#sugar series

[galacticgraffiti]

❁ Sugar (I've developed a taste for you) ❁

!!! NSFW ⋆ 18+ ⋆ Minors DNI !!!

Summary: Astarion asks for a favour and ends up getting more than what he bargained for (or: I'm a lesbian but this fictional little vampire twink can get it)

Rating: Explicit (for eventual smut) Wordcount: 2.4k Descriptors: I try to keep my reader-inserts fairly neutral, but let me know if anything slips through the cracks! Astarion is his usual self, pathetic and awful yet somehow also lovable as fuck. CW: bad flirting, friends with benefits (and the benefit is bloodsucking lol), blood, blood drinking, biting, hint of praise kink, eventual proper smut, nicknames, so much innuendo

✦⋆ Main Masterlist ⋆✦⋆ If you prefer AO3 ⋆✦

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Chapter 1: My my, those eyes like fire

He could be lovely if he wasn’t so self-involved.

That is the first thought you have when you meet Astarion. He is not downright mean, but something about him just bugs you. He flirts with every creature on two legs (sometimes even those with more), but that’s not it.

Something about all his honeyed words just feels so… insincere. 

You think Astarion has something to hide, and you desperately want to know what it is. So far, he has shown no signs of weakness, and he is as much as self-entitled twat as when you first met him. And this continues to be your opinion of him… up until today.

The day has been hard. Your feet hurt, your hands have blisters, and you are smeared with blood pretty much all over. Your shirt has been ripped and frankly, you don’t know when you might find the time to mend it. There is a giant bloodstain on the thigh of your trousers, and you are pretty sure your hair has become completely encrusted in blood quite some time ago.

But you have made it back to camp and that is all that counts.

As you shake out your bedroll and try to ignore the fact that this is the seventh night in a row that you’ll have had bland stew for dinner, you catch Astarion’s eyes across the fire.

His gaze is… odd.

You have seen him in the heat of battle, you’ve seen the glint in his eye when he comes up with another of his devious plans. You’ve even seen him amused, shaking with laughter when Gale recited an - admittedly very ambiguous - poem to you.

But you have never seen him like this. It’s not affection, nor is it desire that lights up his delicate features. He almost looks… desperate. Like he is starving for something, and you can’t place your finger on what it is.

As soon as Astarion notices that you have caught him, his eyes flick away. He saunters off, way too casual to not be obvious about it.

You stare after him, vaguely confused. But then, Karlach makes her way over to ask for more stew, and you forget all about it. For the moment.

Her smile makes your belly flutter, and you wish you knew more about her, and so you do your best to make conversation, joking and asking shallow questions.

Astarion’s eyes haunt you through dinner.

Even though the day was exhausting, the nights in your little camp are starting to grow on you. Gale is funny in his own, book-wormish way. You have learned that Karlach is downright hilarious in her joy about the world outside of Avernus, and Wyll is always scandalised by her, which is admittedly quite fun to watch. Lae’zel and Shadowheart keep to themselves a bit more, but even they share the meals with the rest of you.

You laugh when Karlach imitates Wyll’s horrified expression, but in spite of yourself. your eyes keep wandering to the silver hair of your elven companion who is sitting across from you.

Astarion is staring at you again, his eyes focused on some point below your jaw. He is watching you intently, seemingly unaware you have caught him. He doesn’t blink, doesn’t look away - he just stares at you as your spoon scrapes along the bottom of your bowl.

Only when you get up to wash off before you go to bed does he move again.

Sometimes, Astarion reminds you of a scared animal in the way he moves, his eyes flicking back and forth, his hands trembling slightly whenever he is not in battle. He hides right out in the open, behind his swagger and his dirty jokes and innuendos, behind his beautiful face and his beautiful body.

Tonight, though, even in all his desperation, Astarion is not prey. He is a predator. And like any talented predator, he has managed to get his prey away from the protection of the group.

You are kneeling in the small stream that runs by the camp, washing your bowl, your clothes, yourself - everything is dirty and soaked in mud, sweat and blood. You are barely wearing anything, but your companions have seen you in much more precarious situations at this point.

Astarion approaches quietly, sneaking up on you in that manner where you can never tell whether it is intentional or not. He is just… there, suddenly, shedding his clothes next to you, blood still smeared on his pale skin.

He stops short of the water, watching you from the riverbank. You try not to gawk as he undresses, but something about him seems unusually anxious. The way he pushes hit foot forward so slowly, testing the water, makes you wonder if he might not know how to swim.

Astarion smiles suddenly, taking a step into the stream and towards you, then another, his smile growing the deeper he wades into the water. Dark red streaks appear in the water where the blood is washed from his pale skin.

He clears his throat and raises a sharp brow.

“And how are you feeling tonight, sweet thing?” he inquires. His eyes flick over your body, focusing on a point below your ear for a moment before he rips his gaze away again.

“‘M alright,” you answer, brow furrowed as you scrub your shirt a little harder than you actually need to. Why he has to be so infuriating with his nicknames, you’ll never know. “Today was… a lot. I wanted to have a quiet moment.”

“Ah.”

He doesn’t seem to get the hint. He merely wades further into the stream, shimmering pearls of water running down his back. When you don’t say anything else, he turns to face you once again.

“Are you not going to ask me how I am, darling?”

“Wasn’t planning on it,” you mumble, throwing your shirt to the side, Clearly, you’re not getting anywhere with it tonight.

“Tsk, so rude. Somebody should really teach you some manners.” He clicks his tongue at you like you are an insubordinate child, shaking his head until droplets hit you.

You press your lips together. If he wasn’t so beautiful, he wouldn’t get away with half the things he does, and it frustrates you to no end. You catch yourself forgiving him on occasions where you don’t mean to, simply because his face is the prettiest things you have ever seen, and you hate it.

Astarion watches you carefully, gauging your mood. You stare back at him defiantly. What the hell could he want from you, anyway?

The hunger in his eyes is back, you notice - that desperation that you can’t quite place. There is a pained expression around his mouth, and despite all his cockiness, he is clearly not doing entirely well - his skin even paler than usual, his hands shaking a little when he crosses his arms.

Astarion yawns, his gaze raking over you in a way that makes you shiver. You tell yourself it’s just the cold of the water.

“Well, I was going to ask you for your help, but you are in a terrible mood.” He inspects his fingernails, and even though you know exactly that he is baiting you, you can’t help yourself.

“You? Need my help? Never thought the day would come.” Your voice is biting, but you can’t hide the note of curiosity that sneaks in.

“Don’t make me out to be such a horrible companion.” Astarion takes a step closer to you through the water. You take a step back. He laughs, but his eyes catch on your neck again. “I’m not that bad, am I?”

You shrug.

“Sometimes you are.”

“Hm.” He raises his brows, and takes another step towards you. This time, you don’t step back. “Well, I suppose that can’t be helped, my love. We all have good and bad days, don’t we?” He cocks his head. “And today has been quite hard for me.”

You make a non-committal noise, staring him down. What in the hells is he trying to do? Seduce you?

Your body likes that thought much more than your mind does.

Astarion is watching you intently. He stretches out his hand to take yours, and in your surprise, you don’t even pull back. His thumb rests right against the delicate inside of your wrist, and he closes his eyes.

You wait for him to drone on about how he carried your group on the battlefield, to gloat that you now owe him your life seven times over, but he doesn’t. Astarion stays eerily still, breathing deeply as his thumb strokes your wrist, pressing against your pulse point.

You can’t keep quiet any longer, not with the odd way he is behaving. Maybe he got hit by a spell, or…

“Any reason today was particularly hard for you?” You meant to sound sarcastic, but the question comes out sounding sincere. You scold yourself for caring so much.

Your skin burns like fire where he is touching you. Astarion’s eyes open, and he looks at you like he was a million miles away. He is so close now - much closer than you realised. You can see the fiery ring around his irises.

“I…” To your surprise, his voice is hesitant and quiet. “It’s easier to just… show you. You see, I need something from you, my darling.”

You frown.

“Why ask me? You could ask any of us, and most of them would be more inclined to help than I am. I’ve seen the way that Gale watches you at the fire-”

“Gale?” Astarion sounds genuinely amused. “Darling, do you think I’m asking you for sexual favours right now?”

“I- yes?” Your voice is full of uncertainty. “I mean… is that not what you were going to say?”

Astarion smiles, small and sharp.

“No.” He is even closer to you now, his thumb still caressing the skin of your wrist. “Even though I would not be disinclined if you offered… you are quite beautiful, you know?”

“Mh. Thank you?” You wish your heart would not beat faster at the way he looks at you. It’s a look that doesn’t fit the words that fall from his lips, a look that betrays the desperation with which he needs this favour. “What-”

“What I am asking for is simple.” He is so close now he could kiss you if you leaned in. “All I want is… a taste.”

“I- what?”

His lips are on your neck, his hand in your hair. You are not quite sure when that happened.

“Say yes, sweet thing,” he breathes. “Just a taste of your blood and-”

“My blood?” You sound more distraught than you actually feel. You are… oddly resigned. You should have seen this coming - you knew something was up with him, you knew he wasn’t telling you the whole truth.

And now, here you are. With a fucking vampire. His lips graze your pulse point, and your heart beats faster. You can feel the heat of his breath when he utters a single word.

“Please.”

It’s that one word that changes everything. Just like that, he has you. All the arrogance, all the superiority is gone from his voice, and what is left is just hunger and the fear that you might reject him. For a moment, you are sure you must have imagined it, but then, Astarion repeats himself.

“Please.” His hand tightens around your wrist, though he is trembling more than you are. “Just a taste, no more.”

Your lips are numb when you answer, your mind screaming at you not to let him- this is dangerous, this is stupid- you have already lost so much blood in the fight today and-

“Yes.” Your hands are on his shoulders, then in his silver hair. He smells so good; even after this horrid day. Your voice is softer than you intend for it to be, but his desperation makes you weak. “If you need it, it’s yours.”

Astarion makes a sound that shatters you, and before you can think too much about your own colossal stupidity, his fangs sink into your neck. 

It’s not painful.

It’s uncomfortable, but the fear that bites into your heart ebbs after mere seconds. Astarion’s hands are surprisingly warm against you, keeping you upright. Your head falls to the side, granting him easier access and - oh.

Why does it feel so good?

You become acutely aware of your blood flowing from the small puncture wounds in your neck, and for a moment, you panic, stiffening in Astarion’s arms.

“There, there, sweet thing.” His lips don’t raise an inch from your neck. “It’s alright, just trust me. Just a taste, all I want is a taste…”

Your head is swimming.

“You have tasted me,” you whisper, trying to pull away. When you look into Astarion’s eyes, there is a red glint in them - and a sadness that overwhelms you.

“No taste of you will ever be enough.” Astarion looks up at you from beneath long lashes. “You are divine, my love.”

The tip of his tongue wets his lips, licking up the small droplets of blood that linger.

You stare at him, trying with all your might to focus.

“You said… just a taste. No more than you need.”

His finger traces your jaw, down your neck, and your whole body is on fire.

“If it were up to me, I would need all of you,” Astarion sighs, his lips on your neck again, his tongue lapping at the blood that flows from the wound he has given you. “I would take and take, and give you so much in return. I would have you in ways you did not even know you wanted. Taste everything you have to offer.”

You shiver when he raises your wrist to his mouth, soft lips pressing to delicate skin.

“I would cherish you, keep you. My little pet, so perfect, so beautiful in every way. So eager to give what I need. Would you give me more if I asked?”

“Of course,” your lips say even though those were not the words you were planning to utter. But how could you ever say no to him? “If that’s what you need.”

Astarion’s sigh is one of rapture and delight.

“So obedient for me… You know, all these days I thought you hated me.” He chuckles to himself. “I suppose even I can be wrong sometimes.”

His teeth sink back into your neck, and the world goes dark.

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>> Next Chapter

HELLO MY DOVES i finally found time to format this for tumblr so here you go, for those who are not in love with the bear, you can get the twink, as a treat.

@deewithani @ficsbynight @kote-wan @ariadnes-red-thread @rescuethewretched @twistedstitcher27 @kakashibabe02 @writingbylee @purgetrooperfox @basilbumble @witchklng @lackofhonor @ashotofspotchka @sailor-blossom @misogirl828 @amyroswell @darkjedipoptarts @pinkiemme @sleepingsun501 @fett-djarin @samanthacookieone @tortor-mcgee @corrabell @queen--kenobi @elegantduckturtle @felinaone @palpipeen @wild-karrde @obeydontstray @nomercyforthewarrior @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @thefact0rygirl @everythingyouwanted @equalityforcats @cagrame @ladykatakuri @snakerune @shadesofshatteredblue @100lxtters @damerondala @tachyon-girl @rintheemolion @pickleprickle @mando-amando @certified-anakinfucker @baba-fett @ulchabhangorm

#bg3 #astarion #bg3 astarion #baldur's gate #baldurs gate 3 #astarion smut #bg3 smut #YA WELCOME #astarion x reader #astarion x you #sugar series #gala writes

[its-all-stardust]

Sugar || 5

Masterlist || Part Four || Part Six

Steven Grant/Sugar Mommy!Reader

Word count: 3.2k

Series Summary: You meet Steven in a museum gift shop and feel an instant connection. Before you walk out the door you decide, perhaps against your better judgment, that you need him to be your sugar baby. Now you just need him to let you treat him right.

Notes: I'll admit, this chapter isn't my favorite but it works lol. it's mainly here to establish certain things to make it easier for me in the future, so sorry if it's not as good as the others!

You call Steven immediately, but he doesn’t answer. Hanging up without leaving a message, you text him.

Is everything okay? You quickly type. You don’t want to immediately ask why he left. Maybe he was uncomfortable staying the night but didn’t want to say anything.

But then, why did he ask to kiss you again before you left him for the night?

As frustrating as it is for Steven to pull such a vanishing act, it hurts worse. You’re so attached to him already, and the thought that you might have done something to upset him or that he might not want to be around you is crushing.

There’s no immediate response to your text, and you try not to let this minor hiccup affect you. Surely something must have happened for Steven—sweet Steven, who apologizes for not responding to a message within a few minutes—not to have gotten back to you yet.

You’re left standing in the middle of your apartment, lost.

With a shake of your head, you try to put the worst from your mind. For all you know, he could have gotten called into work early and forgot to let you know on his rush out the door. You open your banking app and pay Steven for the night, making sure to deduct whatever you were planning to pay for the pleasure of waking up to him in your home. You also make a mental note to give Steven a firm talking to when you next see each other.

You didn’t hear from Steven for the rest of the weekend.

You’re reminded of one of your babies from a few years ago—the one who ghosted you after one date—and like a parasite, the idea that Steven might have done the same thing latches onto you and refuses to let go.

Monday morning, you’re determined not to let a mere sugar baby distract you—even though you don’t think of Steven as a “mere” anything—and steel yourself for what could be the inevitable end to a short-lived relationship. Steven taking two weeks to talk to you before agreeing to be your baby was one thing. It was another to agree to follow your rules, only to disregard them entirely. If Steven can’t commit to you the way you want him to, or if he decides that this isn’t for him, then you aren’t going to keep him.

It could even be a good thing, you try to convince yourself.

Maybe this could all be a lesson you need to learn about picking babies off the street.

You shake your head to rid yourself of the thought. You’re catastrophizing again. You’re making this personal, a reflection of yourself and your abilities. At the end of the day, Steven is an employee you hired because you thought he could do the job. After seeing some trouble from him, you’re merely reconsidering his position with you.

You ignore how much your stomach roils at the thought of letting him go.

At lunch, your phone vibrates in your purse—where you had tossed it earlier when you couldn’t stop staring at it from its usual place on your desk.

The sound makes you pause, questioning if someone is really calling you.

It might not be Steven, you tell yourself as you slowly, calmly reach into your bag and pull out your phone.

But it is him, and the weight in your stomach eases a little.

You stare at the phone, at Steven’s name on the screen, until it goes dark and stops vibrating. Then, a moment later, a notification pops up, announcing a voicemail.

Still, you wait. It’s only fair, after all.

Immediately, your phone starts buzzing again, Steven’s name displaying again. This time, you answer.

“Steven,” you say, your voice low. Although you’re glad he called and persisted with the voicemail and a second call, you’re still upset with him. He better have a good reason for disappearing.

“I am so sorry,” Steven says after a moment, perhaps registering your tone and knowing how upset you are. “I think…I think something’s wrong with me.”

“Why do you say that?” Despite your confusion, you keep your tone even, neither believing nor disbelieving him until you have more information.

Steven hesitates. “You’ll think I’m mad,” he mumbles, seemingly more to himself than to you.

That’s what hits you: your baby is going through something he’s afraid you’ll reject him for, that you won’t be there for him. And right now, regardless of how you feel, he needs you.

“Steven,” you say, softening your voice and letting a hint of worry peak through. “What’s wrong? Explain it to me.”

“I don’t remember this weekend,” Steven quietly admits, deepening your worry. “I mean, I remember staying at yours, but then suddenly I’m home, standing in the bathroom, and it’s Monday. And I know you’re mad at me, I know. I’m sorry. I just don’t know what’s going on.” Steven finishes, sounding on the verge of tears if a few haven’t slipped out already.

“Baby, hush,” you soothe. “I’m not mad at you.” Not anymore, though you are…concerned.

“You’re not?” Steven asks, hopeful.

“No, I’m not. But what happened? Are you not feeling well? Did you hit your head?”

You want to ask if he took anything, but hold off. It doesn’t feel like the right time, and it could potentially make him defensive and resistant to help if you do.

“Nothing like that. Mainly tired, like I haven’t slept in days, but nothing else.”

Strange, to say the least.

“Have you gone to the doctor?”

“N-no, I haven’t. I wasn’t sure…Since nothing’s wrong—”

“Steven, you blacked out for an entire day. That’s not normal,” you insist. Steven goes quiet. “Go. For me. I need to know you’re okay.”

“Okay,” he agrees softly.

“You’ll go today,” you order.

“Yes. Today.”

You think for a moment, biting your lip. “You’ll come to my place later. Meet me there when I get off work.”

You don’t know if inviting him back to your place is a good idea. There could genuinely be something wrong with Steven, something happening to him. But there’s also a chance he’s keeping something, some bad habit or another, from you.

You briefly rethink your decision to forgo a background check on him, but even still, you don’t make plans to follow through with it.

Despite the warning signs, you still want to see him, need to see him. You need to know he’s okay and be there for him. It takes everything in you not to go and be with him now, your anger forgotten and your worry about what he may have gotten himself into ignored.

He’s yours, and you want to take care of him. It’s almost as if, in the short time you’ve known him, he’s done something to you.

“I’ll be there,” Steven says, sounding more sure than anything else he’s said so far. “I…I need to see you.”

You try to ignore the warmth that floods through you.

Steven looks lost as he stands outside your door. He hesitates when he sees you, unsure whether to go to you or wait for you to reach him and unlock the door.

He looks tired, like he indeed hasn’t slept since he was here on Saturday, and his clothes are disheveled, more so than usual. You’ve yet to hear what happened to him over the weekend, what caused his blackout, but you already have a half-formed plan to keep him here tonight and put him to bed as soon as possible.

When you get close, you say his name softly and hold out your arms.

Steven looks relieved as he steps into you, his arms tucking under yours as he buries his face in your neck. He melts into you, and the two of you stand outside your door, each drawing some comfort from the other.

One of your hands goes to his head, threading your fingers through his curl and holding him tight. You kiss the side of his head and wait, letting him hold onto you for as long as he needs.

He clings to you so desperately it makes you wonder if he has anyone else.

Why is it that you, his sugar mommy, are the first person he came to? Regardless of your feelings toward him, surely he has family or friends he could turn to in a moment like this.

You don’t recall him mentioning anyone, except his mother, off-handedly. From how he made it sound, you don’t think she’s even in London.

Maybe you’re all he has.

The thought makes you cling to him as much as he is to you. With Steven in your arms, it’s easy to decide that no matter what’s wrong, you’ll help him. Maybe it’s something where it wouldn’t be right for him to keep being your sugar baby, but you won’t abandon him.

When Steven shows no sign of letting you go, you whisper, “Let’s go inside.”

He reluctantly pulls away and nods, though his hand quickly finds yours.

Once you’re through the door, you kick off your shoes and lead Steven to the couch. You’re a little surprised he doesn’t immediately curl up to your side, but he seems to realize the two of you still need to talk. And whatever he has to say must be serious.

“Did you go to the doctor like I said?” you ask when Steven doesn’t speak.

Instead, he deflates, falling back against the couch, tossing his head back, and staring up at the vaulted ceiling.

“She’s as stumped as I am, I think. Couldn’t find anything without running tests and…” he trails off, sounding defeated.

“And?” you prompt, squeezing his hand. He still hasn’t let go.

“She said it could just be sleepwalking or something like that. But for a whole day?” Steven lifts his head up, staring at you in confusion. “How can I have been asleep for a whole day? Not to mention getting from your flat to mine. Ugh, and then Donna.” Steven falls back and rubs his free hand down his face.

You had forgotten he was scheduled to work today. “You went in?”

“I was supposed to. Supposed to be there at nine, but came to staring at myself in the bathroom mirror with my phone ringing in the other room.”

“I take it Donna didn’t handle your absence well.”

“Oh, perfectly well, actually, if you don’t count the, you know, yelling and threatening to fire me. Had to tell her it was an emergency and promise that it won’t happen again to get her to stop. I don’t think she even believed me.”

You can practically see the weight of it all resting on Steven’s shoulders. Waking up after a blackout, knowing something is wrong, and then having your manager chewing you out immediately after? It would be horrible.

“Oh, Steven,” you soothe, pulling him to you so you can hug him again. “What about those tests the doctor mentioned? Are you going to take them? I could pull some strings and get you in to see a specialist sooner.”

“You don’t have to,” Steven insists as he wraps his arms around your waist. “There’s a chance it’s nothing… Just wait and see and hope it doesn’t happen again.”

You have to bite your tongue to keep from arguing. You’ve never had to worry about a baby’s health before, and you’re not sure if insisting that he seek treatment goes beyond the bounds you set for the relationship or if Steven would even appreciate you inserting yourself into that part of his life. You don’t want to tell him what to do regarding certain aspects of his personal life, but you still worry.

“Did you tell your family about what happened?” you ask instead. If you can’t tell him what to do about his health, maybe they can.

“It’s just my mum,” Steven says quietly, as if unsure what he wants to tell you. “I left her a message. She’s always traveling, so it’s hard to catch her. She’ll listen to it when she can, though. She always does.”

Something about his tone is slightly off, making you wonder who he’s trying to convince.

“Can we just…go back to normal?” Steven asks, sounding exhausted. “I don’t want to think about it anymore.”

“Normal, huh?” you concede, running your fingers through his hair. You’ll play everything by ear for now, and Steven seems well enough that you’re willing to drop the topic for tonight.

“Please?” he mumbles into your neck.

“Well, it just so happens that I got something in the mail for you today.”

Steven lifts his head, brow furrowed. “What’s that?”

You start pulling away, preparing to stand. “I’m going to need you to sound more enthusiastic than that, baby,” you say, kissing Steven’s cheek.

“Right, sorry,” he says, his face flushing like he’s already forgotten your roles. “I love it already. Thank you.”

You can’t help but laugh as you walk over to the front door where you left your bag. Grabbing the card you had safely tucked away earlier when it arrived at the office, you walk back to the living room and stand directly in front of Steven.

You flash the card at him, showing off his name and making Steven’s eyes widen in surprise.

“There’s no limit; you can use it to buy anything and everything. It’s already activated, and I have notifications set up on my phone, so I’ll know when you use it.” Your eyes narrow as you watch Steven visibly swallow, nervous. “And when you don’t.”

“I-I…” Steven stammers but doesn’t quite finish whatever he’s trying to get out.

You watch him closely, looking for any sign that he isn’t interested in this kind of play, the slightest hint that he’s uncomfortable.

Something dark shifts across his features then, twisting his expression toward a scowl. But then it’s gone in an instant, Steven’s expression returning to what it was, his soft brown eyes so trusting. You have no idea what to make of it.

Though it leaves you confused, you decide to continue but are mindful of any other signs that you’ll need to stop what you’re doing. What you have in mind isn’t intense, but some of your babies found it degrading and didn’t like doing it.

“Tell me why I should give you this card,” you say.

Steven shakes his head automatically. “I don’t deserve it.”

You raise an eyebrow. “No? But aren’t you doing this for the money? And all the other things I can give you?”

He looks away briefly before meeting your eyes again. Even though he’s hesitating, nothing about him says he doesn’t want to be doing this.

“Yes? But you already—”

“Steven.” His mouth snaps shut at your tone. “Repeat after me: I deserve an unlimited credit card.”

He flushes again and mumbles, “I deserve an unlimited credit card.”

“Louder.”

Steven repeats himself, only slightly louder than the first time.

“Again,” you order, still not satisfied.

When Steven repeats the words this time, he does so at a normal speaking volume—not too loud, but perfect for you.

“Good boy,” you praise, reaching out to hold his face with your free hand. You can tell this was hard for Steven, and you hope, one day, asking for the things he wants will be easier for him.

Steven closes his eyes with a contented sigh and nuzzles your palm. You can’t help but smile adoringly at him.

“Do you know why you deserve it?” you ask, keeping your voice low, soft.

He opens his eyes and shakes his head slightly, careful not to knock your hand away. “Because you’re my baby, and you’re special. Say it.”

Steven lets out a shaky breath against your palm. “Because I’m yours, and I’m special.” He doesn’t mumble or stumble over the words. His voice is clear and even, making you let out a pleased hum. You’re a little proud of him.

“Since you want it so much, beg for the card,” you say, watching him carefully.

Steven seems a little taken aback, and you drop your hand from his face.

“You can always say no,” you remind him. “This doesn’t have to be something we do. No hard feelings.”

When he doesn’t immediately respond, you take a step back and go to hand him the card. He’s done so well already, and you won’t push him into something he doesn’t want to do. Just because he’s your sugar baby doesn’t mean he’s a toy to toss around as you please.

But then Steven’s hands are on your hips, holding you in place.

“Please,” he whispers, staring up at you beseechingly from his place on the couch. Your heart starts to pound, elated.

“Please, what? What do you want?” You need him to say the words; you need to know that he wants to do this, too.

“Please give me the card,” he says, his voice still so quiet.

“You don’t sound like you want it bad enough.”

Steven shifts on the couch, moving close to the edge. His hands on your hips tighten ever so slightly. He licks his lips and says, “Please, can I have it? I promise I’ll use it. I’ll-I’ll buy so much stuff. Please?” He sounds happy to play along but isn’t sure quite what to say. You’re pleased, though, that he’s trying.

“Please what?” you prompt, hoping he’ll get the message, that he’ll like that part of the relationship too.

Steven stares at you for a moment. Then, “Please, mummy,” said in a breathless whisper.

Smiling brightly at him, you lean down and kiss him. Steven eagerly returns it, gripping your hips tighter and trying to pull you closer even though his head is already tilted back at a slightly awkward angle.

“You did so well, baby,” you say when you pull away. During the kiss, your hand somehow found its way into Steven’s hair, gripping it just enough to move his head how you wanted. You slide your hand back down to his cheek, brushing your thumb against the flush you find there. His pupils are blown wide, and his mouth is slightly open as he lets out shallow pants.

Standing up straight, you hold the credit card out for Steven. “Buy whatever you want, and you’re not getting off this couch until you do.”

“Right now?” Steven asks, sounding a little dazed. He reluctantly releases your hips to take the card, allowing you to sit beside him.

“Yes, right now. Pull out your phone.” You settle in against his side, throwing an arm on the back of the couch, around his shoulders when he settles back, so you can hover over him. “Do you want one of those giant TVs? A gaming system or a computer? What about getting the fixings for a saltwater tank and getting Gus an exotic friend?”

“I… don’t know,” Steven says, taking his phone out of his pocket and unlocking it. He still seems overwhelmed by the whole idea of having such an outrageous amount of money to spend. You affectionately brush one of his curls away from his face.

“Don’t worry, we have all night to figure it out.”

Series taglist: @multific @uncle-eggy @kezibear @local-mr-frog @peachyrue-777 @kpopslur @tejasvkris @thewinterv

if you can’t be tagged, check your privacy settings

#moon knight x reader #steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #moon knight fanfic #x reader #sugar series

[nerdieforpedro]

Joel Miller Masterlist

Drops of Sugar Series

Featuring Joel and Layla (plus size OFC) different vignettes of their lives together

Post Apocalyptic Fluff and Stuff

Joel Miller and Celeste are patrol partners. They’re a little more and a little less. It’s just right for now.

Joel Miller One Shots

A Night of Madness

Met you for more than just coffee

Ask: Age gap where Joel is a grump mentor with a crush

Patrolling on Christmas

Let ‘em hear Puddin’

Main Masterlist

Joel’s Darlin’s 💕: @yorksgirl @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @guelyury @goodwithcheese @morallyinept @ilovepedro @maggiemayhemnj

#pedro pascal characters #fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fluff #joel miller imagine #joel miller one shot #joel miller smut #joel miller x plus size reader #tlou joel #Sugar Series

[nyxypoo]

watching 'Sugar' on apple tv+

episode three giving me flashbacks from the title alone 'Shibuya Crossing'

shibuya man

#jjk #shibuya incident #apple tv #sugar series #don't know if i want to watch the episode now #im scared man

[showbizjunkies]

#sugar #sugar series #sugar episode 3 #sugar recap #colin farrell #amy ryan

[harrywavycurly]

Summary: Eddie Munson has two problems, he is lonely and is tired of spending money on just himself. Lucky for Eddie his good friend Steve Harrington knows just the person to help solve these little problems, and of course that person would be you. You’re newly single after ending things with your loser ex boyfriend and Steve just wants you to experience the finer things in life for a change as well as seeing what it’s like to be treated with kindness and respect. You don’t really know Eddie and Eddie doesn’t really know you but one thing is for certain, he will make sure you get exactly what you deserve♥️

Pairing: Sugar Daddy Eddie Munson x fem!reader

CW: Mentions of a toxic past relationship, language and the briefest mentions of violence (Eddie has a temper)

Status: Ongoing

Tag List: Open

A/N: I wanted this series to be a little different and it will still be fluffy but will also include dealing with past relationship trauma✨

Instagrams: Here

Conversations: Here

Everything Else: Here

*you’ll find everything in the correct order below*

Part 1: Think About It

Part 2: Dave

Part 3: Start Small

Part 4: Overwhelmed

Part 5: Details

Part 6: Not Real

Part 7.1: Not Okay

Part 7.2: Up Late

Part 8: You Have Five

Part 9: Teacher

#eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson series #eddie munson au #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fanfic #sugar daddy!eddie #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader fluff #Eddie Munson x fem!reader angst #Eddie Munson #Steve Harrington #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things au #stranger things series #my little dungeon master baby #my little fluffy haired baby

[haveyouseenthisseries-poll]

#tv series #tv shows #polls #steven universe #rebecca sugar #estelle #zach callison #2010s series #us american series #have you seen this series poll

[libraryofloveletters]

chapter nine: secrets come back to haunt

Sebastian Vettel x Fem!Reader

Warnings: old faces return, seb's world is turned upside down, secrets are revealed, hidden relationship status so to speak, y/n is trying her best here, a bit of bashing, mentions of postpartum depression, a lot of back and forth, a small bit of crude/flirty humour from seb, dragging up the past, sadness - this is a really emo chapter sorry.

Word Count: 3.8k

Author’s Note: again, I'm sorry for disappearing. there's a lot going on lmao, but I'm back (for now) so take this :)

sugar and spice; all things nice masterlist

--

Sundays were reserved for racing, they always have been.

Since Sebastian was 3 years old, all he's known was the race track. He'd spend hours with his family, going round and round on the track until he was forced out of his kart. Even as a grown man, it was the same; fighting for race wins and championship titles, Sebastian Vettel found himself surrounded by mechanics, loud cars and screaming fans.

Sunday mornings were a bit different now.

The scent of oranges and peaches filled the air, the clattering of shopping cart wheels were a change in pace from the ones he was used to. Amelia tugged her father's hand, getting his attention.

"What about this one, papa?" She asked her dad, blonde curls unruly and framing her face. Sebastian looked at what she was showing him, an apple with no bruises or dents, and nods.

"Perfect."

Milly dropped the apple into the bag she was holding, looking for another one as her father watched her.

It was quiet in the store, a few people shopping as well as the workers chatting as they did their jobs. Sebastian's mind drifted to you as he watched Milly pick out apples. Never would he have envisioned his life this way after everything that happened; happy, content.

There was a feeling building in his chest, not one of happiness but as if he was being watched. He lived a normal life now that he's retired but it's not abnormal for him to be noticed. More often than not, the person would say hello and ask for a photo, then they're on their way.

Today, for some reason, Sebastian couldn't shake the feeling.

This was a bad feeling.

Sebastian tries to shake off the thought, thinking it was just his imagination playing tricks on him. But no matter where he went, that feeling stuck with him like a stubborn shadow.

Unable to shake it off, Seb glances over his shoulder and his heart stops, skips a beat, and drops to his stomach all in the matter of a second.

He wasn't certain if he was seeing right or if he was imagining things.

Brown hair cascaded over the woman's shoulders, her eyes scanning what was in front of her for a moment before she looked up - as if she felt him looking at her.

As he lived and breathed, he didn't think he'd ever see her again, let alone at the grocery store on a Sunday morning.

The woman smiles at him, Sebastian turns away and his attention is back on Amelia. "Sweetheart," he calls out to her, the little girl puts the bag with apples into the cart and looks at her dad.

"Hm?"

"We need to go," he grabs her hand and her brows furrow, confused by her father's sudden actions. "What? What's going on papa?" She asks, following her father as he walks towards the exit with her.

The shopping cart abandoned in the middle of the produce section, Milly's little legs moving as quick as they can as she follows her father out of the store.

"Papa," she calls out of him, the man helping her into the car.

"I think I left the oven on," he fibs, the concern on his face was enough to sell it. A small oh left her lips as he shuts the door and gets in himself, the two of them heading back to the house.

Sebastian lets her in, Milly stays by the front door as Sebastian walks to the kitchen. The girl follows behind her father, peeking from the doorway to see that the oven was in fact off.

"It's not on," she tells him, brows furrowed as they were before they left the store. Seb hums, shrugging. "Better safe than sorry, hm?"

She pouts, "can we go back to the store, papa? I wanna get cookies!"

"We're already home, love bug." He walks over to her, scooping her up in his arms. Sebastian twirls her around, her giggles settling his feelings - all the worries melting away. "How about we order something for lunch and then we can go over to y/n's? I'm sure Liv would love to make cookies with you."

She nods, a big grin on her face - granted a tooth or two that were missing. "Yeah!"

Sebastian puts her down, kissing the top of her head before she runs off to the living room, putting the tv on.

It takes Sebastian a minute to gather himself. All of the thoughts running wild and the most horrifying feeling passing through him when he saw her in the store today. A million different things happened at once and he wasn't sure what to do, or how to react, or if he should go up to her or not.

He couldn't think of putting Milly through that situation yet again, it was hard enough when she started growing up and asking for her.

The doorbell rings, and once again Sebastian is paralyzed with fear.

Fear of what's to come, what she could possibly want, what he would tell Milly if the situation were to escalade.

He never moved, the same house they started to build their life in was the same house she walked out of and never looked back. Why would she come back now?

There's a knock this time, small and gentle but loud enough for him to hear.

Walking to the door, he sees not one but two figures on the other side of the frosted panel. One taller and one smaller, he smiles when he realizes who it is.

"Hi Mr. Seb!" Liv smiled at the man, he smiled back at her. "Hi sweetheart, come in." He steps aside from her to come in and all the noise alerts Milly that someone was at the door.

"Hi Liv! Hi y/n!" The blonde girl waves to you, you wave back to her as she and Liv run upstairs to her room to play.

Sebastian pulls you into a hug after you shut the door, his hands slipping under the hem of your shirt - you're here, you're real, you're home.

"Are you okay?" Your question comes out quietly, your own fingers tangled in the unruly curls at the nape of his neck - you should remind him to get a haircut soon.

Sebastian hums, sighing as he lets you go. "I'm okay, just needed a hug." He says, now holding your hand as you two walk to the living room. He sits down, pulling you into his side and the sound of SpongeBob's laughter breaks the silence in the room.

Despite Seb assuring you that he's fine, you still felt as if he was hiding something from you. An arm stretched over the back of the couch, mindlessly twirling his hair.

"Seb?" You called.

"Yes honey?" He turns to look at you, a soft smile on his face.

"What's on your mind? You look.. tense."

"Nothing a good back rub won't fix," he says, suggestively wiggling his eyebrows.

"Sebastian.." You rolled your eyes playfully but your tone was enough to let him know you weren't fond of his change in topic.

He takes a deep breath, his eyes shifty and his chest rising and falling as if he had just finished a race. "I uh.." he starts, taking another deep breath. "I saw Lilly."

Your brows furrow; it takes a moment for you to connect the dots but when you do, your jaw hangs open, looking at your boyfriend. "You saw.. Lilly?"

"Yeah." He says, nonchalantly.

"Where- um.. did she.. where did you see her?"

Seb sinks back into the cushions, looking at you. "She was at the grocery store. Mils and I were shopping and I felt someone staring at me. I turned around and there she was, alive and well."

"Did you talk to her? Did she come over to you guys?"

"No, I grabbed Milly and left before she got a chance too. I don't even know if she really registered that it was me or if she was just looking in my direction."

You nodded, going quiet for a moment. "Do you think.. maybe she'll come looking for you guys? I mean, I know you looked for her after she left but, did she ever try to reach out to you guys?"

"No, never. After she left, she never looked back. I searched for her, hired PIs, called her family, I did everything I could but she was gone. I don't know why she's back, I didn't care to find out."

You understood where he was coming from. You felt the same way about Olivia's father but after all, Sebastian is his own person with his own feelings.

"Maybe she's got her reasons, and like you said, maybe she didn't even register that it was you. Perhaps she's back for something that has nothing to do with you and Milly." You say, squeezing his shoulder softly.

Sebastian nods, leaning into your touch. The two of you sat there in silence for a bit, not bothering to change the cartoons Milly had left on until Sebastian stood, announcing that he was off to take a shower.

You left him in the living room, off to make yourself some tea when he hugs you from behind. His chin on your shoulder, "wanna join me?"

"Join you where? In the shower?"

"Yeah," he whispers, kissing your neck softly.

You roll your eyes, "keep it in your pants, Sebastian. We've got children upstairs."

"It's okay, we can use the bathroom down here, and they won't hear anything over the water."

You laughed, "how sweet of you to come up with a solution. Go shower, I'll see you after." You turn, giving him a kiss before sending him off his way - begrudgingly if you asked him.

As he disappeared up the stairs, you made yourself busy and cleaned up the kitchen a bit. You loved Sebastian but between his affinity for trying new things and his messiness, the kitchen was a disaster zone. Something resembling pancake mix sat almost empty on the counter and there was a stack of plates in the sink, utensils sticking out between them.

If you cleaned up a bit, the four of you could head out for an early dinner with the girls and perhaps catch a movie afterwards.

Hands covered in soapy water when the doorbell rings, you didn't think Sebastian was expecting anyone. Perhaps it was his parents coming for a visit or a neighbour seeking out something. There's a knock, yet a few seconds after the bell rings. Well they're rather impatient, you think.

"Coming!" You shouted, wiping your hands on the hand towel, slinging it over your shoulder as you made your way to the door.

Upon opening the door, you're met with a woman. Slender and tall, brown hair tossed over her shoulders and brown eyes to match. Her face shows an expression of confusion as she tries to look past you into the house.

"Hi, can I help you?" You asked, shifting slightly to block her view of the entryway.

She looks you up and down, before making eye contact with you. "I'm looking for Sebastian."

"Sebastian.." You trailed off, not 100% sure if she meant your Sebastian or just any random man off the street named Sebastian. Well after all, she probably meant your Sebastian as she was at his house.

"Vettel," she says, her brows furrowed and her face seems displeased with your answer. "Sebastian Vettel, does he live here?"

You aren't sure how you're supposed to handle this. What if she was some stalker? You're not gonna tell her yes.

"Can I ask why you're looking for him?" Yet again, you're met with a look of displeasure and annoyance.

"I'm Lilly, his wife."

Your heart drops to your stomach; his wife. It was obvious to the woman standing outside that you knew who she was now, that you knew Sebastian and clearly you weren't aware he was married.

"I- give me a moment." You tell her, shutting the door and heading up the stairs.

You find the bathroom door unlocked and Sebastian turns to see who came in, towel wrapped around his waist. He smiles when he sees you.

"What? Decided you wanted a piece of this after all?" He gestures to himself, making an obscene face while wiggling his eyebrows.

You shook your head, "she's downstairs."

"What? Who's downstairs?"

"Lilly. Lilly's downstairs. She's outside, looking for you. She also said-" You shook your head, sighing. "Never mind."

Sebastian gives you a look, getting dressed as quickly as he can. "What? What did she say?"

"She said she's your wife."

His forehead wrinkled, clearly confused. "We weren't married. Engaged, yes, but she left. I haven't thought about that in years."

There was more to the story, you didn't want to press him, at least not right now. "Okay," you nodded. "What do I tell her?"

"I'll deal with her," he says, stepping past you.

You follow him down the stairs, Sebastian heading towards the front door and you were off to the living room, feeling slightly out of place. He grabs your hand, "where are you going?"

"I don't-" "No, I want you with me." He says, holding your hand as he leads you back to the front door.

He takes a deep breath, opening the door to see Lilly there. You're stood in the doorway, door pulled half way shut behind you and Sebastian steps out onto the porch with Lilly.

"Hi honey," she says to Sebastian, her words laced with sweetness. You swallowed, watching the exchange between the two of them. Sebastian was a few feet away from her, "hello Lilly."

"So formal," she smiles at him, almost teasingly. He doesn't react. "How are you?"

He's straight to the point. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm here to see you, and Milly."

"Amelia," he corrects her, "you don't get to call her that."

"Why not?" She asks, "she's my daughter, Sebastian."

He can't help but scoff, shaking his head at the woman. "You can't call yourself her mother if you haven't been in her life, Lilly. You've been gone 6 years, do I need to remind you of that?"

Lilly's eyes widened, feigning a look of surprise - as if she wasn't expecting Sebastian to say that, as if he'd just let her walk back into their lives.

"What do you need? Money?" He asks her, unsure as to what her actual motive was.

"No," she shook her head, huffing. "I'm here to see my daughter, and you."

"You can't see her."

"Why not?" She fought back, stepping closer to him. Sebastian takes a step back. "I need to see her, Sebastian."

"I'm not letting you see her, Lilly. You walked out of our lives, out of her life and you don't get to walk back in just because you feel like you're ready to be a mother."

Lilly rolled her eyes at the man. "I am her mother."

"Only biologically."

There's a noise from behind you, all three of you turning to see what it was. Milly and Liv were coming down the stairs, looking for you and Seb. You glance at your boyfriend and he nods towards the girls, you take that as you sign to leave them and head inside. The door shut behind you, the silhouettes of the two people on the porch seen through the panel of frosted glass.

"Who's outside?" Liv asks you, the girls look towards you for an answer.

You fib, "just a neighbour, they needed Seb's help with something. How about a snack ?" You ushered them towards the kitchen, glancing over your shoulder to the door before walking away with the girls.

The brown haired woman looked through the panel, seeing you with the two girls. "Is that her? Milly?"

Seb glances to see the blonde girl sharing something with her best friend and he nods.

"So who's the woman? My replacement?" Lilly looks towards him for an answer. Her tone ignited an anger in him but he bites his tongue.

"She's not a replacement, you've been gone for 6 years. I'm allowed to move on with my life. Don't speak about her that way."

Lilly raised her eyebrows, yet again surprised by Sebastian's feistiness. "Is that so?"

"She's my girlfriend, have some respect. She's been in Milly's life long before that, treating her as if she was her own. She's more of a mother to her than you are."

"You have another woman raising my child?"

"You didn't raise her, so frankly I don't think you have a say in that. She's been nothing but good to Milly, she loves her and cares for her. She's a good influence, and never has she ever done anything to make anyone think otherwise."

Lilly asks the question he knew was coming; "Do you love her ?"

It was a simple question, really. He didn't even need to think about the answer. It was instinct.

"Yes, I do."

It goes quiet for a moment, Sebastian can see the hurt on Lilly's face. A part of him feels bad but he also shouldn't feel bad as it's not his fault they're in their situation, is it?

"Why are you really here, Lilly?"

"I told you," she starts, "I want to be a family, Seb. I want you and mil- Amelia," she corrects herself, "back. I want us to be together again. I know I left, but you have to see with me, it was so hard. You were never there, Seb. It was me and Amelia by ourselves, it's so hard caring for a baby, especially one that cried and screamed all night. I was restless and tired, and upset that you weren't there for me, I couldn't do it anymore. I didn't know what else to do."

It breaks Seb's heart to see her like this, after all she is Amelia's mother and once his fiancée, but it's not fair to him or to Amelia either.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there for you, I really am but I did the best I could, you have to understand my side of things too." He sighs. "I had a job, you knew how demanding it was, you knew I'd be away from home a lot. I didn't party, I didn't go on lavish trips with the team, I turned down events and brand ambassadors so I could have as much time as possible at home with you two. I tried, Lilly. You think I didn't want it to work? For us to be a family?"

She looks at him, it felt like it did 6 years ago, the two of them fighting over the things they can't change, the impossible circumstances in which life had dealt them.

"Had you told me you needed a break, that you needed to be alone for a bit, we would have figured it out but you didn't. You left, Lilly. Snuck off in the middle of the night without so much of a warning. I didn't know what else to do. I looked for you, for months, calling you, your family, begging for them to tell you to come home and you never did. I'm sorry but I can't let you walk back in after all of that. It's not only you that went through a rough time, so did we."

"We were engaged," she says, words coming out quietly. "Does that mean nothing to you?"

He looks at her, heart in his hands, the feeling weighing heavy on him. "No," he shakes his head, words just as soft and full of sorrow. "Not anymore."

She lets out a shaky breath, nodding. There's a feeling of despair, perhaps even disappointment lingering. The idea of what could have been, what life would have been like had she stayed, the good and the bad. Who's to know if they'd still be together after all of it if she had stayed or if they'd be on the same path they were on now.

That's the harsh reality of life.

"Tell her I love her," Lilly tells him, stepping off the porch. "I always have."

"I know," he nods, "she knows that too."

And with that, she's off. Much like the first time, yet so different. All the things that should have been said were out in the open and a weight was off of Sebastian.

He stepped back into the house as the girls were headed back upstairs. "What did the neighbour want, papa?" Milly asks her dad, her sweet face looking up at him.

"Nothing really, baby. Just needed my help to move something from the garage into their house."

She nods, she and Liv head back up to her room to play. Sebastian sees you leaning on the counter, arms folded over your chest as you watch him with your daughters. He smiles sweetly at the girls before making his way down the hallway to you.

"Everything okay?" You rub his back softly as the man collapses into you.

"Yeah," he whispers, holding you a little tighter. "Everything is okay."

"Has she left?" You let him go, he moves to stand beside you and mirrors your lean on the counter. "Mhm hm, I don't think she's coming back."

You hum, unsure what the right thing to say is. If you say good, it seems like you want her gone. If you say okay, it seems like you don't care. A hum is simple, an answer in itself.

Sebastian can see the wrinkles on your forehead, his finger pointed as he counts. "One, two, three, four.."

"What are you doing?"

"Counting your wrinkles," he says with a smile. You laugh, swatting his hand away. Sebastian pulls you into his side, an arm slung over your shoulder. "What's on your pretty ol' mind? Penny for your thoughts?"

"My thoughts cost more than a penny, Sebastian."

"Well, lucky for you y/n, money is no objective."

You give him a small smile, shifting to look at him. "Why did you never tell me you were engaged?"

He takes a moment, before shrugging. "It's not that I was hiding it from you but it was a long time ago, it's not something I like to talk about. It just reminds me of a bad time in my life, that's all."

It was a fair enough answer, you don't need to know everything about his life. He didn't know everything about your life.

He nudges your shoulder, "why? Do you have a secret engagement you're hiding from me?"

"Oops, did I forget to tell you?" You play a look of shock, a hand over your mouth. "The prince of Dubai and I are set to get married next weekend.

Sebastian smiles, "you know, I've met the prince of Dubai, he's a really nice guy. I think you'll be very happy in your marriage."

You laugh, swatting his arm. "I'm sure I will be."

---

taglist: @lighttsoutlewis @hc-dutch @laura-naruto-fan1998 @dubistweltmeistersv5 @kakorrhaphiphobia @myescapefromthislife @f1medlife  @charles-dimple @hockeyshmockey @handsupforamiracle @ads-skywalker-leclerc @anicega @ship-slut @bigdicric @mysticalnightenthusiast @ellalovesvettel  @coincidence-ithinknots-blog @coldheartedmar @koufaxx @alexander-hamilhoe @charlewiss @mistrose23 @mehrmonga @eclairmcqueen @consisedictionaryofmistakes  @nyenye @callsign-scully @molliemoo3 @like-fire-love-blog @agentstarkid @rose-tinted-juls @lynnismypseudonym @gagaga167  @dreamycloudsworld  @motorsp0rt @22yuki @renewing @pitconfirmbutton @anythingandeverything97   @gracesferrari @vitadimoda @woncloudie @raaaaabzzz  @lunnnix  @incontention @belledawnidk  @whore8io  @getourade @kickinganddriving @pretty-little-bunny382728

#sugar and spice; all things nice series #sebastian vettel #sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel x you #sebastian vettel x y/n #sebastian vettel imagine #sebastian vettel fanfic #sebastian vettel fluff #sebastian vettel angst #sebastian vettel series #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 x female reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 angst #f1 series #f1 fiction

[yanderecookierunkingdom]

Six becomes Five

Inspired by @brittle-doughie and his few works about the 5 Beasts! The ones were the reader being a part of their group caught my eye, so have this!

Part 1

You were Compassion, brilliant, and beautiful. You aided the Cookies in their times of need, when they needed you most. Helping them up to their feet, using your powers to heal them, to soothe arguments. Your friends were once like that too.

Shadow Milk Cookie loved to put on plays for the Cookies, and have them join in. He'd always give you one of the main parts alongside him. It was only fair!

Burning Spice Cookie was always so valiant in defending them, with Silent Salt Cookie by his side. The two were nigh unstoppable, and with you near to always heal any wounds, they really were.

Eternal Sugar Cookie would often join you in aiding the common Cookies, always lounging on her cloud. She always made a spot for you, though. Mystic Flour Cookie would tag along too, going on and on about things seen. It always made you smile.

Until.. something changed.

You didn't notice it at first. It was subtle things, especially whenever you weren't around. Being cruel and hateful towards the Cookies, seeing them as lesser. For not having the power baked and blessed into you six.

You only saw it all too late when your comrades gleefully recounted all that they had done during one of your meetup sessions. You were briefly in shock before shakily congratulating them. You didn't want to anger them. You couldn't take all five of them at once in a fight..

However, you didn't need to wait long. Your Creators, the Witches, soon saw this and upon seeing you untouched by greed and corruption, asked for you help.

Mournfully, you agreed.

You called them all to the spot, saying you had a dance you wanted to show them. A special one, just for their eyes. It was difficult getting them in the exact spots, but once you did..

The Forks fell, trapping them one by one. You continued your dance until the sapling of the Silver Tree was planted, where you then bowed to them.

None of them could understand. Why would you betray them?

Why were you walking away?!

"COME BACK, YOU CAN'T LEAVE!"

For so long following that fateful day, you tried to stay there in Beast-Yeast, but it wasn't possible. Many of the remaining Cookies, that were the Faeire Cookies, couldn't bare to live there any longer.

So you said a mournful goodbye, and led the Cookies that wanted a new home to a new home. Crispia, you decided it would be called. Once many Cookies began to settle, you turned and left. You couldn't bare the thought of becoming like one of the Beasts, so you secluded yourself, changed yourself.

Your divine appearance, your name, everything. Once a Cookie representing Compassion, now you were a mere shadow of yourself. The only thing that stood constant was your Soul Jam, now a beautiful amulet around your neck instead of attached to your clothes.

It was the one thing you couldn't part with, no matter how hard you tried.

You rebuilt yourself. Made new friends, connections, loved ones.

Until the day came.

You had to return to that land to find White Lily Cookie. You didn't want to, but for the sake of the world, you had to.

Oh, it had all gone so terribly wrong. White Lily Cookie had awakened, you had your reunion with the Faeires, and then the Seal began to undo. Try as anyone might, it couldn't be resealed.

And from the rift.. came Shadow Milk Cookie.

Without a single thought, you put yourself between the group and him.

He opened his mouth to say something, but when he spotted you, his pupils went wide.

After so long of being trapped, hidden away by the seal and vines, Eternal Sugar Cookie's constant wailings about you being tricked, manipulated, or brainwashed had gotten to all the Beasts. It was the only explanation, it had to be.

And as Shadow Milk Cookie grins widely down at you, obession in his eyes, you swear to yourself.

You really shouldn't have come back to Beast-Yeast.

#yandere crk x reader #yandere crk #yandere cookie run kingdom x reader #yandere cookie run kingdom #cosmos constellations #yandere mystic flour cookie #yandere shadow milk cookie #yandere eternal sugar cookie #yandere silent salt cookie #series: six becomes five #yandere burning spice cookie

[black-salt-cage]

ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚

#💙 sugar life posting 🌙 #girlycore #gamercore #gaming #video games #gaming consoles #Nintendo #Gameboy Advance SP #gifsets #gifs #stimmy #stimblr #stimming #Kirby #stim #Kirby series #pink #blue #yellow #white #black #shiny #techcore #technology #tech

[galacticgraffiti]

Sugar (I've developed a taste for you)

❁ 2 ❁

!!! NSFW ⋆ 18+ ⋆ Minors DNI !!!

Summary: A favour for a favour - Astarion's world has worked like that for centuries. Except- you don't know that yet.

Rating: Mature Wordcount: 3.3k Descriptors: I try to keep my reader-inserts fairly neutral, but let me know if anything slips through the cracks! Still debating how to go about C3... CW: nicknames, flirting, lusting after the pale man, blood, blood play, talks about biting, feelings talk

« Chapter 1 ⋆✦⋆ Main Masterlist ⋆✦⋆ If you prefer AO3 ⋆✦

༻────• ༻❁༺ •────༺

Chapter 2: I'm a Winged Insect, You're a Funeral Pyre

You wake up wrapped in your bedroll, barely able to open your eyes. You feel exhausted - drained.

Drained.

You sit up, your hand flying up to your neck to feel for the wound Astarion’s fangs must have  left there. They are small, barely tangible, but you can feel the small holes nonetheless.

You breathe out slowly, trying to gain some control over your feelings. The world blurs before your eyes as you recall last night.

This really happened. You let him do that to you. You gave your blood, willingly - and you found out Astarion’s big secret. Not just an elf, but a vampire. You knew he was hiding something, but something this big? May the gods have mercy on your soul because you have certainly sinned.

You shiver when the memories of last night push to the forefront of your mind - Astarion’s hand in your hair, his lips on your neck - his teeth in you. How it felt to be drunk from, how easy it was to give in and let him have what he wanted.

You don’t remember passing out, but you must have, because you have no recollection of making your way back to the campfire.

Carefully, you stretch out your sore muscles, bones and joints cracking.

“Good morning, darling.”

Astarion’s voice makes your head whip around. He is sitting there, on the thick stump of a tree right next to where you always sleep, watching you with concerned eyes.

“Good morning.” Your voice is scratchy, your throat drier than the seventh circle of the hells.

Astarion’s tongue peeks out from between pink lips, and you notice that he looks… invigorated.

“How are you feeling, sweet thing?” He sounds genuinely worried, and your heart flutters. “There was a moment last night- I thought I may have taken too much, but then you stirred in my arms… I am sorry, my dear, you just make me… hungry.”

The way his voice drops on the last word makes your heart flutter. If this is how he acts after you do him this favour, it may well have been worth it.

“Mhm.” You nod slowly, trying to focus your mind. You are not nearly as angry as you probably should be. “May have been a bit much. I’m feeling sort of woozy.”

“Oh, sweetheart, I do apologise. I promise I’ll be more careful next time.” He saunters over, kneeling next to you, his finger stroking your cheek. 

“Next time?” You laugh weakly. “You sound very certain there will be a next time.”

His eyes darken.

“Well, won’t there be?”

Your neck cracks when you stretch, then exhaustion makes you sink back into your little nest of warmth again.

“Mhh. I’ll have to think about it.”

“But- but I thought you liked it.” Astarion’s voice sounds vaguely distressed, his hand pulling away from your cheek. “I could taste it on you- I could feel it-”

“I- Gods, I’m not saying I didn’t… enjoy myself,” you clarify, though your cloudy thoughts are making it hard to put into words what exactly it is that you are feeling. “I’m just- you said it yourself, just a taste, but now you admit you lost control-”

“-I’ll get better at it with time, who was ever perfect the first time they did something?”

That shuts you right up. What in the hells does that mean?

Astarion’s face is guarded when he looks at you.

“It was… the first time I did not drink from an animal,” he explains quietly. “You were my first, and you were perfect. Better than anything I could have ever dreamed of, simply divine. A delectable treat that I was not in the least prepared for. I am sorry if I got a bit wrapped up in the moment, my love.”

Your cheeks flush at his words. Never in a million years would you have thought you might enjoy being called a ‘treat’, and yet, here you are.

Astarion pats your blanket, gently pushing you back down until you give in and roll up in your blanket once more. His voice is soft and gentle when he regards you.

“Now, now, my pet. Rest some more; it seems you need it. And… thank you.”

You can barely keep your eyes open, and the small smile on his face is the last thing you see before you slip off to sleep again.

*****

It becomes a regular occurrence after that. You know it shouldn’t, you know it is a stupid risk each and every time. You know you have less strength the next day, your head swimming and your throat aching. But, oh, to watch Astarion fight fuelled by your blood is a delight you never expected.

He is stronger, much more powerful than you ever saw him before - and happier. His behaviour does not change, exactly, but every once in a while, you now catch him trying to take care of you in small, nearly imperceptible ways. It astounds you, it surprised you - but you can’t help feeling flattered by his attentions.

Each time he drinks from you, the pain grows less and the odd ecstasy that accompanies it takes over more and more. It is intoxicating, to feel him so close to you, to witness the noises that escape him, and feel the bobbing of his throat when he swallows what your body provides. You start to look forward to the nights where he finds you.

Each time feels more intimate than the last: From the beginning of it all in that stream, to a secluded place in the woods by the campsite, to his lavish encampment, then yours, then his again, and finally, against a column in a forgotten crypt, when you two stay behind to loot the place while the rest of the party moves on.

It’s getting harder to separate your body’s reaction to something so visceral from feeling aroused by the power that comes with it. To look into Astarion’s blood-red eyes and know they are shining only because of you has an odd effect on you.

And while he whispers sweet nothings, while he groans and whimpers as he drinks you down, you always try to keep up some semblance of control: After that first time in the river, no noise ever escapes you, even though your jaw hurts from clenching.

You wonder vaguely if it is sick that you derive pleasure from this arrangement - but then again, so does he. It is all worth it to see how happy he is, though he waves Gale and Karlach’s comments of his improved mood off like bothersome flies.

Astarion keeps his promise - he never drains you as much as he did the first time, even though you can see in his eyes that he would keep going every time if he thought you might survive it. He never asks for seconds again, and you are grateful. If he did, you are not sure you could deny him.

It has been a while since he last came to you - a few days, no more, but you have gotten so used to your little ritual that it feels like an eternity.

You have moved camp since the last time you got to spend time together; deeper into the forest, on your search for the druid Halsin. You try not to think too much about the fact that Astarion has not sought you out. Trying to keep all this a secret has turned out to be harder than either of you thought. No opportunity has presented itself for a while now, and you have to be rational about the arrangement. It’s not in either of your best interest for the group to find out what you two have been up to. You would rather bear the lewd comments in quiet dignity, thank you very much.

Astarion consumes - well, not your every waking thought, but you find yourself thinking much more about him than you should. It’s not just his fangs that you daydream about either - his lips have snuck into your dreams, his hands, his voice. It’s just not fair.

Thus, tonight, you are determined to find a quiet place for the two of you. The urge that grows inside you must be satisfied. You tell yourself that you do this to make Astarion stronger - you have seen him weaken throughout the week, trying to survive off of animals the way he used to. But it’s not the same.

Now that you have seen what Astarion can do, you want to see him like that all the time: powerful, striking down enemies quicker than you can draw your weapon sometimes. And it’s not just for selfish purposes, either: You want him to feel like that all the time.

And so, you concoct a plan - simple yet effective.

After dinner - Karlach cooked, so it was actually quite enjoyable - you excuse yourself to go explore the surrounding woods. You tell your companions that you want to find another source of water, under the pretence of needing to wash your clothing. Actually, it may not be all pretence - you do smell. So do your companions, which is why no one has complained yet. But you may as well use the time exploring the forest for something helpful aside from just luring Astarion away.

When you catch the way Astarion’s head pricks up when you say that you are looking for a quiet place with water, you know that he has caught on. He is too smart for his own good sometimes, but this time, you are glad about it.

Anxiety grips your  stomach as you wander through the darkness below the thick trees and hope that he might follow you.

What if he doesn’t? What if you happen upon a wild animal before he finds you? Maybe he has lost his taste for you, or-

“There you are, darling.” His voice has become so familiar in the last few days, quiet and demanding at the same time. You wish you didn’t like it so much.

You turn around to find Astarion much closer to you than you had anticipated. He is always so quiet.

“Here I am.” You cock your head. “Was there something I could help you with?”

“Oh, don’t play coy with me now, sweet thing.” He steps closer, cupping your face in his hands. “You knew exactly what you were doing when you left camp. You were hoping I would come find you, were you not?”

“Maybe.” You try not to give in, but he feels too good- too warm, too comforting. His teeth shine in the moonlight when he laughs and your belly tightens.

“Ah, I knew it. You missed me.”

You raise a brow and stare at him defiantly: “You have lacked in battle recently. I thought you might need to be… replenished.”

“And that was the only reason, was it?” As he leans closer to you, you step back, one, two, three steps until your back is pressed up against a tall fir tree. “You were worried about my… performance?”

“Yes,” you whisper. His lips are so close to yours you can feel his breath on your face. Your eyes flutter shut as you let your head fall to the side to expose your neck.

“Liar.” Astarion sounds amused by your weak attempts to defy him. “You missed me- you missed the way I make you feel.”

His lips descend onto your neck in a way that feels nearly like worship. You suppress a sigh at the sensation - gods, you have missed this more than you should have. He smells so good, despite the rough days you have been having, and the way his hands pull at you makes you shiver all over, tiny fire of desire exploding on your bare skin where he touches you.

“I was thinking…” he mumbles. “Your neck seems a bit… sore. Maybe we should grant you some reprieve.”

“I’m fine.” Your answer is too fast, and Astarion’s chuckle makes your heart beat faster.

“Of course you are, little pet. I’ve kept my promise after all, haven’t I?” His tongue flicks at the tiny scars his teeth have left in your neck and you bite your lip to cut off a moan. Your body quivers, though, your back arching for a split-second before you regain control. Astarion’s smile is audible in his voice. “Even if you don’t want to admit it, your body has missed me, my love. I think it’s time we stopped pretending, don’t you?”

“Stopped pretending what?” Your voice is breathless, and all you can do is hope that he might mean what you so desperately hope he means.

Astarion’s lips lift from the sensitive skin of your neck.

“Why, pretend you don’t want me, of course.” He says it like it is the most obvious thing in the world. And maybe, it is. “Pretend like you don’t need me just as much as I need you. Did you think you could hide how your pulse quickens when I touch you? The flush in your cheeks, your little breaths… Your body betrays you, little pet. You have been careful, my darling, but not as careful as you might think you have been. All those small noises you thought I couldn’t hear… tsk.”

He shakes his head. You chew on your lower lip, anxiously waiting for his reaction to your not so secret secret. A coppery taste floods your mouth and you realise you must have broken the skin of your lip by worrying it.

You raise your finger to wipe away the drop of blood, but your hand is caught by a pale one. Astarion inhales sharply, his body pressing up against you, his thigh slotting between yours as easily as if it had always belonged there. The rough bark of the tree presses into your back and you become acutely aware how trapped you are by Astarion’s arms in a way that turns the spark of arousal in your belly into a full blown fire.

Astarion’s thumb paints circles on the back of your hand as he stares at the drop of blood on your lip intently, hypnotised by the dark red sliver of pain against your skin.

His voice is gravelly in a way you have never heard before, and you shiver when he raises his hand to smear the blood until it covers your lips.

“Mhh.” He cocks his head. “That’s better, my love. Perfect rosy lips for my perfect little pet. Oh- don't look at me like that, darling, it’s alright. Does it hurt? Let me help you with that…”

It’s not a kiss, not really. His mouth meets yours desperately, licking at the small wound where your lip split. You tell yourself it’s not a kiss, but your body reacts like it is anyways. Your nerve endings light up in a fiery cascade of pleasure, and your hands fly up to Astarion’s waist, pulling him closer into you.

His tongue licks at you and your lips part easily, but he does not take the opportunity. Instead, he laughs quietly as he pulls back.

“Oh, you liked that, didn’t you?” He sounds content with himself in a way that would infuriate you if you were not so turned on right now.

You ashamedly stare down at your boots. And you nod.

Astarion’s finger tilts your chin up gently until you have to raise your head and look him in the eye.

“Don’t look away, my darling.” He strokes your cheek. “There is no need to be ashamed. You should have told me earlier that this was what you really wanted… mixing pleasure and pain is always a good idea, sweet thing.”

“I wasn’t- I mean, I didn’t-”

“Didn’t what? Don’t lie to me now, little pet. You know I can always tell.” His lips are so close to yours it feels like you can taste him already, his eyes dark and fiery even in the dim light of dusk. “What do you want? Be honest with me now.”

Your hands bury in his hair almost of their own volition, soft silver curls tangling between your fingers.

“Kiss me,” you whisper. “Please.”

You sound desperate, but you cannot bring yourself to care. Not as Astarion exhales, and closes the distance between you. His lips taste of your blood, bitter and coppery, but his tongue in your mouth is the sweetest honey. By the gods, he is good at what he does - soft noises falling from his mouth, his hard body pressing against you. His thumb rests against the pulse point of your neck, right where he left you scarred, and you feel like you are floating.

When he finally pulls back, you are both out of breath. His lips shimmer red from the blood on your own, and you can feel his desire - he looks at you like you are the most delicious meal he has ever seen after starving for years.

Maybe you are.

“Why did you bring me here?” he asks, his voice quiet and commanding. “What is it that you really desire, sweet thing?”

“I want you,” you admit, hating how your voice breaks even between those two words. “You may… need me, but I have come to realise I need you too. It’s not… you- I mean…”

“What is it, my darling? Use your words.” The gentle encouragement mixed with just the vaguest tint of mockery goes straight to your core and you curse your body for being so weak.

“I… I know this began as a favour,” you start, unsure of how to phrase what has been growing between you in such a short time. “But I… you know, it’s not just that anymore. Not for me. I… I like it.”

Your confession makes heat rise to your cheeks, and you bite your lip. Astarion stares at you, uncharacteristically lost for words, so you drone on.

“I like doing this for you- I like knowing I am helping you, I like knowing that you feel better- that you have become stronger because of me. I like seeing that your hands don’t shake so much anymore, and I like seeing you smile across the battlefield. It makes me happy- you make me happy. And you know, the pain fades after a while. I actually find it… quite… well, enjoyable. The way I feel when you drink from me… gods, Astarion, it’s indescribable.”

The flood of words spills from your lips like you have been holding it in for months, not days. Astarion still just stares at you, dumbfounded by your confession. Finally, he clears his throat.

“You… like it?” It sounds more like a question.

Gently, you take his hand into yours.

“Yes,” you confirm, smiling at him softly. “I’ve loved seeing you happy.”

“You- oh.” A plethora of emotions plays out on Astarion’s face in mere fractions of a second. You watch him intently. Finally, he clears his throat. “Well, I… I really don’t know how to respond to this. You, my love, are simply… incredible.”

Your smile grows broader.

“Why, thank you. I’m glad you finally noticed.”

A small smile appears on Astarion’s face at your teasing remark.

“I have been happier, haven’t I,” he muses. “I haven’t really… been happy in so long, I never noticed until you pointed it out.”

You worry your lip, but decide not to press him about it.

“I’m glad I can give you something,” you simply say. 

Astarion’s hand holds yours a little tighter.

“You give me more than I have ever dreamed of,” he murmurs. A devilish smile darkens his features as his eyes wander up and down your body. “I think it’s about time I give something back, don’t you think, my darling?”

༻────• ༻❁༺ •────༺

Previous Chapter « ❁ » Next Chapter [coming]

Hmmmm he is consuming my brain (much like the tadpole hshsh get it) ANYWAYS I am way too emotionally invested in him I support his evil. He has actively made me worse and I love him for it.

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#bg3 #astarion #astarion bg3 #bg3 smut #astarion x reader #astarion x you #gala writes #sugar series

[its-all-stardust]

Sugar || 3

Masterlist || Part Two || Part Four

Steven Grant/Sugar Mommy!Reader

Word count: 3.9k

Series Summary: You meet Steven in a museum gift shop and feel an instant connection. Before you walk out the door you decide, perhaps against your better judgment, that you need him to be your sugar baby. Now you just need him to let you treat him right.

A week goes by without a word from Steven. You told him to take his time; you expected him to. But that doesn’t stop you from thinking about him every day.

If he was going to say no, wouldn’t he have done it by now? Or he might not answer you at all. That, you think, is worse. You would rather know for sure than guess what the silence means.

You try not to feel disappointment for something that hasn’t even happened—technically, he hasn’t rejected you—but it still prowls in the back of your mind. You haven’t been this worried about something since your company got off the ground when everything was still uncertain, with no guarantee you could make a living.

You especially never felt this way about your other babies. The situations are entirely different. You didn’t have to worry about a referral rejecting you, not right out of the gate anyway. And all the ones you met through specific apps were the same: saying yes and figuring out if things worked as time went on. You at least had a couple of months with all your previous babies, each of you getting a feel for the other before mutually deciding to part ways for one reason or another.

And yet none of them were quite as unforgettable to you as Steven is. Try as you might, you still don’t understand how you’re so drawn to him. Maybe you see enough of yourself in him that you can’t help but want to take care of him, like how you wished someone had cared for you before you broke out and started making what would lead to your fortune.

But it means nothing if he says no. So, as much as you dislike it, you try to put him from your mind. You go about your days as usual, attending meetings, fielding phone calls from heads of different departments, approving the latest marketing budget, and finalizing every move your company makes to ensure you know exactly what is happening at all times. Technically, you don’t need to be as hands-on as you are. There are certainly other people in a similar position who aren’t. You could be on a beach somewhere, signing documents someone else has already read and approved for you. You could be the kind of CEO who never reads a thing and just puts your signature wherever you’re told. You would effectively be retired while still earning an ungodly amount of money. 

But you can’t do that; you can’t stand not knowing what’s happening with something that is your responsibility. You don’t want to rest easy, and you like working. While you have plenty—more than enough, really—saved away in investments, trusts, and more than a few bank accounts, you know how easily everything can be taken away. It almost happened once in the beginning, and ever since, you’ve been trying to ensure it never happens again.

And for all your worries about the state of your business, you don’t let it cross over into your after-work hours. You would, quite frankly, go insane if you didn’t clock out promptly at five. If nothing is on fire, it can wait until the next business day. The meeting you had the day of your dinner with Steven was a rare exception, but even then it only ran a few minutes past before you shut it down. The rest of the time was spent traveling from your office building to the restaurant.

You never understood people who worked later than they needed to. You’d much rather spend your evenings on things you enjoy, which, when you have one, is often your baby.

And you’re thinking of Steven again.

Would he like sitting with you while you were entertained by your other, mainly indoor, hobbies? Some of your other babies grew restless with the inactivity. Or would he be needy, constantly endearingly wanting your attention but never pushing too far?

You picture him looking at you with those beautiful brown eyes, begging for you to take him somewhere, talk to him, lavish him with affection—

Stop it.

Try as you might, it’s impossible to shake him. He’s in skin deep, and you have no clue how to carve him out.

Another week goes by, and still no word from Steven.

You had assumed, after he said he would tell you after he blushed so prettily and didn’t run screaming, that he would at least have the courtesy to tell you he had to turn you down. You’re less upset at this point and more irritated. Annoyed with Steven, sure, but annoyed at yourself for going against your better judgment, hoping that everything would turn out fine. You had to be smart to get where you are; you should have known better than to pick up a random person to try to make your sugar baby.

It’s Saturday night, and you’re cozied up on your couch, watching your favorite movie and enjoying a molten fudge brownie to drown your sorrows and anger. This was how you spent most weekends, in truth. All the money in the world didn’t make you any less of an introvert, uninterested in loud clubs or parties—unless you had a date to show off.

Which you don’t.

You scrape the crumbs from your plate and lick the fudge from your fork before tossing them down on the coffee table with a clatter, the sound making you wince.

Before long, the movie isn’t able to distract you. Still feeling a little spiteful, you grab your phone, letting the movie play for background noise.

You open the app you use to look for new babies—the one everyone has to pay to use. Maybe what you need is a professional, which many who use the app are. At the very least, you’ll have a more timely response from them. The professionals don’t play games. And even if you don’t see one tonight that catches your interest, there’s no harm in looking.

After glancing at a few profiles, you pause on one belonging to a dark-haired man with glasses. He says he lives in New York—you have your settings set internationally since you have the funds to bring someone to you—and you entertain the idea of asking him to relocate. You’ve never had someone move for you, but seeing how devoted a baby could be to you is always an ego boost.

Just as you’re about to send a few coins the man’s way—the paid in-app currency that mommies and daddies use to show interest and initiate contact with prospective babies—your phone chimes, the delicate notes of your ringtone filling the room.

A call. From Steven.

Disbelief fills you, tamping down some of your anger. It doesn’t dissipate entirely, though, and you’re tempted not to answer to teach Steven a lesson. But he’s not your baby, and reacting with anger before you hear him out isn’t fair to him.

Pausing your movie, you swipe to answer just before the call gets sent to voicemail.

“Hello,” you say simply, unwilling to try saying anything witty lest it comes across wrong over the phone. It’s happened before, and it’s never fun to have to backtrack and explain yourself, especially in such a delicate situation as this.

“For a second there, I was afraid you weren’t going to answer,” Steven says, sounding relieved.

“Why would you be afraid?”

“Because…” Steven hesitates. “Because it’s late, and I meant to talk to you sooner, I swear. But something…weird happened, and it was days later, and I could have sworn I left your number on Gus’s tank, but then it wasn’t there. And after everything else, I forgot for a day there and—”

“Steven,” you cut him off, ignoring the “forgetting” thing—for now. “Your answer?”

Steven is quiet for a moment. Then, a soft “Yes.”

“Yes, what? What do you want?” You need to hear him say it.

“Yes, I want to…be your sugar baby.” He whispers the last part as if he’s afraid to say the words out loud. If he doesn’t want to be called that, you won’t force it, but the affirmative response makes you grin.

“But I have some questions first,” he quickly adds.

“Of course. We’ll go over the terms and everything first before we make it official. Are you available tomorrow?”

You had Steven pick the meeting place, wanting him to be somewhere familiar and comfortable to discuss such an unfamiliar topic. The courtyard where you’re to meet Steven is small but lovely. You arrive a few minutes earlier than the set meeting time of ten. Early to ease Steven’s nerves, which you could hear from the other end of the line, and so you weren’t left feeling like you couldn’t do anything for the rest of the day now that you had one thing planned.

You spot Steven sitting on the bench in front of a ground fountain in the middle of the square, shoulder slumped and eyes staring down at the ground. You slowly approach, making sure your heeled boots clack loudly on the bricks. He looks up when you get close and jumps to his feet when he sees you, saying your name. Then he sticks out his hand before abruptly dropping it.

“Sorry. I’m not sure what the proper greeting for…this is.”

Smiling, you ask, “Would it be alright if I hugged you?”

Steven nods, his face flushing. You wonder, the longer you know him if that’ll ever stop. You hope it doesn’t.

Pleased, you step forward, tucking your arms under Steven’s while his come over your shoulders. His hold is light, like he isn’t sure how firmly to hold you. You tuck your chin onto his shoulder and close your eyes, enjoying his warmth. You relish affectionate touches with your babies, and Steven’s arms feel lovely around you.

It’s not a quick hug. You keep your arms around him, giving Steven a chance to relax into it. If he doesn’t, he may be one of the ones you forgo such actions with. Pleasantly, though, he readjusts his arms, settling their weight around you more completely to actually hold you.

He even lets out a pleased hum, and you have to bite your lip to keep your smile from turning into a too-wide grin.

Steven seems a little startled when you eventually pull away.

“So, what would you like to know?” you ask, sitting on the bench, setting your bag beside you on your free side.

“Right, erm…” He sits next to you, close but not too close. “What would I have to…do exactly?”

“Can you be more specific?” What a sugar baby does can encompass a number of things that vary for every mommy and daddy.

Steven looks around at the people passing by, shifting back and forth in his seat. “Would I have to…sleep with you?” he whispers.

It’s a fair question. Usually, one of the first a new baby will ask, and his hesitancy tells you that, for whatever reason, he’s shy about the topic.

“Only if we both want to and sometime in the future when we both know each other better,” you answer honestly.

You don’t sleep with all your babies, and it’s not a requirement for you. Some people don’t like sex with their mommies or daddies, and you’re not going to force someone to sleep with you. You can perfectly enjoy having a baby, being their mommy, without having sex with them.

“Oh,” Steven says evenly. You can’t quite make out what his tone means.

“And if you don’t want me to touch you at all, that’s fine. We don’t have to hug again or anything like that again if it’s uncomfortable for you.” Though you’ll be more than a little disappointed if that’s the case.

“The hug was nice!” Steven quickly assures you. “I just wasn’t sure if-if you’d need that for me to…”

“We don’t have to be sexual with each other for me to enjoy your company, Steven.”

He nods. “Good. That’s…good.”

Sometimes, you have trouble understanding what people mean when they speak. Steven’s an endearing sort of awkward, but you’re starting to learn that makes it hard to tell what he means.

Is he happy that he doesn’t have to have sex with a stranger? Or is he like some other people and disappointed that he doesn’t get to have a very-few-strings-attached relationship?

You’ll probably need to start asking for clarification in the future, but for now, don’t say anything and let the topic drop.

“What else do you have questions about?”

Steven shakes himself from his thoughts and turns back to you, no longer looking uncomfortable.

“Do you want me to quit my job?”

“Do you want to quit your job?” You’ve never asked a baby to quit working—if they even had a job to begin with—unless it was something that did more harm than good. Not to mention, it’s a good way to keep them busy when you’re not around. You can’t exactly be with your baby twenty-four-seven.

You don’t know what Steven goes through on a daily basis, though you can guess based on what his manager is like.

“Well, I don’t exactly love working with Donna,” Steven says, his mouth twisting when he mentions the woman of his apparent nightmares. “But the others aren’t so bad, and I really like it there. I mean, I wish I weren’t stuck in the gift shop, but it’s not all bad.”

“Then keep your job,” you shrug. “Set up a savings or investment account and put every paycheck in there. Then you have it for the future if you ever need it.”

“Are you sure?” Steven presses. “Because some of the things I read said I would have to.”

“If you need me to tell you to quit so it’s easier for you, then quit. But otherwise, I don’t care. I’m more than capable of working around your schedule. This is kind of another job, in a way.” He still looks unsure. You gently place your hand on his jaw, needing him to not just hear you but listen to you. “I want to take care of you, not control you.”

In a manner of speaking, you do control your babies, telling them what to wear and what to do to make you happy. Some even have a sort of persona around you that you find particularly pleasing. But you don’t force them to make life choices like that.

Helping someone quit their shitty job is vastly different than making someone stop doing something they enjoy. You’ve also noticed that it can be hard for new babies to give up the way of life they’re so used to. For them, it’s difficult to actually go through with not working when it’s all they’ve ever known, despite how often they’ve dreamt of never having to work ever again.

Steven doesn’t say anything, though he does seem to lean into your hand a little.

“So what’ll it be?” you prompt.

“I’ll keep my job,” he answers quietly, still mesmerized by your touch. You nod and take your hand away; you need his head clear.

“I just have one question for you before I start going over everything else.”

“Whatever you want to know.”

“Are you in any sort of relationship? Committed, casual?” You carefully watch Steven’s face, looking for any tells. You can’t always tell when people lie, but almost everyone has common cues indicating when they’re being deceitful.

“Oh, no! Nothing to worry about there,” he says with an awkward laugh. When he sees the slightly skeptical look on your face, he continues. “Let’s just say you’re the only one who’s been interested in me.”

His uncontrollable blush is on his face again, and he meets your eye without issue.

You have to bite your tongue to keep from asking Ever? Or recently? That’s something you can ask later if he’s willing to talk about it to sate your curiosity.

“Do people really do that?” Steven asks. “Date someone and be a sugar baby at the same time?”

“Of course, and usually consensually between all parties. It all comes down to what someone needs from their baby. Me, though? I like having them all to myself. It can be hard to try to fit in a third.”

“So I take it you’re not in a relationship?” Steven asks slowly.

You shake your head. “I’m not. It’s why I like having sugar babies.”

With the major questions out of the way, you start going into your expectations.

“There aren’t a lot of events that I attend, but I expect you to come with me,” you start, and Steven pulls out his phone. For a second, you’re confused, but as he starts typing., you see he’s making notes for himself. “Sometimes I like to take overnight trips, and I’d like you to come with me. We’ll have to go around your work schedule, though, so you always need to let me know your hours.

Steven writes it all down, mumbling the words to himself as you say them.

When I call, you answer. When I tell you to call me, you call me. No excuses.

If I ever tell you to do or not do something, you listen. It won’t ever be anything morally objectional. Depending on what it is, I’ll ask if you’re comfortable with it.

I’m your mommy, I expect please and thank you.

I like being affectionate. That means hugging, holding hands, and the like. I’d even like to be able to kiss you on the cheek if that’s alright with you.

I’ll give you a card. When you’re on your own, I expect you to use it. If I don’t see any large purchases on the statement, you’ll get a talking-to.

When we’re together, you ask me to buy things for you. Nothing is too big or too small.

I’ll be paying all your rent and any bills, so we’ll need to take time to get those sorted.

I’m paying you for your time, so you’ll get a payment every time we’re on a date or go out. Feel free to ask for more than I give you. There’s nothing wrong with being playful and saying you’re worth more.

“Also,” you say once you finish your last point. “Most of my babies are fine with informal, verbal agreements, but I can get something written up for you if you’d like.”

Steven is so focused on typing that he doesn’t realize you want his input. It isn’t until he registers what he’s typing that he finally looks up.

“Oh, sorry.” He locks his phone, putting his hands in his lap. “Is one better than the other?”

“Having a written agreement is more for the baby’s benefit. Based on my experience, babies like it because they can have a signed statement for continued payment for some time after the relationship ends. I usually only hear of high rollers doing it; that way, the baby is set up if things sour. And if the mommy or daddy doesn’t want to pay, the baby can threaten legal action, which usually gets settled out of court very quickly. A win-win for the baby.”

“And what would you get out of it?”

“For me personally? It would just be a way to hold you to the agreement enough to keep you from running out without notifying me. It’s fine if you don’t want to be my baby anymore, but I am at least owed a sort of resignation whenever the time comes.”

You remember that one baby you had a couple of years ago. He was new to the game, took his first payment, and left without speaking to you again. You were more annoyed at having to make someone track him down to ensure that nothing had happened to him than upset that he didn’t want to be a baby anymore.

“So, if I don’t want to be your baby anymore, I just say so and walk away?” Steven asks with a hint of skepticism, likely thinking that it surely can’t be that easy.

“Exactly. Like I said, I don’t want to control you or own you, but I think I deserve enough respect to be told you’re no longer interested.”

Steven thinks everything over for a moment.

“I can’t say I see myself wanting to sure you, so I think I’ll be okay without signing anything,” he eventually says.

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah, I mean, this doesn’t have to be as complicated as all that, does it?”

You give a small smile. “It doesn’t. This is supposed to be fun, after all.”

Steven smiles back at you, and you feel a flutter in your chest. Normally, your babies don’t set your heart pounding, but Steven isn’t quite like them. You push it out of your mind; it’s best not to get too attached, not like that anyway.

“Did you set up that account I asked you to?” you ask, ready to get on to the fun part of a new baby’s first arrangement.

Steven unlocks his phone and opens the online banking app you asked him to download last night. It’s the best way to send his payment, and then he can move it around however he likes afterward.

Pulling up the QR code to share his profile, you scan it with your app, adding him to your contacts. Then, you tap to start a transaction.

“This will be for our initial dinner and for today. Go ahead and type any amount you’d like in there,” you say, handing your phone to Steven.

He stares at the screen, frozen, like he’s afraid to move.

“Go on,” you urge him. You had wondered what he’d be like once he was told to start asking for money. Much like your other new babies, he’s hesitant, afraid to name a number, even though this whole arrangement revolves around money.

Steven looks up at you, eyes wide and biting his lip. Finally, looking back down at your phone, you watch as he types a single “1” before thrusting it back toward you.

You don’t take it. “Do you think that’s all you’re worth? Add some zeroes on there.”

Steven types one zero.

“Another,” you command. Very slowly, he types another. “Think you can give me one more?”

“I… That’s just…” Steven flounders, shaking his head.

“Steven.” Just his name, nothing more. Your voice is firm, leaving no room for argument.

This time, he quickly hits a third zero and practically throws the phone back at you.

“Good boy,” you say, quickly hitting the ‘transfer’ button to send the thousand pounds to Steven. You think you see him shiver.

You grin, already loving his reactions. You can’t wait to tease him, give him more.

“Now, what do you say?” you ask, tucking your phone back into your leather handbag.

“Thank you,” Steven says quietly, face once again flushed.

“You’re welcome, baby.” His eyes flit down shyly, but he doesn’t turn away from you.

Then you reach out and tug on the sleeve of his shirt, examining the fit and pattern.

“There’s one more thing I’d like to do today if you have the time,” you say, eyeing up the rest of his outfit.

“What’s that?” Steven asks, sounding nervous and perhaps a little excited.

Your eyes flick to meet his, that predatory look returning to your face.

“I want to take you clothes shopping.”

Series taglist: @multific @uncle-eggy

#moon knight x reader #steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #moon knight fanfic #x reader #sugar series

[xjustakay]

✺ (3/10) ✺ @jegulus-microfic prompt: sugar — 1,146 words (jegulus dads ft. harry; when the five year old is on a sugar high)

Immediately upon getting home from his meeting, Regulus is aware that things have not gone to plan. James was meant to pick up Harry from his mums’, and the two of them were supposed to decide on dinner and their entertainment for the evening. They usually have a movie night together, the three of them, when Harry first comes back to theirs again, but it seems his husband and his son had other plans upon coming home.

Because they’re out in the backyard on the trampoline. 

Regulus hears Harry’s loud laughter carrying from the back screen before he even has to check. Setting his keys aside, he makes his way to the door to the backyard. He stands there inside for a moment, helplessly fond as he watches where Harry sits cross-legged, looking up at James, waiting.

James bounces gently in place a short distance from where the five year old sits before launching himself to land on his feet closer beside him. It flings Harry a few inches off the trampoline’s surface, his little limbs flailing as he shrieks excitedly. He flops flat onto his back afterward, lost in a string of giggles that ends up turning into ‘again, again, again!’

Two peas in a pod, James laughs with him, then reaches with both hands to tow Harry back up in his previous position. Before James can properly send him bouncing as he had moments prior, both of their heads whip in the direction of the sliding screen door when Regulus opens it to step outside.

“Papa!” Harry smiles widely, waving over at him with both hands. “Papa, watch this! Daddy can make me fly.”

“Oh, he can, can he?” Regulus smirks, coming off the patio onto the grass near the trampoline.

Harry nods and looks up at James. “Show him, daddy.”

Despite the fact that he’d just witnessed it moments ago before joining them, Regulus plays along, pretending to be awed by the way James jumps and causes Harry to bounce up off the trampoline. Again, Harry giggles for several seconds, cheeks rosy and smile unrelenting as he rolls from being flopped on his back onto his belly.

“You gotta try it, papa,” Harry tells him. “Daddy’s been doing it for ages now and it’s so fun every time.”

Regulus chuckles with a slow shake of his head. “Where’s all this energy coming from, I wonder?”

“Cookies!” Harry answers immediately, squirming up onto his knees.

One dark brow arches, Regulus’ eyes shifting to James who has the decency to look momentarily sheepish under the questioning look.

“Cookies before dinner?” He asks pointedly.

“I can explain,” James starts.

“Mama was making a whole bunch of them and mum sent me here with a big plate to share with you and daddy,” Harry explains for him.

“So, really, that look should be reserved for Pandora and Lily, my love,” James chimes in.

Regulus smiles tightly, head cocking to the side. “I’m sure you’d prefer that.”

James grimaces faintly and clambers off the trampoline, out through the zip-up mesh opening that keeps the edges screened in, to come to Regulus’ side. A large hand falls at his waist, Regulus still managing to look sternly up at him even when James leans down to kiss his cheek. He clearly has been humoring their son for a while, because he’s flushed and a little sweaty, slightly out of breath and so warm at Regulus’ side.

“You know how hard it is to get him to settle down when he’s had too much sugar,” Regulus points out.

“I know, I’m sorry.” James smooths his hand along his lower back in a continuous motion.

Regulus hums, gaze drifting to where Harry half-runs, half-bounces around the full circle of the trampoline. “How many did you let him have?”

“Just one, I swear.” James follows his line of sight, stepping even nearer to him to curl his arm around his waist. “But he did mention that Pandora had been letting him help in the kitchen, and you know that means—”

“Licking all the spoons.”

“And handfuls of chocolate chips. Ah, and some of them are frosted, even, so uh… icing taste tests, too.”

“Great.” Regulus shakes his head. “This has to be some kind of payback for when we brought him and Luna back to theirs after all that cake and candy at Ron’s birthday party.”

James chuckles and squeezes gently at his side. “He’ll crash soon enough, surely.”

“I assumed that’s why you brought him out here in the first place,” Regulus says.

“It was either that, or his suggestion to build a pillow fort pirate ship in the living room. I felt this was less jarring for you to come home to.”

Regulus watches as Harry does a quick somersault only to spring back to his feet, bounce twice in place, and purposely land on his bum with another bounce. He laughs breathlessly, adjusting glasses knocked askew by the impact, and Regulus can’t help but huff a quiet laugh of his own. Hopped up on sugar as he may be, Harry’s joy is never a thing Regulus takes for granted. Even in the silliest of moments —if not especially then.

“You’re going to sleep like babies tonight,” Regulus comments.

“Probably true.”

“After a solid bath time because you’re both so gross right now.”

James snorts, giving a tilted nod of his head in agreement. “Fair.”

“Have to figure out dinner still, too.”

“We could order a pizza to make things easy?” James suggests. When Regulus nods in reply, he nods, too. “I can stay out here and help him run off some more of the sugar high if you want to go ring it in?”

“No, I’ll watch him. You go inside and get yourself some water before you pass out or something,” Regulus teases.

“I’m fine, thank you. I’m in excellent shape,” James scoffs. Lower, just for him, he murmurs, “A fact you’re very well aware of, my love.”

He punctuates the playful remark by nipping gently at the edge of Regulus’ jaw. Regulus bats him away, lips twitching upward in a smile that couldn’t be held back even if he tried.

“Heathen,” He mutters.

“That’s me. Your heathen husband.” James smacks an overdramatic kiss to Regulus’ cheek this time before separating.

Harry hops up closer to the trampoline’s edge, hands braced carefully on the outside net to ask, “What’s a heathen, papa?”

Regulus hears James laugh loudly behind him on his way inside. 

He shakes his head, grinning fondly as he looks back at Harry. “Don’t worry about that, darling. Why don’t you show me how your cartwheels are coming, hm?”

Harry brightens immediately, nodding and leaping backward. “Okay! Make sure you’re watching the whole time!”

Nothing else in the world seems more worth Regulus’ time than watching their boy be so happy. Riled up on sugar or otherwise.

#jegulus #jegulus microfic #starchaser #sunseeker #jeggy dads feels never let me down #also brought to you by my 5 y/o niece being so easily amused/distracted by the simplest of things when she’s hyper #+ also how i joke about winding her up on sugar before taking her back to her mom lmao #anyway #love jeggy and baby harry sooo much #sweet little silly loving family<3 #kay’s microfics #kay’s writing #jeggy dads series

[juneviews]

tenprem + flirting hard (pt. 2)

#cooking crush #cooking crush the series #tenprem #offgun #off jumpol #gun atthaphan #thai drama #my gifs #bypiningbisexuals #they'll be the death of me #the cause? sugar infection #I can't believe they're not even dating yet cdsiuuidehuezi

[sjbattleangel]

The Virgin Lily Orchard:

Sides with abusers

Lies about having Indigenous heritage

Is horrifically abusive to friends and family

Always sides with corporations

Writes awful revenge-fics out of spite

Fetishizes black women

Dismisses an entire cultural animation medium (anime) as "spankbait for perverts"

Wrote the worst writing advice ever

Has a pathetic vendetta against Rebecca Sugar for simply existing

Sends death threats to creators

Throws marginalized creators under the bus for not being "woke" enough

Lied about being a "highly sought-after writer" solely to spite Rebecca Sugar, ND Stevenson, Darron Nefcy, Dana Terrace and her sister

Hates Asians

Hates Jews

Holds nothing but contempt for animation

Wants all of animation to be nothing but slice-of-life romantic comedies

Wants the Hays code back

The Chad Rebecca Sugar:

One of the nicest people working in the industry

Has fought hard for diversity and representation in animation

Is incredibly talented

Is friends with Alex Hirsch (Gravity Falls), Matt Braly (Amphibia) and many others

Paved the way for more diverse creators

Has won multiple awards

Wrote and sang songs for Adventure Time

A non-binary, bisexual Jewish woman whose background and experiences influence her work

Created one of the most groundbreaking, inclusive, LGBTQ+ friendly shows of all time

Fought against higher-ups when they tried to censor the queerness of her work

Helped normalize discussions of kids' mental health

An uplifting inspiration to a generation of queer kids growing up

Influenced by both western animation and anime

Married to Ian Jones Quartey

#lily orchard #rebecca sugar #steven universe #lily orchard is a hack #anti-lily orchard #screw lily orchard #lily orchard critical #lily peet #cartoons #animated series #animation #virgin and chad #virgin vs chad #memes #meme #funny #jokes #anti-su critical #su critical critical #lily orchard is toxic

[harrywavycurly]

What You Deserve Part 2: Dave

Masterlist: Here

CW: None

Tag List: @littlered0000 @saramelaniemoon @ali-r3n @sapphire4082 @sweetmoonlove0214 @eddies-girl-22 @darknesseddiem @peaches-roses-sins @blckburd @comeonatmebruh @daisy-munson

A/N: I hope y’all enjoy this first glimpse at Eddie, I will say he is different than any other Eddie I’ve written and hopefully y’all like it! Also who doesn’t love a man that just goes along with whatever you’re saying just so you don’t feel weird?✨

#what you deserve series #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson au #eddie munson series #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #sugar daddy!eddie #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female reader #Eddie Munson x fem!reader fluff #Eddie Munson #Steve Harrington #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things au #social media au #my little dungeon master baby #my little fluffy haired baby