My SD Mr. Map and i are donezo! He went from an amazing sweet SD to the saltiest pretzel in the world. This is a long story guys… be prepared for the salt.
Right before New Years, He told me that he lost a lot of money in the stocks so he won’t be able to give me an allowance anymore BUT GET THIS… he said “I can still pay for our dinners and stuff”……. Why would I get dressed up, drive to go to dinner with you, force a conversation for 30 mins and then drive home empty handed?! I said no.
(It gets worse guys.)
So I went out of town for NYE and got stranded where i was and needed a plane ticket home. He was the last person i wanted to ask but I did. He said he would but I had to PAY HIM BACK. Because I was desperate to get home, I said yes I would. He booked me the cheapest flight ever on Spirit airlines ($190). I didn’t care, I just wanted to get home. Because their flights are so cheap, Spirit makes you pay for a bag and a seat. I asked him to pay for a carry on ($36) and a window seat in the front ($13)… He said “I’m not paying for a seat. You can sit wherever is available, and can’t you just take a back pack? Why do you need a carryon?”…. I told him, I’m paying him back anyways so just buy the damn seat and carry on. After negotiating with this man, He then paid for a seat at the very back of the plane ($10) and paid for a checked in bag ($31) instead of the $36 carry on and $13 window seat. Whatever, at least I had a flight home.
It gets even WORSE….
When I got back home, he started blowing up my phone. He said he has an idea, I don’t have to pay him back the $250 right away, I can pay in “installments” BUT I have to go on a date with him every “installment”. I said okay (I was really planning to give him the $250 at once and never talk to this asshole again)….
So one Saturday night then he texted me at 9pm asking what I was doing. I said “nothing, chilling… why?” he had the audacity to ask me to come over. I was in shock, so I said “come over for what?” he said… “For that date you promised me ;)” So of course I cursed him out from head to toe and told his broke ass to never ever text me again. I’ll meet him at a starbucks to give him his money when I feel like it.
It was easy to creep up to the balcony of his chosen’s room as mist, brought in by the night breeze.
The vampire knew he could no longer resist his chosen. This was no random choice, but a careful courtship in the daylight hours, bringing all his charm to bear. Walks along the cliffside - it was a sweet moment to shield his chosen from the salt spray, watch how the breeze lifted strands of sun-bright hair. Talks by the fireplace and being entranced by the way hot chocolate lingered on those cherry pink lips, wanting to lick it away with his tongue. Little gifts of flowers and books and gentle playful banter.
The vampire knew he was quite smitten the moment his chosen gave him his own ridiculous nickname.
The vampire froze.
His chosen - his beloved Steve - was sitting up in his bed, a hand clutched at the throat of his nightshirt.
He was mist - he was the night air - surely it was not possible that Steve could see him?
“Bucky, don’t be ridiculous. I know that’s you."
That nickname Steve bestowed upon him was absurd - even if Steve did insist that it suited him perfectly. Still, he found himself obeying and he assumed his more familiar form, smiled upon his beloved with his sharp white teeth.
He knew that Steve would not fear him. He knew that what he needed would be freely given, without fear, without coercion.
Steve opened his arms and the vampire went into them gladly, kissed open that sweet red mouth, laved nibbling kisses down that delicate jawline, the sharp protuding bone of his collar, followed a trail to that precise spot where his pulse beat wildly.
The blood, given with love, tasted of passion and sweetness and all the sunshine in the world. He was careful, so careful as he drank Steve in, listening to that fragile human heart as it began to beat in time with his own, careful to stop, not to take too much, only for his need and their shared pleasure.
It wasn’t long until the vampire stopped drinking, began to kiss at those wounds, lick at them gently so they would heal.
But he was surprised when the vampire suddenly found himself on his back, pressed down by his beloved’s slight weight, pinned by a fierce, intense look in those summer-sky eyes.
"Mine,” Steve growled.
The vampire smiled. “Yours.”
As the sun rose, the vampire came back to the ancient abbey that would now be his English home. Certainly there was a swagger in his step and a twinkle in his blue-gray eyes.
His grandsire looked him over and groaned, “Iacov, did I not tell you? You are the one meant to leave marks on his throat! Not the other way around!”
Iacov, Prince of the House of Draculesti, pressed a hand to the dark, wine-red mark made by his beloved’s eager mouth and just smiled.
Count Buckula Gets His Own Hickeys Because Steeb Is a Little Shit, a Blanket Fort Headcanon