time. He just really specifically didn’t like me. [Double kill.] Here I am, 13, crying to evanescence alone in my bedroom feeling like there’s no point in really being alive as I’m clearly a faulty outcast person that has no place in the world. I stopped going to church with my grandma because I felt like I wasn’t really supposed to be there. Also, by this age, the whole Christianity thing didn’t really make much sense to me. And the adult services were dry AF compared to coloring in a picture of Jesus’s face at Sunday school. So other than the free tea and biscuits they gave away after the sermon, religion didn’t really have much to offer me. Damn, there was some good biscuits though. I miss that. But wait! All is not lost yet. Do you see that? A triumphant, rallying cry of guitars, stripey hoodies, and black hair dye. Emo had arrived! I swear to God, emo is one of the best things that happened to pop culture in the last 20 years. As well as inventing eyeliner and skinny jeans, a new word hit the theater, nerd, goth, band, kid corner that would change my world forever.

Bisexual. You can be normal and gay at the same time and some people think it’s cool? Well, slap a long fingerless glove on my arm and sign me up to Myspace 'cause Mum, I’m bi. It was a good term 'cause it was a catchall for anyone who felt sexually confused or curious that didn’t want to commit to something stronger which is very me. Big commitment issues. Thanks, fam. To be clear, regardless of whatever the 2006 teenagers thoughts and feelings were, being bi is valid and should not be excused away or erased by anyone. Thank you.

From this moment, I was a loud and proud raving bi to my close friends and the strangers on the internet who saw my clearly-labeled sexual preference on my Myspace page. And the emo friends I made at this time were awesome. We just used to hang and make out with each other and listen to music and drink bottles of Smirnoff Ice until we were sick on each other with no judgment. The judgment came several years later looking back at the photos that you can’t delete. So I didn’t need to tell my family or people at school anything. But the thing is with a Myspace page, anyone with an internet connection can read it. And so the rumors started spreading through my neighborhood that Dan Howell was in fact a bisexual. I had a friend in French class who one day, totally unprompted, just turned to me and said, “Hmm, yeah, I thought so. You give off a bi-vibe.” A bi-vi-, what the fuck is a bi-vibe? Great, yeah, nothing to make a 15-year-old feel self-conscious about his behavior like being told he emanates a bisexual aura. What am I supposed to do with that? Sorry that I give off mixed signals. I’m versatile. Turns out it was actually a social upgrade from being called gay all the time 'cause bisexual was a new word that only referred to sexuality so people actually had to decide how they felt about the fact I was attracted to boys. As opposed to gay which as we all understand is synonymous with bad and also implies a general threat, plague, curse/evil force that simply must be destroyed. People at school were actually almost nice to me with curiosity about it and a few of the boys that previously loved to just generically call me gay while throwing a compasses at me or something, now started to low-key flirt with me and some stuff happened. Go figure.

But then I entered the dark ages and no I’m not talking about my hair because I was never actually cool enough to commit to dying it black. As quickly as they arrived into my life, my emo friend group vanished into the night. Like the tip of an eyeliner pencil snapping or the HTML on your intricately-crafted MySpace page falling apart when the host websites of your embedded gifs die, so, too, did my social life. One had to suddenly focus on school, another moved town, two of them just fell out with each other and started hanging out with their old friends again. Well, we don’t all have back up friend groups, Lindsey! I went all in on the emos! You’re telling me I have to go back to sitting in my kitchen playing Runescape now! Thanks a lot. So for a year I literally had no friends. And this is when the bullying at school really stepped its pussy up. The things people used to say offhand to me in a corridor were now said loudly in classrooms where everybody would laugh. People used to sing songs about me being gay on the bus while my fellow nerds sat around me just stared awkwardly out of the window not wanting to get involved. People shouted things out during GCSE exams in front of the whole school and the low key pushing became punches. People used to wait for me after school just to throw things at me. Once a guy put his hand around my throat and pushed my head against a coat peg in the locker room while everyone was watching and just slapped me for five minutes. But I never reacted. I never cried or got angry or fought back 'cause then I’d be giving them what they wanted and I refused to play along. But this way of dealing with things definitely had an impact on my relationship with emotion going into life. I became a total outcast. No one wanted to come near me out of fear that they’d get targeted, too. So no one ever stood up for me. And, you know, I don’t blame them. I just resent them even to this day. No, I’m kidding, I don’t really. I do. No, I don’t. I, hmm. Teachers at the time obviously did nothing. In fact, one of them saw this happening to me and laughed 'cause you know, boys will be boys especially the gay ones that get killed by the other ones, am I right? Ah, classic lad banter. And home. See, keeping this on the topic of sexuality and not economic class, violence, addiction, and health issues, let’s just say some shit was goin’ down. I didn’t think I could ask my family for help or share my feelings about this, mainly due to my dad. Funny guy, kind of a woke hippie who did and said a lot of things I did respect but at the same time used to walk around the house saying how he hoped someone he had a problem with at work would *clears throat* “die of bum cancer.” Yep, so picked the one area to be a bigot that would further traumatize your child. Nice! This experience coming from a childhood hearing the word gay meaninglessly thrown around as an insult at home and school, in music, on TV, to then realizing I am actually kinda gay, to then very specifically being attacked for it was traumatic. The world was clearly telling me if I ever wanted to be accepted by anyone or, in my particular environment, survive, I couldn’t be gay. I was afraid of it, literally homophobic of myself. I am talking Pavlov, sunken place, North Korea-level mind alteration that made me terrified of and repulsed by this part of me. This is called internalized oppression. It’s a real thing and it’s some real shit.

Chapter 3 – Internalized Oppression

From this moment I was no longer advertising myself as bi. No, BRB deleting that Myspace real quick, xD lemme get on that Bebo. “My Chemical Romance”? No, I’m listen to what’s this, N-Dubz? Jesus Christ. I go away for the summer break and come back to school quiet and serious and fully straight. *coughs* I needed me some new friends that were a bit higher up the social ladder, you know what I’m sayin’ for security so I go ahead and join “The Inbetweeners”. Literally this group of friends, the exact middle ground between nerds and desperately wanting to be cool. And oh how desperate we were. The great thing about these friends was they knew loads of girls. So firstly, instant cool points. Secondly, if I date a girl *scoffs* super not gay. The problem with that was it’s not like everyone just forgot everything that’s been said about me and this group of friends, casually homophobic pretty much all the time and also they hung out in places near some even more aggressive and super homophobic peeps. Just full-time Runescape would have been a better in hindsight. I find myself going through the same shit at school but now voluntarily going through it at the weekends from the people that are supposed to be my friends thinking I’m doing the right thing whilst constantly telling myself I’m now totally heterosexual. So I did what many people choose to do at that point and I got a girlfriend. But this is pretty messed up because I really liked this girl. In fact, I loved her as a friend and I was genuinely attracted to her but I was so afraid of sexuality I didn’t even wanna do anything straight in case I had some weird gay panic that I was totally frigid and I led her on. And when she got pissed at me, understandably, for being a terrible boyfriend, I just felt even worse. This was someone who I liked that I was hurting and lying to but I couldn’t leave as then I’d have no armor. Beautiful irony here is having a girlfriend didn’t in any way stop the abuse 'cause remember, gay is a great all-purpose general insult. (Call someone gay today and we’ll throw in a free set of steak knives.) And when these neighborhood teens started heavy drinking and getting into drugs, things suddenly got quite scary as people joked about setting fire to a tent as I slept in it at Reading Festival. Or saying, “You know that notoriously unstable guy? Yeah, he said he’s gonna kill you next Saturday.” Awkward.

This was definitely the lowest point in my life. I just felt totally alone, confused and I deeply hated myself. I used to ask God, in case he was there, to please, just make me straight and everyone stop. But I saw no end, no escape, no way to change the world or who I was. So one evening I thought fuck it and I attempted suicide.

I say attempted, because just before it was too late I thought

“oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit what have i done what have i done fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck?”

“what will your grandma think don’t do this to her she tried her best and she loves you”

“your family aren’t total dicks and this will fuck them up can’t you just get over it surely”

“you’re gonna get to the last year of school and give up now really what was the point”

“I heard this is one of the most painful ways to die so not a great choice if I’m being blunt”

Felt kinda bad for a few days otherwise I pretended it never happened and I didn’t tell anyone, until now, literally. Hmm, I know pretty dark right, but hey spoiler things kinda worked out. I mean still gotta lot of issues but here I am. I’m so glad I failed for so many reasons, for the people in my life, for the future I would’ve wasted. The most important being that I thought I was trapped in a situation forever when in reality, the entire world I lived in and my life changed completely. I thought it was hopeless when in reality there was so much to hope for and that’s it. Time changes everything. With the lives that we have, we can try anything we’ve dreamed of. I want anyone that’s ever felt like this to realize you are never trapped. There is always hope. You just need to believe in yourself and get to the other side. So yeah school age 6 to 18, I’m gonna give that a bad Google review. The thing is I did stand out. I’ve always been a loudmouth, class clown, annoying shit. Since graduating, it turns out half the people I knew were fuckin’ gay. That group of friends I had, all lovely people now. Five of them were gay, five gays! That is statistically irregular. Oh but they flew under the radar. All I’m saying is I wish people just hated me for being annoying and immature. Leave the gays alone!

My light at the end of the tunnel was university. I was gonna get my A levels move to a new town and ghost these bitches. But I took a gap year first to earn some money which was very boring sitting at home and working at ASDA where I was not happy to help. My shift started at 5 a.m. on a Saturday. Signed up for a Twitter account to run my mouth off and then bam. “So my name is [Dan].” My YouTube story begins, a new chapter of my life to redefine. So you know what I do? Get a Formspring because nothing gives you that attention feeling like one of those anonymous question and answer websites that are inherently toxic and no one should use. And straight out of the bat bisexual Dan returns. 'Cause hey, just like Myspace, I’m only telling a few people on the internet right now. It’s not like one day I’m gonna get so many followers that random strangers and my family might see it. Wow, I had a lot fun with many different kinds of people in 2009. Let’s just say I got a lot out of my system. Got a couple of things in my system, too. Sorry.

And this is when, through the magic of the internet, I met Phil. And obviously we were more than friends but it was more than just romantic. This is someone that genuinely liked me. I trusted them. And for the first time since I was a tiny child, I actually felt safe. And the relationship we formed at that point was something that I needed in my life. We are real best friends, companions through life, like actual soulmates, not that souls are a real thing that exist. It’s so lucky to just find someone you can be that compatible with and especially to anyone that has experienced the kind of self-hatred that I have dealt with, one person accepting you can make all the difference. And I bet so many people wanna know so much more about that which, honestly, I take as a compliment. But here’s the thing. I’m somebody that wants to keep the details of my personal life private. So is Phil. I know lots of people these days, thanks to social media, want to share and monetize every aspect of their life and then as soon as something changes suddenly it’s this huge drama because everybody got invested in the story of your life like it’s a soap opera. I don’t want that. I wanna do certain things without an audience. I wanna be spontaneous. I don’t wanna feel afraid to take risks. I want to enjoy totally fucking something up and not have to post a statement about it. And if anyone thinks people really have to share these things about their life, you need to rethink your position. And look, I understand that sex is a fun and interesting thing to talk about. I get it. I am also a disgusting pervert. But the specific minutiae of who I be fuckin’, when, why, where, how long, how, uhh, I mean? Sexuality is a general fact that it can be very useful to know about a person for several reasons, but we can’t force people to disclose that either. We don’t know this person’s life story, what they’ve been through, if they haven’t told people, if they’ll lose their job, if they’re in danger. There are so many reasons someone might not be open about it. We can preach the message that being out is good, but aggressively speculating or trying to out someone is really bad. They might not be gay, in which case we’re just harassing someone and probably stereotyping. And if they are there’s gonna be a reason why they haven’t talked about it. So I don’t wanna see any responses to me finally talking about this like no one is surprised. “Dan we been knew.” Wow, you huge galaxy brain genius. What’s it like walking around with all those brain cells in there working overtime? What, you got like three in there? Don’t lose your balance, mastermind. I haven’t exactly been subtle have I? I’m an awkward, sexually ambiguous nerd. “What the fuck even is your sexuality?” That’s not the point. I’m already dead inside so it doesn’t matter here, but to me if someone’s reaction to a person coming out is just, “yeah, I knew”, they’re showing no empathy towards the issue or that person. They’re just making it about themselves like it was a fun piece of gossip they already knew. All we have to do is listen and be accepting.

So anyway back to the tale. Whilst things were looking up for Dan aged 18, things quickly got messy again. Wow, that beats the emo streak of temporary self-acceptance by like six months, nice. There was a point around 2011 where the relationship with my audience shifted from what felt like direct communication between me and individuals that just saw me as a comedy creator to communities of people that formed to talk about me when I wasn’t there. Which is fine, but for some people it was about getting generally invested in me and my real life which I thought was a bit strange 'cause inevitably like anyone who puts themself out there, some people started to really dig into my private life to find out information about me that I wasn’t ready to share. And this was around the same time that YouTubers finally started to get mainstream recognition in the British press. We had the BBC knocking at our door trying to offer Dan and Phil a radio show. From that, Dan and Phil became this entertainment duo that we could have a creative career with. And we love working together, so when all these opportunities came for Dan and Phil, we were really excited but I was also scared as people clearly knew I wasn’t straight and I hadn’t told my family that. None of my old friends knew about this, and what me and Phil had was ours and personal and yet some people were trying to get access to it for their own satisfaction. It was no longer a few people on the internet, no big deal. So I just shut down. It felt like I was back at school again, surrounded by threatening people trying to expose me for their entertainment. Most I’m sure just wanted what was best for me and I feel such genuine sadness and am sorry that I couldn’t be closer to and more truthful with the people in my life that were just trying to be nice but I wasn’t ready to deal with it at this time so I had to do something to contain it. I definitely sent some mixed messages. Some were just joking around, others were super defensive that in my panic came across like “I’m now telling everyone I’m totally straight” when all I really meant was “please fuck off and don’t invade my privacy, you creepy stalkers, thank you”. But this experience seriously triggered some PTSD in me and I was back in the dark place. I didn’t want to just disappear from the internet to escape it and throw away this creative hobby that actually started paying rent. Thanks. So I just decided to put anything to do with my sexuality in a box to come back to later as I was still processing my past and I wanted to understand my identity on my own terms and timeline and not just have it hijacked as fuel for people’s sexual fantasies or some headline in an article. And whilst we’re not exactly living in a utopia yet here on YouTube, the general internet culture only five or six years ago was a much less wholesome, progressive place as this little bubble is now. Sure, a lot of people probably would have been supportive, but there was just as much open bigotry and general toxicity 'cause people felt less accountable and it was okay to say certain things 'cause it’s just on the internet and I couldn’t handle that at the time. And, generally, I can handle a lot. I have big hands with a very wide reach for playing piano, you fucking.. get your mind out of the gutter. We can’t ask people to just put their lives on hold to address their sexuality first. If a kid dreams of being a footballer and age 18 gets signed to a club and all their dreams come true but they’re scared to come out because of the insane homophobia in that community, they shouldn’t turn it down. Yes, it’s so important to be truthful about who you are and open and proud in front of the world but it’s our society’s fault that these people are scared to say who they are. So let’s all focus on making it a welcoming place and people will come out when they are ready. So when was I ready? Well, it’s always been on my mind that I need to talk about this at some point. I couldn’t just keep going forward in my life ignoring it, not only just so I can be authentic, which is very important for general existing, but also just letting people know what kind of sexual attention I want from the world. All of it from everyone. God I’m so thirsty. And if anything motivated me, it’s the idea that I can help someone else 'cause that’s basically my whole career, isn’t it, admitting to shit that I’ve been through so you will feel better about yourselves. There we go, you’re welcome. I have a platform and a following of millions of people, many of whom I know have been through exactly what I have. And if I tell my story as painful and flip floppy and flawed as it is, I know it will mean something to someone as every time someone speaks openly about sexuality, it saves lives. I’d never met a single out gay person until I was 18. And if I had, or even just seen better representation in the media, I wouldn’t have felt so totally alone. I wouldn’t even be saying this to you now if it wasn’t for TV shows, musicians, and public figures in the last couple years reinforcing this to me. It doesn’t matter if I was living the life privately as there was still so much confusion about my feelings and fear. But things are better now, on the internet, on TV, in my real life. It’s not perfect but it feels safe enough in this space right now for me to feel confident. So thank you, sincerely, to all the brave people that came before me and to any of you that made this world seem welcoming for me. And instead of procrastinating from this by focusing on work, which was a way for me to insure my own independence and survival in case I was rejected, or just doing things for other people to take my mind off it instead of asserting my own needs, which my therapist keeps telling me is one of my biggest problems. Here I am with a fresh void of time in front of me to fuck up however I want. Now look, we all have different experiences in life. Some of us are lucky, some of us not. It just so happened that the first 18 years of my life were horrendously shit. It failed me. But we get dealt cards from the start, too. If you look at my life, I was born into this world as an able-bodied, white, cis-man in Britain which immediately gives me so much privilege in this current world and I am fully aware of how much harder making it to today could have been for me, which is why we all need to stand up for equality and social justice even if it doesn’t apply to us. No one stood up for me when it mattered the most and that almost cost me everything. So if you see a woman being harassed, a gay being threatened, someone muttering something racist, say something, do something because if you’re still or silent, the victim will just think that you are against them, too. We all have a responsibility.

This tale was just some of the stuff relating to sexuality. We all have a whole sob story if we wanna tell it but I just wanted to explain the journey of how I got to this point and overcame the obstacles that tried to block this path. And now I’ve arrived.

Chapter 4 – Labels

Okay cool story, bro, it’s answer time. What’s your answer. Whaddayalikedafuk? Here’s the thing, you want me to talk candidly about sexuality as if it’s something that I understand? I don’t know what it is, why it is. Turns out no one knows. I’ve been sitting here for years waiting for scientists to just work it out like bleep bloop. [Oh this is why and exactly how it’s different for people. There we go.] Thinking I shouldn’t run off my mouth on the internet in case my theories and opinions on varying gayness get debunked next week. Well, I waited long enough and it didn’t happen. Science, ya fucked up, you let me down. And I fully expect to have to delete this video in two weeks when you find out all the answers suddenly. Thanks a bunch. What makes someone gay or straight or all the things in between? What the ever loving fuck is gender about? This is a mess. Yet people want you to give them a word because that’s how humans communicate with words that have meanings. Which is why our disgusting species is impatient, stupid, and obsessed with labels. And this applies to everything, sexuality, gender, political identity, what obscure genre of synthwave you listen to. People just want a label that represents something they understand so they already know how to feel about you and don’t have to bother thinking. [Oh you’re a feminist well I don’t need to know anything more. Oh you’re a leftist. Oh you’re a K-pop fan but but but but.] If people just want to find a way to disagree with you or dislike you, they can refer to the label and turn off their brains. Hey, what does my label say? Huh. The issue is, especially when we start talking about the writhing mass of confusion and suffering that is sexual and gender identity, the limits of language and specific terminology become a big problem. What does being gay mean? You never thought about a boob once? What does being a man mean? You wanna be an emotionless rock rubbing raw steaks against your biceps? It’s not like humanity is all in agreement right now. I don’t like the stereotypes and drama that come with all this terminology so I’m just not gonna use it. Thing is gender identity isn’t my issue. I feel comfortable with the identity that I’ve had my whole life. Dan, a tol boy from England. But being a man means nothing to me. I wouldn’t feel uncomfortable wearing makeup or a sickening pair of heels, though I can’t even draw in a straight line so that would be a disaster. Also is anyone really comfortable wearing heels? Hmm. Icons of masculinity aren’t really a big part of my life. Might as well call me a fucking formless blob that sounds more relatable. Shout out to all my formless blobs out there, rise up. I don’t have to do anything or be anything and I personally wouldn’t feel offended if I wasn’t referred to as a he. Well, she’s feeling hungry today. Stop fucking judging me, Susan. I’m sad and I’m gonna eat this whole damn cake whether you like it or not. But anyone that has this don’t really care attitude about their gender identity is in a way privileged 'cause some people, especially trans, care a lot about their gender identity and using the correct pronouns which other people should respect. Likewise with sexuality, whilst to me the endlessly increasing list of tribes and flags being flown is a bit daunting and confusing and personally stresses me out 'cause I almost find it constrictive, some people like it. Because if you’re feelings are confusing and then you look at a word that represents something and go, “wow, that me”, it can help you realize you’re valid and find a community and that’s great. There is so much controversy around this issue and others but if we all just calm down, respect each other’s experiences and try to just be nice, reasonable people, which is a lot to ask, let’s be real, it’s quite simple. If you wanna use language to express your honest feelings and identity, that’s great and other people should respect what you say. Likewise, if you hate labels and you just wanna be a formless blob, that’s fine, too. No one should force you. The only thing that isn’t cool is telling other people what they should or should not identify as 'cause that ain’t your problem or your business, bye. This was one of the things that held me back from talking about this for years. Shit’s confusing, man. Let’s just go back to cellular reproduction by mitosis so I don’t really have to be specific. Two people that I really look up to and respect, Harry Styles and Janelle Monae, both famously say that they don’t feel the need to label it which, to be honest, is how I feel and is perfectly okay. But I get it, for me, you want a word. Oh, that’s hard, though. I’m an annoying guy. I feel uncertain specifying my sexuality in the same way I wouldn’t say I am an atheist. Who the fuck am I to say whether God does or doesn’t exist? I don’t know shit 'bout shit and neither does anyone else. I mean I think it’s unlikely in the same way I know I like DICK. But I’m not gonna pretend to have a definite answer here. Looking at my public statements is inconsistent and confusing. Looking at my personal track record through life is super confusing. And looking at the void inside my soul threatening to crush the entire universe with the force of its event horizon of misery and melodrama, well, fuck let’s close that shit up. One thing’s for sure whatever heterosexual is, I ain’t it. Really if you ask me, I don’t think anyone’s totally straight. I think there’s a lot of social and emotional issues getting in the way of yet to be understood feelings of attraction that can be very flexible. And trust me, I’ve known a lot of straight guys until a couple of drinks, some deep conversation, and lingering eye contact, and suddenly they just start leaning in. What does that make them? And am I totally gay? No. Am I slightly more gay or is it just easier for gays to hook up with each other because of societal norms. It’s not like the signs for male and female bathrooms are what I’m attracted to. I don’t care what flesh organ you have between your legs, what your hair’s like, if you’re covered in it or a fuckin’ beluga whale. I’m gonna be honest, I’m not picky. I’m easy. So am I bi or pan or poly? Well, now we’re just in a clusterfuck of defining language and I’m confused and sad and horny. This is why I personally love the word queer. I understand that some people don’t as it is a slur but as someone that’s been the target of it several times throughout my life I’m up for some reclamation. It’s like recycling. The definition makes sense because until society is equal with all sexual and gender identifies, it is literally strange from a conventional viewpoint plus it’s better than a super long acronym, it’s inclusive of everyone and therefore great for formless blobs. There we go, an identity I feel comfortable with. A highly-strung, depressed queer praying for a giant meteor to hurry up and finally eradicate humanity. LMAO, yeet!

But to come full circle, I know that even today, deep in my heart the word gay scares me because that’s how I’ve been conditioned my whole life. So, you know what? Fuck the literal definition and the scientific definition and what everyone thinks. I finally have to just confront and accept this.

I’m gay.

Oh look, didn’t spontaneously fucking combust. Well, there we go, that was a lot of stress about nothing, wasn’t it? Bloody hell. So yup, I’m here, I’m queer, and don’t worry I’m still filled with existential fear.

WE’RE HERE, WE’RE QUEER WE’RE FILLED WITH EXISTENTIAL FEAR.

Chapter 5 – Fear

Even though I’m at this current place, there is still so much I’m afraid of and this has taken months to make because of that. Telling my family was a big fear. I have problems connecting with them emotionally because reasons. So I only came out to them this month and if it didn’t go well, as I’m now the independent adult that I fought so hard to be, I was ready to cut them off like the bottom of a sweater turning into a seasonal crop. But I didn’t have to, love you. I didn’t think they’d reject me these days but coming out is still a surprise. It changes things. And I’m a pretty awkward person generally but the idea of just dropping this in conversation in front of them all terrified me. And I tried several times this year to do it but I just couldn’t. So you know how I finally came out to my family? E-mail. Yep, I literally just sent them an e-mail saying and I quote,

“Hello gang. I’ve been meaning to talk to you all for a while, something quite important that should be disclosed at some point. I thought I would around Christmas, then Mum’s birthday, then last Easter Sunday, etc., but every time I meant to, I either felt like I would ruin the mood of the day or I just felt awkward and didn’t want to. So I decided just to email you all instead which is really inappropriate and just weird but that somehow seems appropriate for me and at least I’ll just finally say it.

Basically I’m gay.”

Yup. It was just getting ridiculous so I thought screw it and hey, it worked. Turns out my remaining family, pretty chill bunch of people. Even my Christian grandma said this,

“We love you for being you. It must be a great relief to finally acknowledge who you are. Popsie and I just want you to be happy. People are born as they are and have no say in it. I hope that now you will feel free to live your life as you want with no pretense.”

Aw.

“Don’t forget the iPad.”

Yes, I said I’d give her my old iPad. She mainly cares about that I thing. Wasn’t so sure when I was 17 but it went well now and I know that makes me lucky but, hey, it shows that times change. As for the other people in my life, obviously all the friends I have now are cool. If anyone in my life I’ve ever known isn’t cool with it then I don’t care. And sure here online there might be a few incredibly lost bigots following me or just some classic trolls who I think should get fucked. No, like literally, I think you should try it. You’ll probably enjoy it and you might learn something about yourself. Inevitably some of you watching this might have a weird reaction if you just feel like it was a shock or you feel hurt that I kept it from you. But I feel like I explained myself reasonably here and going forward I can’t have any space for that, sorry. I’ve come to terms with who I am and now you have to, too, ha. Funnily enough straight up homophobia is probably the one thing I’m not that afraid of, because I just don’t agree so it doesn’t hold much emotional power over me but you bet I’m opening myself up to all new kinds of in real life and international discrimination now which is fun. But one of the other big fears holding me back was, honestly, that I wouldn’t be accepted by the community. I know that it’s a big pride flag covering a lot of ground and even the idea of it and certainly most of it is amazing. But there is a lot of drama within it right now especially on the internet. You’ve got Grindr gays arguing about how manly gays should be, bi’s getting ignored, trans people, especially of color, not being historically appreciated, acephobia, fucking SWERFs and TERFs. No thank you. So even though they are my people, I know some of them will have problems with something. And even then, just seeing such a loud and proud, strong and opinionated group of people celebrating something just intimidates a smol introvert such as myself. And in my mind if these people don’t accept me because I’m not being definitive enough or I took too long then I almost feel like I’ll be alone all over again, and this is a fear that a lot of people have honestly. But I’m a nice guy and I’m trying my best so you better be welcoming, you bunch of fuckin’ queers. And obviously with the topic of sexuality, it doesn’t matter where we are or how far you think we’ve come, by merely mentioning it, I will be opening up a primordial box of bullshit which will include every single stupid argument and question since the dawn of time. [It’s not natural.] There’s gay animals. [Adam and Steve.] That’s based on a story and the protagonist that arrives later probably doesn’t agree with you. [Why can’t we have straight pride?] I could spend 10 hours on all the classic crap and people would still be asking the same things. This being posted on the internet, my hopes are so incredibly low, lower than my self-esteem. Wow, that is unhealthy. I need to stop doing that. This video is about internalized oppression and the problems of language. I’m not here to pontificate on every topic tangentially related to the entire concept of gayness. *ASMR voice*: Pontificate on every topic tangentially related to the concept of gayness.

There’s other humans and all the time in the world left for that. The time in the world coincidentally being not much longer. Climate change LMAO. But I had to tell my story so people would understand me and these things. Why coming out is still a big deal because queer people are often invisible and suffering until they have to do it. Some people grow up in supportive environments and it’s a positive experience. But more likely, especially around the world outside of the big cities, it isn’t. This is not a fight that is anywhere near over. Even in Britain today people are debating whether children should be taught to be accepting of sexual and gender identity in school.

Queer people exist. Choosing not to accept them is not an option.

To anyone watching this that isn’t out, it’s okay. You’re okay. You were born this way, it’s right, and anyone that has a problem with it is wrong. Based on your circumstance, you might not feel ready to tell people yet or that it’s safe and that’s fine, too. Just know that living your truth, with pride, is the way to be happy. You are valid. It gets so much better. And the future is clear. It’s pretty queer.

So there we go. Now I can proceed authentically in my life with full disclosure. Cute mutuals know to slide into the DMs. And you can all fuck off and leave me alone.

Bye.

#basically i'm gay #daniel howell #danielhowell #dan and phil #amazingphil #phil lester #yes im tagging i dont care #if there's a flaw somewhere (like a missed part or sm) dm me so i could fix it #id go through it again anyway but just in case #oh and it's literally just dan's substitles so all credits to him or whoever did that #hmm i wonder if they hired someone. interesting #have fun #the script

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thegeminisage · 4 years

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sorry but i have been thinking about this for ages and it’s time 2 get it off my chest

kind of wild to be a gamer & a lady & engaging in fandom in 2020 because in my social circles/life in general there is a HUUUGE disconnect (long post goes behind a cut)

growing up, Games Were Only For Boys. my first interactions with games in a sense where i was actually engaging with the story of them did not involve me at the controller, it involved me watching my brother play

in my late teens and early adulthood up til now, Fandom And Especially Fan Fiction Is For Women - obviously there are exceptions to this, but in this post i am speaking in a very broad, general, stereotyped sense

which is wild because when i began writing fanfiction (for video games, in 2003) there were a LOT of guys who also wrote fanfiction that usually just involved action/adventure plots and little to no romance and i think that stopped because the stigma of fanfiction is that it’s romance/erotica aimed towards the ladies

the Fandom That’s For Women is very very VERY focused on shipping, romance, and sex

games, especially story-heavy games, can often also be full of sex shoved in your face - but that’s sex aimed at men, not women - women in skimpy outfits, jiggly boob physics, etc

true irony is that nowadays in fandom if you DON’T write the slash or you ship m/f characters you’re more likely to get hate for being homophobic or whatever but in 2006 when i was writing fma and ff6 slash i got shit on ALL THE TIME for publishing “that gay shit” and while i’m well aware slash as it exists today existed also way before 2003-2006 i wasn’t in those spaces i was in video game spaces and They Were For Men

so if you’re not in the engaging in fandom in the Stereotypical Dude Way (no gays, only boobs & violence against women, fanfic is stupid) or the Stereotypical Lady Way (ship everyone with everyone, romance is the focus, obligatory sex scenes) you can like sometimes find this section of fandom (SOMETIMES) that’s like...all gen only gen 110% of the time ONLY wholesome content ONLY fluff canon romances get a pass but nothing else and it’s like you’d write your mom and dad, not like, Romantic, it’s innocent in an almost childlike way, because there is also the stereotype that games are Only For Children

which is fine but it’s like...a lil boring...sometimes...not that i don’t have my “gen and fluff ONLY” days/fandoms because we do get tired of pointless sex & romance - i also definitely have my “oh they are ALL fuckin” days/fandoms...experiences are fluid...

anyway much more women play games and engage in fandoms for games now & thats dope as hell but for me personally there’s still this weird disconnect of like...i want to enjoy fandom (maybe especially game fandom bc fandoms for games are almost always very small) in a way that’s adult and explores the depth of the stories available to us but i don’t want to do it in a “obligatory bikini-clad woman and blood & guts scene” way or a “obligatory sex scene & everybody’s shipped with everybody” way either so like......idk. i’m not wording this very well i don’t think

i guess i miss how game fandom was in the early/mid 00s...despite the sexism and homophobia and etc...obviously all that is bad

but i think it’s harder these days to find good solid adventure/action fics these days ESPECIALLY for video games

bc 1. most men don’t typically write fanfiction anymore and they are less likely to write romance 2. there’s this unspoken pressure that if you ARE writing fanfiction they Gotta smooch (or do more than smooch) & if you don’t stick it in there your fic falls anywhere on a scale of “boring” to “problematic” - there’s a huge focus on romance especially between same-sex characters - and i think PART of it is because we staaaarving for seeing those sorts of relationships written BY women and queer people in proper mainstream media which is valid but also partly that it’s a self-fulfilling prophecy - everybody thinks fanfic is for romance so it continues to be about romance

i just want like a middle ground...is that too much to ask...especially in game fandoms...

ok for an example...ff13 is the WORST offender re: fandom stuff

what little fic there is is like focused on shipping fang/vanille which i dont like bc i see her as fang’s lil sister or hope/lightning or hope/snow which is like ?!?!?! because he’s like 14 or hope/noel because they’re literally the only 2 dudes who are in their early 20s and romantically available even though they BARELY speak to one another...like half the appeal of 13 to me was the very limited romance and YEAH i love me some fang/lightning but where’s the gen?! there isn’t any because gen’s too boring!!! men would write gen but they don’t write fanfiction!!! (or there would be needless sexualizing of/violence against women. i’m not going to sit here and say i actively want to read stuff written by men more than i want to read stuff written by women when i know that’s usually how that goes lol) and when you do find gen it’s like...VERY wholesome and thats great sometimes i have written that tooth-rotting fluff but ff13 is a dark game that deals with dark stuff sometimes... you see what i mean??

anyway. drives me batty

and it’s wild too that the PEOPLE in my life who engage with fandom all distinctly fit into Guy Fandom or Girl Fandom or Gen Only Fandom...i rarely ever see crossovers...my brother is the first most of my friends from tumblr are the second and a lot of people i met thru undertale are the third...Girl Fandom does not engage in game fandom much, most of game fandom is Gen Only Fandom or Guy Fandom...but i want the lessened romance/sex of Gen Only and Guy Fandom, the adultness of Guy Fandom and Girl Fandom, and the “please stop objectifying and victimizing women” of Girl Fandom and Gen Only Fandom...HOW do i get this...i don’t...i can’t...Gen Only Fandom tends to stay so far away from heavier darker stuff too and i like my heavy shit...it’s a Problem...

again there are obvious exceptions to these generalizations...these are just personal observations...nobody send me mean anons...i just had to get that out there

this isn’t very well worded if you made it to the bottom thank you for indulging me

#personal #this is a dumb post #no one understands me!!!!!!!! i'm just out here #a lonely gamer #caught in the middle of everything #:(((

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anubislover · 4 years

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“A Heart to Be Used as Needed” Chapter 3

A month of torture. That was the only way Law could describe the wedding planning. His blood pressure was through the roof, sleep was harder to come by than usual, and he was beyond pent-up. After thirty-one days of reigning in Doflamingo’s extravagant suggestions, enduring his boss’ intense scrutiny, and ignoring the far-from-subtle mocking from his colleagues—all without his usual outlets for stress—it was a miracle he hadn’t just abandoned his ten-year plan and attempted to tear out Joker’s heart with his bare hands.

He could live without sex, but with the additional strain the wedding brought on, he barely had time for his experiments or even senseless violence to let off some steam. Joker might not have banned them, but it seemed he was determined to make sure he was too busy to get in any form of relaxation. People called Law sadistic, but clearly, he’d learned it all from the best.

Sanity close to snapping like a stale breadstick, he nearly called off the engagement by week two, but Baby 5 had inadvertently persuaded him otherwise.

Body parts spun in the air like windmills as Law sheathed Kikoku, a sadistic grin adorning his face when they fell to the ground, landing in a neat little stack on his laboratory floor. Baby 5’s head plopped on top of her arms, rocking unsteadily for a brief moment before rolling down the bloodless pile, across the floor, before finally being halted by his boot.

It might not have been as viscerally satisfying as tearing into a helpless victim with his scalpel and hearing them scream as the blood painted the walls, but it was far less messy and almost as effective at lightening his mood.

“Thank you, Baby-ya,” he cooed down at his decapitated bride-to-be. She’d been doing her best not to tempt him, believing his month of abstinence was his way of displaying his devotion to her, but still regularly visited his lab to drop off coffee and receive his approval on all the little wedding details she and Doflamingo had been obsessing over. She’d come down to ask him some inane question about the ceremony, but upon seeing how tired and stressed he was—not to mention how close he was to murdering someone—she’d immediately offered to let him cut her to pieces if he needed an outlet. The words had barely left her lips before she was engulfed in a blue aura, and the past ten minutes had seen her vivisected and put back together in nearly a dozen different ways.

Blinking away the dizziness, she weakly smiled up at him despite her obvious discomfort. Even if his Room made amputation painless, it was far from a pleasant experience. “I’m just glad I could be useful to you.”

“Of course you are. Now, you had a question for me?” he asked, gently picking up her head from the floor. She was such a considerate thing, sacrificing herself to suit his needs like that. It really did bode well for their marriage.

“I wanted to know if you think we should we use our real names in our vows,” she replied, eyes sparkling at the thought of their wedding day.

He stiffened. He’d nearly forgotten that she knew his true name. If she dared utter that fateful D. in front of Doflamingo, Law was a dead man. Forcing a smile and dropping a chaste kiss to her brow, he replied smoothly, “No. I trusted my name only to you and Buffalo, and that’s how it’ll stay. And I like the idea of being the only one who knows your real name; a romantic little secret between husband and wife.”

Somehow, her eyes sparkled even more at the prospect. “Whatever you want, darling!”

From then on, even though it drove him batty, Law’d made sure to be as involved with the wedding planning as possible. He didn’t fear Baby 5 accidentally revealing his name, but it was a strange and sudden understanding that she unknowingly had a small amount of power over him, and it was in his best interest to fully convert her to his side. Otherwise, she could be a dangerous liability.

So, the Surgeon of Death endured the hours of flower arrangements and napkin selections, all for the sake of keeping his bride happy and in check. In turn, she allowed him to cut her apart any time he needed, and as the wedding date grew closer, Law felt more secure in his decision to make her a part of his scheme. It turned out she had uses beyond her sexy body and Buki Buki no Mi. He’d taken to asking about her day and quickly discovered that she was far more observant than he’d given her credit for; she knew everyone in the Family’s likes, dislikes, schedules, quirks, and even a few of their secrets. To many, she was practically invisible, able to listen in on conversations, and her presence at any particular time was hardly questioned, as it was her job to clean the whole castle. She’d make a fantastic spy, and her happiness that Law was willing to listen made her eagerly spill some lovely tidbits about Sugar and Pica that he had every intention of exploiting.

At last the big day came and Law was able to breathe a sigh of relief. The ceremony had been opulent but thankfully not the multi-day festival and gladiator tournament that Joker had originally proposed. Sugar made an admittedly adorable flower girl, though Law wasn’t sure he wanted to know who the toy soldier acting as ring bearer had been. Doflamingo walked the bride down the aisle, and even the Surgeon of Death could admit Baby 5 looked so blissfully happy it was hard not to be a little pleased with himself that he’d made her dream come true.

Especially since it brought him one step closer to his own.

The reception had been a true test of his patience and resolve. Joker had thankfully come through on his promise that there would be no bread during dinner, but it was only a small comfort in the nearly five hours of off-color speeches, too-loud music, mocking calls for the new couple to kiss or dance, and just generally being trapped in a room full of the people he hated the most. It all served as a sour reminder that if the World Government hadn’t poisoned his city and murdered his family, he likely never would have become a pirate and his wedding day might have been worth celebrating.

Still, Law endured it all with a charming smirk, laughing off Buffalo’s embarrassing Best Man toast and playing his part as the contented groom. The woman pressed to his side made it all slightly more bearable, acting as a constant reminder of the delicious prize he’d finally claim at the end of the night. Though the poufy ballgown Baby 5 had chosen prevented him from teasing her under the table like he wished, making her shiver by lightly brushing her bare arms and the back of her slender neck had provided a suitable enough alternative.

It was nearly midnight when, after the cake cutting and bouquet and garter toss, Doflamingo finally elbowed him in the ribs. “Go. You held up your end of the deal, and I can tell you’re ready to pop,” he sniggered. For the former World Noble, the whole affair couldn’t have gone better. His Corazon was even more firmly entangled in his twisted family web, his deadly maid wouldn’t stupidly run away with the next guy who proposed, and in a few years he’d have another genius child he could mold to take Law’s place after he got his eternal youth surgery. “Just don’t break the poor girl. She’s still got an important part to play, after all.”

The words were barely out of his boss’ mouth before Law activated his Room, teleporting himself and Baby 5 out of the ballroom and into his quarters. The hated feathered coat was spitefully tossed into a lonely corner of the room as he pounced on his long-awaited prize.

Amethyst eyes blinked in surprise; she’d been talking to Violet mere seconds ago, and now they were upstairs? Shouldn’t they have said goodbye to their guests? “Wha—”

Law cut her off with a fierce, aggressive kiss, pushing his tongue into her mouth and savagely claiming the spoils of victory. He knew it was nothing like the soft, chaste peck he’d given her at the altar, but he refused to hold back now that he finally had the chance to indulge.

It was time for Baby 5 to discover what she’d really signed up for when she’d agreed to be the Surgeon of Death’s wife.

Still, when her tongue tentatively attempted to dance with his, he forced himself to slow down. This was not some whore he could satiate himself with and discard, but a valuable asset. He had to break her in carefully if he wanted her blind loyalty, and it was better to take his time and teach her how to please him, since she’d be doing it the rest of her life.

Besides, Law’d waited years to get his hands on the tempting little maid. No matter how ravenous he was, this was a night meant to be savored.

So, he pulled away to allow them both air, giving a lopsided smile as he loosened his tie and shrugged off the tuxedo jacket. “Sorry. I just couldn’t help myself. I’ve been wanting to kiss you like that for too long.”

“I understand, darling,” she said, cheeks flushed scarlet and lips already deliciously swollen. “I…I want to make you happy, so kiss me however you need.”

“‘However I need’, huh?” he taunted, trapping her against the wall. “That’s a dangerous thing to say to a man, Baby-ya. I’m beginning to see why Joker was so protective of you.” Leaning in, he bypassed her mouth to kiss along her jaw, nipping and sucking a hot trail to her ear. “You’re aware that I’m a man who has a lot of ‘needs’, aren’t you?”

“Of…of course! That’s why we’re perfect for each other!” she gasped as he wrapped his lips around the sensitive lobe. “I’m happy to attend to each and every one!”

A low chuckle rumbled like distant thunder as his tongue played with a delicate pearl earring. Releasing her flesh with a wet pop, he purred, “Of course you are. A good girl like you would do anything to please her husband, wouldn’t you?”

The shudder that rocked through her body and the way her breath staggered were highly amusing. Law’d both tortured and entertained himself planning out exactly how he’d defile her on their wedding night; imagining what he’d say and do to grant or deny her pleasure. It had become increasingly clear to him that she had a praise kink—which he intended to exploit all night long—but he was eager to see what other urges and weaknesses he could play with.

“Get undressed, Baby-ya,” he ordered, voice barely more than a growl as he pushed away so he could observe her properly, unbuttoning his shirt as he did so. Bit by bit, his dark skin and black, heart-shaped tattoos were exposed, and he preened at how his bride’s violet eyes were locked onto his lean muscles.

“Do…do you want me to undress completely?” she asked shyly. Nervous, she fiddled with the full skirt of her dress, though she couldn’t pull her gaze away from her husband’s chest as Law carefully stripped off his tie and shirt. She’d seen the bold, swirling tattoos plenty of times, but watching him peel away the soft linen in the intimate setting of his bedroom—their bedroom, and just for her—sent a jarring surge of liquid fire between her legs. “Or just to my underwear?”

A dark blue eyebrow lifted curiously, and Baby 5 continued, “I was given some special wedding lingerie and I was told you…might want to see me in it.”

Intrigued, a wicked smirk stretched across Law’s narrow face. He’d caught a glimpse of white lace and thigh-high stockings during the garter toss but hadn’t allowed himself to linger lest his already-straining control snap. “In that case, take off your dress and give me a little show. Let me see what naughty secret you’ve been hiding under that innocent gown all day.” Licking his lips, he added, “Oh, but leave the veil on.”

Obediently she nodded, reaching behind her back to unzip the fluffy white dress, letting it fall to the floor like a pile of snow. Law had to take a moment to stare at the ensemble underneath; whoever had dressed her had gone all-out with the lingerie. From the sheer, white lace corset to the matching stockings, garters, and panties that barely covered more than the essentials, she looked like a pin-up. The contrast of the pure color with such slutty scraps of clothing more than did its job turning him on. On top of that, each piece was adorned with little white bows, making her look like a present all wrapped up for him. Leading her further into the room where he could get a better look at her, he twirled his finger in a silent demand to turn around so he could appreciate the back. Blood instantly shot down to his cock when he saw the back of her panties had a heart cut-out right across the cheeks, another sweet little bow sewn daintily above it.

His brain quickly pushed aside any inquiries regarding who gifted her such a naughty ensemble. None of the options were particularly palatable, and the most likely one threatened to turn his mood from lust to loathing.

Instead, he wrapped his tattooed hands around her pale waist, yanking her towards him and grinding his already half-hard length against her pert ass.

“You look so fucking gorgeous.”

Her reply was adorably bashful. “Thank you,” she mumbled, head ducking to hide the blush that spread across her cheeks.

Oh, she was just precious. Such a sweet, innocent lamb, despite her impressive kill count and allegiance to one of the most vicious pirates on the Grand Line. A better man might even hesitate to strip her of her remaining virtue, but not him.

Innocence never lasted long around Trafalgar Law.

Sweeping aside her hair, he leaned down to nibble the sensitive shell of her ear. “Don’t be shy; you’re my wife, now. If there’s anyone you shouldn’t feel ashamed to show off your sexy body to, it’s me.” Dropping a kiss to her bare shoulder, he rasped, “In fact, you should wear this for me all the time.”

“But it’s wedding lingerie…”

“Who cares?” he asked, left hand sliding down to pry her legs apart. The sweet heat between her thighs urged him to wiggle his fingers beneath the fabric of her panties and delve inside but he held off, settling for just cupping her gently, gratified when she instinctively bucked against his palm. Carefully, he shifted their bodies so they faced the full-length mirror. His cock felt wonderful cradled against the soft meat of her ass, but he wanted to see her face as he played with her for the first time. “You look sexy as hell, and it turns me on. If I want you to wear it, you’ll wear it.”

“Yes, darling.”

“That’s a good girl,” he replied, chuckling as he felt her clench around his hand at his words. In the reflection he could see her cheeks flush further, and he briefly wondered if she might pass out. As a precaution, he wrapped her arms up and around his neck, with the added bonus that he now had full access to her luscious curves. “From the moment you kissed me, you agreed to be mine,” he purred, eyes locking onto hers in the mirror. Both his hands roamed her body, grasping and massaging the tender flesh hidden by intricate lace as he rolled his erection against her firm rump. “I’m curious if you even know what that means.”

“Of course I do!” she squeaked as his blazing palms squeezed her full breasts. She noted in the mirror how nicely his tan skin contrasted with her ivory tone, like coffee and cream. Further proof in her mind that they were perfect for each other. “I’ve read Giolla’s romance novels, and the girls…clarified some things for me during the bachelorette party.”

“Did they? Well, wasn’t that nice of them?” he chuckled as he teasingly traced the tips of his fingers along the lacy edge of the bustier. He doubted any of them had truly prepared her for what she was in for—the debauchery that took place in Trafalgar Law’s bedroom wasn’t easily put into words, after all.

A curious, devious thought entered his mind, and he whispered, “Did you fantasize about me, Baby-ya? Imagine all the sexy, naughty things I’d do to you now that we’re married? How I’d touch you and fuck you?”

“I…maybe a little…”

“Did you touch yourself while you thought about me?”

“N-no…”

Gold eyes narrowed, mildly insulted. He’d filled the wet dreams of men and women for years, but his bride hadn’t even pleasured herself while she imagined him fucking her? He harshly pinched her nipples as a reprimand. “Why not?”

Whimpering, her hips bucked in response to his rough treatment. It hurt, yet sent delicious sparks crackling trough her. “Because my body belongs to you! It’d be selfish to touch myself, especially when you weren’t allowed to!” Embarrassed, white teeth worried her bottom lip before she confessed, “And…and it wasn’t enough. E-even when I touched my clit, nothing felt as good as what you would do…”

A hot swell of lust shot straight down to Law’s cock. He found he liked the idea that a small, teasing touch from him could get her wetter than masturbation, and he knew he needed to get started immediately. “Stay right there, Baby-ya,” he rasped with a final sharp nip to the top of her ear, smirking as he felt the full-bodied shiver that ran through her at the promise in his voice.

Reluctantly prying himself from her warm body, he headed over to his desk and fished a small vial from the top drawer. It was filled with a red, viscous fluid that he swiftly chugged down, scowling at the bitter aftertaste. It was a solution he’d developed years ago that acted as a male birth control, leaving his seed infertile, though it wouldn’t diminish his performance—in fact, it reduced his recovery time to nearly half. Satisfied that he wouldn’t have to worry about producing the heir Doflamingo wanted while still getting to fuck his woman as much as he desired, Law discarded his shoes, socks, and belt before turning back to his wife, who had obediently stayed put.

“Given how…inexperienced you are, we both agree that I should take the lead on this, yes?” he asked rhetorically. Law wasn’t the kind of man who relinquished control, especially in the bedroom.

Coyly looking at him over her shoulder, the maid nodded her head. “I’ll do whatever it takes to please you, darling.” Biting her lip, she added, “Use me however you need.”

He hadn’t been looking for permission, but he certainly wasn’t going to refuse it. Prowling towards her like a ravenous leopard, Law spun her around, grabbed her hair and yanked her head back. With a feral smile, he dragged his tongue up her throat to just below her ear where he purred, “I’m going to fuck you all night long, sweetheart. I’ve got exceptional stamina, and I haven’t been satisfied in over a month thanks to you. So, get ready to be used thoroughly.”

Without waiting for a reply, he once more claimed her lips, this time taking a moment to appreciate them despite his hunger. They were smooth as the skin of a plum, softer than down pillows, and so deliciously pliant beneath his own. Prying them apart, he delved past to coax her tongue to dance with his; teaching her how sensitive the inside of her mouth was with every stroke and twirl. She gave a muffled mewl when he lightly brushed the top of her mouth with the very tip of his tongue, tickling her palette before pulling back to give her bottom lip a harsh nip.

“Ready for me to show you the kind of ideas you put in my head?” he rasped, running the pad of his thumb across the bite.

In leu of an answer she eagerly took his hand, wrapping her mouth around his thumb and sucking eagerly, just like in the lab. Smirking, he let her lavish his thumb with attention, piercing eyes never leaving hers as she licked and suckled, excited to see that hot, hungry look he’d given her in the garden again. The past month had been filled with wet dreams about the heady promise in his honey eyes, and now that they were finally married, Baby 5 was desperate to discover what his veiled words had meant.

With a chuckle, Law reluctantly pulled his hand back. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes,’ but didn’t I say that was one of my tamer thoughts? There’s a better place I want you to put that mouth.”

“Just tell me where, darling.”

“Get on your knees.”

Instantly she obeyed, the hard sound of the boney joints smacking down on the marble floor echoing through the room. Baby 5 hardly seemed to notice, though, as she realized her current position brought her eye-level with his crotch, cheeks flaming at the bulge straining against his dress pants.

Carefully combing back her hair so he could fully see her pretty face, he said, “I’m sure someone explained to you what’s expected of a loving wife when she’s in this position?”

Swallowing, she nodded, blunt, white teeth worrying her lip. “I’ve read about it in books and…Monet told me what to do. She said she’s…sucked you off, before.”

“Yeah, she has. Several times, actually. She was so jealous when she found out you’d be taking that honor from her.” Tilting her chin up to meet his eyes, the Dark Doctor smirked. “She tried to talk me out of marrying you; said you’d never satisfy me like she could.”

Baby 5’s eyes widened, then narrowed in jealous rage, flames igniting within the violet orbs as she snarled, “I’ll kill her!”

“Mmmm, maybe later. Right now, I think you should focus on proving her wrong.” Threading his long fingers through her hair carefully so as to not dislodge the lacy veil, he tugged her face closer to his erection. “Show me you can do better than her. That you deserve to be my wife. Start by unzipping me.”

Determined to outdo the imagined rival for her husband’s affections, Baby 5 studied his pants like a general making a battle plan. The light caught his metal zipper, and she suddenly recalled something Violet had told her about during the bachelorette party. Something she often did to drive Doffy wild whenever she was called to his chambers.

As carefully as she might handle the palace’s best china, Baby 5 grasped the little metal tab between her teeth, tugging down slowly. Her amethyst eyes remained locked on his as each tooth of the zipper unlatched with a gentle click, until his trousers were gaping open and her nose brushed against the soft fabric of his boxer-briefs. She kissed up the covered bulge until she reached the waistband, trailing her fingers lightly along his abdominal muscles before hooking them inside the elastic, pulling the cotton down to at last release his straining erection.

Law’s breath came out a little harsher at the show she put on. “Very good; Monet never did it like that. Such a smart, sexy wife I have.”

Eyes lighting up at his praise, she gently wrapped her hand around his fully-erect length, though her heart sped up as she finally got a good look at it. The books she’d snuck from Giolla’s room had always described a man’s equipment as being absurdly long, but Law’s, though intimidating, seemed far more manageable in comparison. About seven inches long and over an inch and a half thick, it felt like a steel rod covered in silk. The Corazon was usually such a cold man, but his shaft radiated heat against her palm, and she swore she could feel the blood pulsing through the thick veins. Giving it an experimental stroke, she blushed at Law’s pleased grunt in response. Confidence rising, she leaned in to take him in her mouth, but just as she was about to wrap her ruby lips around the mushroomed tip, she paused.

“Why are you hesitating?” He barely managed to suppress a growl, hand tightening in her hair. Law was a patient man, but at this point, he was far too on edge to appreciate any teasing when he was so close to finally getting sweet relief. She’d better have a good explanation; otherwise he’d cut off her head and literally fuck her throat.

Baby 5’s shoulders tensed at his tone and she averted her eyes in submission. “It’s just…if she didn’t want you to marry me, I’m worried Monet might have taught me the wrong way to do this. You know, as sabotage so you’d go back to her.”

Law grinned, mood instantly lightening. Of course the harpy would be the first to inadvertently damage Baby 5’s unquestioning trust in the Family. Jealousy was so easy to manipulate in his favor. “Aren’t you just the cleverest little thing? She probably at least threw in a few nuggets of bad advice in hopes of making me regret choosing you.” Rocking his hips forward, he brushed the leaking tip against her bottom lip, smearing a dollop of precum across the seam of her mouth. “I guess it’s a good thing you practiced on my thumb. Start like that, and I’ll tell you what else to do.”

Relief that she hadn’t made him angry was painted across her lovely face. Curious, she licked the drop of white fluid from her lips, surprised at the salty tang. Law’s hips jerked slightly when she experimentally flicked tip of her tongue against the glistening head of his erection, and the smirk he threw down at her proved it had been a good thing. Eager to keep him happy, she finally wrapped her sweet mouth around the frenulum, strangely enjoying the musky taste of him.

“Fuck, yeah, like that. You’re doing great, sweetheart, but I know you can take more.”

Needing no more instruction than that, the dutiful woman opened her mouth wider, allowing him to gradually sink another three inches inside her wet cavern until he hit the back of her throat.

Carding his fingers through her thick black hair, his hips jerked as she gave his shaft a particularly delicious suck, tongue stroking the thick vein that pulsed along the underside of his length. Regardless of whether or not she’d be useful in his plans, Law was definitely patting himself on the back for securing such a delectable and eager concubine. “Just like that, Baby-ya,” he praised. “Take a deep breath through your nose and relax your jaw; let’s see how you handle deep-throating your husband’s cock.”

Obediently she did so, and Law could have cum just from the feeling of her hot, wet mouth slowly engulfing his straining length. It was far from a new sensation, but after over a month of celibacy, the delicious feeling of her tongue stroking him as he sank into her, combined with the light scrape of teeth and the sight of those luscious, cherry red lips wrapped around his girth, made it nearly as overwhelming as the first time.

For a moment, she choked, unable to breathe around the thickness of his meaty shaft, her gag reflex straining against him. Law took a few seconds to enjoy the sensation of her throat muscles constricting before pulling out, allowing her to take in a few desperate gulps of air.

It took an absurd amount of willpower to stop himself from shoving his cock back inside her, Baby 5’s discomfort be damned. Logically, he’d known it would be too much for her—she’d never even been kissed before today, much less given head—but he just had the most twisted desire to push her limits and see how far he could go before she broke.

He ran the back of his tattooed fingers across her cheek. “I’m sorry, sweetheart; I thought you’d be able to take it. After waiting all month for you, I needed a proper blowjob, but I guess I expected too much,” he said, disappointment bleeding into his voice.

“No!” she gasped, panicked. Law needed her, and here she was, letting him down! “I can take it! I just wasn’t doing it right!”

A devilish smirk curved his lips. Perhaps she’d be harder to break than he’d assumed, at least physically. After all, this was Baby 5—a woman willing to destroy herself to make someone happy. The prospect excited him. “Well, if you’re sure you can do it, I’m not going to stop you. In fact, let’s make it easier; why don’t you focus on relaxing your throat and leave the rest to me?”

Swallowing hard, she nodded, once more opening her jaws as wide as possible and letting him fill her until the corners of her mouth hurt, wincing as the bulbus head of his cock bumped against the back of her throat. The fist in her hair angled her head back to take him better, while Law’s other hand stroked along her bulging throat, coaxing the tense muscles to relax and swallow down the mix of saliva and precum that gathered in her slick mouth. Inch by inch he worked himself further down with slow, careful thrusts, murmuring encouragement as she took him, finally stopping with a pleased groan. Baby 5’s eyes widened upon realizing her nose was buried in his pubic hair, the lightheadedness from lack of air and pride that she’d swallowed down all seven inches of him making her nipples pebble and sending thrilling tingles straight down into her core.

Face flushed and eyes dark with desire, Law gave the top of her head a little pat, like a dog who’d managed to get a new trick right. “There you go. Monet could never take me like this, but I knew you’d get there. Now just sit still and let me fuck your face.”

Slow and steady, he rocked his hips back and forth, using her mouth and throat shamelessly. The hands fisted in her hair guided her up and down his cock with no resistance, the woman completely submitting herself to his needs. With enough training, he was sure she’d be able to take him like this whenever he desired—and if training failed, he was happy to surgically modify her.

Little whimpers and moans sent delicious vibrations up his shaft as her throat clenched, further increasing his pleasure. Looking down, Law couldn’t imagine the innocent assassin looking more beautifully ruined. Tears had formed in her glazed eyes while drool leaked out of the straining corners of her mouth. The pure white veil was slightly askew in her mussed black hair. Scarlet burned across her cheeks as his swollen length pushed past plush lips with every thrust, and he swore he could feel her tongue rise up to stroke him. He was certain if he looked at her delicate neck, he’d see her throat bulging.

And yet, through the pain and tears, she looked almost blissful in the knowledge that she was pleasing her husband.

Her expression mixed with the pleasure he was feeling was enough to send Law over the edge. “I’m gonna cum, Baby-ya! Swallow every damn drop, sweetheart.”

The Corazon didn’t wait for her to brace herself, large palms merely holding her head in place as he fucked her face hard, groaning as his thick seed shot down her throat like liquid missiles. He could feel her desperately trying to swallow it all, the rippling of her throat muscles lewdly milking him.

Panting and pleased, he extracted himself carefully, stroking her tear-stained cheeks and whispering little compliments to the coughing maid. “You did so well, sweetheart. Took me beautifully. And that face—you looked so good sucking me off, I just couldn’t help myself. I’m a lucky man to have you as my wife.”

As she caught her breath and fought to swallow down the taste of him, her cheeks flushed further at his words of praise. Noticing this, Law chuckled as he rubbed her damp panties with his toe. “Did you cum just from sucking me off, Baby-ya?”

Whimpering, she rubbed her thighs together. “No, but if you need me to—”

Yanking her to her feet, he indulged in a deep, filthy kiss, tongue delving past her lips to taste the lingering drops of his seed still clinging to her teeth. When he finally pulled away to let her breathe, he chuckled, “As hot as I find the thought of you creaming yourself just from having my cock down your throat, I’d much rather feel you cum around me.” He ducked his head to trail wet kisses along her jugular in a false apology. “Did I hurt you? The first time’s never easy, but you did a great job.”

“You mean that?” she rasped hoarsely. Law hoped he hadn’t strained her throat too badly—he was looking forward to hearing her scream his name with what he had planned next.

“I’d never lie to you,” he cooed, voice full of poisoned honey as he nipped at her neck. “And since you were such a good girl, I think you deserve a little reward. Would you like that, Baby-ya?”

“If…if you think I should be rewarded,” she answered demurely, through the way her hands clutched his biceps betrayed her eagerness, especially when he started sucking the delicate flesh directly above her fluttering pulse.

Really, her pleasure shouldn’t matter. She was just a weapon in his arsenal; a tool to be used and discarded as needed. Her purpose was to be his fuck toy, alibi, spy, and secret weapon. But there was a small part of him that wanted her to enjoy this. That soft spot he had for his childhood friend demanded that, as much as this was his victory, Baby 5’s wedding night should be good for her, too.

Besides, the practical part of him knew that it was easier to ensnare the undying loyalty of those you’ve shown consideration to. It was how Doflamingo had managed to brainwash his “Family.” If Law wanted to break Joker’s hold on the loving-yet-volatile assassin and replace it with his own, he had to treat her even better.

Luckily for him, he was going to give her things the Heavenly Demon never would.

With a final luscious lick up to her ear, Law whispered, “You’re so damn precious I just want to eat you up. Sit on the edge of the bed and spread your legs. I love rewarding good girls like this.”

Instantly she did so, and Law took a moment to appreciate the sensual picture she made. Her thighs were pale and muscular, the white stockings and garters covering much of the flesh but leaving a sliver of skin at the top tantalizingly exposed. Full breasts were barely contained by the corset as she took deep, steadying breaths. And at the apex of her legs he could see her slick arousal seeping into her white panties, coaxing him to bury his head between her thighs and have a taste.

Slowly, he sauntered towards her, leaning down to brush a teasing peck over her lips, smirking when she unconsciously tried to chase after him as he pulled away. “Hold still, sweetheart; a good girl accepts her reward graciously.”

Her cheeks flushed further, and Law couldn’t stop himself from letting out a soft laugh. God, she’s so easy. I wonder if I could make her cum just by talking? Hmmm, maybe that’ll be tomorrow night’s fun. Mentally putting that on his agenda for the honeymoon, he slowly kissed and licked his way down her body, trailing his lips over the tops of her breasts, down her trim waist, smirking as she desperately tried not to wiggle as he teased her through the lace. Finally, his mouth reached her core. Firm hands stroked the exposed skin of her thighs before he looked up at her, grin stretching wide at her aroused expression when he ran his tongue along her covered slit.

“Ah, Law!” Baby 5 cried, burying her fingers in his dark hair as she tossed her head back.

In retaliation he sank his nails into her plump ass as he tugged her forward, mouth teasing her mercilessly. Even through the lace he could taste her feminine musk, and he knew the heat of his tongue was like nothing she’d ever felt before. She was undeniably untouched, but so wet and eager—practically begging to be used like a cheap whore.

Her hips twitched in time to his strokes, biting back mewls and moans as he pleasured her. Law had every intention of getting a better taste of her sweet juices later, but for now he retreated, ignoring her protests to reach under the bed and fish out a large box. “Don’t worry; I’ll give you more of that soon,” he promised, grabbing her shoulder with his free hand and pushing her down onto the bed. “Lay back against the pillows, close your eyes, and put your hands over your head. Your reward is only just starting.”

Aroused and keen to get more of her “reward,” Baby 5 did so, though her brow did furrow in concern when she heard a soft metal clink. Her eyes snapped open as her strength was sapped from her the second the Seastone cuffs touched her skin. “Darling, why?” she cried, weakly jerking her arms, but the chain was securely connected to a secret hook at the bottom of the sturdy headboard. She was further pinned down by Law straddling her waist. As he removed the gloves that had protected his skin from the power-draining metal, he rolled his hips so she could feel how he was already once more half-hard in anticipation.

Flipping the key to her shackles into the air and catching it easily, Law gave her a devilish grin before slipping it into his pocket. “Because I like the idea of you being completely helpless while I ravish you. You’re lucky it’s just cuffs—I’ve gagged and blindfolded my past lovers when I’ve done this.”

“But Seastone—”

“It’s just a precaution; can’t have you turning into a rocket mid-orgasm, can I?” he mocked. Holding out his hand, he surrounded her with a blue light as he whispered, “Mes.”

“Law, what are you doing?!” she cried as her heart popped out of her heaving chest, floating delicately over to her sadistic husband.

The Corazon chuckled, his wicked gold eyes studying the rapidly beating organ in his hand. “We’re married, aren’t we? That makes this mine by rights. I just thought I’d give it a little attention.”

“Wha-what do you mean?” she asked, a tremor in her voice. She’d seen him remove hearts before, but they’d always belonged to his enemies or people who seriously annoyed him. What had she done wrong? He said he was going to reward her for being a good girl, but this didn’t seem like a reward to her!

In answer, Law brought the transparent cube to his lips, dusting a feather-light kiss to Baby 5’s pulsing heart. It stuttered in his hand at the contact, and he watched the face of the chained woman beneath him contort in confused pleasure.

Like this, he had the power to crush the delicate organ to a pulp or give his new plaything sensations she’d never even imagined were possible. It was a hell of a rush, and Law intended to make it last. Honey eyes locked on her face, his tongue stroked up from the bottom of the left ventricle up to the aorta, relishing the way her mouth gasped in silent pleasure even as her brow furrowed in discomfort. Her fruitless writhing provided delicious stimulus to his hardening shaft as it rubbed against her stomach.

Reaching behind him, he stroked two long fingers along the soaked lace of her white panties, teasing her slit as he gave the heart another sensuous lick. The hips beneath him jerked in response, slick thighs attempting to snap together to trap his calloused digits, but he pulled away too quickly.

Helpless against the sensations, Baby 5 stared at him desperately, panic and lust warring in her eyes.

It was a look Law found unspeakably arousing. His fingers returned to curl against her, teasing her entrance through the barrier of her panties as he asked, “What is it, Baby-ya? Am I making you feel good?”

“Law, please…”

“You didn’t answer my question; am I making you feel good? How can I trust you to be a good wife if you won’t communicate with me?” he jeered with a smirk, pressing another fleeting kiss to the surface of the heart.

With a whimper, she managed to shakily respond, “It feels…strange. It m-makes me hot, but…scared, seeing you with my h-heart.”

He knew she was being honest; he’d played with his own heart a few times, partially out of morbid curiosity, and the sensation was hard to put into words. Adrenaline was certainly a common reaction, but the human body—being confused due to the inherent wrongness of such sensations inflicted upon a vital internal organ—usually let off a wide and fascinating array of responses. “You precious thing. Don’t you trust me? I mean, sure, I’ve broken plenty of hearts,” he said, giving it a little squeeze for emphasis. Baby 5 cried out in alarm and pain, and Law quickly loosened his grip, peppering kisses across it in apology, “but I’d never do such a thing to you.”

“You…wouldn’t?” she gasped, tears beading like pearls in her thick lashes.

Another kiss, this time more amorous with plenty of tongue, was his initial response. When she cried out in shocked pleasure, he rewarded her by finally slipping his hand inside her panties, giving her clitoris a firm rub. The little bundle of nerves was already slick with her juices and swollen with lust, prompting him to pinch it between his thumb and forefinger, chuckling at the way her hips tried to jerk under him in response.

“Of course not. You’re special, Baby-ya. The one woman in the whole world I could imagine being my wife.” Slowly, his index finger trailed down further to work its way inside her tight sex, chuckling darkly as she moaned. Experimentally, he gave a shallow thrust, and when she clenched around the digit tightly, he knew he had her.

Timing the curl and thrust of his finger to the licks and kisses he lavished across Baby 5’s heart, he watched as her cheeks flushed, and her fearful whimpers gradually morphed into lustful pants and mewls. Pleased, Law decided to kick things up a notch, forcing another long finger inside while rubbing her pearl with his thumb.

His cock swelled as he felt her hips buck, even as she once again scrunched up her face in discomfort. “Mmmm, how does that feel, Baby-ya?”

“It…it hurts. Just a little…”

“Of course it does. A precious little virgin like you is going to be amazingly tight.”

“I’m not sure you’ll fit,” she whimpered, remembering just how much of a strain deep-throating him had been. She knew the female body was designed for this, but if two fingers were already stretching her, the idea of taking his cock seemed impossible.

“Oh, I’ll fit. You just need some extra preparation,” he purred, finally returning her heart to the perfectly cubic hole in her chest before crawling down her beautiful body. He reluctantly removed his fingers from her warm depths, but only so he could strip her panties from her toned legs and finally get a good look at his prize.

Fuck! Law thought lustfully, black pupils dilating as he stared down at her quim. Pink and glistening, her netherlips looked just as kissable as the ones on her face. Her clit was swollen and practically demanded he play with it, while the scent of her desire teased his nose. What surprised him, however, was that she was perfectly smooth and waxed, except for a small, neatly trimmed patch of dark hair in the shape of a swirling heart, much like his tattoos.

“Do…do you like it?” his bride asked, voice trembling in anticipation. “Since it’s your motif, I thought—”

“God, you are just begging me to fuck you, aren’t you?” he growled. Really, she couldn’t have declared herself his property any more clearly, and Law felt his shaft swell even more.

“So, you like it?”

Leaning in, he pressed a fleeting kiss to her sensitive pearl. Naturally, she bucked at the electric sensation, and he responded by blowing a stream of cool air over it before replying, “It’ll do for tonight, but tomorrow, you’re shaving it so I can replace it with something more…permanent.” Raking his eyes across her beautiful, untouched body, he flashed his teeth wickedly. He could already picture it—his hearts tattooed on the smooth, sweet flesh above her ripe quim, ass, and around both nipples.

“Of course, darling,” she mewled breathlessly.

“Good girl,” was all he bothered to say before he hooked her legs over his shoulders and dove in to properly feast on her juices. Finally, he didn’t have to hold himself back; the flat of his tongue lapped at her dripping slit with abandon while his sideburns rubbed roughly at the delicate skin of the maid’s inner thighs. Baby 5’s cries of pleasure grew louder as he moved his mouth up to wrap his lips around her throbbing pearl, sucking hard as he thrust two fingers back inside her aching canal.

His tongue delicately flicked the pulsing bundle of nerves as he curled the digits against her G-spot. Baby 5’s back arched off the bed in response. “You like that?”

“Y-yes,” she mewled, hands balling into tight fists, her nails digging into her palms as she helplessly writhed beneath him. God, he was incredible! She’d never felt anything like this! Every time he twisted his fingers and flicked his tongue across her clit, another surge of fire and lightning overwhelmed her, making her toes curl and heart pound. It was a like a spring was coiling tighter and tighter in her lower belly, and she instinctively knew it was only a matter of time before it snapped.

Law could tell she was close. Her quim began to spasm around his fingers while her high-pitched cries bordered on shrieks, and for a moment, he considered denying her the orgasm that had been building up. But as much as he wanted to see her twist and squirm in frustration, he wanted to hear her scream as he pushed her over the edge so much more. And with how tight she was, the orgasm would make penetration easier for both of them.

So instead he pressed on, even managing to work a third finger inside before his bride at last came apart. Her back arched completely off the bed as she screamed his name in extasy, her sweet cream gushing over his chin and hand as her thighs clenched tightly around his head out of pure reflex.

It took Baby 5 a while to calm down from such an overwhelming orgasm, Law’s tongue sadistically lapping at her musky essence through the aftershocks, prolonging her climax. Tremors wracked her body with every hot lick, and when her legs finally relaxed enough for him to extract himself, the Corazon smirked down at her with an almost feral smugness. The flushed look of rapture did his ego good; she was staring at him like he was a god.

“So,” he drawled as he crawled upwards, brushing his damp lips against her mouth to let her taste her own juices, “did my lovely wife enjoy her reward?”

Barely able to catch her breath, she still attempted to chase after his lips as he pulled away. “Ye-yeah,” she panted. Her first orgasm had been earth-shattering and like nothing she’d ever experienced before. She felt like a stripped wire—exposed and sparking at the slightest touch.

“Such a good, sweet girl,” he purred, running his tongue along his upper lip to clean away the glistening cum. “You taste so much better than the whores I used to play with. Sweeter than honey. I think I’ll eat you out for dessert every night.” Wordlessly, he activated his Room, and he chuckled as he watched her instinctively flinch at the blue light. “Now, now; I’m not going to play with your heart again.” At least, not literally, he thought. He pulled the key out of his pants pocket before Shambling them, along with her corset and his underwear, off to the other side of the room. Careful to avoid touching the metal with his bare skin, Law unlocked the Seastone cuffs, dropping a light kiss to the assassin’s abused wrists once they were finally free.

With nothing to act as a barrier between them, his cock ground hotly against Baby 5’s aching cunt. “Ready to truly consummate the marriage?” he murmured, draping one of her legs over his hip as he lined up with her entrance. It was a rhetorical question—he intended on fucking her regardless of her answer. The woman existed to serve his needs, and with the serum now in full effect, Law was primed and ready to fill her with as much of his cum as she could take.

But the illusion of choice was important if he wanted to completely turn her to his side.

Baby 5 swallowed hard, clearly still nervous, but even more afraid of disappointing her husband.

Sensing her hesitation, he crooned, “I’ll make you feel good, Baby-ya. I promise. That orgasm was just a taste of what I can give you. Don’t you trust me?” He gave a slight pout for extra measure, and when she reached up to grab his biceps, bracing herself, he knew he had her.

Inch by inch Law sank his hot, pulsing shaft into her tight, slick sex, taking his time partially for his virgin bride’s sake, but mainly so he could savor the moment. Part of him wondered why he was enjoying this so much—tight and sexy as she was, fucking Baby 5 wasn’t that different from anyone else.

Then again, she was living proof that he’d managed to play Doflamingo for a fool. That his patience and subtle machinations were finally beginning to pay off. That Joker might have been powerful and difficult to kill, but he wasn’t some omniscient, unbeatable god—he was a mortal man that could be manipulated and beaten.

Claiming Baby 5, one of his most loyal subordinates, meant Trafalgar D. Water Law was one step closer to avenging Cora-san, and that was something to savor.

“You’re…so big!” the woman beneath him whimpered, nails digging into his tattooed arms as the intrusion stretched her virgin cunt. Even during the rare moments she’d sought to pleasure herself, she’d never been so full. It bordered on painful, the way his girth worked the untrained muscles. “Law, it’s too much!”

He could have laughed. An assassin who could transform into weapons complaining about pain? How ridiculous. “Now now, Baby-ya—a good girl would take her husband’s cock without complaint. It might be overwhelming right now, but soon you’ll be begging me for more,” he rasped, leaning forward to wrap his lips around one of her neglected nipples. She would beg him. He didn’t care what tricks or techniques he had to use; he’d have her screaming his name and cumming around his cock like the desperate whore that she was. It wasn’t just for the sake of testing her limits and loyalty; his pride demanded that she ended the night a flushed, lustful mess.

He’d waited weeks—years—for this, and he deserved nothing less.

Sneaking a hand between them, he flicked his thumb over her swollen and sensitive clit, smirking around her nipple when he felt her walls ripple around him in response. Wet tongue curling around the peachy nipple, he carefully strummed her little bundle of nerves with surgical precision as he slowly sank deeper inside her cunt. He could hear her pained whimpers gradually morph into ones of pleasure, and his free hand stroked up her sweaty body to play with her neglected breast, pinching and squeezing the amazingly soft skin.

His mouth released her nipple with a lewd, wet pop as he finally bottomed out, and a low, satisfied groan escaped his throat. She may have complained about him being too big, but her cunt eagerly sucked him in, silken walls instinctively milking his cock.

“See?” he grunted, giving a shallow thrust as she moaned beneath him wantonly. “I knew you could take it.”

“Ye-yes, darling!” she gasped, hips bucking experimentally to meet his thrust. When the friction resulted in a hot pulse of pleasure rocking through her core, she wrapped her arms around Law’s neck and threw back her head, submitting herself to him fully.

Thrusting hard and pulling out slowly, Law relished the feel of Baby 5’s wet heat milking his thick, meaty shaft. His fingers clutched her hips with a white-knuckled grip, lifting her ass off the bed so he could get a better angle, snapping into her hard enough to knock the breath from her lungs. His thumb was long enough to continue stroking her pearl, and his grin turned utterly depraved when the curved tip of his hot length pressed against her G-spot, coaxing a shocked and shameless cry from her lips. He didn’t think he could get any harder, but good god, her sexy little mewls and moans right in his ear made his balls tighten and his cock throb.

Baby 5 was in heaven, overwhelmed by the heady fire Law’s thick cock stoked inside her. Her heaving chest was flushed to match her face, her jaw hung loose as she moaned helplessly, and her sensitive breasts brushed headily against his chest every time he rammed into her, taking care to hit that magic spot inside her every time. That knot of pressure was building up again, tightening with every thrust, but somehow, she knew their current pace wouldn’t be enough to send her over the edge.

Or at the very least, she was certain she wouldn’t cum until Law gave her permission, and that wouldn’t happen until he got exactly what he wanted from her.

“Are you ready to start begging?” he groaned as he forced himself to maintain a slow and steady pace. Oh, he’d fuck her senseless, but not until she did what he asked. “Even good girls like you have to earn the right to cum. Tell me how much you like getting fucked and beg me for more.”

It was positive reinforcement, in a way; so long as she did exactly as he commanded, she’d get the pleasure she craved. The pleasure only he could give her.

“Please, Law,” she mewled in his ear, nailed scraping enticingly down his tattooed back, “you feel so good. I love getting fucked by you! Please, use me like you promised!”

Oh, she couldn’t have phrased that better.

Hooking her legs over his shoulders, he groaned as the new angle allowed her to squeeze him even more tightly. He halted his thrusts to lean forward and kiss her languidly, practically folding Baby 5 in half as pressed her legs to her chest.

When he pulled away, Law smirked devilishly as he whispered, “You asked for it, sweetheart.”

Forsaking any restraint, he proceeded to fuck her brutally, hips rapidly pistoning in and out of her like a jackhammer. The bed creaked with the force of this thrusts, though the sound was nearly impossible to hear over Baby 5’s desperate cries.

After what felt like an eternity, her silken walls clutched his cock like a vise as she erupted with pleasure. The greedy way she milked him was enough to set Law off, his hot, sticky cum gushing into her womb. A calloused thumb ground against her clit to drag the feeling out as he let his softening shaft rest inside her, relishing her warmth and the way she tensed and rippled around him.

Sweaty, panting, and pleased, the Surgeon of Death eventually pulled out to study his handiwork. Baby 5 looked utterly debauched and satisfied, just like he’d always dreamed. Sweat-slicked hair gleamed like obsidian. Creamy skin glistened under the dim lights. Rosy nipples were diamond hard and straining for more stimulation on her abused chest. Red welts from where his fingers had grabbed her ass would surely darken into purple bruises to match her eyes. Drops of white sperm and her own translucent juices leaked from her swollen quim.

The sight, combined with the stimulating effects of the serum in his bloodstream and the fact that he was still horny after a month of celibacy, made his cock ache for more.

Gently, he fisted her thick black locks and coaxed her onto her hands and knees, drawing her head towards his lap. He hadn’t fully softened, so his shaft, practically gleaming from their combined juices, stood at half-mast, eager for stimulation before the next round. “Clean me up, Baby-ya. With your mouth.”

Panting, the maid obeyed, wrapping her hot little mouth around his cock and swirling her tongue around the leaking tip. With the hand fisted in her hair guiding her, she licked up and down the length of him, lapping up the salty cocktail of their mixed cum. For a moment, she wondered if he planned on fucking her face again, but he seemed to like the teasing kisses and sucks she pressed to the sides of his erection, making no move to force himself back down her throat.

“Mmmm, where’d you learn to do this, sweetheart?” he purred as the flat of her tongue ran along the sensitive vein that protruded from the underside of his shaft.

She pulled away to answer, her hot breath inadvertently teasing him as she replied, “Nowhere, darling. I was just imagining it was a popsicle.”

“Do you always eat popsicles like that?”

“I will if you want me to.”

His only response was a low chuckle, his licked-clean rod once more hard and aching. He knew he could go at least another round before he needed a break—but oh, what position to choose? There were just so many ways he wanted to fuck her; he was simply spoiled for choice.

Pulling Baby 5 onto his lap, he held her right above his pulsing erection. He took a moment to grind the tip against her entrance, teasing her with the anticipation of penetration, but refusing to sink into her just yet.

“Eager for my cock now, eh?” he asked as she wiggled in his firm grip above him, anxiously trying to sink onto his turgid member.

As the mushroomed tip brushed her pulsing clit, Baby 5 whimpered and nodded. The two intense orgasms had been exhausting, yet she still craved more. She’d never felt pleasure like what Law had given her, and as sore as she was from his rough pounding, she ached even more for him to fill her up again and bring her over the edge once again.

Gold eyes glimmered in devilish glee. Perhaps it was because she’d stayed a virgin so long, but it appeared his innocent bride was well on her way to becoming a nymphomaniac. “Then ask me nicely.”

“Please, Law,” she squeaked as he caught one of her pebbled nipples in his mouth and gave a sharp little bite.

“Please what?” he muttered against her pale flesh, nuzzling the soft globe.

“Pl-please fuck me again.”

“Good girl,” he chuckled as he languidly lowered her back onto his cock. “What position should I fuck you in this time? Any suggestions?” His long fingers caressed down her spine to slip between her smooth ass cheeks, the tip of his middle finger teasingly brushing against her puckered hole. “I’ve filled your mouth and cunt—shall we go for the hat trick?”

“I-it doesn’t matter to me,” she gasped, though there was clear hesitation in her voice. Law didn’t miss the way the muscles in her pert rear tensed at the suggestion. “So long as you’re happy.”

Annoyed, he stopped, hand moving from her ass to harshly grab her chin he could glare down at her. “You’re evading the question. If you don’t want to get fucked in the ass tonight, say so. I won’t stand for a dishonest wife,” he snapped. Much as he wanted her as his pliant little fuck toy, it was more important that she never even dreamed of lying to him. She’d of course be required to lie to the rest of the Family, but to him, she needed to be an open book. There was only room for one manipulator in this marriage, after all.

Law suddenly had a wicked idea. Cock still buried inside her, he rolled onto his back, groaning as the new position made her sink down even further onto his aching length. Steadying his breathing, he let one hand rest behind his head while the other gripped the maid’s waist. “If can’t tell me how you want to be fucked, you’ll have to show me.”

“What?” she asked, eyes wide and slightly panicked.

His grin was sensual and cruel. “Ride me. Fuck yourself on my cock. Rub your clit. Do whatever it takes to make yourself cum.”

“I can’t!”

“Didn’t you promise to be a loyal, obedient wife, Baby-ya? And yet here you are, on our wedding night, already disobeying me.”

“I…but…”

“You’re to do as I say, when I say it. When I tell you to ride my cock while touching yourself, I don’t care if you think it’s selfish to take your own pleasure; just do it.”

The pathetic little whimpers she made might have swayed a lesser man, but Law simply lay there, watching her struggle internally. If she was going to be part of his plan, he needed her to obey any order he gave her. If she couldn’t give herself an orgasm because Law told her so, how was she ever to be trusted to follow him during his coup?

Finally, with no choice but to accept the Dark Doctor’s sadistic will was greater than hers, Baby 5’s pale, slender fingers slowly inched down to her swollen clitoris, experimentally giving it a light rub. The reaction was immediate; her hips bucked involuntarily as the over-sensitive bundle of nerves reacted to the sudden stimulation.

The man beneath her groaned as her walls clenched around his length, and he could see the wheels turning in her head. “Do that again, sweetheart,” he rasped, his grip on her hip tightening. Obediently, she did so, sending more shockwaves through her core, once more earning a pleased sound from her husband.

It finally clicked that her taking her own pleasure would bring Law pleasure, and she took to her task with gusto, flexing her hips and thighs so she bounced up and down on his thick shaft, her back arching as it hit that secret spot inside her. Masturbation had never felt right to her, but this was different; Violet and Monet had told her that men rarely cared about a woman’s pleasure, but clearly her darling Law was the exception!

“Much better,” the man in question growled, forcing his own hips to remain still, relegating himself to do nothing more than watch and guide her. At least physically. Throughout the night he’d been forcing himself to keep his words cloyingly sweet, but now that his snare was surely tightening around her, it was time to test the waters with some dirty talk. “You look fucking delicious like that. I think you were made for my cock.”

“W-we were—ah!—destined to be together!” was her strained reply as she rested her free hand on his hard chest to give herself better leverage.

“You think destiny had anything to do with how horny I get you?” he scoffed with a smug grin, flicking his thumb across her pearl for a brief moment before moving it out of her reach, smirk widening at her disappointed cry. “Don’t sell my skills short. I’ve made women cream themselves just by talking. And you…well, you’ve starred in my wet dreams for years. If it hadn’t been for Joker, I would have fucked you in every room of the palace a hundred times over.”

“I…I never thought you wanted me…” she admitted as she quickened her pace, chasing after that fire Law had ignited in her earlier. It was harder without his touch, but he needed her to fuck herself on him, and she wouldn’t dare disappoint her beloved.

The way she clenched his throbbing erection was sweet torture. “Well, I guess you were wrong,” he groaned, unable to stop himself from bucking slightly. When she moaned in response and rested both palms on his chest, he glared, grabbing a slender hand and forcing it back between her legs. “I never told you to stop touching yourself, Baby 5.”

Small white teeth sank into her abused bottom lip as she once more pinched and rubbed her pearl. It felt so good, especially when combined with the way Law’s hard cock stretched her so perfectly.

But…it still wasn’t what she needed. The coil of pleasure in her belly was tightening, but not nearly as much as when Law had touched her. It just wasn’t enough. Wasn’t right. Her body was supposed to be his to play with—like this, it felt like she was using him.

“Law,” she simpered, peering down at him through her thick lashes, pouting in what she hoped was a seductive manner, “don’t you want to touch me?”

It wasn’t hard to catch onto her game—she had never been good at subtlety—and Law smirked cruelly in response. “I’ll touch you when you tell me what I want to hear.”

“I…please, fuck me in the ass,” she whimpered, pinching her clit harder in hopes of pushing herself just a little bit closer to that daunting precipice, but climax remained out of reach. Violet had warned her that being taken in that hole would hurt more than the others, but if that’s what it took to finally get Law to bring her over the edge, she’d endure it.

Tempting as it was to take her up on that offer, partially as punishment for continuing to lie to him, Law staunchly refused. As much as he’d love to defile all three of her virgin holes in one night, training his new concubine honesty and obedience was far more important. Besides, leaving that one orifice unfucked gave him something to look forward to. Perhaps he’d save it for a special occasion…

He shook himself out of his fantasy when Baby 5 clenched sharply around him, back bowed as she rubbed herself harder. From the way her cheeks flushed and the desperate sounds that were pouring from her throat, it was clear she was caught on the precipice of her climax, but not quite able to push herself over.

“You’re still lying to me, sweetheart. I’m not going to do a damn thing until you give me the answer I’m looking for.”

“What…you’re looking…for?” she panted, aroused mind desperately trying to figure out what he wanted so he’d just fucking touch her and release the tight knot that twisted tighter and tighter inside her pulsing core.

Licking his lips lewdly, he purred, “Tell me what you want, Baby-ya. Tell me what dirty things you want me to do to you.”

Swallowing hard, managed to choke out, “I…I want you to fuck me.”

Law rewarded her honesty by removing her hand from her clit and replacing it with his own, giving the poor, abused bundle of nerves a brief but tantalizing grind before resting his palm back on her hip. “How do you want me to fuck you? Do you want me to bend you over my desk and take you from behind? To spank your cute little ass until it’s red and throbbing, then fuck it brutally while I play with your greedy cunt? Do you want me to tie you up and fuck you with an assortment of toys?”

“Yes~” she moaned, furiously riding his cock like she needed it to live, bucking in a frantic attempt to have his thumb brush against her pearl again. She was so close, she just needed that last touch from Law…

He wasn’t letting her have her way, though. “Wrong. Those are my fantasies. I’m asking you to tell me what you want. Now.”

Like waves futilely crashing against the rocks, Baby 5 clawed and grasped at the Dark Doctor’s chest, wordlessly begging him to just touch her, but he stood resolute.

“L-Law, please,” she finally screamed, tears welling up in her amethyst eyes. “I just want to cum! That’s all I want! I can’t make myself…” she trailed off, face a lovely scarlet as she buried it in her hands, ashamed and aroused and utterly desperate.

Gold eyes widened in both understanding and fascination. So, her psychological damage was to the extent that she couldn’t even take her own pleasure? Couldn’t climax at her own touch because her mind saw that as being selfish? No wonder she’d been so responsive to his touch. So eager for another orgasm. She’d likely never fully experienced one before tonight.

Oh, this just got so much better.

Grabbing her muscular waist with both hands, he slammed her down onto his cock, his hips snapping upwards to meet her halfway, smiling like the devil himself as she let out a gasping cry in response when the curved tip hit her G-spot. “Such a needy little thing,” he chuckled, brutally fucking up into her. “You weren’t desperate to get married; you were desperate to get fucked, weren’t you?”

“Ah! No, I—” she tried to argue, only to be cut off by a sudden climax, her mental barriers finally deeming it acceptable for her to cum.

“You were looking for a hard, thick cock, not a ring,” he taunted, continuing to take her through the aftershocks. Mischievously, he shifted his hand so he could rub his thumb over her pearl, relishing the way her slick walls spasmed and clenched him so perfectly as he once more prolonged her orgasm. “You would have spread your legs for anyone. Poor Baby 5 couldn’t get the job done herself, so she was willing to marry the scum of the earth just so she could finally get off. What a slutty little minx.”

He hit his own peak just as her tears started to fall, hot cum filling her tight cunt while saline drops splashed on his bare chest.

As soon as he caught his breath, Law flipped them over so he could hover above her, relishing her broken expression like an artist appreciating his work. Sweaty, crying, flushed, and caught between post-orgasmic bliss and despair, hers was a face he chose to burn into his memories.

Yet as much he enjoyed taking her apart, he would always make sure to put her back together; she just wasn’t as much fun in pieces, and that went for her mind, too. It was almost funny—even though he was trying to turn her into an obedient, compliant little weapon and plaything, he was remiss to relinquish that feisty spark she had. He always liked that she was willing to talk back to him, and he was a greedy man; he wanted both her obedience and her fire.

It would take some time and careful maneuvering, but he was patient, and the result was well worth the effort.

Pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, he cooed, “Lucky for you, I like slutty little minxes, and you’re definitely my favorite.”

“I-I am?” she hiccupped.

Cupping her face, he tenderly wiped away her tears, smirking slightly when he saw he was smearing her juices on her cheek. Leaning in, he licked away the mess, relishing the salty taste of her pain and pleasure. “Of course you are you precious thing. And so long as you’re only a slut for my cock, I’ll give you all the pleasure you could ever ask for. Because I’m your husband, and I always reward my good girl.”

Her smile was so beautifully ruined beneath him, he was nearly tempted to fuck her again, but his body demanded a break to properly recover. Acquiescing to his body’s needs, he pulled out and reclined against the headboard, wrapping his arm around his wife’s waist to pull her slick, exhausted figure against him. The veil in her hair was barely holding on to a few tangled strands, and he chuckled, plucking out the white lace comb and tossing it carelessly over the side of the bed.

As Baby 5 cuddled against him, Law activated his Room to fetch a cigarette and a lighter from his desk. The little orange flame licked at the end of the white stick as he promptly lit it, taking a long, steadying drag.

“So,” he began, releasing the smoke from his lungs as studied his thoroughly fucked wife, “was it as good for you as it was for me?”

“It felt amazing, darling,” Baby 5 replied, glancing up at the cigarette enviously. “Was it…everything you wanted, Law?”

“I got exactly what I wanted,” he murmured, rubbing his thumb along her swollen lower lip. “I knew he was wrong about you.”

“He?”

Though his expression remained carefully neutral, he could feel dark anticipation rise as he prepared to break her just a little more. “Joker thought you wouldn’t be able to satisfy me. Hell, none of the men did; they assumed you’d be a prude. Even took bets at the bachelor party on whether or not you’d get me to cum tonight.”

The naive maid’s jaw dropped slightly at the revelation. “They did?”

Law took a long, deep drag of his cigarette, drawing out her torturous doubts before he finally replied, “Mmm, I had faith in you, though. I knew such a good, obedient wife would give me all the pleasure I could ever ask for. Even if you did need some coaxing.”

“I…I’m sorry,” she whimpered, looking away in shame.

A tattooed hand gripped her chin, carefully turning her head back to face him. His other hand pressed the butt of the cigarette to the seam of her mouth, enticing her to part her lips and take it. “Shhh, it’s okay; now that we’re married, we’ll have plenty of time to practice. You’ve heard how…insatiable I am, and as my wife, it’s your duty to fulfill my needs.”

Her eyes lit up. “Of course!”

“My needs aren’t just sexual, you know,” he warned. “Now that you’re mine, that means you’re part of the Heart Army. Pica may outrank you, but you’re my subordinate now, so you no longer answer to him. My commands take the highest priority. So if I have a mission or task for you, you’ll obey without question, right?”

“Anything you need, Law!” she said happily. Though she’d miss serving with Buffalo and the rest of the Pica Army, it felt so good to know that her beloved wanted her at his side, even in battle.

Law couldn’t stop the dark, wickedly pleased smirk from curling his lips. Snatching the cigarette away, he gave her a long, hard kiss to compose himself. For a few minutes, he relished the way the assassin enthusiastically allowed him to dominate her mouth, tongues curling and stroking until they were finally forced to part for air. “That’s what I like to hear from my good girl. Can you keep a secret?”

“Yes!” she panted.

He gently ran his fingers through her sweaty, tangled locks before cradling her cheek with his palm. “Even from the rest of the family? Can you do as good a job keeping this secret as you have my name?”

“Anything for you, darling!” she cooed, nuzzling him affectionately.

His deep voice practically dripped with false concern. “Joker expects us to have a child together. Now, while I know you’ll be a wonderful mother, I’m scared; what if I didn’t remove all of my Amber Lead Disease, and it passes onto the baby? I couldn’t bear to watch my child suffer like I did.”

Violet eyes widened, the maid’s mind quickly remembering how weak and sickly Law had been as a kid. Of course he wouldn’t want his own children to endure the pain and stigma he had. And it might just kill her to watch her son or daughter wither away due to illness. “I understand, Law,” she said sadly, wrapping her arms around his waist to comfort him. “You need me to lie and say that it’s my fault; that I’m the reason we can’t have children.”

Long tattooed fingers stroked soothingly up and down her bare back. “No, but your consideration is appreciated. Doflamingo’s given me one year to study our DNA and do what I can to ensure we have a kid to carry on my legacy. But that’s not my only concern.”

She looked up at him, silently begging him to tell her what was on his mind. He knew she wouldn’t be able to bear the thought of her darling husband having troubled thoughts, especially now that he was dangling the possibility of a child in front of her.

“Perhaps I’m worrying over nothing concerning my disease, but even if you give birth to a perfect, healthy baby, I have so many enemies—people who might want to hurt our child. I even suspect there might be a traitor in our midst.”

Baby 5 gasped. “What?! Who?!”

He hid his grin by taking a long drag of the cigarette. Who indeed? “Right now, I can’t say—I only know that someone wants me dead.” That person was Doflamingo, of course, though only after he’d performed the eternal youth surgery. But at the sharp, protective gleam in his wife’s eyes, Law knew it was exactly the right thing to say. “I know we’re all supposed to be one big, happy family, but the Heart Seat is highly sought-after. Vergo is still bitter that Joker gave it to a disrespectful kid. Trebol frequently undermines my suggestions. Even Pica’s shown jealousy towards me, since no one mocks my voice.” Leaning in, he brushed his lips over hers. “I hate to say it, but you’re the only one I can trust, Baby-ya. The only one I know really, truly cares about me. The only one who would never even think to betray me.”

“Really?”

“Of course. Why else would Trebol have proposed? He must have caught on that I had feelings for you and wanted to steal you away.”

The fact that the disgusting executive had obviously proposed as a joke and had taken it back was irrelevant; in Baby 5’s cracked, romantic mind, this was a completely logical explanation. “He…to think I was almost stupid enough to accept his proposal!” she cried, burying her face in her hands in shame. He darling Law had been pining after her, and she’s nearly given herself over to another! Oh, how could her beloved even look at her, knowing she’d been so careless?

A pair of rough hands gently pried her fingers from her face, and gold eyes peered at her with adoration. “I forgive you, Baby-ya,” Law murmured, leaning in to brush a soft kiss to her lips. “What matters is you married me, and Trebol’s plans were foiled. But I don’t doubt he has something else up that snotty sleeve…”

“I’ll never fall for his tricks again!” she exclaimed, clutching his hands in hers, eyes full of earnest determination. “You said I’m the only one you trust? Then you’re the only one I trust! You were right, back in the lab; you’re the only one that cares about me enough to tell me the truth.”

Oh, the irony of it all. Still, perhaps later on he’d be more honest, once she was securely tangled in his web. He’d show her the dark side of the Doflamingo Family, offer up more proof that none of them had ever given a shit about her, and ensure that once his final plan for revenge was set in motion, she was past the point of no return.

The image of him standing over Joker’s dead, mutilated body was a regular fantasy, but now he envisioned Baby 5 resolutely at his side, arm a smoking gun as she shot a bullet or two into the heartless corpse for good measure.

The very thought brought a smile to his face, and he knew exactly what he had to say next.

Nuzzling her nose with his, Law whispered, “Baby-ya, I need to you promise me one last thing.”

“Anything.”

“If you see Joker trying to kill me, I need you to fight him with everything you have.”

“What?! But Doffy—”

“—has killed your fiancés before without hesitation. Perhaps it’s all some sick joke; to give you exactly what you’ve always wanted, then steal it away,” he sighed, hand dropping to run his palm up and down her thigh. The white stockings were smooth against his skin, and the likelihood of exactly who gave her the wedding lingerie once more taunted him. “Where you’re concerned, he seems to become somewhat…irrational and cruel. Despite us clearly being perfect for each other, it took a ridiculous amount of convincing to make him agree to our union.” Law’s other hand cupped her chin, tilting her head upwards so he could look into her eyes with trepidation. “I even wondered if perhaps…he wanted you for himself.”

“That’s ridiculous, Law—Doffy sees me as his little sister!”

A midnight blue eyebrow raised in disbelief. “Does he? No one can deny he’s even more insatiable than me when it comes to women. He’s been dressing you in that skimpy maid uniform for years—if he really saw you as his sister, he’d never put your body on display like that. He even told me he’d take you for himself if it weren’t for the fact that it would be the end of his bachelor lifestyle.”

“He…did he really?” she whispered, an edge of horror in her voice.

It took everything he had not to smile as he hammered the final nail in the coffin. “Baby-ya, who gave you your wedding lingerie?”

“…Joker did.”

Law shook his head. “Once we’re on our honeymoon, we’ll burn it and I’ll buy you a new set—the idea that he might be fantasizing about you in that puts me ill at ease.”

Baby 5 nibbled on her lower lip in thought. “But darling, if Joker wanted me for himself, why did he let you marry me?”

“If I had to guess, I’d say he’s got a long-term plan.” He pretended to think it over as he ran his thumb across her abused pout; she’d bit through the delicate skin hard enough that a few minuscule droplets of blood had bubbled to the surface, staining her already ruby lips a deeper red. “He only agreed to my request for your hand in marriage on the condition that I impregnate you with another medical genius—someone to replace me once I die giving him the Perennial Youth Surgery. Perhaps…once I’m gone, he intends to make his move. Take you for himself under the guise of providing for the widow of his late executive. He’d have you, eternal youth, and his next Corazon all in one fell swoop.”

“I’d never betray you like that, Law,” Baby 5 insisted. “Even if you died, I’d never even look at another man. And I’d certainly never marry the one that killed you!”

The Dark Doctor smiled like a leopard who’d had a baby deer stumble into its claws. “I know you wouldn’t. But if that’s really what Joker’s planning, we need to be careful. We can’t let him know we suspect him. We certainly can’t be sure who else in the Family might be in on it. So I need you to play the part of the feisty, dutiful maid and assassin while keeping your eyes and ears open for anything useful.”

“Absolutely. Anything I uncover that could be of use, I’ll tell you.”

“Good girl. And if the day comes where he realizes we’re onto him, do you promise to protect me, Baby-ya? To be a good wife and come to your husband’s defense should Doflamingo try to kill me?”

“Of…of course.”

Kissing her forehead to hide his smirk, he replied, “Such a good girl. I knew I was right to marry you.”

She beamed vibrantly at him; despite discovering that the people she’d considered her family had been plotting against her, she was comforted by the fact that she had Law by her side.

Wrapping her arms around his waist and gently kissing his tattooed pectorals, Baby 5 sighed contentedly. “It all feels like a fairy tale; I spent years looking for love, and there you were, right in front of me.”

The word “love” ripped at Law’s heart for a moment as Cora-san’s smiling face and final words overwhelmed his mind. What would his savior say if he knew what had been done in his name? Would he regret sacrificing himself for the sake of a man who would go on to take his place as Corazon?

It didn’t matter. Really, Law was doing more than the dead Marine had; he was successfully leading Baby 5 away from the Doflamingo Pirates. He was putting an end to the Heavenly Demon’s criminal empire. He would eliminate one of the shichibukai and perhaps even free Dressrosa as a result.

Not that he cared about any of that. All that mattered was revenge—the rest was just a lucky side effect.

Pushing away the memory of the man who had tried to protect him from this life, Law pulled his new wife flush against him. “Ready for another round, sweetheart?”

“Already?” she gasped as his mouth latched onto her throat, sucking a bright red hickey onto her neck—a mark of ownership nearly as unmistakable as the ring around her finger.

“All this talk of Joker lusting after you makes me want to remind myself that you belong to me; heart, mind, and body,” he purred, stroking her lush curves. “And you did tell me to use you however I needed tonight.”

“I did,” she agreed, turning her head to catch his lips in a kiss. He readily returned it, hands busying themselves with ridding her of the white stockings so she lay naked and defenseless to his lustful attentions.

Perhaps Cora-san wouldn’t approve of his actions. Would think him as cruel and monstrous as Joker. Right now, Law didn’t care. He deserved this. Life had been one massive pile of shit for him, from the Amber Lead to the genocide of Flevance to his servitude to Doflamingo—the universe owed him something as simple as a dutiful, sexy wife who could aid him in his ultimate plans.

Law needed this small victory to keep going. A reminder that his goal was attainable. And even if the universe didn’t owe him anything, Baby 5 did—he gave her her dream, so she had damn well better be willing to sacrifice everything for his.

They’d both be free of Joker or die trying.

The End

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