#i want some golden grahams

[roasting-aphobes]

#what are even pronouns #are they just used for us because we feel like we have the need to label ourselfs? #lgbtq #queer #nonbinary #trans #transgender #agender #bigender #trigender #trans woman #trans man #genderfluid #pride #roasting-aphobes post #roasting aphobes #🦖 #I want some Golden Grahams

[aroacespeccult]

Me when I randomly think about my family and finally understand they were toxic to me and it affected my whole life:

...

#no thoughts head empty #toxic parents #roasting aphobes post #i want some golden grahams #lgbtq community #🐱‍🐉

[lovebugism]

"s'mores are perfect when the marshmallows are burnt" "you jsut can't cook" + eddie munson for blurbcember ❄️

ty for requesting! :D — you freeze your ass off to spend some time alone with eddie; he learns you love him more than s'mores (established relationships, fluff, 1.6k)

blurbcember ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

You and Eddie sit stranded in Steve’s backyard, the only ones brave enough to weather the late-night cold. 

The bursting bonfire died down to a couple of sparkling orange embers, and the party followed accordingly. While your friends sought shelter in the warm living room, unfreezing their fingers around cups of hot cocoa, you and Eddie remained outside in the navy blue winter — too stubborn to tread behind them.

“But wait— we haven’t made s’mores yet!” you’d whined. The shivering bodies of your friends rushed by you and into the heated house, anyway. Eddie was the only one to stay with you after the fact. ‘Cause his girl was gonna get her s’mores even if it was the last thing he ever did.

He makes the first one perfectly. Mostly because that one was for you.

You sit patiently in the slanted wooden chair, knees up to your chest, drowning in the thick leather jacket Eddie gave you for warmth. It smells just like him — like pine and childhood. It keeps you as warm as the smoky marshmallow on your tongue. 

The melted sugar gets caught in your teeth, along with the chewed-up graham cracker and gooey milk chocolate. You smile with it all anyway when Eddie’s second batch doesn’t turn out nearly as good as his first. 

“Eds, that’s burnt!” you laugh with your mouth still full as he smacks a blackened marshmallow between two square cookies.

In several layers of dark flannel, the boy shrugs lazily. He plops onto the adirondack beside yours and shoots you a lopsided smile, tinted pink and softly chapped. His skin, made more pale by the dark and wintery night, rivals that of the shining full moon. It makes his flushed cheeks that much more rosy.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about— s’mores are perfect when the marshmallows are burnt.”

He takes a too big bite to make a point. You grimace at the crunch of the over-cooked confection, then smile when the melted sugar sticks to Eddie’s chin. “No, you just can’t cook,” you retort with a lovesick grin.

“But I’m right!” he insists, black crumbs sticking to the corners of his mouth.

He’s too hardheaded, and you’re too in love with him to argue about it any further. You just smile and shake your head, so full of adoration you’re sparkling with it. “You’re so cute,” you murmur, features warm and visibly fond.

He grins wide, never minding the food caught in his teeth. “I know.”

“Should we make everyone else one?” you wonder, nose scrunched as you spare a look over your shoulder. 

Through the sliding glass door, you can see into the golden-lit living room. Everyone’s lazing under blankets, crammed onto couches or lounging on the floor. You can’t tell if they’re sleeping or not. You feel the need to take care of them anyway.

Eddie scoffs with his mouth still full. “Hell no! Those cowards chickened out on us,” he answers bitterly, then in a deeper and posher accent, continues. “Only the bravest of warriors can be rewarded with such fine delicacies.”

“Getting hypothermia makes us ‘the bravest of warriors’?”

“You’re the one who wanted to stay out here!”

“I did,” you argue with a laugh. “But not for the stupid s’mores.”

He gets cartoonishly confused. His bushy brows furrow and his winter-kissed features swirl together. If you weren’t weathering the winter for his obviously unmatched cheffing skills, then what exactly were you out here for?

“Then… for what?” he wonders slowly and with his dark eyes squinted.

You roll your eyes at your oblivious boy. A smile hints at the corners of your mouth. “Eddie…” you murmur, hoping your sudden sheepishness might give him some sort of hint. Telling him, ‘I’m out here in the freezing cold because being next to you makes me feel warm’ is far too sweet and not at all on brand for either of you.

“What?” he says with a faint laugh, still visibly clueless.

“I stayed out here because of you, you idiot,” you confess, giggling softly when it makes his doe eyes get all squishy around the edges.

“Oh,” he hums, then grins all wide and giddy. “Sweet.”

It’s too easy to forget how much you like him sometimes. Mostly because he doesn’t feel very deserving of you at all. He just takes all the sweet moments alone with you that he can get, then tries not to explode every time you remind him that you love him back.

“I am starting to get cold, though,” you murmur, jaw tense to keep your teeth from chattering. 

A crisp breeze rolls by and shoves its teeth into every inch of exposed skin it can bite. Your cheeks and lips have long gone numb with it. You can only wrap Eddie’s jacket around you so much before it stops helping.

“Well, I know something that’ll warm us up…” the boy beside you croons with an audible smirk.

Your face scrunches at the implication. “Eddie…” you grouse.

“Get your head out of the gutter— I’m talking about booze.”

You squint at him. He reaches between his many layers and pulls out something from the inner pocket. It glimmers beneath the moonlight for a moment until you realize what it is — a glass, small and polygonal, half-filled with amber liquid.

“I picked the lock to Steve’s dad’s liquor cabinet,” he confesses, twinkling with boyish excitement. “This looked the fanciest, so…”

At a loss for words, you shake your head. “You’re insane,” you tell him, even though your smile says that you’re in love with him and all his crazy.

“I’m surprised it took you this long to figure that out,” he quips and unscrews the glass cap. He sniffs the liquid inside, then takes a sip without fear. He winces at the taste.

“Is it good?” you ask, hiding your laugh behind your palm.

“It’s great—” His answer comes wedged between coughs.

When he passes the small glass off to you, you take your own baby sip of the alcohol, with much more hesitation than the boy beside you. The bitter taste coats your tongue and stings going down. The burn makes you cough. Your chest blooms with warmth.

Eddie’s brows raise expectantly. His lip quirks at the edges. “Good?”

“It tastes like rubbing alcohol,” you grimace and hand the thing back to him.

“That’s how you know it’s good!” he insists. He takes another sip and doesn’t flinch this time around. “Like— this is the shit rich people spend hundreds of dollars on just to pretend it tastes good.”

“Being rich must suck,” you observe with your face screwed up.

“Oh, totally,” the boy scoffs. He goes to take a swig, then sends you a worried glance with the glass up to his lips. “Are you warm yet, at least?”

“Not really… My throat just kinda burns.”

“C’mere. Before you end up like that psycho from The Shining.” 

Eddie slouches softly in his seat and holds his arms out beside him. The invitation is a hard one to turn down. Hair wild, cheeks rosy, and dressed all snug — he looks so visibly warm. You want to curl into his chest like a cat and stay there forever.

“You want me to sit in your lap?” you wonder with your brows pinched.

He nods.

“Eddie. I’ll crush you.”

His features swirl with hurt. “I’m offended that you’re doubting my strength right now, sweetheart.”

“Shut up.”

“Get over here before I cause a scene.”

There’s not much of a scene to cause. Both of you know this. You rise on rigid, frozen limbs anyway and walk the short distance to him. 

His palms are oddly warm as they curl around your hips. You sit hesitantly on his lap at first, as tense as a rock, until he pulls you down completely. His arms settle around your waist like they were always meant to be there, hands fitting with you like a puzzle piece. It doesn’t take long for you to melt against him.

Eddie grins at the comforting weight of you. “See? This isn’t so bad, right?”

You try to bite back the beam tugging at your lips. This kind of love makes you feel like a teenager again — heart singing like it’s never been stung before. 

“I mean, yeah, but Steve and Robin are watching us through the blinds,” you tell him as a laugh sputters from your lips. 

You can tell they’re trying to be discreet, but their eyes showing through the slats — at two varying heights — are a dead giveaway. It took the two of them ages to get you and Eddie together, so you’re not entirely surprised by their snooping. They’re nothing if not your biggest cheerleaders. Even if it does make them a couple of creeps sometimes.

Eddie doesn’t bother to look over his shoulder at them. He just tilts his chin up at you and smiles with all his teeth. “Wanna give ‘em a show?”

You smile. Then press your tingling lips to the cold skin of his rosy cheek. 

You know that isn’t exactly what he was asking for, so his plea for another doesn’t surprise you.

“One more?” he wonders quietly, chocolate eyes glimmering with boyish hope.

Happily, you lean in for another peck to his cheek. He turns his head at the very last second and smacks a proper kiss to your mouth.

You pull back, face agape with shock, like he’s never kissed you before. “Eddie!” you gasp.

His doe eyes sparkle with feigned innocence. “What?”

“You’re incorrigible,” you insist and settle further into him.

His contented sigh brushes your temple when you rest your head against him. His ringed fingers give your sides a squeeze. “That’s a real big word, sweetheart. Means you like me, right?”

You let yourself smile wide. He can’t see how lovesick you are from this angle, or else he’d know that you do a whole lot more than just like him. “Yeah, Eds. That’s exactly what it means.”

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #stranger things x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fic #st drabbles #eddie spaghetti drabble #event: blurbcember

[bothoutsiders]

ok so you know the hero gets kidnapped and no one comes and the villain gets pissed on their captive’s behalf and treats them better than their former associates did trope ?

i need that with early red hood jason and robin tim

jason steals tim expecting the calvary to come racing in

but ,,, no one comes

and ok jason can understand why timbit's little baby hero team didn't come

superboy, wonder girl and impulse are all currently off planet

but the batfam isn't

the girls are in hong kong for whatever reason but dick and bruce are across town from where him and tim are

he's had tim for over a week they have to have realized that he's missing at this point

and now jason's like "actually fuck them i'm keeping you"

hello anon! thank you for your request. i think it came a bit small; first jaytim thing i type with my new keyboard B) but it was fun. it's a bit domestic tho, hope you enjoy :)

--

It has been a little over a week since Robin got here. 

It somehow felt like those parents who forgot to pick up their kids at school. Robin had been at the mercy of Red Hood for a week and a few days and there was no sign of anyone coming to rescue him anytime soon.

Jason even went through his notes, every piece of information he had, and his own plan. Many times.

Something didn’t click.

When he kidnapped Robin, he knew Batman would come for him. Knew there would be a big fight, some spilled blood and maybe broken bones. He then would be able to torture Robin in front of Bruce and make him beg, maybe even cry. Satiate his own thirst for vengeance with Bruce’s suffering.

But nothing like that happened.

Robin’s friends were not around and Jason knew that. It was excusable but… What was the explanation for Batman to ignore this? Was he trying to play some kind of sick game with his mind or did he actually not care about Tim?

He didn’t even send Nightwing either. There was no Justice League. There was nobody.

No one.

What was the point of torturing or doing something to Robin if Bruce wasn’t here to witness it?

“Do you have golden grahams?”

Jason turned to look at the teen and thought about what was happening. There was no way Bruce hadn’t realised his new Robin was missing. Nor that Jason had kidnapped him and now was even feeding him.

“No, but I can buy some later.” He said as he placed a windowed box on the table and pushed it toward Tim slowly. “I got you donuts though.”

“Oh?” Robin looked at the box, interested when he had heard it was donuts. Right now he was wearing Jason’s clothes and had come out from a nice shower. “They’re from  Holesome Dough! Great!”

Jason watched him devour one after another while he thought about the situation. He was definitely not imagining things. It was happening.

He looked down and noticed Tim’s bare feet, some drops of his wet hair making a mess around. “I’ve told you to wear shoes and to dry your hair properly. I’m not going to clean that.”

Tim looked down for a few moments before he’d go and sit down in a chair, enjoying his snack.

Stupid Batman was ignoring his own Robin, who was definitely in danger. If Jason were completely fucked up, right now he would have had Tim’s head on display and probably had sent some parts of his body to Bruce, just as a silly joke.

Bruce knew where he was and didn’t even care!

He didn’t care.

Jason rubbed his eyes, tired and frustrated. “I’m not really surprised. Just disappointed.”

“About what?” Tim turned to look at him, a crumb on his upper lip. “Oh. I’ll dry my hair after this. You want some?” He offered him the donut he was eating since it was the last one.

“He’s not coming, is he?” This felt so familiar.

“Bruce?” Tim shrugged. “He might think I have it under control.”

“Replacement, I beat you up. You passed out as you bled when I took you with me. If you were able to handle it, you would’ve contacted him. He didn’t even call you. What’s his excuse?” He snorted and took a seat. “He’s across town, yeah, Gotham is big but not that big that he can’t come to rescue his sidekick.”

Of course it pissed him off. Days prior Jason had gone to check if Batman was around, to make sure he wasn’t out of Gotham doing something else that stopped him from coming to rescue his young, new soldier. The worst of all this? Batman was in Gotham.

It made Jason furious.

This Robin could have the same ending as he did, history would repeat and Bruce didn’t give a fuck about it. It didn’t seem as if Batman wanted a Robin, at least not one to last.

He just can’t be responsible like a proper adult, maybe that’s why he doesn’t have children or pets. Maybe this is why he doesn’t have a family.

He snorted, so close to pulling from his own hair. If someone has a sidekick, they teach them, they protect them. Where was Batman when he was needed? With how things went, Jason suspected that Bruce decided to give Tim to him. As those who throw meat to wild dogs, to keep them busy, keep them away.

“Fuck it. Fuck Bruce, fuck Dick, fuck everyone, I’m keeping you.”

#JayTim #Jason Todd #Tim Drake #w: story #request

[thesecretsofthedivine]

Pick a Pile Reading | Details About Your Future Spouse ⚖️💝

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PILE 1 COLLECTIVE

[ old money ] [ athlete/athletic build ] [ family-oriented, especially with their mother ] [ fluffy, curly hair ] [ brown hair ] [ looks good in/often wears the color blue ] [ will enjoy making pinky promises or playing with your hands ] [ tall for their gender ] [ mediterranean or european background, possible greek or british ] [ charming ] [ talkative ] [ golden retriever ] [ PDA ] [ almost always wears sneakers/tennis shoes ] [ gets along well with your friends & feminine energies ] [ conventionally attractive ] [ notting hill movie ] [ spontaneous first meets, maybe during a trip abroad/after moving to a new place ] [ gemini, sagittarius, capricorn, leo placements ] [ is very knowledgeable about culture, wines, fine dining, etiquette, etc. ] [ woodsy scents/would love to drink alcohol by a fireplace somewhere cozy, especially scotch or something old school ]

PILE 2 COLLECTIVE

[ enjoys orchestra/classical/instrumental music ] [ creatively gifted, especially in singing or photography ] [ likes to stay organized/clean ] [ gift giving as a love language ] [ nicknames that make you feel like royalty, “princess/prince” or “god/goddess” ] [ playful teasing ] [ fire sign, scorpio, aquarius, libra, cancer placements ] [ enjoys writing & keeping a journal ] [ homebody but somebody with status/notoriety & success ] [ using you as their muse on social media/in careers ] [ dyed hair for people attracted to feminines, especially pink ] [ manic pixie dream girl complex ] [ “you’re different than the rest” ] [ opposite aesthetic as you ] [ the great gatsby movie, especially jay & daisy’s attraction ] [ an old soul ] [ cynical and reserved humor ] [ light hair for people attracted to masculines, especially dirty/honey blonde ] [ somebody that i used to know — gotye ] [ a person you share a past/past life with ] [ the letters a, e, r, t, i, l, and n ]

PILE 3 COLLECTIVE

[ spiritually gifted/self-aware ] [ 9h, 12h, 1h, 3h, 5h placements or synastry ] [ optimistic ] [ teaches you how to connect to nature ] [ sent to you by your guides/ancestors ] [ in touch with their feminine side ] [ empress in tarot energy ] [ roots for the underdog ] [ enjoys investments & humanitarian work ] [ well-spoken ] [ amicable ] [ compatible political affiliations, but they may expand your understanding of the world ] [ wears jewelry ] [ would love to get matching tattoos or wear matching clothes with you ] [ manifestation/spell work is a factor in this romance/one of their hobbies ] [ wants to build a home out of you ] [ provider ] [ sensual ] [ connected to their inner child & may like to watch disney/nostalgic movies, especially frozen ] [ a huge cuddler ] [ winter birthday for some ]

PILE 4 COLLECTIVE

[ flexible or enjoys dancing ] [ aesthetic hands ] [ a lover of the arts ] [ soft or quiet voice ] [ socially anxious ] [ remembers the small details about you ] [ impresses your family/mother upon first meet ] [ has a cat or younger sibling for some ] [ lets you paint their nails or practice makeup on them ] [ short hair, may sometimes get perms or curling techniques ] [ thin frame ] [ infp/infj/intj/intp/etc type of personality ] [ indie or soft pop music lover, especially clairo ] [ soft kisses ] [ prone to blushing or avoiding eye contact ] [ pale skin ] [ talks about you to their best friends ] [ karaoke/comedy clubs ] [ graham crackers ] [ strong perfume, especially floral/rose ] [ height difference/size kink ]

#law of assumption #pick a pile reading #astrology #pick a card reading #intuitive #divination #astro notes #astro observations #horoscope #future spouse #tarotblr #pick a pile #natal chart #leo placements #zodiac signs #birth chart #sun signs #psychic #free readings #witchblr #astroblr #love reading #pick a photo #spells #baby witch #astrology blog #subliminals #100% accurate #channeled messages #witch tips

[scientia-rex]

Read some more of Toxic Parents tonight and wow!!!! the amount of anger I have!!! and the incredible unwillingness I have to actually remember my childhood and feel associated feelings!!!!! Like, there are events I keep telling over like talismans, because these are the events that prove I'm not crazy. These are things that happened that should never have happened. The time Dad kicked the door in is the biggest one. The time I spent twelve straight hours cowering in the far back of our station wagon with my fingers jammed in my ears so I wouldn't hear my father screaming at my mother and my mother sobbing as we drove to a different state. The time I told my mother I had gotten accepted to graduate school and her first words were, "How are you going to pay for it?" instead of "Congratulations" or "I'm proud of you."

But these aren't all of it. They're so far from all of it. One memory I have is not of the presence of abuse, but the sudden, bewildering absence of it: my sister drove me to the nearest town with a mall, an hour and a half away. We were stopping to pick up snacks for the drive back, I think at a Safeway. I picked up a box of Golden Grahams cereal and nervously asked my sister if I could have it. She said, "Of course you can, you know what you want." In the limbus of a childhood spent being told I was picking the wrong soda for myself when I gave my order at fast food restaurants, suddenly being told I could have what I wanted T-boned me emotionally. It was like running into a wall I hadn't known was there. What? I can just want things? I can just get things and have them because I want them? I don't have to justify it, or lie, or hide what I want? No one is going to tell me I'm stupid for wanting something or that I'll regret it?

Just an incessant drip-drip-drip of emotional abuse, sometimes punctuated by a flash flood. "If I leave your mother, how do you think you're going to eat? You're going to end up on the street."

And now, reading the section on how children end up feeling about the passive parents who enable abuse, I just think, oh, there's me! There's me. I hated her and pitied her and loved her and wanted more for her. I didn't have the adult emotional capacity to understand how much of her life she was complicit in, but damningly, I did vaguely, tangentially understand that she was constantly making excuses for Dad--coming to my bedroom to sit on my bed and tell me, while crying, that he was sorry, while he never apologized. Making it my job to comfort her. I said to her once that I remember, "If he was really sorry, he'd stop doing this," and she just looked at me with something that looked like sorrow but I could tell was rage--she was angry at me for not forgiving him and letting us snap right back into the "good" phase between angry outbursts, where we could, for however long it lasted, pretend to be a normal family.

And how she always resented me. She resented that I was separate from her, she resented that I could do and see and understand things she couldn't, she was angry when I went into Psychology, even angrier when I went into medicine. She's been throttling down her anger at Dad for as long as I've been alive, pretending to be malleable, having vague health complaints and maladies mixed in among the real ones, forever retiring to her bed with a washcloth over her eyes instead of interacting with me.

And now that I'm an adult, and not just an adult but a middle-aged doctor, why don't I call? Why do I insist on bringing up the past? Why do I expect Dad to apologize? I'm hurting his feelings, after all.

The past. Sure. When I graduated from medical school, he named the worst doctor we ever met and said, "He went to medical school, too. Don't get a big head."

And when we were talking, once, not long ago, maybe two years or so, about how he used to stand there and yell at us--I can't remember any of the words anymore, just the way he looked, the tone of his voice, the experience like being buffeted by a strong wind--he said, "At least your sister fought back. You just stood there and took it."

I can't imagine a clearer illustration that he doesn't actually regret his behavior. He doesn't regret his actions. He still feels justified. We were disappointments, we were failures, we weren't him, we weren't what he wanted for us, and more than that, we were convenient targets for his rage. You can do almost anything to your children and get away with it. And he didn't hit us, so it was okay, and the fact that we were hurt by the actions he took with the intent to hurt us means that we were weak. And it's okay to hurt the weak.

Christ! This is the man who, in a fit of sullen self-pity, when I gave him a mug that said "World's #1 Dad" for Father's Day when I was probably eight or nine, talked about how we both know that's not true. As if a child is your therapist. As if it were my responsibility to reassure him.

My mother has read Toxic Parents. My mother has read Why Does He Do That? She has a bachelor's and most of a master's in psychology. She has an IQ of 150. She is a bad mother. It feels like the worst judgment you can make, a bad mother. It feels worse than calling someone a bad father. Because we expect less from fathers. But a bad mother is unnatural.

But lots and lots and lots of mothers are bad at being mothers. And I love mine and I hate her, and I'm angry and I'll always be angry, and I'll die angry, and I have to try to carve what happiness I can from a world I entered into under false pretenses. I was always told I was wanted. I knew I wasn't. I may have been intentional, but I wasn't wanted.

My mother's mother just died last week. I didn't know her. She chose not to know us. I hadn't seen her since I was twenty-two and graduated from college. My mother is struggling with her relationship with her mother. She often tells me her mother was a narcissist. I want to ask her what she thinks she is. She's not a narcissist, but she's an enabler, she's a doormat, she's a classic case of codependency, and I don't think she sees it that way. I always got the sense she was just waiting for us to grow up and go away so she and Dad could go back to being happily miserable alone together.

I asked her, this last year, if she'd read Why Does He Do That? and she said she had, and she asked me carefully why I was thinking about it, waiting for me to confess to her that my husband of ten years was abusive. She's been gunning for this relationship since the beginning--I'd been with him for maybe a year when she mailed me a copy of He's Just Not That Into You (or maybe it was the sequel, It's Called a Breakup Because it's Broken) along with an article on how to date as a single older woman. I was 23. She was flabbergasted when I said I thought Dad was abusive. Denied it immediately. I listed examples and she didn't even say words, just made simultaneously pained and exasperated noises.

She wants me to be single and a career failure and pathetic so she can feel good about herself in comparison. Dad thinks he wants me to be like him, but if I actually behaved like he does, I think he finally would belt me.

I had to hide everything good in me from them so they wouldn't deliberately ruin it. I couldn't tell them about my writing. The first time I finished writing a novel I told Mom and she didn't even acknowledge it, just told me to do the dishes. I was sixteen. I can't tell them what I love about my husband because it would be like speaking to them in a foreign language. They think it's a performance, like their performance, and they're always waiting for me to slip up and reveal the misery they're sure is lurking just underneath.

I've done well. They don't own me. I wish I had real parents, but I'm going to try not to shop for oranges at the hardware store anymore.

#the attending dr. kristophine

[mcufan72]

Sugar and Cinnamon

Loki x female reader/ 18+

Chapter 6

Chapter 5

Warnings: contains fluff, smut, sex, oral sex, angst, alcohol, soft!dom/sub vibes, jealousy, dirty talking. It's a very long chapter (~9.5k words) so please be prepared! Some of you asked for it and I delivered.

Note: the dancing scene came to my mind when I walked through Soho/London a few weeks ago. It's also inspired by the dancing scene from the movie "Last Night in Soho" and you can find it on YouTube, and this is the song Anya Taylor-Joy and Matt Smith dance to... just to get a bit of the vibe ...and I couldn't resist to let MS make an appearance

I couldn't resist, my lovely @lokisprettygirl You already know that. Thanks for your help and for answering my special question and I sincerely hope I got it right...

This special part of the chapter is for you, my dearest (you'll know it when you read it)❤️🩷💚🤍

Loki couldn't remember the last time he felt that nervous and excited before an event. It must have been on Asgard when he was a young innocent prince, attending for the first time to a ball at the Asgardian Court, expected to dance with a princess for the very first time. He was delighted when Rhea sent him your confirmation for tonight's gala dinner and he looked forward to seeing you again. It wasn't even a real date, officially he booked you as his companion or as you were calling it, his arm candy. Nonetheless, he was grateful that you still wanted to spend time with him.

Dressed in black briefs after a relaxing bath which he took after returning from a run in Morris Canal Park, he stood in his closet and began to dress himself for the evening. For the gala dinner, he chose a black three-piece suit, perfectly tailored, excellently wrapping and emphasizing his muscular body. He combined it with a tight-fitting black shirt, and a dark-green tie which perfectly matched with the dark-green details of the waistcoat and the dark-green evening gown he gave to you, and finished his look with black leather shoes. He wished you would wear the dress tonight. He'd feel honoured. He had a further, little surprise for you. It was nothing special but he hoped you'd like it.

Nervous, nauseous, and excited. Three words to describe your condition. With trembling hands, you did your makeup and put on the dress. Why were you always so nervous when you had a date with Luke? You already slept with him so there was no need anymore to be nervous. You pulled your hair into a sleek tight bun like you always did, the knot high on your head this time. You'd prefer to wear your trainers but of course, you chose the elegant golden high heel sandals you had bought for events like these. They were just a further pair of beautiful little beasts but they perfectly rounded up the elegant design of the gown. You finished your look with the dark red lipstick and there she was: Sugar, ready to meet Luke. You grabbed your golden box clutch, studded with shimmering rhinestones, from the dresser and left your apartment, leaving all your problems behind. You wanted to enjoy this evening to the fullest. You deserved it, didn't you?

When you arrived at the event location, Luke was already waiting for you. Because of the evening darkness and the tinted car windows, you couldn't see what he was wearing but you were sure he would be the most handsome man tonight. He was always eye candy but for tonight he was your eye candy. Luke opened the door for you and offered you his hand helping you to get out of the limousine. You smiled brightly at him, happy to see him again. How could he look better every time you met him? He looked dashing in his tailored suit. Did his tie have the exact same colour as your evening gown? You found his attention to detail remarkable and adorable. What a man. What a wonderful, attentive man. Why wasn't he already taken? There must be a woman who would appreciate and want to be with a man like him.

Loki helped you to get out of the limousine and the first thing he saw were your beautiful legs and the elegant golden high heel sandals with the delicate straps on your feet. When you had left the car completely he smiled lovingly at you. You were wearing it, the evening gown he had chosen for you and you had no idea how happy you were making him. The evening gown hugged every curve of yours perfectly and the strong updo allowed an excellent view of your smooth neck and nearly bare back. You were so damn beautiful, and for tonight you were his and nobody would take you away from him.

“Good evening, Sugar. You look stunning in that dress. Absolutely gorgeous,” he gushed, one hand still hidden behind his back.

“And you look very dapper in your black suit. You're such a handsome man, Luke. And I like your tie, it looks gorgeous. I'm so happy to see you,” you complimented him.

“I hope I didn't overstep a boundary by sending you the evening gown. I just thought you might like it. Thank you for wearing it tonight. I feel extremely honoured,” and a hint of shyness appeared on his face.

“You didn't overstep, Luke. The dress is fantastic and I love it. It's perfect. You have an excellent taste for fashion. I don't deserve such a generous gift and I appreciate it. And also thanks for your lovely letter and I can assure you, I'm not mad at you. How could I, you don't owe me any excuse,” you explained to him sincerely.

His answer was a thankful smile and then he gave you what he had hidden behind his back. A little bouquet of multi-coloured wildflowers, tied together with a small green ribbon.

“Oh my god, Luke! Thank you! Thank you so much…how beautiful,” and your eyes teared up. You've gotten a lot of bouquets from some of your clients but none of them compared to this one. You never got a bouquet as pretty as this. You were sure he had poured his heart into it.

“Did you pick the flowers yourself?”, and you caressed the flowers.

“I did. I collected them in Morris Canal Park. I hope you like them,” he told you and you recognised a bit of shyness in his gaze.

“No man had ever done this for me. Thank you, Luke,” you whispered and pressed the flowers gently to your cleavage. You wanted to hug him but you didn't dare do it.

“It's nothing special but I…”

“Don't underestimate the beauty of self-picked flowers…and they are special. They're special to me because they're from you and I love them,” you interrupted him. You didn't want the flowers to wither and so you gave them to Walker who promised you to take care of them.

Loki felt like a little boy, trying to impress his first crush. He had never expected this cute reaction. He could've impressed you with a giant bouquet of roses but it seemed you appreciated the wildflowers more than any rose or lily he could've bought for you. You were amazing. How could you still be without a loving man by your side? You were so adorable… and naughty as well. A perfect combination.

“Shall we go in?” and as the gentleman he was, he offered you his arm.

“Yes, I'd love that!” and you two entered the location.

Loki introduced you to some of his business partners and finally, he wanted to introduce you to the host of the evening, Mr.Smith, who was still in a conversation. But he had already made eye contact with you. And then you understood what Rhea meant when she said, he's an attractive man. He wasn't a classic beautiful man but he definitely had an extremely charming aura. Almost as tall as Luke, he was lean but bulkier, had dark blonde hair and a sly smile which gave him something boyish and devious but in a very sympathetic way. His green deep-set eyes were sparkling with mischief and fun, and they had nearly the same stare as Luke's. The way he moved, spoke and behaved could captivate everyone under his spell. His elegant black tux and black bow tie perfectly rounded up his impressive appearance. You were sure a lot of women wouldn't say ‘no’ to him and your gaze wandered to an Indian beauty in an amazing black lehenga dress. This absolutely beautiful and elegant three-piece ensemble consisted of the actual lehenga, a long ankle-length and voluminous skirt, embellished with golden intricate embroidery, the choli, a well-fitted blouse top which emphasized her perfectly formed torso and the dupatta, a scarf which she had draped around her stunning outfit. Her waist-length and nearly black hair shimmered like black velvet and cascaded over her back, her big and sparkling dark-brown eyes were the most beautiful eyes you had ever seen. She was such a stunning eye-catcher and you didn't miss how Mr Smith looked at her from time to time. You knew that kind of gaze very well, not just from your clients and every time their gazes met, they both quickly looked away. It was kind of adorable. One might think he was totally smitten by the Indian beauty and nobody could blame him for this, she was one of the most beautiful women at tonight's gala.

“I don't like the way he looks at you,” Loki growled quietly.

“Do I hear some jealousy in your voice, Mr.Larsson?” you teased him. You didn't want to annoy him, you just wanted to see his reaction. You didn't want him to fall in love with you, he paid for your company but nonetheless you wanted him to desire you. You knew that was weird but tonight you were just his, and he was just yours, right?

“What? No, of course not! You're my escort, not my wife,” he frowned, pressing his lips firmly together, his jaw clenching.

“No, I'm not your wife. A pity, actually,” you teased him further and he side-eyed you, the expression on his face unreadable.

At this moment Mr Smith ended his conversation and came over to you two.

“What a beautiful sight at my friend's side… good evening, Miss…?

“...Black, I'm Miss Black,” you greeted him and he took your hand in his and gave a brief kiss to your knuckles.

“You look gorgeous, Miss Black, a further sparkling diamond at my party,” his deep-settled eyes staring flirtatious into yours and a sexy smile curved one corner of his mouth. He grabbed a glass of champagne from a waiter, who passed by with a tablet of filled champagne glasses, and gave it to you.

“Thank you for completing me, Mr Smith,” and you took the offered glass of champagne from his hand. “It's a pleasure to meet you,” you responded tantalizingly and held his gaze.

“The pleasure is all mine, Miss Black and I hope you enjoy the evening. Eat, drink, dance and have fun,” he encouraged you and he turned towards Loki. Mr.Smith was such a player, a sexy lad, you've already sensed that.

“Luke, my old friend, what a pleasure to have you here. I hope you enjoy the evening,” and he shook Loki's hand and placed his other hand amicably on Loki's shoulder.

“Matt, it is a pleasure to meet you, as always and thank you for the invitation," he answered, slightly annoyed and both appraisingly staring into each other's eyes. After a short conversation, Mr.Smith left to order a drink for himself at the bar.

You sensed the tension in Luke's shoulders and you suppressed a grin. He was a bit possessive over you, wasn't he? Since you worked as an escort lady, you were used to a man’s behaviour like Mr.Smith’s. You did everything to get these reactions, through clothes, style, and attitude because every man you saw could become your client. But all of this was a costume, a mask. That wasn't you. Luke would never want you or even like the woman and her problems, who were hidden behind that mask. The woman behind all the makeup and the dark-red lipstick. The woman who called herself ‘Sugar’.

“He was just being polite, and there's nothing wrong about it. He's interested in someone else so, relax Luke, he really was just being nice,” and he side-eyed you again, with raised eyebrows.

He was just being nice? Interested in someone else? You were a head-turner, an eye-catcher tonight and he just saw this guy lustfully staring at you and the only thing he could think about was that no man should ever chase after a girl on a friend’s turf. He saw you taking a sip of champagne, turning your head and grinning at him.

Between the main courses and the serving of the desserts was a pause so that everyone could take a short walk, have some drinks at the bar or enter the dance floor. Shortly before Loki wanted to ask you to dance with him, Mr.Smith came back to you, a glass of bourbon in his hand. With the biggest mischievous smirk on his face, he addressed Loki with a question.

“Would you allow me to dance with your charming companion?”

“You don't have to ask me. You have to ask the lady,” he said to Matt, giving him a fake smile.

“I think I should allow our host of the evening to dance with me, shouldn't I, Luke?” and Mr.Smith took you by your hand.

You would never understand why you had fun annoying Luke and where your self-confidence came from. Why did you want to provoke a reaction from him? And what kind of reaction did you expect? You didn't understand yourself anymore. Did you expect him to fight for his right to dance with you because he paid you for your company? You knew that Mr Smith just wanted to provoke a reaction from that gorgeous-looking Indian lady his eyes had been glued to for over several hours now. He couldn't fool you.

“I'm on to you, Mr. Smith but…Let's play a little game," you said to him while he led you to the dance floor. “But don't you dare play with her, she likes you,” you warned him.

“What do you mean, Miss Black?” He tried to play ignorant.

“Mr.Smith, don't fool me. I just dance with you when you spend the rest of the evening with her and dance with her only,” you answered demandingly, smiling at him.

“Her? Who is ‘her’?”

“The beautiful lady in the black lehenga.”

“I don't dare ask her. I'm sure she doesn't find me pretty enough, not good enough for her.”

“Then you probably should stop eye-fucking each other all evening… it's pretty obvious that you like her… and she likes you,” and you sensed he felt caught.

“Likewise,” he mocked you, "Mr Larsson is eye-fucking you as well, so… you two are not any better than us. It's obvious how possessive he's over you,” and he crowned his statement with a smug smile.

“I see we're speaking the same language, Mr.Smith. Get your girl, she likes you more than you think and believe me, you are very attractive and charming,” you tried to convince him.

“Thank you for saying that, you're very kind...And you go and get your man before he combusts with jealousy… he's addicted to you. And by the way, call me Matt.”

Before you could answer anything the music started to play and Matt began to dance with you.

“You're not his girlfriend, are you?” And he twirled you around.

“What makes you think I'm not?” you asked when you faced him again.

“Don't get me wrong, you're beautiful and charming but he's more the type for fake dating, he never wants to be connected to someone or be close to someone, nonetheless…,” you danced several steps away from him and twirled back into his arm, “…he's undressing you with his eyes,” and he twirled you around again and when you danced face to face again, he held you by your midriff, swaying to the rhythm.

“Why does it bother you? You should mind your own business, Matt. And to be very clear, I'll never date you, it'll always be him and you better take care of the Indian beauty over there. You should really ask her to dance with you … I'm not the one that you want,” you said kindly.

“Yeah, you might be right. I think if Luke is addicted to your personality and not just your body, then he may be falling for you.”

“I think we shouldn't play cruel games with them. We both have what we want, both are furious with jealousy. We should redeem them from their suffering, shouldn't we?” you suggested.

“You're an amazing woman, Miss Black, no man can fool you, indeed.”

“Not in this case, I guess, and… you can call me Candy,” you responded and with that the song ended, your dance was over and you both left the dance floor, walking towards Loki who was waiting for you with an annoyed expression on his face.

That was it. That was the reason why he hated it that you worked as an escort. Other men touching you, lustfully looking at you, dancing with you the tantalizing way Matt just did… This guy was too close, his hand too low on your back, his gaze at you too intimate. Loki fumed with jealousy. All those men didn't deserve you. He didn't deserve you either but he must do something to get you out of the escort business and he better not run out of ideas.

“Thank you for this nice conversation and the dance, Matt,” you thanked him with a bright smile.

“The pleasure was all mine, Candy. Thank you very much for telling me about your opinion and enjoy the rest of the evening.” Loki looked unbelievingly back and forth between you two, frowning.

“Relax, mate, she talked about you only,” Matt said to Loki, patted his shoulder and walked over to the bar.

“Candy? What?” Loki was confused.

“It's my second name, don't think about it further…oh and you can relax, Matt is off the market, he's no competition for you. He never was,” you smiled defiantly at him, clearly feeling the tension in his body. When the next song started, you saw Matt entering the dance floor with the Indian lady. ‘What a beautiful couple,’ you thought and smiled.

You could be such a bratty girl. You did it on purpose, didn't you? You had forbidden him to fall in love with you but you didn't hesitate to tease him like this? Maybe he should give you a proper and all-devouring kiss, here and now so that you and everyone else know, you belong to him. No, no he should not do that. You didn't belong to him. You were your own person and you could do whatever you wanted to do. But he had enough. He grabbed you by your upper arm and pulled you with him into an undisturbed, dark corner and pressed you with his whole body against the wall, breathing heavily.

“What are you thinking you're doing here, hm? Teasing me like that, here in public? Want me to fuck against the wall? Now? Hard, quick, deep?”

“Maybe? You wanted to show me pleasure…”

“You're such a tease. You in that dress… have you any idea what you're doing to me?”

“You wanted me to wear it…”

“Oh yes, because I knew how amazingly sexy you would look in it. And I wanted you to be one of the most gorgeous-looking women tonight because you deserve it. And I'm proud to be the man by your side,” he growled softly.

“Why didn't you want to dance with me? You let him dance with me but don't demand your right to a dance from me? You pay for me and my services. Why don't you force me to do my job?” you asked him quietly, still caged between him and the wall.

“I don't chase, I attract and to make myself very clear, I won't force you to do anything!” His voice dropped to subzero temperatures, dryer than gin.

“And believe me, Sugar, the kind of dance I'm thinking of, is not meant for the dance floor. All you have to do is ask me.”

“You can ask me the same question, I'm your escort, you pay for me, you can possibly demand it from me,” you provoked him further, a tantalizing smile on your lips.

“I'd never do that. I'd never force you. I'm still not sure if you want to do it at all so you'll have to be the one to ask!”

There it was again. He tried to give you the feeling that you were the centre of everything, that he was there to please you, not the other way around. You grabbed his tie and pulled his face closer to yours.

“I want to sleep with you, I want to make it up to you, I want to erase my mistake. I want you to play with me. And I want to try new things,” you whispered, your lips slightly brushing his earlobe, making him shiver. “Play with me, I allow you to kiss my whole body, if you want to, except my face,” you offered him sweetly.

“So you allow me to play with you? Are you sure?”

“Yes, show me pleasure, Luke. Show me how to give in to you, show me how to do it right. I won't disappoint you again,” you promised him.

“I'll do whatever you want and whatever you allow me to do. You won't regret it and believe me, you did nothing wrong or disappointed me,” and he pressed a gentle kiss on the soft flesh of your throat, his hand caressing the part of your naked thigh where the gown had the slit. Your hands clasped his shoulders and you felt his muscles tensing. You lifted the leg he was caressing and hooked it around his waist. He immediately pressed his hips against your throbbing core and you felt his cock hardening.

“We should stop doing this, Luke. We don't want to cause attention, do we? We should continue our ‘dance’ in the hotel suite later,” you moaned faintly.

“You have a valid point there. I don't want anyone to look at you while I tear you apart,” and he gave your butt a gentle squeeze. You felt so good in his arms, too good.

You giggled like a schoolgirl and loosened yourself from his lustful grip, took him by his hand and intertwined your fingers with his. It felt so familiar as if he were your lover, not your client.

“Let's get something to drink. And I need to sit down somewhere…my feet…”

“…are killing you. The little beasts, right?”

“Yeah, sorry. I shouldn't complain so much.”

“It's alright, sweet thing. We'll drink something and you can put your aching feet on my thighs if you want… underneath the table, of course. No one has to see it,” and he winked at you.

“You're adorable, Luke. I don't deserve it. Come, I need a cool beverage now… and…”

“…a dessert, yeah. I already know that. Sometimes I think it's the only reason why you escort me to dinner events,” he joked and teased you and he got a heartwarming laughter from you. You were so devastatingly beautiful when you were laughing. He shouldn't allow himself the feeling but you grew on him more and more.

“You might be right, Mr.Larsson,” was the only thing you could answer him. Desserts were definitely your weakness.

On your way to the dining area, you saw Matt and his beautiful Indian lady heavily making out in another dark corner of the location, both completely melting into each other's arms and forgetting the world around them.

“Shhhh,” you gestured to Luke, “we don't want to disturb them” and you both sneaked silently past them. You couldn't deny that you wouldn't mind Luke Larsson kissing you the same way Matt kissed his girl but unfortunately … you'd never kiss a client.

“I don't like desserts. I don't have a sweet tooth.” Loki complained when you both sat at a dining table to eat some dessert, sitting opposite to each other.

“Who doesn't like desserts? I still don't get it. It's the best thing about a meal. The culmination of every menu… sweet and a melting pleasure on the tongue…,” you gushed.

“I hate it, okay!”

“No, you don't!”

“I do!”

“No, you don't!”

“I do...mpffhh…” and you shoved a spoonful of chocolate mousse with cream into his mouth before he could speak further nonsense. The delightful glance in his eyes when the taste buds of his tongue were pleasantly surprised by the dark chocolate, told you otherwise. A blissful moan rumbled in his throat, making you smile.

“As I said. You don't hate desserts,” you stated knowingly.

“You forced me to eat it!” He frowned and pouted, licking the last droplets of mousse from his lips. “Can I have some more?” He whispered, barely audible to you.

“What did you say?” You mocked him.

“Can I have some more, please?”

“I'm sorry, it was the last one on the buffet… Well, you shouldn't be too disappointed that you can't have more, Luke, because you hate desserts, right?” A mischievous grin curved your lips.

“Hm!” He pouted and crossed his arms in front of his chest, trying to avoid showing his disappointment. “It's not as bad as I thought it would be… but, yeah you're right. I still hate it.”

You chuckled silently and recognised how cute he was at that moment. Trying hard to hold on to his opinion about desserts and not to show you how much he truly liked it after tasting it. Gosh, he was so adorable.

“You can tell me that you've changed your opinion about desserts. It's nothing to be ashamed of. And we can share my chocolate mousse if you want,” you told him softly.

“I appreciate it, Sugar, thanks. Enjoy your chocolate mousse. Come, place your foot on my thigh, sweet thing,” and you did.

Loki opened the straps of your sandal, took it off your foot, placed it on the free chair next to him and began to massage your aching foot and the toes tenderly but with the right amount of gentle pressure.

“Gosh, that feels so good,” you sighed blissfully and enjoyed his tender hand kneading your foot for several minutes.

“Now the other foot,” he said and gave it the same attention and care as he did with your other foot. You moaned blissfully again and the way Luke glanced at you was arousing you. When his fingers massaged around your ankle, you jumped at the opportunity rubbing your foot over his crotch and you felt him getting hard. You looked enticing at him and his pupils dilated with arising lust.

“You're such a bratty girl,” and he pressed a thumb into your bunion, hitting the right spot. You hissed lustfully and a dull throb in your core made you feel all giddy.

“Shall we leave for the hotel?” You asked him and he just nodded. He came over to you and gave you your shoes and when you put the first sandal on he bent down on one knee and fastened the straps.

“Luke, please, get up. I can do this on my own,” you begged him vehemently. He wasn't your servant and he certainly did not have to do this.

“You wear this torturous footwear for me so helping you with your shoes is a bare minimum,” he declared.

You stood up from your chair and stood close to him. He leaned into you and you put your hand on his shoulder. Your cheek gently touched his cheek when you whispered a soft “Thank you” into his ear.

Your closeness and your scent intoxicated him. His one hand wrapped automatically around your middle and pulled you closer to him. The way you gave in to his movement without any hesitation came so naturally that he immediately felt wanted. He couldn't believe that you were just pretending to want him. But it was maybe just your art of seduction and your magic allure that blurred his mind and made him succumb to you.

When you arrived at the hotel and finally in the same suite as the last time, you both didn't waste any time. You quickly prepared the things you needed to be prepared and put your kimono and a lace bra on the backrest of the chair. The purpose of being here again was more than clear. Loki took his jacket off, as well as the waistcoat and the tie. He would need the tie later. He opened his shirt completely but let the hem stay in the waistband of his trousers. He took a seat in the armchair and spread his long legs wide.

You stood opposite him, getting off of your high-heeled sandals and watching him getting partly undressed and taking a seat in the leather armchair, his shirt completely open. Every muscle in his arms and thighs and torso was flexing and relaxing while doing it and it sent a shiver down your spine and directly to your cunt. When there was one thing you hated, that disgusted you to the core, it was men sitting with wide-spread legs. Normally it disgusted you but Loki doing it did something to you, you had never expected. It aroused you, you wanted to sit on his lap or … humping one of his beautiful, muscled thighs. God, if you didn't shove those thoughts away immediately you would've turned into a wanton whore sooner than you thought. Nonetheless, you couldn't stop staring at his prominent bulge. This man was too sexy. His whole body screamed sex.

“Do you like what you see?" he teased you, an arrogant grin on his face while slowly rolling up the sleeves of his shirt.

"W…what?"

“I asked, do you like what you see?” And he placed his now bare forearms on the armrest of the armchair again, his long fingers curling around the ends.

“I hate it when a guy sits like a man whore.” Loki chuckled darkly, smugness written all over his face.

“You like it!”

“I hate it,” you murmured.

“Liar! Come here, Sugar!” Loki pronounced every single word, his voice deep and rich.

You looked at him and a smirk appeared at the corner of your mouth. You shook your head lightly and rolled your eyes. You wanted him to play with you and the game had already started. You both were all in.

“Come.Here.” His voice dropped to subzero temperatures. Harsh, cold as if he could freeze the whole room into an ice cave.

A shiver ran down your spine again and you obeyed. You walked slowly toward him until you stood between his spread thighs. You stared down at him, his ocean-blue eyes glancing up and down between your eyes, your lips and your cleavage. You wanted to be cool and collected but you couldn't help the wetness between your thighs drenching your lace underwear. Why was he able to cause such arousal in your body? It was just sex. A sex appointment. A date, set by your escort agency. A consensual sex date to get some steam off. Just a natural need that you and he wanted to satisfy.

“Strip off your dress,” he commanded seductively.

You obeyed again. You loved to be told what to do next. Since when? You reached behind your back to pull the zipper down but had some struggle finding it.

“Could you please unzip me?” And you slowly turned around. You couldn't see him but you felt his gaze wandering up to your shoulders and down to your buttocks where his eyes remained for a moment.

He could smell you. The subtle scent of your perfume, the natural scent of your skin and the heavy, beguiling scent of your arousal.

“You're outrageously beautiful, Sugar,” he murmured and pulled your zipper slowly down. It was the most arousing sound you had heard for a long time. He was so close to you and you felt his breath fanning over your skin. You let your green dream of a dress slide down your shoulders and it pooled around your ankles and you stepped out of it, kicking it carefully aside.

Slowly he let his hands slide over your shoulders and flanks to your front and cupped your naked breasts carefully, teasing your nipples with his thumbs, making you sigh and moan. A warm tingling rushed through your veins but a coolness rushed over your skin as if a god would touch a mortal to make said mortal shiver in submission.

“Get your bra,” he whispered to your ear, nibbling at the soft skin of your neck. You did as he told you and he took the flimsy lace bra from your hand, put it on you, and closed the clasp of your bra. From the last time, he remembered that you felt better leaving your bra on. And he wanted you to feel comfortable.

“Am I still allowed to play with you?” He asked quietly.

“Yes, yes you are,” you whispered and turned around to face him.

Loki made some steps backwards, sat down again in the leather armchair, leaned back and spread his long legs wide.

Loki's heartbeat quickened and his mouth watered when he saw you in your tantalizing black lingerie. The flimsy lace bra emphasized your cleavage and cupped your breasts perfectly. Your peaked rosy nipples were on display for him through the transparent lace and he felt his cock throbbing with anticipation. He was on edge and he would've loved to take you instantly, roughly, thrusting his cock deep inside of you until you were a dripping mess, screaming his name. But he wanted to take his time with you, enjoy you, seduce you slowly till you were begging him to fuck you. And he would make sure you never needed to fake an orgasm again. With him, every orgasm of yours would be a real one. He would take good care of it and he wanted you to enjoy it to the fullest without feeling ashamed or bad.

“How do you want me?” You asked him softly, your lips slightly parted. Your plump lips drove him crazy. He wished he were allowed to kiss these beautiful lips of yours. He could just imagine how deliciously they must taste.

“I want you to suck my dick. I want you to suck and lick it extensively,” he demanded, testing you. How far would you allow him to go? The imagination alone of your lips wrapped around his cock made him harden.

“Okay. But you won't cum in my mouth. I don't like swallowing your sperm. You can cum over my breasts…and don't hit my face!”

“With that I can deal,” Loki answered darkly.

You didn't like sucking cock at all and the last time you completely ruled it out. Not to talk about swallowing sperm. But it seemed possible to suck him, this handsome guy and you wondered why. You told him you wanted to try new things and so you wanted to give it a try.

You knelt between his thighs, unbuckled his belt and opened his trousers. You reached into his briefs and pulled out his dick along with his balls. Loki moaned quietly and you could just let out a small gasp when you saw his erection. You saw his cock for the first time tonight because the first time when he slept with you, he had blindfolded you before he got rid of his clothes. Loki was a bit bigger down there than the other men you had had sex with. And his cock was… beautiful, pretty even. Perfectly formed in length and thickness, his tip swollen and leaking pre-cum, the veins on the underside pulsating in anticipation, his balls heavy and hot. Your mouth watered and you couldn't wait to suckle him. You had never expected to think about a guy's cock like you did right here and now.

“Am I allowed to place my hands on your thighs?”

Loki hesitated for a moment before he permitted you to do so. If he lost control, nothing would be noticeable there for you. And he still wasn't sure if he was able to stand your touch. But he gave it a try.

“Yes,” he moaned, and you placed your hands there.

You lowered your head and licked a stripe from base to tip. Torturously slow. Once, twice, then you took his cock head gently into your mouth and let your tongue swirl over and around his sensitive tip. You released him with a plop and licked your lips. He tasted so good. Sweet and salty and you craved for more. You gave him a devouring look and turned your attention to his balls. With your hand, you gave him light strokes while you kissed and sucked his balls and when you bit them gently, Loki whimpered loudly. His cock got rock-hard, aching for your warm mouth. How could he even get harder than he already was?

His scent intoxicated you. The smell of musk and the natural scent of his skin, manly and heavy, awoke a kind of lust in your body that you didn't know you had inside of you. Unbridled, initial desire. You were dripping wet and you weren't sure if you were already soaking the floor with your juices.

His breathing became heavier, filled with whimpers and moans. Loki was so turned on that he nearly forgot to blindfold you.

“Should we get you more comfortable, Luke? Lift your ass for me,” you asked him quietly and pulled his trousers and his briefs completely down and took them off completely. While his ass wasn't placed back on the armchair again you took the chance and you caressed his buttocks and kneaded them firmly. Loki sat down again but now he rather laid in the armchair than sit on it so you were able to continue cupping his ass cheeks in your hands and kneading them tenderly. You started to lick his cock again and he gently blindfolded you with his tie.

You flattened your tongue and licked his tip like a popsicle, stimulating his frenulum tenderly but firmly, testing the waters of what he might like. You didn't want to hurt him. Your one hand fondled his balls, carefully and tenderly scratching over the skin. Loki moaned and sighed heavily, writhing under your merciless but delicious torture. You took his unbelievingly hard cock into your mouth again, hollowed your cheeks and started to suck the life out of him.

“Fuck…Sugar I can't…I can't take it…much longer,” he whimpered.

You sped up your pace, your head bobbing up and down in a steady rhythm, sucking and licking him until his eyes fluttered shut, his head leaning back against the armchair's backrest, his fingers clawing into the armrest. You felt him tensing up and shivers ran through his body and you were sure he would come soon. His arousal and writhing and the way he allowed you to own him in this moment made your cunt throbbing and dripping with need. You wanted to get off as well, you never felt so needy before. Never before was any other man able to do this to you.

“I'm…fuck…I'm coming…fuck…,” and he withdrew his cock from your mouth instantly, grabbed his cock and stroked himself two more times. The coil in his lower abdomen snapped and a mind-blowing orgasm washed over him, and he ejaculated in thick ropes all over your breasts. The sight of you blindfolded and letting him come all over your precious bosom doubled his satisfaction.

“Luke…please…” You didn't know what you were begging for but the feeling of his warm sperm running down your cleavage made your head spin. You still knelt between his legs, still blindfolded and dying because of arousal, your clit throbbing and yearning for attention. Loki came slowly down from his high, his cock still hard.

“Come here sweet thing,” and he grabbed you carefully by your upper arms and pulled you onto his lap.

“You took me so well, you're talented, sweet thing. You know exactly what you do, don't you? And now you will get off on my thigh, sweet girl. Want to ride my thigh, hm? Rub your needy clit over my leg and drench me with your arousal. Come, sweet thing, drive me wild…” he moaned lasciviously, guiding your hips when you began to gyrate them back and forth to get the friction to work yourself to much-needed relief. You placed your hands on the backrest of the armchair, your forehead close to his. You felt the warmth of an orgasm rising in your stomach and you moaned and whimpered breathlessly. It felt heavenly, he felt heavenly. And these feelings were all you had because you were still blindfolded. You were already on edge when Loki took one of your peaked nipples into his mouth, suckling and nipping it through the thin lace of your bra.

“Oh god…please…” you moaned. You needed to cum. Now. But Loki stopped your gyrating movements by holding your hips firmly.

“You will come around my cock, sweet thing. No fake orgasm this time, Sugar!”

“Close…I'm so close…please…”

“I know, I'll let you cum, be patient, sweet thing and don't move,” and you heard how he unfoiled a condom. Mere seconds later he lifted you from his thigh, shoved your lace thong aside and slid you carefully down onto his fully erect length, giving you enough time to accommodate his cock and get adjusted to him. He didn't want to hurt you. He would never forgive himself if he would cause you any kind of pain. You whimpered because of how deliciously he stretched and filled you and you were still in desperate need to cum.

“Are you okay, Sugar?” He asked quietly and concernedly. “Can I move?”

“Yes …yes please, I need you,” you answered desperately.

“Good girl, taking me so well. Fuck… you're so pretty…so tight…you've such a pretty cunt.”

Loki guided your movements, made you hop up and down and when you both had found a comfortable rhythm he thrust firmly upwards, faster, deeper, hitting your inner spot at a perfect angle. He took your nipple in his mouth again, nipping, sucking and licking it until it couldn't get any harder and changed to your other breast to torture that nipple in the same delicious way. At this point, you were a moaning, whimpering mess. You felt his cock throbbing inside of you, every vein and ridge massaging you straight towards your climax. It had never felt that good.

“Cum, cum all over my cock, show me how much you want it, Sugar. Scream for me!” And his one hand reached down to your throbbing clit and he pinched and rubbed your swollen bud purposefully. His thrusts became sloppier, he felt his own orgasm rising and he rubbed your clit faster than before.

“Cum…fuck…cum for me…now…” and right on cue you exploded. Your orgasm was intense and not only your cunt but also your whole body was convulsing and shaking and your toes curling.

“Good girl…you're such a…good girl.” Loki's abdominal muscles tensed up, his body shaking when he felt your walls clenching around his cock and it made him orgasm harder than before. You collapsed against each other, bathing in post-orgasmic bliss. This time you didn't fake it. This time you truly had an orgasm and it felt good, so damn good. For both of you.

When you came down from your highs you both chuckled in unison and Loki removed the blindfold from your eyes. They needed a moment to adjust to the dimmed lights of the hotel room again and you could swear there was a light shimmer of blue on Loki's skin. But then you were sure you had just imagined it and blamed the blindfolding for it.

“I'm sorry. I made a big mess out of you,” Loki chuckled.

“Don't worry about it, Luke Larsson. I'll take a shower after you've left. But we still have some time until midnight.” You released his cock, stood up from his lap and you instantly missed the warm feeling of him inside of you. You were still a little weak in your knees.

“Did you enjoy it this time, Sugar?” Loki asked you softly.

“The more important thing is you enjoyed it,” you answered him smilingly.

“That's not the answer to my question, sweets.”

“Why do men always need the confirmation that they were good and are a grenade in the bedroom department?” You contered sarcastically.

“That wasn't my question either. I don't need confirmation that…”

“You're being very self-confident, aren't you? Do we have a god-complex, Mr.Larsson?”

“Why do you have to destroy it, Sugar? I just wanted to know if you enjoyed it and if you're okay.” Loki sounded disappointed and sad and you instantly regretted your rude answer and your behaviour genuinely. You were afraid of your feelings again. You saw him heading for the bathroom and heard him opening the faucet of the sink. You followed him. He was cleaning himself, tossing the condom into the bin and preparing a washcloth with warm water. You stood next to him, facing him in the mirror.

“I'm sorry, Luke. I didn't intend to be mean. I did enjoy it. It felt good, really. I'm just not used to getting so much attention and care afterwards, you know. But please, Luke…don't catch feelings for me. I'm just your escort.” You smiled mildly at him. Your heart clenched when you saw how sad he looked at you. You liked him more than you were ready to admit.

“No worries about that. I won't catch feelings for you, Sugar.” A lie, a perfect lie from a perfect liar. That was what he always has been and always will be, a liar.

“I just wanted you to feel comfortable around me.” And he turned towards you, the washcloth in his hand. You wanted to take it out of his hand to clean your cleavage and stomach from his now sticky seed but he didn't give it to you.

“Let me do this, sweet thing. It's the one thing I'd like to do for you,” and he began to gently clean you. His actions were so soft and caring. You wished you could have this tenderness every day. But not with anyone, no, it had to be him.

'Don't fall in love with him, just don't, you foolish girl' you cursed inwardly.

“I destroyed your lingerie. I'm sorry for that. You looked so tempting and sexy in it, and it was wonderful to have sex with you dressed in this hot lace.”

“A bit kinky, hmm? Lingerie, a blindfold, commanding me…” you stated and smiled.

“Watch your mouth, sweet thing. Don't be a brat.”

“What if I'm bratty? Will you punish me next time?”

You both chuckled and looked into each other's eyes. There weren't only mischievous and lusty thoughts. There was something else. Sympathy, harmony, trust. You two didn't know how or why but you felt drawn to each other.

“Well, the biggest mess got cleaned,” Loki said after he finally cleaned you from his seed and smiled at you.

“Thank you! That was very sweet and thoughtful of you,” you said gratefully.

“My pleasure!" He answered with his deep voice, wrapping around you like a soft blanket. You wished you had a boyfriend like him. Attentive, affectionate and gentle. And not only in a sexual way. With a boyfriend like him, you surely haven't ended up here, as an escort with a man you liked more than you were allowed to like, not to talk about you weren't allowed to fall in love with. You made these rules yourself and you would never break them. Anyway, a man like him would never want to have someone like you as his partner in life. Why should he choose you when he could have any other woman who was smarter, more beautiful and more decent than you? Under different circumstances, you two might have had a chance but now your life was fucked up. You wished you would've met him before you became an escort but it was what it was and you couldn't turn back the time.

You walked back to the main room, took on your kimono and climbed into the bed. You curled up on one side and pulled the duvet over you.

“Are you okay, sweet thing?” Loki asked you softly when he found you lying in bed under the sheets when he returned to the main room as well, dressed in his briefs and his open shirt.

“Mhmh…,” you murmured sleepily. “I'm just tired.”

Loki climbed onto the bed, leaning his torso against the cushions on the headboard. You looked so innocent and cute with your head snuggled deeply into the fluffy pillows. He watched you dozing and he smiled lovingly at you.

“I'll stay until midnight if it's okay for you,” he whispered and you nodded slightly. It made him smile again. He hated cuddling after sex and cuddling without sex even more. But suddenly you came closer and in your sleepy state you draped your leg over his, curled your hand around his waist and your head snuggled into his chest as if he was a damn comfy pillow or a plushie. A sugar angel sleeping in the arms of a monster. He shouldn't enjoy it. He shouldn't touch you. His hands were the hands of a killer, a liar. Hands that fit easily around a gun or a neck. He shouldn't hold a precious woman like you in his embrace.

He wrapped his arm tightly around you and pulled you closer to his chest. You must've fallen asleep, your breathing became calm and deep. You felt so soft and warm and good in his arms and he stole a little kiss by pressing his lips softly on the top of your head. It wasn't a direct part of your face, was it? He closed his eyes for just one short moment because he had to leave soon but he wanted to enjoy every minute he had with you. Maybe aftercare wasn't as bad as he probably thought.

A loud banging at the hotel suite’s door and a loud man’s voice woke him up.

“Sugar? Sugar!” The banging became more violent. “Sugar, are you okay? Sugar, open the door, if not I'll have to break down the door.” It was Walker, deeply concerned because you hadn't been back by the limousine right in time. You also hadn't sent an emergency message. Loki shook you awake when he got aware that you both had fallen asleep.

“Sugar, wake up, Sugar…,” Loki tried to wake you up.

“I'm so tired…I just want…to sleep. Just… a few minutes…just a bit longer…,” you murmured, still sleepy when you heard the banging at the door.

“Sugar, I break the door open! Now!”

All of a sudden you were wide awake. You jumped out of the bed and ran to the door hurriedly. You flung the door open right in time before Walker would break it down.

“I'm okay, Walker, I'm okay,” you gasped in shock, breathing heavily. “Everything is fine,” you told Walker, appeasing.

“Are you sure?” Walker asked concernedly. He peeked into the suite and saw Loki getting dressed.

“Yes, I'm absolutely sure, Walker. I'm so sorry for frightening you but…we…we fell asleep. Mr.Larsson did nothing wrong, I assure you, he behaved decently,” you told Walker and he trusted you. You'd tell him if there was anything that wasn't okay for you. “Please give us a few minutes, we will just get ready,” you asked him.

“Okay, I'll wait for you by the limousine,” Walker answered, throwing a warning look at Loki, who didn't show any reaction towards Walker. You nodded once at Walker and closed the door, leaning against it and taking a deep breath.

“Didn't you tell me, you don't do aftercare?” you questioned Luke teasingly and slightly laughing.

“I did.”

“Do you know what it's called what you did for me in the bathroom and by lying in bed with me sleeping?”

Loki buttoned his shirt upwards, leaving the last three open, buckled his belt, put his waistcoat on, slid into his shoes and looked smilingly at you.

“You tell me,” he asked you and grabbed his jacket from the sofa and his tie from the armchair and draped them over his arm.

“The loveliest aftercare I've ever gotten. Thank you, Luke… also for this wonderful evening, the dress and…”

Loki walked towards you and cupped your head gently between his large hands. They were so soft and felt comfortably cool on your warm skin, that you had to suppress a shiver. He leaned down and pressed a tender, featherlight kiss to your forehead and you closed your eyes.

“No, Luke, please…please don't do that …,” you whispered with teary eyes.

“I know I'm not allowed to kiss your pretty face but I care about you and I want you to know that. I know you could call Walker immediately and tell him to beat me up and throw me out… but it's worth the risk.”

He leaned his forehead slightly against yours and his warm breath fanned over your face. And there it was again. The spicy aroma of something you couldn't specify mixed with his comforting scent of fresh cotton, sandalwood and orange blossoms.

“I just hope that all the other men you meet handle you with all the respect and care you deserve. Thank you for this wonderful evening and night, sweet thing. It was such a pleasure. I felt very comfortable with you. When can we meet again? What about tomorrow?” Loki asked, his voice dark and smooth. He was a picture of pure elegance and arrogance but also gentleness, and his eyes staring longingly at you while waiting for your answer. Would you ever be able to be without him?

“I'm sorry Luke. I already have appointments for the next three evenings.”

“Okay. Then I call the agency tomorrow and ask for another date with you. A club night? Dinner? Would you like that?” He asked you softly.

“Uh hmmh! Sounds good.” You seemed insecure and indifferent but he didn't ask you further.

“Good night, Sugar and take care of you.”

“Good night, Luke… and sleep well.”

Should you hug him? Should you tell him that he's the only one you were sleeping with? Did he already sense it? He had almost left the suite…

“Luke…”,you stopped him in his actions by calling his name and he turned around, facing you. You ran to him and fiercely flung your arms around his neck which obviously caught him off guard. He hugged you back, not knowing what to say.

“Luke Larsson, you might be the only one I take with me to this suite,” you whispered into his ear and for a brief moment you felt safe in the arms of a man who'll never love you back. “Say something …please say something,” you begged him and let go of him to look into his eyes.

He rubbed a thumb tenderly over your lips, his eyes teary.

“You shouldn't be an escort. You should leave the agency. You're too precious for that business. But if you'd do that, I'd never see you again. So I don't know what I should wish for. You being an escort so that I can still meet you but sharing you with other men or knowing you're safe and protected, away from that business but never be able to see you ever again. It both hurts, Sugar… and I know I've already let you come too close to my heart.”

“I can't quit this job, Luke. And maybe someone like you is the only reason that keeps me going. I'd love to meet you again next week. We could go to a nightclub, it doesn't have to be Vivian's Velvet. You can choose another one and afterwards you can have me again,” you offered him, your voice almost breaking. You better contain yourself and not show him that you don't want to let him go.

“In the beginning that was exactly what I didn't want and somehow you convinced me otherwise. You already know that I want to meet you again next week. You, and you alone decide what you want to do afterwards and please don't feel obliged to sleep with me. But you should also know that I'd never deny you. Good night, sweet thing. Promise me to get dressed now and let Walker drive you home. You need some sleep.”

“Promised,” you nodded. He was right. You were tired beyond belief.

When he finally had left, you opened your hair bun, got dressed in casual clothes and Walker drove you home. The whole time until you arrived at your apartment you held the wildflower bouquet in your hand, thinking of him.

“I'm sorry if I scared you, y/n but I was truly concerned.”

“It's okay, Walker, you just did your job. I should be sorry for frightening you… we just fell asleep, I was so tired.”

“Understandable, you are on the road seven days a week. You should take a break. You won't last forever.”

“I know Walker but I have no other choice,” you sighed.

“There's always a choice, y/n…and Mr Larsson likes you if not more,” and he grinned at you through the rear-view mirror, watching you gently touching the flowers Luke had given to you. You smiled tormented back at him.

“He doesn't know me, it's just my pretty shell he likes.”

“You might underestimate him. Sometimes you just have to ask for help and help will be given to you,” Walker told you wisely. Maybe he was right. If it just were that easy.

🌹🥂🌃🌹🥃🌃🌹🥂❤️🌃🌹🥃🌃🌹🥂🌃

Next chapter things will change 👀👀

Tag list:

@lokisprettygirl @faesimps @gruftiela @fandxmslxt69 @buttercupcookies-blog @chantsdemarins @fictive-sl0th @justjoanne242 @km-ffluv @stupidthoughtsinwriting @anukulee @lovingchoices14 @wheredafandomat @lokixryss @huntress-artemiss @smolvenger

#loki x female reader #loki x reader #loki x you #loki x reader fluff #loki x reader fic #loki x reader angst #loki x reader smut #loki laufeyson #loki x female reader smut #loki x female reader fluff #loki x female reader angst #loki x fem!reader #loki x y/n #loki x female reader au #Spotify

[bittersweetresilience]

adrien often being referred to in fanon as “sunshine” and the sun and something about Felix having Moon symbolism. is this anything sunny?

sentitwin sun moon symbolism is absolutely ridiculous. i have thought about it before but never gotten anywhere. this time i consulted @ninadove about it and rotated it in my mind for many hours and i am still not sure about my verdict. therefore i'm just going to ramble a bit and then pass it over to nina. birthday teamwork!

i started out agreeing with the assignment of adrien as the sun and félix as the moon.

their personalities seem to fit the vibes. moreover, it ties into yin and yang.

adrien's miraculous is placed on the yang half of the miracle box, and ladybug's on the yin. his hair is parted to the right, which is the direction of yang, while félix's and ladybug's are parted to the left, yin.

a brief tangent here: even though the placement in the miracle box and adrien and marinette's civilian selves with their white and black outer garments respectively seem to indicate yang and yin, when they become heroes, they swap entirely. ladybug wears red, yang, and chat noir wears black, yin. their powers of creation and destruction are also yang and yin. my theory is that not only are adrien and marinette meant to be halves of a whole as partners, but their hero selves are also meant to halves of a whole with their civilian selves. yin and yang symbolism all around.

back to adrien as sunshine. before félix was introduced, adrien was established as the character in the show with the disney princess golden hair and golden smile, so it's easy to see where this fanon came from.

marinette describes her love for him as three suns in her heart.

then if we want to pair the sentitwins, and we think adrien is the sun, it makes sense for félix to be the moon.

some final evidence in support of this is mirror imagery. the same way the moon reflects the light of the sun, félix reflects adrien. both in his creation as a reflection of adrien's and in his behavior in the show. félix dresses as adrien in over half of his episodes.

but this picture is complicated by several factors. there's a fair amount of evidence that the twins are actually associated the other way around, with adrien as the moon and félix as the sun.

gold and silver color symbolism. one could easily think of gold as the sun and silver as the moon, but in the show, félix and the graham de vanilys are associated with gold and adrien and the agrestes are associated with silver. the wedding rings, the colors of their homes, their camouflaged miraculous, the lighting... anarchist gang talked about this a few months ago and i think nina may want to expand on what we discovered, so i will leave this to her.

another brief tangent here: white and black color symbolism. i have not fleshed out my thoughts on it but i am leaving notes here for future reference. adrien's civilian outfit features white, but this likely reflects gabriel's influence on him. his hero selves wear black. meanwhile, félix is introduced dressed in black and haloed in white as he enters gabriel's sphere. in the play, it's the opposite. at the diamonds' dance, he and marinette wear white and kagami, like lune rouge, wears red. obfuscation? femininity? yin and yang again?

and a third brief tangent here: when chat noir is unhealthy, he becomes chat blanc, who is white, and patte de velours, who is accented with gold. colors of entanglement? of influence? of inauthenticity? are félix's best parts adrien's idea of a perfect self? i am contemplating.

there are more significant reasons for moon adrien and sun félix. in important moments of the show, adrien is frequently associated with the moon. glaciator, chat blanc, kuro neko, new york special... and on the other hand, where does the sun play an important part of the story? in réplique, with félix.

narratively, sentitwins seem to have moon and sun roles. adrien is the one from whom things are hidden, while félix is the one who shines light on the truth. adrien spends most of his time as support, while félix is an active agent. adrien reacts to things, while félix makes them happen, for better or for worse.

nina has an entire essay on félix and the development of his sun associations from lune rouge to the sunrise in représentation, so i'll leave that to her to discuss.

all right. sentitwins are either sun and moon or moon and sun. what does this mean for them?

it intrigues me that adrien is viewed by fanon as the sun when he could be better described as the moon. adrien agreste enjoyers, please get on this.

here is a starting point for your thoughts. if adrien is the moon, it makes sense why he destroyed the moon in chat blanc when he was trying to destroy himself.

and if félix is the sun, it further puts into perspective why he felt guilty about réplique's fate. they were a sacrifice for his goals. he may has well have literally killed them.

role reversal and false impressions are prominent in sentitwins and this complicated picture adds to that.

frequently bought together. do not separate.

in conclusion, yes, autumn, this is most certainly something. fuck if i know what it is, but i love losing my mind about it.

#I'M SORRY I HAVE NO IDEA HOW THIS ENDED UP THIS LONG #also i have recently discovered the joy of answering asks and i am eating you for this one. eating you whole #miraculous ladybug #felix fathom #felix graham de vanily #adrien agreste #🌃 #🏮 #good lord i hope you enjoy at least some of this nonsense HAHE #ml meta

[heluvschibi]

Just like the stars

Idol!Felix x female reader.

Des:A camping trip. A camping trip with an idol, well friends ofc. When Felix asked you on a camping trip (date) you obviously had to say yes you haven't seen him in a long time! But when the tranquility of the night hit Felix like a truck carrying "confession" well...

･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆

Y/N's POV

Wasn't I just in bed, watching Marvel superheroes save the day? But now, here I am in a car, singing with Felix. What song? "Perfect Night" by LE SSERAFIM.

"I got all I need, you know nothing else can beat,The way that I feel when I'm dancing with my girls,Perfect energy, yeah, we're flawless, yeah, we're free,There's no better feeling in the whole wide world."

We sang together, him outshining me, no surprise, given I've never had vocal training.

"Felix, I'm really excited," I smiled at him, watching as he navigated the empty road, LE SSERAFIM still playing in the background.

He chuckled. "Well, I've been wanting to go camping, and I finally got some break time."

"Why didn't you invite any of the other members? Doesn't Lee Know enjoy camping? Or your Aussie brother?" I asked, my gaze drifting to the captivating ocean blue outside my window.

"Lee Know hyung said he wanted to spend time with his real cats… and Bang Chan hyung—I didn't ask," he shrugged, his hand briefly touching my thigh. I turned to look at him, met by his soft smile. "And I missed you the most…"

My cheeks warmed at his touch, his hand slowly leaving my leg as I continued to stare in shock.

"Take a picture; it'll last longer," he teased. I playfully hit his shoulder and let out a giggle.

"Go flirt with STAYs!" I rolled my eyes. He burst out laughing. I huffed and turned to the window, mumbling to myself.

･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆

Y/N's POV

We arrived at the campsite, and I was insisting about helping to pitch the tent, but Felix kept playfully dismissing my offers.

As night descended, the stars began to dot the sky like Felix's freckles, and we lit a fire, settling around its warm glow.

"S'mores!" Felix exclaimed, emerging from the tent with a bag of marshmallows, graham crackers, and chocolate. "S'mores will be the highlight of this trip!"

He sat beside me, tearing open the bag and playfully thrusting a marshmallow towards me, which I eagerly accepted. "Thanks, Lix," I said, my words muffled by the sweet treat. He handed me a metal rod, skewered with a marshmallow, and I held it over the fire, watching it toast to perfection.

The gentle crackling of the flames and the distant chirps of crickets only added to the ambiance. Once my marshmallow was perfectly golden, I assembled my s'more. "Yum! Felix, we should definitely make camping a regular thing," I said, turning to him with a contented smile.

His laughter filled the air. "What?" I asked, a playful pout forming on my lips.

"C'mere…" He beckoned, and as I leaned in, he tenderly wiped a smudge of marshmallow from my lip, then tasted it off his thumb. "Tasty indeed!"

My face flushed with warmth, much like earlier in the car, and he caught my flustered expression, chuckling. "Ooh, you're blushing," Felix teased. I frowned and gave his shoulder a light punch. "You're so cute!" he exclaimed, then pinched my cheeks affectionately. It reminded me of a grandma, so I obviously teased him back...serves him right.

"I should start calling you Halmeoni," I retorted with a smirk.

His hands retracted as he feigned offense, turning away and crossing his arms with an exaggerated huff.

"Oh, come on, Lixie… I'm sorry," I pleaded, placing a hand on his arm. He remained turned away, prompting me to whine. "Fine, I won't call you Halmeoni anymore!" "Promise?" he asked, his voice softening as he peeked back at me. I extended my pinkie. "I pinkie promise." His smile returned, and he faced me fully, our pinkies intertwining in a silent vow.

･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆

Felix's POV

After we finished with the s'mores, I tidied up. Stepping out of the tent, I found her sitting serenely in a chair, eyes closed, lost in the moment. I chuckled softly and took my place beside her, letting the gentle lapping of the lake's waves and the soothing crackle of the fire envelop us.

I love you…

"What?" Her voice was a whisper, her eyes meeting mine with a tender curiosity. "Did you say that, or am I imagining things?" The tranquility shattered, replaced by a sudden, icy dread. Had my thoughts slipped out loud?

"Hehe… what? 'I love you'?" I tried to deflect with a raised eyebrow, suggesting she was hearing things.

She giggled, a soft tap on my shoulder. "Felix, I know you said it." My laughter joined hers, a bit too forcefully, as I rubbed my hands together for warmth.

"N-no, why would I ever say that… t-to you especially! That's just crazy…" The words tumbled out, unbidden, and her expression morphed into one of confusion and hurt.

"Oh…" She bit her lip, turning away. "Yeah, why would you ever say that to me… it's just crazy." her voice breaking a little.

A frown creased my brow. I reached out, but she stood abruptly, stretching. "It's getting late… I'm going to sleep—" "Wait!"

She didn't face me, a classic move to hide her emotions. "Y/n, I didn't mean it like that," I said, standing to close the distance between us. I turned her gently to face me, her eyes downcast, arms wrapped protectively around herself. "I was the one who said 'I love you.'" My thumbs caressed her cheeks, lifting her gaze to meet mine. A single tear traced her cheek, and I caught it, my heart aching. "Please, don't cry," I whispered, pulling her into an embrace, one hand cradling her head, the other securing her close. "I love you, Y/n." As we parted, I searched her eyes for permission. "May I?" At her subtle nod, I leaned in, and our lips met in a tender, lingering kiss...

-A heart from Lixie

have a good day/afternoon/night!!!-Chibi

#stray kids #chibi posted!! #skz stay #lee felix #felix x reader #skz #felix stray kids #straykids #straykids fluff #lee felix x reader #fluff #Just Like The Starts FF #straykids felix #straykids x reader #straykids fanfic #felix lee

[robot-roadtrip-rants]

Fulgrim's toga

Ok I need to share this with y'all.

So during the war council about the war on Laeran, we get this description:

"The primarch wore a long flowing toga of pale cream, and the dark iron hilt of his sword, Fireblade, was visible at his hip, the blade itself sheathed in a scabbard of gleaming purple leather. The flaring wings of an eagle were embroidered in gold thread across his chest and a slender band of lapis lazuli kept his silver hair from his face."

So far so good. For those keeping track, Fulgrim probably looks something like this:

But as the council is wrapping up, this happens:

"'Then the word is given, Captain Kaesoron,' said Fulgrim, casting off his robes to reveal his magnificently polished battle plate."

There's a lot to unpack here. First of all, the usage of the word "reveal" implies that his armor was completely hidden. A toga very notably leaves half the chest uncovered. So Fulgrim isn't just wearing his armor beneath his toga, he's wearing it beneath his tunic. And remember...power armor is full plate. It covers more than a classical tunic-toga combination. Let's fix that image:

But even this image isn't enough. As @lolipop1920 points out, this is what Fulgrim's armor looks like:

I don't have the art skills to edit this properly, so I want you to pause for a moment and try to picture how a toga-tunic combo would look draped on top of all that. You can leave off the cape.

Yeah.

And remember, the text says describes this moment as a REVEAL. Apparently Fulgrim walked into a room with a tunic/toga pulled on over his POWER ARMOR, and nobody noticed.

But it gets better! Fulgrim casts off the whole ensemble to reveal his power armor! Again, this is what a toga looks like!

So either he unwound his toga and then pulled his tunic over his head...OR he just ripped the whole thing off his body.

Normally at this point I'd say, "Graham McNeill just doesn't know how this garment works." But check out this bit from a little earlier in the book:

"First Captain Julius Kaesoron was a man not used to conflicting emotions, which made his current situation deeply uncomfortable. Dressed in the triumphal purple of his toga picta and the martial red of his lacerna clock, he cut an imposing figure as he marched swiftly to the Heliopolis...A pendant of fiery amber hung around his neck and nestled between the carved pectorals of his golden breastplate."

Someone's been doing their research! I'd argue that most Westerners have some idea of what a toga looks like, it's a pretty iconic garment, but the different varieties of togas? The Latin name for the cloaks/capes that the Romans wore? Hell no.

(Also note that Kaesoron is also somehow wearing a breastplate with his toga. A toga picta is just a purple-colored toga with gold embroidery. It involves just as much complicated drapery as a regular toga--possibly more, since it's a very formal garment. I guess he could wear the breastplate over his tunic and under the toga, but that still seems like a weird combo).

So yeah, McNeill definitely knows what a toga looks like, and he still wrote this scene. And of all people it's Fulgrim who pulls off this fashion atrocity! FULGRIM! The primarch most famous for his style, elegance, and class. The peacock of 30k. That's the guy who just walked into a room with a tunic and toga pulled on over his goddamn power armor. This is at the war council for Laeran! He hasn't even set foot on the snake orgy planet! You can't blame this on Slaanesh!

#warhammer 40k #fulgrim #fulgrim (the book) #seriously what the fuck

[wolven91]

A love story between the human pianist and their alien counterpart (bodyguard or performer whichever I guess)

Lovers of Music

It was worth more than some ships.

Crafts that contained more advanced technology onboard than anything that could have existed back on earth. This one item could have been traded for one of them.

"How...?" The human uttered, more as a statement of shock than a real question. He approached and reached out to run their fingers across the otherwise immaculate curves. But they stopped, hesitating as if realising they were about to touch a museum piece.

"I bought it from a taurian. Apparently, they had filled their holds with all sorts of items. They didn't know what they had." Explained the noble.

Graham turned back to look up at his serpent guardian. A ssypno noble with golden scales who had joined the program to offer help. Forty sixth in line to his family's fortune, he had no delusions of being truly powerful or being able to be a figurehead. Instead, despite being able to live in luxury, Har'tress chose to work. Through his work, he met Graham.

It had been a long road and would be longer still, but he hoped that perhaps he could teach Graham that not all of the various races in the stars were as bad as each other. There was still good and caring people, even if they looked very different. The ssypno noted that the human had yet to touch it.

"It's yours."

The human's head whipped back to the ssypno in shock.

"What?!"

"It's yours. I got it for you. You can play it whenever you like." After a pause the ssypno continued; "I can have it moved to your room if you prefer?"

"But... I..." The human looked back around at the piano. It was beautiful. Graham couldn't see any damage to it, he doubted he'd see it even if it was. It was like seeing the countryside after being in a city for so long. Everything about it was precious.

A real piano, from earth, survived its destruction. 

"Please? If you're worried about the price, don't be. As I said, they didn't know what they had and if you wish to pay me for it, then I have a price in mind." The human looked up at the guardian and squared his shoulders.

"Name it."

The ssypno smiled and extended both sets of his right hands to gesture to the item.

"Please play me something..."

"Me? There's better players, I'm not that-"

"You spoke about how music brought you joy and allowed you to express yourself. That you would play just because, without 'sheets'. Please... I want you to express yourself."

There was no stool, probably left behind or not placed with it, but the human strolled over and touched the keys for the first time. It was black with a gold trim, the white and black keys seemingly immaculate.

He pressed one and the device, lovingly crafted trillions of miles away, sang and single note.

Graham held both hands over the keys and began a small tune. It wasn't in tune, he'd need to figure out the best way to get it back in top form with care, but as his fingers traced and ran up and down the keys, he glanced to his guardian, who in the sunlight that stream through the windows, sparkled and swayed with his eyes closed.

"I can do better... but I need to tune it. Can I... I may need to make a tool or two, but if I can get it up together, I promise I will play with our meal tonight."

The ssypno lowered himself to the human's level, who opened his arms and the pair embraced.

Graham still felt the pain of losing his planet and being sent to the far corners of the galaxy, but in Har'tress's actions, he took his first step towards actual healing.

Discord / AO3 / Ko-Fi / G Drive

#conservationverse #cuddleverse #human #hfy #haso #humans are space orcs #human x scalie #ssypno #snake

[roasting-aphobes]

*Obvious Neurodivergent Trait*

Me: Everyone does/feels this! There's no oportunity that I'm neurodivergent...

*In my second appointment of therapy*

Doctor: You know I usually don't make diagnoses-

Me: Oh shit--

#and then i thought #oh shit #neurodivergent #neurodiversity #actually autistic #actually bpd #actually disabled #autism #actually adhd #adhd #therapy #delete later maybe #autistic memes #adhd memes #bpd meme #neurodiverse memes #roasting aphobes #roasting-aphobes post #I want some Golden Grahams #🦖

[atinylittlepain]

Firehouse Harrington - New Beginnings - Chapter 1

Fireman!Steve x f!reader/f!oc

steve harrington masterlist

warnings | 18+ angst, descriptions of PTSD-like symptoms, smut

a/n | thank you all so much for your patience as i plotted this next period for steve and his girl. i've had a few folks ask if i'd do a taglist for this series, so if enough people express interest i will absolutely start one! thank you as always for reading <3

.......................

“Hey, golden girl! Wait up!” Shit. She has nearly made it out of the lab building when Thomas catches her, his voice resounding down the hall. She had been doing a decent job of avoiding him ever since their failed date, a month’s worth of dipping into empty classrooms and staying late to keep from seeing him. But today, she has finally slipped up, turning around and nervously fidgeting with the strap of her bag as he walks toward her. 

“You’re a hard girl to find. I’ve been looking for you, but you seemed to disappear on me.” She hums, trying to seem casual.

“Oh? I’ve just been really busy. Wrapping up senior year and all.” His dimple pops as he tilts his head at her.

“Busy, huh? Where are you headed right now? Can I walk with you?” Her stomach drops at his question.

“Um, I was actually just leaving for the day. I’m meeting some–”

“Let me walk you out. I’ve been wanting to talk to you again.” She huffs, realizing it’s going to be easier to give in than to keep making excuses for him to somehow ignore. She nods with a sigh, and he falls into step alongside her as they make their way toward the main exit.

“I heard you’ve already started working with Professor Graham. That’s awesome. How’s your thesis work going?” 

“Good, yeah. It’s all still preliminary stuff, but I’ve been–” For the second time, he cuts her off, and she has to fight against rolling her eyes.

“You’ll have to tell me more some time soon. This might be presumptuous, but are you doing anything tonight? It is Valentine’s Day after all.” Oh no, not presumptuous at all. She shoulders out of the front door, Thomas close on her heels before she finally turns around to look at him in the fading afternoon light.

“I have plans actually.” That doesn’t seem to deter him judging from the grin he’s still shooting her way.

“What? Movie night with your girlfriends?” She goes to answer him, but is promptly cut off by the low rumbling of an engine coming closer, both of their heads turning to see a motorcyclist pulling up to the curb. As the person on the motorcycle removes their helmet, it’s her turn to grin as Thomas’ face falls, his eyes darting between her and the bike.

“Bye, Thomas. Happy Valentine’s Day.” With that, she all but skips away from him and towards the low-thrumming bike.

“Hey, pretty. He giving you trouble?” She presses a few quick kisses to his lips, effectively drawing his attention away from Thomas as she brushes her thumb along his cheek.

“Hi, Stevie. No trouble, just annoying.” Steve huffs, eyes darting over her shoulder one more time to look at Thomas, but she’s quick to tug his chin back toward her.

“Steve, it’s fine. He’s just a total asshat.” He snorts at that, shaking his head as he looks at her through his lashes.

“Always with that mouth, huh? Alright, baby, let’s go before doctor asshat burns a hole through me with his eyes.” She laughs, glancing over her shoulder. Sure enough, Thomas is still watching them with a very furrowed look on his face, and it just makes her laugh harder as she turns back around to her man. She brushes his flopped-over waves out of his eyes as he grins at her.

“Helmet?” He nods, reaching back to pull out another helmet from the saddlebag and hand it to her. It was the only way she agreed to ever get on the thing with him, a project he had taken up after reading some book about zen and motorcycles that his therapist had recommended. So long as he always wore his helmet – the helmet that she specifically picked out for him because it was certified by the Brain Injury Association of America – she was just happy to see him so excited about something. 

She clicks her own helmet on before stumbling to throw her leg over the humming bike, hands quick to find purchase around Steve’s waist. She’d never admit it to him, but it’s always a bit thrilling, getting on the back of Steve Harrington’s motorcycle.

…

“Oh my god.”

“Do you like it?”

“This is like– the best thing I’ve ever eaten.” Steve has to hide his proud smile at her words behind a bite of pasta. He had wanted to do something really nice for his girl for Valentine’s, and had even begrudgingly called his mom to get the recipe for her famous spaghetti. Gina Harrington had been surprised to hear from her son, but had also chewed him out pretty quickly.

“Is this for a girl, Steven?” He was glad she couldn’t pick up on the way he was blushing over a landline.

“Well, she must be special if she’s got you cooking for her. When am I gonna meet this girl, huh? You should visit soon. I miss my baby boy.” 

He had barely made it out of the phone call alive, his mother somehow twisting a visit out of him for her birthday in March, with the hesitant promise that he’d bring his girl along to meet “la familia.” On his mother’s side, Steve came from pure Italian roots, and an extended family big enough to start its own circus. But, watching his girl smile around another bite of pasta was making the prospective trip home seem worth it.

As she finishes chewing, she quirks her eyebrow, pointing her fork at him.

“You’ve been holding out on me, Harrington.” He laughs, shaking his head, because truthfully, Steve’s never done anything like this for anyone. The closest he had come to something like this was heating up Campbell's chicken and stars for Robin when she had the stomach flu last year. And Thanksgiving, but he had really only helped with that. This one was all him, with a little assist from mama Harrington.

“It’s nothing, really. I’m just glad you like it, baby.” With that, she leans across the table and presses a smacking kiss to his lips, leaving him with what feels like a really dopey grin as she sits back in her chair.

“I love it. Thank you, Stevie.” During his “King Steve” days, Valentine’s had been an easy ticket to getting laid, nothing more. A well-timed box of chocolates and a bouquet of flowers and his night was made. He didn’t care for the holiday then, and he doesn’t really care for it now. But he cares for her, and because of that, for the first time ever, Steve tried really hard this Valentine’s Day. 

They both sit back with content sighs, warmed by the good food and the smiles they pass back and forth.

“Did I tell you I saw Eddie on campus the other day?” He groans at that. Eddie Munson is the last thing he wants on his mind right now. She giggles.

“I saw him walking across the quad. He didn’t seem to recognize me at first when I called out his name, but it clicked pretty fast I think. He asked me if I’ve been keeping you in line.” Steve lets out a huff, raising his eyebrows at her.

“And? What’d you tell him?” 

“Told him you’ve been keeping yourself in line these days, that you’ve been working really hard. And I may have invited him over for dinner this weekend.” Steve groans, opening his mouth to protest, but she’s having none of it.

“Steve, he’s your friend. And he just moved to a new city and started college for the first time. He could use all the help he can get, alright? Poor guy was looking a little lost.” She’s got that smug look on her face like she knows he isn’t going to say no to her. 

The dynamic in their relationship has certainly shifted, and while she has insisted this is a fresh start for them, Steve fears he may never make it up to her, for what he did and how he treated her. He’s trying “painfully hard,” words his therapist had used. Diligently doing his homework assignments, keeping all of his appointments with Dr. Staub, finding odds and ends projects to keep his mind busy, Steve has been walking the walk without a doubt. But he’s finding that the further along in therapy he gets, the harder it becomes, long dormant memories getting upturned that sting just as fresh as they did when they were made. 

Staub assures him it’s all a part of the process. That it will get worse before it gets better. But there are some things he can’t even talk about with Staub. What’s the therapy protocol for processing an interdimensional war that almost destroyed the world as they know it? The memories come in brilliant, painful flashes that leave him tired and muted. When she finds him like that, he chalks it up to a hard shift at the station or a touchy therapy session. She’s always soft with him during those times, and it in turn has softened him even more. He’s still rough around the edges, and snaps at her more often than he’d like to, but it’s clear to even him how much he’s changed, and he is at least proud of that. He just hopes it’s enough to make her stay.

…

“Just leave those, baby. Can get ‘em in the morning.” Steve tugs on her wrist, pulling her away from the sink full of dishes to guide them over to the couch. They settle down into each other easily, her head resting on his chest and his arm slung over her. It’s a position they have both gotten comfortable in, many nights ending in some sort of similar tangle. While it’s sweet, she can’t help being a little frustrated that it never turns into more.

She knows she had said she wanted to take things slow this time, but compared to how they used to be, this is practically glacial. It’s been a little over a month now, and the sweet kisses and closeness have been lovely, but she’d like the pace to pick up, even just a little bit.

“Steve?”

“Hmm?”

“I have a present for you too.” She lifts her head from his chest to see the furrowed look on his face. She can’t help the nervous laugh she lets out as she slowly stands from the couch. Steve’s grumbles of protest die in his throat when she starts to unbutton her jeans and shimmy them down her legs.

“Baby, what are you–”

“Just let me show you, Steve, please?” She can see the bob of his throat as he sits back, his eyes darting everywhere as she steps out of her jeans and quickly lifts her shirt over her head. It had been an impulse buy. She and her girlfriends had been doing some window shopping on her day off. The set had caught her eye in the display of a store she’d normally never enter, but with Valentine’s Day coming up, she decided to try something new. Something dark purple and satiny.

She swears Steve stops breathing for a moment, his eyes wide as he takes her in. It’s a bit overwhelming, the complete silence coupled with his unblinking gaze, and she starts to worry she just made a huge fool of herself, nervously wrapping her arms around her stomach.

“I-I’m sorry– this was silly– I should just–” He’s quick to cut off her mumbling, standing up and drawing her arms away, his fingers twining with hers.

“No! No, fuck– m’sorry, I just– are you trying to kill me right now?” She splutters out a laugh at his breathless question, heat rising in her cheeks. He lets go of her hands, his fingers ghosting over the tops of her breasts, the silky fabric pushing them up just slightly. When his gaze meets hers again, his eyes are blown out, dark and hazy.

“So beautiful, honey. Is this all for me?” She smiles, pressing her hands over his until his fingers are flexing into the swell of her breasts.

“It is, Steve. Do you like it?” He swallows hard as he bobs his head.

“Yes– it’s um– it’s– I like it– I like it a lot, fuck– could you– could you turn around for me? Let me see all of you?” She turns in his arms, grinning at the low curse he lets out as his fingers graze along the string waistband of her panties, before turning back around and wrapping her arms around his neck. She leans in to let her lips graze along his ear, his hands squeezing her waist as he lets out a harsh exhale.

“Happy Valentine’s, Stevie.” When he kisses her, it’s different, a little more of an edge, a little more hunger in the way he swipes his tongue along her lips and she opens up to him without hesitation. His broad palms are roaming her back, leaving light squeezes to the curve of her ass before trailing up her spine as she walks them back toward the couch. She lightly shoves him to flop back onto the couch as she kneels down between his spread legs. But as soon as she starts work at his belt buckle, Steve stops her, holding her wrists aloft between them.

“Hey, wait– you don’t have to do that, honey.” She rests her cheek on his thigh, trying to ignore the nerves that have settled back under her skin at his seeming rejection.

“I want to, Steve. Wanna make you feel good.” He sighs at that, his head hanging low as she tries to catch his downturned gaze. Now she’s starting to get worried.

“Steve?” 

“I just– I don’t deserve it– don’t deserve you– looking so pretty for me and everything.” Oh. She feels her heart sink, finally realizing what’s going on. He’s been doing so well, but she knows that Steve still beats himself up for what happened, how he had treated her. To an outsider, she thinks she probably looks like an idiot for taking him back, but she knows that how he was with her before was a reflection of calcified layers of his past. Cliche as it may be, those layers are crumbling, and she’s excited to stick around to see the Steve Harrington that survived underneath them, already catching glimmering glimpses.

She slips her hands out of his hold, both her palms resting on his thighs as she sits back on her knees. 

“Will you look at me, please?” He does, just barely, eyes meeting hers through his downturned lashes.

“I don’t know what exactly is going through your head, Steve. But I’m telling you that you do deserve to feel good. This is our fresh start, right?” That coaxes a small nod from him. She smiles, squeezing his thighs.

“Can I make you feel good now, baby?” He lets out a ragged sigh, sitting back into the couch as he fully looks at her.

“Whatever you want– I’m all yours, you know that.” It’s all she needs to hear, giving him one more smile as her hands slide from his thighs up to his belt. With a low murmured “hips up, Stevie,” his already hard cock bounces free from his shrugged down boxers and pants to rest against his tummy, smearing pre-cum over the bottom of his shirt. As she noses up the vein that trails the thick underside of him, he scrunches his eyes shut, hands clenching in his hair. She missed that look. 

She laps at his swollen tip, enjoying the way the muscles of his thighs tense and jump under her palms, before finally taking him into the heat of her mouth. Steve has always been a stretch, in more ways than one, and as she starts to work him over that familiar ache settles in the hinge of her jaw, her one hand coming to stroke what her mouth just can’t reach. 

“Oh fuck– s’really good– so good to me– fucking perfect, honey–” She missed that too, his broken praises and breathy moans encouraging her on, licking a hot stripe up his throbbing length that has him throwing his head back into the couch. 

“Wait– shit, you gotta stop.” She freezes immediately, pulling back with concern washed over her face. Steve just huffs.

“I want– I wanna feel you, please.” Suddenly, the dull ache that had settled in her core thrums brighter at his words as he’s already helping her up to straddle his thighs. He pulls her into a hard kiss, confidence clearly growing in his movements as his hands squeeze at the swell of her ass, rocking her against him.

“Can I touch you, honey? Get you ready for me, huh?” His words are a strange mixture of the old and new Steve, still a twinge of his cocky certainty laced with his new sweetness. It makes her thighs clench around him. She nods around a breathy “please,” and he finally gives her that dirty grin she remembers so well. 

His hand toys with the satin front of her panties, his palm dipping down to cup her heat through the fabric as she bucks into his grip. He lets out a harsh breath through his nose when he finally dips his hand underneath the fabric, fingers swiping through her folds as she mewls into his neck.

“Fuck, baby– so wet, huh? S’all for me?” She huffs out a pitchy “uh-huh” as he swipes over her clit before dipping a finger down to pump inside of her.

“Steve, more– please, baby.” He shushes her with a kiss to her sternum, adding a second finger to his steady rhythm as she grinds down onto his hand. 

“Always gotta spread you open first, huh, pretty? Get your perfect little pussy ready for me.” His words have her already teetering on the edge of release, her cunt fluttering around his deep stroking fingers as she digs her nails into his shoulders.

“Will you come for me, honey? Wanna see you so bad. Please, baby.” That’s new, and evidently all it takes to snap the snared pleasure pulled taut along her spine as she comes with a stuttered gasp of his name, her hips jerking as he works her through it.

“That’s it, honey. Fuck, you’re so beautiful like this.” She sighs when he finally takes his fingers away, her eyes widening when he sucks them into his mouth with a low groan.

“Missed that taste. Missed you– shit, I need you so bad.” She whimpers at his words. It’s a tangled mess, he tugs his shirt off over his head and she slips her panties to the side as he fists himself, lining his tip up with her clenching entrance. Ragged sighs run through both their throats as she starts to sink down onto him, the sweet burn of it making her dizzy as she seats herself fully on his thighs. She swears she can feel him twitch inside her.

“Shit– nothing feels like this– s’too good– too fucking good– can you move, honey, please?” She gives her hips a weak swirl, both of them gasping as he grazes even deeper inside her. She’s all but collapsed into him, hiding her face in his neck, her arms clinging around his neck as she tries to bounce on his cock.

“Steve, please– I need– need you to–” He shushes her, pressing a kiss to her temple as his hands firm up on the curve of her ass. 

“I got you, honey– gonna give my girl what she needs, huh?” His hips tilt, thrusting up inside her as he holds her steady against him. His name is a breathless chant on her lips as he finds a pace, her hips grinding down into his with each thrust.

They’ve both needed this for a while now, and it’s clear in the sloppy tempo and how close they both seem to that cliff of pleasure already. She pulls away from him to smear her lips against his in what could only barely be called a kiss with the way they’re both panting into each other.

“So fucking close, honey– wanna feel you– c’mon, I know you can– come for me, pretty.” One of his hands comes around to splay over her hip, his fingers dipping down to circle her clit and it’s enough to have her falling into pleasure for a second time, spasming hard around him. Steve is quick to follow, holding her hard against his chest, as his warmth spreads through her, a low curse fizzling out on his lips as he buries his face in her chest. 

They stay like that for a while, trying to steady their heaving breath in each other’s arms. She rakes her fingers through his mussed hair and he tilts his chin up to look at her with blown-out eyes.

“I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Stevie.” 

As they get cleaned up, gentle touches in the shower and smiles through the warm steam, she can’t help but think about how different that had been. She knows sex isn’t all about control, but it had certainly felt like she had more of it, that Steve was the one waiting for her to call the shots. It was different, but after all, they are different.

Different is good, right?

#steve harrington fluff #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington angst #steve harrington #steve harrington au #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things

[threadsun]

*Ping*

Maybe it wasn't my best idea.

*Ping*

Giving him a cellphone.

I mean, my budget can allow it. I had to give up my weekly, day off, take out order. And cancel that tv subscription I never use.

*Ping*

And having a literal ghost hovering over my shoulder at work, interjecting commentary and jokes while I tried to be serious at work is not great.

*Ping*

But this...

*Ping*

This was something else.

I had hoped that the phone would ease the separation anxiety. Or the games would occupy his time. Maybe even some research and Google searches would keep him distracted long enough, learning about th modern day. There had to be at least 30 unread messages waiting to bombard me when I finally go on break.

*Ping*

Make that 31....

"You're certainly popular today!" My coworker commented, half heartedly wiping at the toppings counter, only succeeding in spreading the graham cracker crumbs into the sprinkle tin. "Group chat?"

"No... Just a friend."

"Uh huh... Well, clock out for your break, see what all the fuss is about. Might be important."

I highly doubt that, but thanks anyway. It's an effort to keep the words behind my teeth. Shuffling out the back door, I finally unlock my phone, and read the novel awaiting me.

I hope you have a good day, Sunshine!

Make sure you drink plenty of water!

Is anyone giving you trouble? I can be there in no time!

Someone texted me about my cars extended warranty?

Look at this cute picture I took of the pigeons outside!

Do you want me to cook you dinner tonight? I'm sure you're tired after working so hard today.

I miss you Sunshine, I hope you're not lonely without me.

There were a few pictures interspersed between the texts, and oh, look, he discovered memes.

I'm good, Jack. Works been slow. Lots of cleaning.

Barely a minute passed after sending my text, when my phone started ringing.

"Hi, Sunshine!" I could picture that blinding smile of his when I answered the call.

"Hey, Jack."

"I hope you're not calling me while you're working, that's against the rules." It's playful, his scolding, and I roll my eyes but smile.

"Nope, on my break. Listen, I appreciate you checking up on me, but your blowing up my phone dude."

"Oh... I'm sorry. I just miss you, is all." Great, now I feel like an ass.

"Your fine, just... maybe take the enthusiasm down a notch? I don't really get calls, or messages like that. And in the past if I do, it's usually something important or life threatening." Which led to my previous blunder of answering *his* call....

"Alright, Sunshine, I'll try to only send you things if it's important."

"I'll message you when I'm on my breaks, okay? Then you can blast my phone with pictures of birds."

"Weren't they the cutest?!" I spend the next few minutes listening to the golden retriever man gush about the birds starting to build a nest on my window ledge, before letting him know I need to get back to work.

"Aaaw, that's too bad. Well, the sooner you get in, the sooner you get home! I'll make you something tasty for dinner tonight!"

I guess having an undead houseguest isn't too bad

...

Uber prices were way to high to justify a ride, but the walk home isn't long, and the sky was still light enough to be safe.

I can hear Jack's worried tone in my head. Fretting.

*Ping*

That was probably him now.

The preview of the text popped up on my phone.

An old hook-up, one from after.... After.

Back in the city, wanna meet up?

With a nice picture, nothing but steam and a towel.

... Could be fun.

Unlocking my phone, I peruse my saved photos, looking for the batch of pictures I took one night, half drunk and barely dressed up, black lace and fishnets bought during Halloween. Sending it, I wait for him to respond....

Only to see pictures of a half built nest on a brick ledge above my semi debauched photo.

"SHIT!"

I have never sprinted so fast in my life.

My legs are up distance like the devil himself was on my heels, ignoring the elevator, and taking the stairs two by two. I'm sure I'll get a noise complaint. Fumbling with my keys, the front door flung open, and I could just hear the clattering of dishes over my panting.

"Sunshine? Is everything- Oh!" I dove at him, manhandling his pockets until I found his phone in his back pocket. He didn't bother with a lock, and it was easy to find our chat, and delete the text. Hopefully before he had seen it. I close out the screen, holding his phone out, unable to meet his no doubt worried gaze. His forever gloved hands rested on my shoulders. "Did something happen? Are you okay?"

"Y-yeah... just, had to do something to yout phone. Update! Just... didn't want to forget. I'm super tired from work, and yeah, was afraid I'd forget." The lie was weak, and I knew my face was burning red, but Jack merely pulled me into a huge, resting his cheek on my head.

"Thank you for helping, but you didn't need to stress yourself! You look exhausted! Why not go on and take a shower, dinners almost ready and we can settle down and watch something together!" I nodded against his chest before backing away, averting my eyes. God that was embarrassing.

"Did you... have you been on your phone in the past like... twenty minutes?"

"Hmm? Oh, no, I've been busy cooking! Why? Was it the update?"

The relief made me feel light headed.

"Yeah. Update. I'm... gonna go shower. Dinner... smells great." I quickly made my exit, ready to sit in the shower and pretend this never happened. Thankfull it wasn't worse.

Maybe if I hadn't been so embarrassed, I would have noticed how hungry Jack looked.

...

Jack smiled, watching his Sunshine scamper away, the flush on her face bleeding down her neck.

He had just enough time to... Season his Sunshine's food before she had rushed into the apartment.

That little surprise he got was saved between photos of pigeons and bird nests.

But now, he wondered, who had she meant to send that lovely photo to?

And where was she hiding that beautiful outfit?

Oughhh love this!!!!

#swwsdj #something's wrong with sunny day jack #sdj jack #sunny day jack x reader #gn!reader #18+ only

[suchawrathfullamb]

Darling Machine - Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter

The marble floor was freezing against his feet, despite the scorching heat outside that had him shaking. Will went to the sink, dunked his head, and let water run through his fingers like he had nowhere else to be. Which was very much not the case.

Letting out a resigned sigh, he checked himself out in the gold-framed mirror. Good enough. Nervously tapping his fingers on the sink, he tried to slow his breath, hoping to calm the pounding in his chest.

"It's fine. Everything is fine. I'm gonna be fine," he muttered, sounding more like a lunatic than someone consoling themselves. Three knocks on the door made his heart skip a beat. "It's time," some lady's voice said from outside. Another sigh, and he walked out into the fancy hotel suite.

A pile of clothes waited on the king-size bed, so he changed his shirt for the third time – the last one soaked in sweat. Buttoning up, he sprayed on something-something "Black Orchid" from the dresser and chugged his fourth water bottle in under thirty minutes.

Another knock, but this time the door swung open by itself, revealing a short brunette who barged in. "Number 34, let's go," she said, waving him along.

"Sorry, I'm—"

She shot him a quick look, sighed, and walked into the suite. "It's fine, just take these," she said, handing him a pill.

He eyed it suspiciously. "Just a light sedative," she reassured. "Everyone takes it. It's fine, just hurry up."

Dry-swallowing the pill, he followed her, shoving on his shoes as he walked out of the room.

The lady led the way, and Will trailed behind, surrounded by a mix of arrogant and fearful glances from the other contestants. He avoided direct eye contact, hoping the sedative would kick in soon.

They walked through a grand, golden elevator, went down a flight of marble stairs, and navigated a seemingly endless corridor before entering a colossal audience room. The mostly empty seats had a few people bustling around, observing as Will and the others made their way onto the stage.

Instinctively, he dodged as a tiny hand touched his face. A petite, red-haired woman stood in front of him, fussing over his hair. "Relax, just hair and makeup," she announced. He nodded, turning his gaze back to the audience below, where judgmental eyes scrutinized him.

Old. Disgusting.

His heart threatened to start pounding again, but the pill was working its magic, gradually calming him down. Despite the sweaty palms and weak legs, the massive, scorching light above him didn't help. Surveying the room, everyone looked good, polished. He felt like a complete mess. Maybe he was self-sabotaging on purpose? Yeah, perhaps. And maybe it was for the best; he didn't want this anyway. Before his mind could continue its internal debate, a voice boomed through a microphone.

"We're ready," Will glanced around and spotted a guy on a podium.

They started pouring in, filling the room and taking their seats. Oh god, oh god, this was really happening.

"Good evening, ladies and gentleman. I am your host, Jack Crawford, and I'll be guiding this fun journey we have ahead of us. Please grab your credentials, take your seats and… Welcome to Darling Machine,” Jack shouted, all pumped up and waving his arms towards the big, block letters in neon, above the stage where “Darling Machine” flickered. A loud song blasted through the speakers, practically bursting Will's eardrums.

“Let's begin, shall we?” Jack announced, but Will realized he missed a chunk of the introduction, barely had time to prepare, and it was already kicking off. He cleared his throat and straightened his back.

“Number one, please, come up,” Jack called, holding out a hand as some dark-haired dude strutted up the podium, under the harsh spotlight.

“Number one is thirty-two years old, a native English speaker, an Aquarius, and a dancer,” Jack chuckled. "A dancer? Very nice, very nice, number one."

They went on about useless details, everyone clapping, a few hands raised. “Very well, number one, you may go this way,” Jack informed, leading Number One off the stage. Will watched as the same brunette lady from earlier directed him to a room with the people who raised their hands.

They moved on to Number Two, Three, Four, Five… Number Six left crying because no hands were raised. Will's heart sank at the thought of that humiliation. He zoned out through Numbers Seven to Thirty-Three and snapped back when he realized he was next in line.

“Number Thirty-Four. Please, come up,” Jack held out a hand, and Will took it carefully.

Squinting at the blinding spotlight, Will barely caught Jack announcing his information. “Native English speaker, twenty-eight years old, athletic, an Aries, uh, fiery,” Jack teased, but Will couldn’t even force a smile. His ears blocked out the rest as he scanned the seats, thinking, who’s the least terrible one? As he was jolted back to reality, he saw a surge of hands. Surprised, he was led off the stage.

“This way,” the brunette said, guiding him.

He entered a wooden room with a big table, like a meeting room. Automatically moving to sit after standing on stage for a while, the lady took him by the elbow.

“No, no,” she said, dragging him. “You stand here, just a minute,” and she placed him at the center of the room, on the edge of the big table.

He waited a few minutes, people filing in, straightening himself up. He glanced at them but quickly turned his eyes to avoid direct contact. There were a lot of them, all taking seats while scrutinizing him. His hands got sweaty, heart raced, trying to catch a breath. He sighed deeply, swallowing hard.

“Shall we begin?” some other guy asked, standing next to him. “Alright, Mrs. DuMarier, please.”

Will's eyes darted up to quickly inspect who this was. A tall, blonde woman, probably in her forties, raised a whiteboard with “$100k” written in sharpie on it.

“We’re starting at a hundred thousand. Yes, Mr. Brown?” the guy directed his question to a dark-haired guy, couldn’t be more than thirty-something. Mr. Brown had “$400k” on his board.

“Four hundred, excellent. Yes, Miss Verger?” a very pretty and small woman, probably around Will’s age. She went for $700k.

Will tried to distract himself by studying the faces around the table. He was already feeling what he was told he would feel: dull, void. Blocking out emotions so you don’t feel the dread.

They spent a while raising boards, already past two million dollars. The guy leading the whole thing left the room and came back with a bunch of people, all standing at the door, looking curious.

“New record, impressive,” he heard someone say. Will didn’t know what to feel, what to think. Again, he was starting to understand why they all became so empty and dead-eyed.

As he looked at the people around the door, he spotted a guy leaning by the door. Tall, wearing a sleek navy and tailored suit that made his biceps pop out. Strangely attractive face, sharp and bold, pursed lips, eyes calm and squinting at him with a slightly tilted head. He averted his gaze when he realized he’d been staring probably open-mouthed.

At that point, they were reaching the five million mark, and suddenly his heart sank as they stopped raising boards. Who won? Oh my god, who won? Will's head nervously searched the room and regained focus as a man, looking slightly older than him, raised from his seat.

“Mr. Tobias Budge, congratulations… You have our most valued darling,” the guy announced.

Will felt a cold wave coursing through his whole body as Tobias Budge approached him, with a sinister satisfied look on his face. His arms were starting to raise to touch Will, and Will imagined his face didn’t betray the nauseating feeling he had inside. But before the man could touch him, a strong voice came up:

“I want him.”

Will immediately searched and found: the door guy. Oh god.

“Sorry, Tobias. May I?” the man said, reaching for Will’s card.

“You can’t just take him because you’re producing,” Tobias said, slightly annoyed.

“I’m not taking. I’ll raise whatever number you have,” the man said plainly.

Will just kept staring back and forth, as did the rest of the room.

“Well, it’s settled, then?” the other guy asked, looking at both. Tobias nodded, annoyed, as the other man nodded, signing his name on Will’s card.

“Congratulations, Mr. Lecter,” he said, and the whole room applauded with a seemingly jealous attitude, while some exchanged sly glances, laughing.

Will wanted to run fast and throw himself out of that window on the other side of the room. Should I invest time in this fic?

#lamb writes #don't worry darling #fic #fanfic #writing #writers #fic writer #hannigram #fic rec #nbc hannibal #hannibal #will graham #murder husbands #hannibal lecter

[godneuteredmeforbeingtoopowerful]

CW: discussions of child neglect, food policing, abusing autistic children, fatshaming

I’ve always been confused why I have food insecurity trauma behaviors, but my family has always had the privilege of having enough food and money and whatever else. I was reflecting on this with one of my partners this morning, and realized that my parents had a lot of rules around eating that other people… didn’t? So I wanted to share some of them and… idk. I just don’t want to feel alone. Also, understanding that I am (undiagnosed as a child) autistic with sensory issues that sometimes explode into ARFID, is vital to this conversation and adds a whole other layer. Again, CW ahead.

We always had ingredients, not pre-prepared meals. And you couldn’t eat things bc they were an ingredient

Things like cheese you could snack on but you could only have a little. If you’re hungry, eat a fruit or a vegetable (notoriously some of the worst things for textural sensory issues.)

Pre-packaged snacks have a purpose- if we’re leaving the house, or if you want to take one to school. You may have one snack after school, but there’s a specific amount you’re allowed to have, and it cannot be pre-packaged. I was banned from goldfish for a period of years bc I kept ignoring the rule with it. (I was unwittingly self-medicating for POTS, because it was the saltiest thing I was allowed. The diagnosis came years later.)

Sugar was evil. I could have it several times a week, but only as dessert. I had no say in what dessert was or when. If I asked for it, the answer would automatically be no. Breakfast cereal, one of my only safe foods that I could count on, was not allowed to contain more than 8-9 grams of sugar. That ruled out things like fruity pebbles, my favorite cereal. Occasionally this rule would be broken for things like Golden Grahams, because my dad liked them, but not for anything else unless it was a special occasion.

If you miss your time slot during the day, you just don’t get that thing: i.e. snack time is from 3-4pm. If you don’t eat then, you can’t eat until dinner at 6. No food after dinner. No food between 8am and noon. No food between 1 and 3. This schedule was only allowed to deviate if mom deviated from it.

Also, if you don’t like what’s been prepared for a meal, too bad. Eat it or eat nothing.

In a similar vein, if you don’t eat all of your lunch at school, the leftovers are now your snack after school the next day so mom can watch you eat it. It was supposed to teach me to eat all my food at school. Instead I just learned to throw food away.

Foods other kids got a lot, we didn’t really. They were only for car trips or birthdays, so a few times a year. Things like chips, soda, cracker jacks, etc.

Since safe foods were policed so heavily, I learned to eat a shit ton when I could, so I could make it through potentially not eating anything else substantial until the next day, or even several days. This was usually breakfast cereal, which was guaranteed, and snack time food, which was usually something like popcorn or peanut butter celery (which I did like) or pretzels or yogurt. Hated trail mix and granola bars with a passion. This got me consistently criticized for “eating like a pig” or “wasting food” or “eating up money” when I would have 2 bowls of cereal for breakfast, especially in middle school and high school. But if I wasn’t really eating anything else during the day, and I ran out of energy from those 2 bowls by 10am, what else was I supposed to do but take it?

There was also a lot of competition for getting ahold of my safe foods when they were in the house- because I have 3 siblings. So I grew a habit of stealing and hoarding food in my room- even though that was strictly forbidden. I got busted often, but I was fucked otherwise. Or when we had things like pizza for dinner or other safe foods, I’d have several helpings (consequently getting fatshamed) because I wouldn’t know when I’d have a pleasant sensory experience again, or when I’d get to really eat again.

Also, had to clean my plate whenever I complained about dinner. Think I got bungee corded to the chair once. Had to sit at the dinner table past my bedtime a few times because the lasagna or avocado was too much and I’d puke. And then get verbally abused for it. They stopped that with my siblings. They were allowed to have pb&j after eating 3 bites, but only pb&j. What I would have given for that when I was a kid.

Anyway. Any solidarity is unfortunate but appreciated. A bit sobering now that it’s all listed out like that.

#actually autistic #vent post #child neglect #food policing #eating disoder trigger warning #eating disorder #child abuse #fatphobia #body shaming #exmo #autism #did system #pro endo