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dilemmaontwolegs · 5 months

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Hello can i ask a part 3 of crazy for you where you know about his dark tendencies but you can't and he won't let you leave him because your already pregnant (i know it takes time to figure out if your pregnant but let's just say Lando has a great sperm 🤭 and it's many weeks later) thanks 🫶

Crazy For The Three Of Us || LN4

Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, gaslighting, dub/con, dark themes WC: 2k F1 Masterlist || Part One || Part Two || Part Three || Part Four (final)

It took Lando another couple of weeks to finally get you to move in with him, not that you spent much time apart. You practically lived together but shared the time between your apartments next door. His argument made sense in the end, there really was no need to be paying rent when you could move in with him. So, you handed in your notice and moved your belongings into his place.

“Did this really need to be boxed up to move ten metres down the hall?” Lando teased as he opened the last box and tipped it out.

“Probably not,” you giggled as you helped fold the clothes and put them away. “What are we having for dinner?”

“Fridge is a bit empty, want takeaway or to go shopping?” You would always choose a home cooked meal and he knew it as he grabbed a hoodie and his keys. “Come on then, love.”

Determined to make the grocery run go faster, you sent Lando off to the chilled foods with his list and you made your way down the dried goods aisles. A familiar face stood in front of the sauces and you skipped up to him, touching his shoulder to get his attention.

“Hey Luke, how have you been? I haven’t heard from you in a while.”

“Hey,” he said weakly. He seemed wary as he took a step back, his eyes finding Lando as he walked down the aisle with a shopping trolley. “That’s probably for the best. I should get going.”

You frowned at his quickly retreating figure and wondered what you had done to offend him. It wasn’t like you had seen him anytime recently. Everytime plans were tried to line up, there was something already organised with Lando. Turning your back on him you saw Lando’s jaw clench as he stared at Luke’s back too.

“What’s that?” you asked as you nodded to his hands, his eyes softening as he broke away from his intense stare.

“I picked you up a test, love.” Lando held the little blue box up and shook it. “You’re a few days late.”

“How would you even know that?” You laughed as you took the box and started to place it on a random shelf you passed. “You wear condoms anyway, so stop being stupid.”

“Yeah, except when you practically raped me on the couch,” he snorted. “Please, Lando, just fuck me. You didn’t even give me a chance to get one.”

You stumbled and if you didn’t have a hand on the trolley you probably would have face planted on the vinyl floor. “No, tell me you’re joking, right?”

“Why would I joke about that?” He grabbed the test back and dropped it into the trolley as he continued on his way.

You rushed to catch up with him and grabbed his forearm. “Why are you not freaking out?”

“Why would I?” he asked calmly, his head tilting to the side as he saw the fear in your eyes. “I love you, we live together. Is it not the next step?”

“No, it’s not,” you corrected. “There’s a million steps between those things. There’s enjoying life, getting to know each other, getting married. I don’t even know if I want kids!”

He smiled and grabbed the back of your head to pull you into a crushing kiss. “You said kids, plural.”

“Lando, I’m trying to be calm right now. Please don’t make this worse.” You turned and stormed your way to the checkouts, tapping your foot impatiently as each item was scanned but it was the little blue box you kept your eyes fixed on. “It’s probably nothing anyway,” you muttered under your breath as you tried not to freak out. “It was one time.”

You couldn’t breathe as you stared at the little window that very clearly stated PREGNANT. It even had the audacity to tell you that you were 3-4 weeks along.

“It’s wrong, buy another one,” you said to Lando as you tossed the test in the trash.

He grabbed it out and stared at it, a little perplexed that it didn’t just have two little lines. “What do you mean?”

“Unless you can time travel, the test is wrong,” you growled as you ripped it from his hands and threw it back in the bin. “We had sex on your couch when I called in sick two weeks ago, so how can I be that far along? It’s faulty, go and buy another one.”

You gave him a push to the door before sinking onto the couch and dropping your head in your hands. You bolted back upright and narrowed your eyes at the seat, giving it a kick before heading to the kitchen instead. “Stupid fucking couch.”

By the time Lando returned, his hoodie pocket filled with half a dozen other brands of tests, you had cooked dinner and dessert and started baking some bread rolls for lunches as well. You kept your hands busy so you could distract yourself and it had worked until he dropped the boxes on the bench.

“There weren’t any more of those fancy ones but I got these,” he explained as he opened the boxes and pulled the tests out. “Have you drunk any water?”

You waved your empty bottle as you swiped them up and stalked back off to the bathroom, locking the door behind you.

“Baby, open up,” Lando said with a knock. “Let me in.”

“Just…give me a few minutes,” you begged as you sat on the toilet. “Please.”

“Okay, I’ll be out here when you’re ready.”

You heard his footsteps retreat and sighed as you closed your eyes to pray to anyone that would listen. “Please, please, please…”

Your prayers weren’t answered as every single test highlighted the reality of the situation. You were pregnant. You were pregnant. “Fuck.”

The alarm on your new phone blared that the baking was done and it spurred you to wash your hands and leave the room. You walked into the kitchen, feeling Lando’s eyes in you as you opened the oven and pulled out the tray from the oven. You didn’t feel the heat of the tray but Lando’s shout cut through the noise in your head before the pain flared on your palm. The tray clattered to the floor and you froze amongst the mess.

“Baby,” Lando whined as he grabbed your wrist and dragged you to the sink. “What the hell were you thinking?”

“I-I-I’m pregnant,” you whispered, still in a state of confusion as you stared at the ruined bread rolls. “I have a fucking bun in the oven.”

You were still in denial even as you watched the pulsing blob on the screen in front of you. Lando knew plenty of people around the city with his high profile and he had been able to get you a fast tracked appointment with an Obstetrician. You almost wished he would slow down but going fast was all he knew.

“Woah,” he breathed as the doctor pointed to the dot.

“That’s it’s heartbeat, fast and strong. I would say from the measurements we are looking at just over 5 weeks gestation.”

“Five! No, that can’t be right.”

“The measurements don’t lie,” he shrugged as he waved the wand to another angle to take a few more still shots. “But we go by your last known period, not the actual conception date if that helps.”

It didn’t. The dates still didn’t add up in your mind and you numbly accepted the print outs of the photos as you sat up.

“We will have another scan at 12 weeks-”

You zoned out as you stared at the blob, no, not a blob - a baby, your baby. Your thumb stroked over the image and you tried to imagine how in less than eight months it would be a human being that you would be responsible for. A wet splotch landed on the paper and you gasped as you rushed to brush the teardrop away. “Shit,” you sniffled as you accepted the tissue Lando grabbed for you.

“You’re going to be a great mother,” he said softly, taking the pictures away before you could ruin them further. “I can’t wait to tell our parents.”

You had barely been able to think about how you were reacting to the news but now you had to think about your parents as well. You had only ever briefly spoken to his parents and that was when they video called him on Christmas Day. The thought of telling them and your parents was almost enough to make you sick, and not the queasy kind you had felt waking each morning recently.

“Don’t you think we should wait?” you whispered as you sat in the passenger seat on the drive back to the apartment. “Most people wait until 12 weeks in case something happens.”

“You’re going to have the best care money can buy, baby, nothing’s going to happen.”

‘I thought we raised you better than that,’ your mother had sighed. ‘Unprotected sex is not an accident.’

‘What your mother means to say is, if you two are happy then we are happy for you,’ your father said as he placed a hand on his wife’s shoulder. ‘You are happy, right?’

Lando’s hand had warmed your leg as he ran his palm over your jeans, giving it a soft squeeze when you didn’t answer. “Uh, yeah, dad, I’m happy. It was just a shock is all. I think my brain is still trying to catch up with everything.”

You could hear the disappointment in your parent’s lacklustre congratulations before they bid you a goodnight. It weighed heavily on you as the video call ended and Lando slammed the lid of his laptop shut. His parents had been far more accepting of the information, but it wasn’t their first time being grandparents so it wasn’t such a change.

Lando went to the kitchen and boiled the kettle for your evening tea and you screwed up your face as he opened the new jar. “Can’t I have the chamomile? That one tastes better.”

As soon as the pregnancy test had come back positive he had thrown the sleep tea out, claiming it said it wasn’t suitable for pregnancy. It seemed absurd, but Lando wasn’t taking his chances and you were kind of endeared by how seriously he was taking his role as father-to-be.

“Come to bed with me,” you said as you slipped your arms around his waist while the tea steeped. His cologne made your mouth water and you buried your face in the back of this hoodie as you hugged him tighter. “These hormones are driving me crazy.”

The tea was forgotten as he turned and caught your chin in his warm hands, tipping your face back so he could claim your lips. “Crazy, huh?” he teased, taking a step and forcing you back until you were walking blindly to the bedroom. “I like it when you get a little crazy.”

Your knees hit the bed and you fell back amongst the blankets as he eyed you up hungrily. Need simmered in your core as he popped the button on your jeans and dragged them down your legs. Crawling up the bed, he groaned at the sight of your ass in the air and chuckled when you opened the bedside drawer.

“Where’s the- oh- I guess we don’t need them now,” you chuckled as you found the condom box missing. “Guess there is one perk to this accident.”

Lando flipped you onto his back and you found he had already thrown his clothes off in eagerness. “There are no accidents, love, just miracles.”

Click here for the final part.

#dark!lando #lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #formula one fanfiction #formula one imagine

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the-modern-typewriter · 10 months

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wgshdwgd im sorry if youre not accepting snippet reqs </333

but could i req you write abt a villain who *everyone* is genuinely terrified of. and then the hero just politely tells them to shut the fuck up. like, villain could be monologuing or smth and hero would cut them off saying that they would really appreciate it if villain could finish up in the next hour or so because they dont want to miss bargain day at the supermarket.

uwah im sorry if i broke any rules </33 stay safe its a crazy world out there <333

"-Could you please just shut up?"

There was a moment of absolute, horrified silence. One man promptly fainted. Nobody seemed to breathe for a few seconds.

The villain turned, slowly, towards the protagonist.

They were on their knees on the floor, surrounded by armed guards ready to execute the various staff still in their building. Their expression was one of exhausted long-suffering, one hand pinching the bridge of their nose as if to stave off a headache.

"Excuse me?" the villain asked, oh so softly.

"Will you please stop talking?" The protagonist dropped their hand, levelling the villain with a look. "Like, if you're going to slaughter the lot of us, just do it, don't make us listen to the spiel first. It's been forty five minutes."

"Are you so eager to die?"

"No. But if I'm going to die, I think I'd like to get it over with. Otherwise, I'd like to just go about my day. I need to buy food before the shop closes and takeaway costs a fortune. I mean, bloody hell. Forty five minutes. Do you really think anyone here is listening?"

The villain stared.

"Like, not to be rude," the protagonist said. "But they're all scared out their minds. They are not processing the finer points of your monologue. It's just so unnecessary."

"I could cut out your tongue and feed it to you."

"You don't have anything better to do?"

"I could cut out their tongues," the villain swept a hand around the room, "and feed them to you. That sorts out dinner, doesn't it?"

"I mean, I'm vegan, and not a cannibal, but I appreciate you're more concerned with being menacing than actually addressing the issue."

The villain stared some more.

The protagonist stared back.

"The data I need is still downloading," the villain said, after a long moment. "If I let you leave, someone will do something stupid like try and call the police."

"Sure, sure. But the monologue."

"You don't enjoy the sound of my voice?"

"I wouldn't take it too personally. It's been a week. Bit overstimulated, to be honest. Anyone's voice right now feels a bit like a cheese grater on my nerve endings."

"A bit like a cheese grater."

"No offense."

The villain blinked at them, slow and somewhat incredulous. "A cheese grater."

The protagonist shrugged.

"I'm assuming you didn't miss who I am in the last forty five minutes," the villain said.

"No."

"And yet."

"It's not that you're not terrifying," the protagonist said. "I just - forty five minutes. Humans aren't set up to be this stressed for forty minutes. My head is killing me. Processing all this - if you don't kill us - is going to be hard enough without having to fit in all the life admin I'm not currently getting done."

"Come here."

"...what?"

The villain crooked a finger to beckon the protagonist forward.

The protagonist swallowed, eyeing the villain warily, but didn't make them ask again. With a glance at the armed henchmen, they shuffled forwards to the spot the villain had gestured at their feet.

"You know," the villain said, "it's been a very long time since anyone has talked back to me."

"Sorry. I'm really not trying to be rude."

"No," the villain mused, head tilting with something alarmingly like curiosity as the protagonist came to a stop. "You're really not, are you? Turn."

"...turn?"

The villain gestured again, to indicate that the protagonist should face away from them.

"...You can't just give me all the orders at once? I get this is more dramatic, but I probably wouldn't be trying your patience as much if-"

The villain seized the nape of the protagonist's neck, like scruffing a kitten, making their breath catch.

Everyone watched for the inevitable torment. The punishment. The kill.

The villain's fingers dug into the knots of tension in the protagonist's neck, power sparking up the touch.

The protagonist sagged. "Holy shit," they breathed.

"Better?"

"Um. I mean - yes - but -"

"Good." The villain glanced up to the henchmen. "Shoot everyone else."

"What? Wait - no -"

The sound was deafening.

Then the silence was, once again, absolute.

"You didn't have to do that," the protagonist whispered. "I didn't mean - if I offended you -"

"Oh, you didn't, don't worry. That's why you're still alive. Tell me about yourself."

The villain's grip stayed unrelenting on the back of the protagonist's neck, holding them securely in place.

"T-tell-?"

"We still have ten minutes," the villain said, in a tone of great patience, "before the download completes. Tell me about yourself. I shouldn't be the one doing all the talking, after all. It's very rude of me, isn't it?"

Hesitantly, the protagonist talked, watching the blood pool on the floor. What else was there to do?

The computer finally gave a quiet beep to indicate that the download was complete.

"Good. Very good." The villain gave the protagonist's neck another gentle enough squeeze. "Now. Let's go grocery shopping," the villain said cheerfully. "Up you get. Dinner's on me."

#heroes and villains #antagonist and protagonist #writing #story #writing snippet #villains #villain

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junkdyke · 7 months

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That Time I Hooked Up With A Tumblr Mutual

Ok. Let me start by saying this is not a callout post, and this should be read as a humorous story, with some takeaway lessons at the end. Please enjoy my story of my weird ass encounter with a Tumblr mutual.

Part 1: The Backstory

Alight so boom. I had just returned home from a trip where I met a different Tumblr mutual. That trip was great but didn't end up going to plan, so long story short, ya girl was horny. I had never really had a one-night-stand or sought out a solely sexual hookup, so I started thinking maybe I could try it out, see how I like it. And through the sheer power of manifestation, that opportunity presented itself.

I was scrolling Tumblr and one of my mutuals posted asking if anyone was in (my area) and wanted to hang out. Mind you, I have never spoken to this mutual before. No DMs, maybe like 1 or 2 comments through tags and that's it. But, most of my moots are far as fuck, so when I saw she was near me I was like oh ayo, I'm free! Why not, I had nothing else going on! So I reply, and she DMs me.

So she introduces herself, we'll call her Chicle for reasons I'll get to later in the story lmao. Anyway, she gushes a little bit, saying she's been too shy to DM me and that I'm a really cool tattoo artist mutual, I say she's cute and seems cool, and she asks if I've ever been to this particular mall. I say I have and if she wants to cruise the mall with me. She says yeah I'd love to cruise the mall and "if I like her vibe, then maybe we can do something more fun." I say I'm down, she gives me her number.

So here is what I'm envisioning. We'll meet up at the mall, walk around and talk, get to know each other, have some laughs, get a snack, it was a Friday so maybe we could go out to like a bar or go dancing, and then maybe after that, possibly make-out or even have sex! I am not opposed to having sex after a first date if I'm really vibing with the person and if we've been talking for a bit before. Girls, this is not what happened.

Part 2: The Meeting

I get ready, and I drive to the mall. I park, we text on where to meetup and I head over to the Gamestop. I see her at the counter, go up and I'm like "are you buying Pokemon cards?" She starts laughing, she says "I didn't want you to see this!" I'm laughing, I told her it's cute, she finishes paying and we walk around. Cute start and thennnn it all starts to go downhill from here.

As we are walking out of the Gamestop, a minute and thirty seconds into meeting this stranger, she wraps her arm, not around my waist...but around my ass. And pulls me close. I'm instantly uncomfortable by how close this gesture is. She starts cooing in my ear about how she's "so glad I'm not a catfish" and "if I like her vibe because she really likes mine". We met not even 5 minutes ago, I have not had time to evaluate any vibes! But anyway! She asks if she wants smoke 🍃 so I agree, and we go outside, right across from where we just were.

I get to take like 1 hit from this pen, she then steps close to me and says "I'm so glad you're real" kisses me and squeezes my ass. I again feel the need to emphasize that at this point, it has still been less than 5 minutes since we've met, and we have exchanged about 10 messages only a couple hours prior. This is a stranger to me. ANYWAY.

We go back inside, she asks if I wanna walk around, I agree. We chat for a short bit of time, before we go to the food court. I wasn't hungry, so she got some food and we sat and talked. I had made some mention about my past and she wanted to know more so I'm like "okay, I'll give you my lore while you eat" so I basically tell Chicle my life story. Afterwards, we go to walk around more and I start trying to ask her questions so I can get to know her more. It becomes very apparent that she is not interested in getting to know each other lmao. I ask what she does for work, and what she's interested in, and she tells me she's interested in getting into (something animation related) and i'm like "oh ayo, that aligns with what I do" and start trying to get more info cause i'm curious, annd I get just the shortest fucking answers. Ok.

She ends up making a comment about how I'm probably more experienced than her, and I'm like "oh really? Well how many people have you been with?" and Chicle asks "are we counting online?" Now, there is nothing necessarily wrong with this...but it does become more clear on just how "online" this person is. Anyway, she has only been with a few people, never had a partner. It becomes very clear as to why she may have never had a partner.

Part 3: Inappropriate Behavior

We are walking around the mall, stopping in a few stores to look at stuff. Chicle is walking next to me and I am still trying to invoke conversation. But Chicle is not interested in conversation, because instead, she is deliberately and blatantly staring directly at my tits. What I mean is, mid-walking, she is at my side, craning her head to the side to make it incredibly clear that that is what she is doing. I straight up ask "are you...staring at my tits?" she confirms as such, and says something about her being a dog. The dog thing will come up again.

Chicle is at different points, holding me, kissing me, and saying various suggestive things. She grabs me and whispers in my ear "do you want to go back to my room" and I nervous laugh and say "uhhh, we'll see!" At another point, she says "you're so small, you want me to manhandle you and throw you around?" and I again nervous laugh. We're like in Hot Topic, and she start trying to makeout with me and grabbing my ass and says "you're making me so hard"(we'll put a pin in that) and I push her away and say "not in public". I can do a little PDA but this is a lot, and at this point I have known her for about 40 minutes, maybe an hour.

Continuing on, as we're walking through this crowded mall, she drapes her arm over my shoulder and starts grabbing my boob and trying to pinch my nipples, which I immediately pull away from and again say "not in public". Chicle again says "do you wanna get out of here and go back to my room" and I'm questioning what exactly she means, because the phrasing is a little weird. "what do you mean 'your room'?" and she says "I have a hotel room" so I'm a little confused cause I thought she lived in the area. She does.

"i got us a room"

Ya'll, this bitch preemptively booked a MOTEL ROOM without even asking me.

At this point, she has asked multiple times and each time I nervous laughed and said "haha maybe, we'll see, ehhh we'll see" To any normal person, my body language was extremely clear that I was uncomfortable. And again this is not a callout post, she is not a bad person, and everything that ultimately happened, I did consent to. But I will not sugarcoat the fact that this behavior was definitely inappropriate harassment, and there was absolutely some pressuring with the continuous asking. But as I mulled it over, there were 2 reasons I ultimately decided to agree and meet her at that motel.

I was craving intimacy

I had never done something like this before so..fuck it, let's do it for the plot.

And so, she gave me the address, we got in our respective cars, and we met at the motel.

Part 4: The Motel

We go to the room, put our stuff down, and I go to use the restroom. I'm thinking "oh shit, this is weird but alright, let's see what happens"

I come out of the restroom, wash my hands, and she comes over and we start kissing. Already it's fucking weird because the way she is kissing me is so goddamn fast, it's like someone inhaling a meal because they think it's gonna run away from them. Now idk about ya'll, but I like a slow, deep kiss. So already it's a mismatch, but whatever. She lifts me onto the sink, despite the weird kissing, it's hot. She has some really minty gum in her mouth, hence the name Chicle. Put a pin in that.

After a bit, we go to the bed, and I keep saying "how did you get me here" because honestly, I'm not fully comfortable, it's just a weird situation for me and I'm surprised I agree to it. But agree to it I did, so we get on the bed, and keep going. Now, even though she does not have much experience, she's not bad! But...I can tell there's certain things she's doing that I've seen. Or rather, read. Whew lad.

As we're getting into it, my clothes are coming off, she's saying "You're my favorite Tumblr mutual. I can't believe this is what my favorite Tumblr mutual is into." I don't even really know what to say to this because quite frankly, mentioning social media in bed in any capacity is kinda fucking cringe. But it just gets worse.

So, she's spitting on my pussy. And I, personally, have a strong aversion to spit. It's something that I tell anyone that is a potential sexual partner, but it this case, we obviously did not have a prior talk about our sexual boundaries. In this case, I'm like "okay whatever as long as it's just there" but I quickly say "hey uh, just please don't do that in my mouth or i'll throw up" lmao. She's like "Oh okay sorry sorry". But then at some point, without warning she smacks the FUCK out of my pussy, and I'm so taken aback I immediately say "UH DON'T DO THAT" and she again apologizes and says

"Oh sorry, you know I had to try that one. Like that Tumblr post, you know the one."

Ya'll, everything this bitch is doing, she is referencing posts from Tumblr. She is referencing the sexy fantasy butch/femme text posts from Tumblr and she is referencing them out loud. In the middle of real life sex.

She goes on to reference more posts, and the worst part is I know exactly the one's she's talking about. "Mutuals to lezz out with" etc etc, it's so fucking cringe, and she tells me about how she started wearing more of a certain article of clothing after I reblogged a picture of her in it and how embarrassed she is to admit that (I thought that was kinda cute actually) anyway

She's still going way too fast with like all her movements, I tell her to slow down and relax and I think at this point I mention how she did not have to do all that PDA shit from before. She says "well you know, on my Tumblr I do say I'm a dog" and then uh, she starts barking. 💀 literally starts going "woof, woof" and I tell her to s t o p. Jesus fucking christ.

Anyway, after mentioning Tumblr and calling me her favorite Tumblr mutual way too many fucking times, I'm on top of her. Mind you, this whole time, I'm kinda in and out dissociating, just due to how not fully comfortable I am with this. But ya know, I'm still going for it. Her shirts off, she has really cute boobs, and then I notice a really fucking huge bulge in her pants. And I fully dissociate. Not gonna lie, I started feeling really panicky, because straight up, I was not prepared for this. Physically, I'm still touching her, but my mind is fully disconnected, and I'm thinking "oh fuck. When she said 'you're making me so hard' was she being literal? I don't know if I'm comfortable with this. Should I tell her I want to stop? But I don't wanna hurt her feelings. Should I just take it? Well no, I don't really want to...maybe I'll just say 'hey is it cool if I don't touch it?' I mean, she's cute so ehhhhh let's just see what happens!" SO. We continue on.

We flip and she's now on top of me. She references another fucking Tumblr post, and says "do you wanna suck on this lesbian cock?", unzips her pants and pulls out...this MASSIVE transparent strap on. And I'm like oh, it was fake LMAO. Then I say "...yeah, so that's not going in me"

She ends up taking it off, I don't even know how the fuck she hid it in her jeans that entire time, and we continue on. Around this point, I'm starting to feel pretty spent, she did some other things like opening up my pussy to stare at it and describe the color, whatever, I'm kinda done and I just wanna cuddle. So we cuddle for a bit and again, it's physically nice but it's just so weird because she is SUCH a stranger to me that I can't get fully comfortable. She starts trying to start up again and I'm just not really in the mood anymore. She keeps playing with my nipples and typically whenever I'm touched in a way I'm not digging, I'll just take their hand and move it away as a silent but pretty clear way to indicate "no". But uh, I had to do that like 4 times with her before I verbally say "hey, please stop" and her response is "why" 💀 like wdym "why" bitch, cause i said so. I'm kinda surprised by this response so I start to say "Uhhhh, it's...kinda specific" and she goes "oh okay, sorry sorry".

So, honestly, I kinda just wanna go home but I don't wanna be mean and just take off. But there's also no way in hell I'm sleeping over in this motel room. So, I suggest we go out and maybe go to a club or something and she's like "uh, no. I don't like going out" 💀 like damn, maybe you should spend less time on FUCKING TUMBLR AND TRY GOING OUT IRL but whatever, instead we just go get food and bring it back to the room.

Part 5: What Could Have Been

We got some burgers, and she wants to open the Pokemon cards. We do, that's fun and cute, and she asks if I wanna keep some of the stickers that came in one of the packs.

Then she tells me that she had went to the library and checked out a book on tattoos since "she knows I'm a tattoo artist, and thought we could flip through it together." And I genuinely think this is such a cute fucking gesture, I think it's really sweet, and it frustrates the fuck out of me because of what this could have been.

I told her that she did not have to do all the PDA, it was a lot and it was excessive. She is not apologetic about it, and says that the reason she was like that was because "she needed me to know what her intentions were and that this was not just a 'friendly' meeting." so I reiterate that she did not have to do ALL OF THAT just for me to know that. And she just insists that in the past, girls have treated her like just a "bestie" so she needed to get her point across. Now call me old fashioned, but you could have just verbally fucking communicated "hey, i'm really attracted to you" and I would have caught the fucking drift. But okay!!

She asks me if I have any knives because I guess femmes tend to have a knife collection. I say no. And she fucking pulls out this huge ass lethal switchblade thing and is like "this is mine!" and i'm like oh god, this is it, I'm gonna fucking die in this motel room. But she doesn't kill me, she just shows me the cool knife and then puts it away. I have known this person for like 4 hours.

So, we flip through the book, and it's funny and cute, but she keeps trying to kiss me and instigate, and i'm just not interested, I just wanna flip through the book and go the fuck home. And that's pretty much what happens, we finish, I'm like "aight, ima head out" but

before i do

we end up making out again and then I think she was helping me put my shoes on?? she's on her knees in front of me and...she asks me to spit in her mouth. Once again, I have a major aversion to spit and i really, truly, do not want to spit in her mouth. But she says please...so I do like a half assed spit and hope it's good enough. She asks me to try again....so I get an accumulation and spit in her mouth, and she swallows it and i am so so sad about it 😭 and I finish getting my shit and I go the FUCK HOME.

Now here is what frustrates me about all this. Physically? This girl is extremely my type. I like the way she dresses, she has really nice arms, she has a cute face, she's really fucking attractive. She's interested in getting into the animation industry, which I'm currently also working on getting into as well. We could have talked about that and really had a cool discussion on what kind of projects she wants to do and what style she works in. She likes video games, we could have talked more about what games we like. She got this tattoo book because she knows I'm a tattoo artist, and I think that's really fucking cute. There's so many non-sexual aspects that could have made this a real fucking date where I got to know this person, and feel comfortable, and then we could have had really great sex because straight up, the girl was good. She may have learned it from Tumblr, and some of it was weird, but for the most part? She was damn good, especially for only having limited experience. This could have turned into something real! But NO. Chicle, instead, wanted to grope my tits in front of families an hour into meeting me, and made no effort to really let me get to know her in any capacity whatsoever! And it's not like she wanted this to be just a one-night-stand, because she had told me she was looking for a gf and asked me what I was looking for!

It just could have been so much better than this weird ass situation. And after the fact, she texted me and I answered a couple times, but when the following morning she said something to the effect of "it felt so good having you on my lap" I just never answered. Because prior to this, there was absolutely no established relationship, friendship or otherwise. And I could not see anything moving forward, because we couldn't backtrack into the aforementioned "could have been". I considered communicating how I didn't actually feel super comfortable with how things went, but I ultimately just decided to not reply. Shitty on my part, but again, there was no prior anything. And we just never spoke again, we remained mutuals, and so I never talked about this because uh, obviously she would see it. But since she blocked me, heyho now you all get the story!

Part 6: Epilogue

Now, the reason I decided to call her Chicle (Spanish for Gum)

So, while the nice minty gum was a nice gesture, her spitting that gum juice all over my vagina resulted in me getting a yeast infection💀 No more hookups.

So what lessons did we learn!

It's important to talk about sexual boundaries before having sex with someone!

Internet fantasy is not real life! Don't just do shit because you read about it in a fucking internet post or saw it in porn! (Especially when that person doesn't even make those kinds of posts, i don't reblog most of those for a reason)

Don't chew gum before going down on someone

Communication overall is really important for setting up any foundation, even if it is just a one-night hookup!

(yes this is ok the RB cause I spent forever writing this and I do genuinely think it's a very funny story. Sometimes ya just gotta do things for the plot so you get a good story out of it. No regrets, and my pussy is all healed up lmao)

#decided to make this it's own post oops #wlw #lesbian dating #lesbian #storytime #dykeposting #mine #ok to rb

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promptedwordsmith · 2 months

Note

I have a request my birthday is on March 3 so can you write something with the LDS boys?!?

Hi, thanks for the ask! I wasn't sure what you wanted me to write since I've already done a birthday post so I hope you don't mind what I chose instead! Happy birthday!!

(ps I also gave Caleb a shot as an extra treat I hope that's OK!)

LADS guys when you get injured

Rafayel:

Is furious but he’s not sure at who, you? The wanderer? Himself? He can’t believe it happened, it could have been so much worse, you could have died and what was he doing? Painting peacefully in his studio.

Is very clingy for the next few weeks, appearing at your door to make sure you’re taking care of yourself, and that’s after you had convinced him to not just sleep at your apartment.

When the doctor declares you fit to go back to work Rafayel refuses and makes you go for a second opinion, claiming the first is delusional, claiming you still had a slight limp and if you limped on the battlefield it could get you killed.

Claims he needs to nurse you back to health and he doesn’t tease you as much, he’s quite serious actually.

Tries to make you foods that are good for healing, three meals a day and thinks you don’t notice when he slips out to call the nutritionist he hired and collect the food from the chef.

Xavier:

Everything considered, he would give you the silent treatment while tenderly taking care of you, he’s supposed to be your partner at work and outside of work so why were you out there without him? If he had been there the wanderer wouldn’t have had even the slightest chance of hurting you like it did.

He’s constantly thinking about what could have happened and is more driven than ever to be there when you needed him.

When he did start talking to you again, he made sure to drill into your head how it made him feel for you to not even think of getting his help, that he understood you were strong and capable but that he was always available, he knows he could have made a difference and it’s never too safe to bring back up.

Makes sure you go to doctors’ appointments; he may not take proper care of himself, but everything be damned before he let you work yourself to death with this injury.

Tries to make you food but quickly learns if he wants you to be stationary and comfortable, he should not even approach the kitchen, opting to order the healthiest takeaways he can, sulking a bit you don’t trust him with the oven.

Zayne:

As your doctor he’s startled when you appear with a large injury, but he’s instantly more comfortable when he finds its mainly just superficial, doesn’t stop him from lecturing you about how you could let that happen.

Makes you go through every test he can justify you getting to check there’s no poison or corruption or anything that could risk your life in anyway and pays special attention to your heart.

He’s now more concerned for your safety, especially about if this is going to be more common and starts researching wanderers and whether they were getting stronger or smarter to cause this, start keeping up with any news on wanderer evolution.

Schedules a few more appointments for you than is really necessary but since its large he justifies it as a higher chance of infection because of its location, even though he’s busy he just extends his working hours to see you in a professional capacity or if he can’t do that because of working laws he’ll come see you as soon as his shifts are over to check on it.

When he’s sure you’re healed he reluctantly signs you fit for duty and gives you a stern lecture about avoiding those types of injuries in the future.

Caleb:

Doesn't hear about it for a while because he's occupied by his job, but the second he does he's desperately calling you and texting you, all while booking time off, a flight back and buying you get well soon gifts.

As soon as he's home, he's giving you a big hug asking how you are, what happened, "what does the other guy look like?" in a teasing tone.

Promises he's sticking around for at least a week, preferably until you're feeling better though, and makes you all your favourite food while he's there, insisting you stay at your grandma's while you recover so they can both dote on you.

Let's you talk his ear off, spends the whole time reminiscing with you and doing things you did together when you were younger, just being more careful with you of course.

When you eel better and before he leaves he makes you promise not to get hurt again any time soon, and makes sure you know he'll tease you like crazy if you do, ruffling your hair before he goes.

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becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys · 7 months

Note

Hi, this is an odd question but I've got a friend who visits the same part of Wales (near Bridgend) a lot and she's noticed that the chip shops around there also tend to be merged with Chinese restaurants and I was wondering if that was a common thing in Wales or maybe just that specific area.

It's not common, per se, but it does happen. Sometimes it used to be a fish and chip shop but got sold to be a Chinese, but the new owner wisely realised they could double their clientele if they kept the fryers. It does work, though I've yet to find the kind of chips I want from a fish and chip shop on the menu in one of these places - they always seem to buy in bags of neat ready-cut chips that they then fry up and serve, and that is absolutely fine but a true fish and chip shop does the slicing and prep and so the chips are thick, fat and messy (insert your own jokes here).

You know what I mean? You get this:

When what I want is this:

Not really a problem for me, though, because if I go to a Chinese takeaway, I want the Chinese food.

And, in fact, especially not a problem for me, because Swansea has the 5th Best Chip Shop in Britain:

Hiks for the win.

Also for Chinese in Swansea there's Gigi Gao's Authentic Chinese Restaurant, over in the Marina - opened by a woman who migrated to Britain, went to a Chinese, and went 'Wtf that is not Chinese food' and so opened her own. I went there last year not long after Chinese New Year, and all the tiger decorations were still up. As we were paying our bill we were discussing how beautiful they were, and I mentioned that I think I was born under the tiger. It was Gigi herself serving us, and she whipped out her phone and double checked my birthday, and then ran off and came back with a lucky gold banknote that they'd given out for the new year; she gave it to me with the sentence "For you, Tiger Girl! It will bring you luck with money!"

And I was charmed to hell and back by this anyway (plus the food is fucking orgasmically good) but then three weeks later I was offered my now-job at almost twice the salary I was on and it got me away from the awful people I was working with so like. There's also that.

Sorry this has become extremely rambling, what were we saying?

#asks #wales!#closed for cleaning on mondays #food

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familyvideostevie · 1 year

Note

Omg James idea, so rich boy James, that’s it, THAT is the idea, please go mad and mental with it pls pls pls

ok i know you probably wanted him to be cocky or maybe something filthy but this just HAPPENED so i'm SORRY!!!! i think he's too nice here. but what can i say, i need a nice boy atm. maybe i need to try something filthy and flirty with rich boy james later... | rich!james always pays for you. it's getting on your nerves. angst to fluff, 1.4k

You talk it through in your mind before you and James enter the restaurant. You're here to pick up takeaway and bring it back to his place for a movie night -- and you are determined to pay. You have cash in your pocket, ready to produce before he can even whip out his wallet.

It's silly, sure. But James always pays for you. And you know the reason why -- he's rich. You've always known that, even before you were together. Weekends at the country club with his parents, stories of holidays to places you've only dreamed of. His clothes are always a brand you've never heard of, beautiful shirts and creased trousers. Leather shoes and bags, a nice watch, and gold signet ring on one pinky. His flat is beautiful and far too big and you're not sure who pays the rent.

Sure, you thought he was an asshole at first. Most people do. But as you got to know him you found that he's always generous. He picks up the tab most nights out, always offers to get dinner for the boys when everyone is too busy to go to the shops, buys nice but personal presents for holidays and birthdays and just because. And you? Sometimes you think he's trying to buy you the world. And they're not empty, hollow gestures. He's loving in every way possible -- picking you up out of the blue and leaving you notes to find after he's left your apartment. His touches are free yet priceless, his hand on your elbow or your back or in yours worth a thousand dinners. James Potter was born to love, he's exploding with it everywhere he goes, and you feel incredibly lucky to be on the receiving end of it.

But the git won't let you pay for dinner. Ever. And you don't know how to bring it up with him. Is it because he thinks you can't? No, that's not James. Is it because he thinks you don't want to? Also stupid, also no. But it feels like you have something to prove, to show him that you want to do this, too.

But James being James, he finds a way to thwart your attempt.

"Pickup for Potter?" he says to the counter, one hand firmly in yours. You reach into your pocket, primed and ready. But before you can, he's handed a large paper bag and waved off.

"Don't we need to pay?" you say. James looks at you with mild interest.

"Did it when I ordered," he says. "Thought we'd want to get home fast as possible." You blink at him as your plan dies a slow death.

"Oh," you say.

"Thank you!" James calls to the restaurant, pulling you out the door and down the street back to his place. He doesn't try to chat with you, happy to stroll through the evening, swinging your hands as you walk. You, on the other hand, are trying to sort through the frustration you're feeling. Is it fair to be mad at him for this? In the grand scheme of things, it's not a big deal. Right?

But your mood remains in flux when you get back, as James unloads the food you've ordered onto his cozy kitchen table. "Are you alright, sweetheart?" he asks you. You realize you haven't said a word to him.

"James," you say, sucking in a big breath. "Can I ask you something?" He stills at your tone then runs a hang through his hair.

"Course," he says. "Anything." You sit and he follows, choosing the chair next to yours rather than across, the food forgotten for now. You cross your arms and your knee bounces up and down.

"Why don't you let me pay for anything?" You look at your hands as you say it. "I know you're rich, James, and that's fine, but it's making me feel like you think I can't, or that I shouldn't, or that I don't want to--"

James's hand is heavy on your knee, stilling it. You look up and find him staring at you, looking a few shades away from heartbroken. Like he can't believe he's made you think any of that.

"No," he says, breathily. "No, that's not it at all." You wait. He seems to be searching desperately for the words. "I know that you can, but I don't want you to waste money on me--"

"It's not a waste," you interrupt. "If mine's a waste on you then yours is a waste on me."

"I mean, what kind of a boyfriend would I be if I let you pay?" he tries. "That's not how you should be treated--"

"I think I can discern how I should be treated just fine, James," you say tightly. "Money doesn't mean anything." James scrubs his face with his free hand before flipping the palm on your knee up, begging for your touch. You grant it, though you don't totally want to continue this conversation. You're not sure that it's a fight worth having to begin with, but you're still frustrated.

"I'm not doing this right," he mutters. His shoulders go back as he sits up straight and he circles your hand in both of his, thumb stroking the top. "Look," he says, his dark brow furrowed. "I've got more money than I know what to do with. You know that. I didn't earn it, I don't need it, but I have it. I like to spend it on the people in my life that I love -- the people in my life that matter to me." He brings one big, wam palm to your cheek. You lean into the touch. "And that's you, darling," he finishes softly. "You're right that it doesn't mean anything. I know you'd be with me if I lived out of my car. I'd do everything I could to make you happy no matter my circumstances."

You sigh, turning your head so your lips brush the edge of his hand. He knows that, at least. That you'd love him with or without the money. "But, you're not going to let me pay for things, still?" James shakes his head, scoots his chair closer to yours. His knees slot between yours in a way that must be uncomfortable for him, but he doesn't seem to case so long as he's close.

"You can pay for whatever you want." The thumb on your face swipes under your eye. James touches you with tenderness you didn't know existed. "It's not that I don't think you can, or want to. I'm sorry that I made you think that. I know you want to..." He tucks his chin into his chest just a little bit.

"I want to take care of you, James," you murmur. "Partners take care of each other."

"I know," he says, looking at you again. "And you do. You take such good care of me. You remind me to bring my keys, you have my favorite tea in your cabinet, you run those magic fingers through my hair when I'm being a right asshole." He squeezes your face gently and you smile.

"Those are easy, James," you tell him. You mean it. Loving him is easy, always has been.

"And paying for your meals, or clothes, or anything you want is easier," he says firmly. "You know, one time Remus said to me that love isn't something that needs to be repaid. And he's right. But if I can use my stupid fortune to make you happy and comfortable then I will."

You pull his hand from your face and lean in so that your foreheads touch. "I'm getting dinner next week," you tell him. He huffs a breath and you feel it on your mouth.

"Whatever you want." He kisses you a little harder than you expected, his hand moving to the back of your head to keep you from falling back in your chair. You consider climbing into his lap right there, your worries assuaged for now, but then the kiss is over before you can move.

"Was this a fight?" James asks, turning to the cooling food. He remains in the chair next to you rather than moving across from you like a normal person. "If it was, does that mean we get to have make-up sex?"

You laugh, digging your knee into his thigh. "Let me eat the pasta my rich boyfriend bought for me first." He sighs dramatically, but he's smiling.

thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, masterlist here!

#james potter x reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james potter fanfiction #the marauders #marauders fanfiction

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rainydayandmondays · 5 months

Text

Thanksgiving Potluck

Summary: It’s time for the annual Thanksgiving potluck at work. Andy wants to make sure that he brings something special for you. You worked so hard, you deserve it.

Pairing: Andy Barber X Reader, Jake Jensen

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: 18+ only. Explicit language, explicit sexual content, male masturbation, slight non-con

Author's Note: This came about after seeing a challenge to write a spicy Thanksgiving story. With the blessing of @georgiapeach30513 to use Andy Barber, this is what I got.

You had been planning the department’s Thanksgiving potluck for weeks. Running around, trying to get everyone to sign up to bring in something, even if it was just silverware and napkins. Andy never participated in these get-togethers. They were some weird kind of team building bullshit that he had never really subscribed to. Why play nice that one day, while all the remaining days everyone was trying to one up each other. Comparing their win-loss ratios like they were some goddamn a-list athletes. The fucking Red Sox, they were not.

But you had started earlier this year, right around Valentine’s day. He remembered your first day, you wore your pink button down shirt the first two buttons undone and your simple gold necklace nestled in the crux of your shirt. Your pencil skirt was knee-length but seemed to hug from your waist to your hips. He imagined his hands could skim down the sides of it as if it was a second skin. Then your sensible flats, all that up top and did you finish with three-inch heels? No, just sensible flats. The red nail polish on your fingers with a small heart decals on each ring finger, let him know that you enjoyed celebrating holidays.

He watched you as you grew into the department, quickly planting roots and befriending each person you met. You were easy to get along with, never really asked for much, but always willing to give. He had spent most of October working with you. You were assisting on the research for his latest case, spending nights in the conference room with law books spread out in front of the two of you and boxes of half-eaten Chinese in each of your laps. You had asked about his story as you took a break from the mind-numbing reading of passage after passage. He had given you the cliff-notes version. The “everything is pretty on the outside” story. Loving wife at home and kid excelling in school. It was easier that way. Even if he could tell you didn’t totally buy it, you let him lie.

You on the other hand, were open. Told him everything. You were a paralegal, barely starting out with dreams of making it to law school one day. A sick mother at home had meant your law school dreams had taken the back burner. Your mom had been part of the last of the baby boomers and their idealized version of marriage. She had taken care of the household, you and your dad. With her bedbound, your dad was completely lost. You took over and everything else had been pushed aside. No sign of any romantic partners or life outside of work and home. But the glint in your eye talking about becoming lawyer, let him know you had more to offer. You had told him how you had aced your LSATS, spent every night up until 4 in the morning studying for them. You were younger then, could handle the late nights. Shit, you are younger now. Just barely hitting your late 20s, if he had to guess.

After those nights spent over cold takeaway dinners and finishing the McDonald v. City of Newton case, he realized that family dinners with little more than polite conversation paled in contrast to those talks and stale fast food. He had tried to get you on his next case, but Neal had snatched you up the moment you were free. He remembered the apologetic look you gave him when he swung by your desk with some briefs to review.

“Sorry Mr. Barber. I’m already working with Mr. Longudice. But you can leave those here and I’ll look at them when I get a chance.” You fidgeted with your pen, twirling it between your fingers. It was your nervous tick, he had noticed it the first night when you had found a passage that completely derailed his current case plan.

He nodded and walked away, noticing Neal looking on from the corner smirking. Fuck him, he wasn’t going to just use you to improve his standing in the department. He watched as the month progressed and Neal worked you into the ground. He found you more and more frequently in the break room, loading up on coffee. You were up to four glasses a day. That couldn’t be good for you. Not if you still had to go home and get your mom ready for bed.

He started to stay later and later, just to make sure someone was still here when you left. Neal took most of his case work home, leaving you with a list of readings to cover and present the next day. He watched as you flipped through pages, making notes in the growing stack of legal pads, and only the small desk lamp providing any light. He told Laurie that he had a big case he was finishing up. It was easier to keep working at his desk, instead of making the trip home, only to end up in his study. It didn’t take much to persuade her. He was pretty sure she preferred having the time to herself, she barely moved when he finally made it home to bed.

One night, he had timed it just right to meet you at the elevators at the end of the night. He walked up behind you, watching as you raised your right foot to scratch at the back of your left calf. Your pencil skirt rippled around your hips as you ran your foot down your leg. The sensible flats, the same ones you had worn that first day skimmed down the back of your left calf and he wondered what it would be like to have you run those sensible flats down his pant leg. He could feel himself twitch in his dress pants. This was a first. Up until this point, he had found you endearing, wanting to help you as much as you helped everyone else. But now, right now, he could imagine grabbing onto your hips, dipping his head into the crook of you neck as he ground against your pert ass. He felt his cock harden that bit more at the image, starting to push against the fly of his dress pants. Using his overcoat from that day’s chilly morning, he covertly covered the front of his slacks.

It wasn’t until the chime announced the elevator’s arrival and you turned around, that he came out of his brief stupor. You smiled and waved him into the waiting lift. That smile did nothing to help him, he shoved his hand into pocket to discreetly adjust himself before walking towards you. Standing next to you, he could smell those last remnants of your perfume. Was it your perfume? It had been a 12 hour work day, maybe that smell was just you. Why hadn’t he noticed that before? You chatted with him, promising that you were going to get to those briefs he left. It would be the first thing you would work on the next day. He listened and tried his best to feign interest, but you then looked up at him as you made your promise to him, and all his brainpower was immediately redirected to willing away his excitement. His hand still in his pocket, it brushed against his tip and he cleared his throat to cover the small groan that wanted to escape.

Reaching the garage, he offered to walk you to your car. You had gestured to the nearly empty lot, but he only uttered, “Better to be safe.”

You only nodded, leading him to your small late 2000s sedan. Reaching the car, you opened the squeaky driver’s door and threw in your workbag and handbag, before easing yourself into the seat. Andy held the door open for you, only to close it once you had settled. Lowering your window, you gave him a smile, thanking him for the escort, “You really didn’t have to do that. You’re a good man, Mr. Barber.”

He leaned down into your window, sighing before bidding you a good night, “You get home safe, sweetheart.”

He hadn’t meant to let the term of endearment slip, but your bashful smile was all it took to let him know he would be using that name again. Watching as you drove off, he made his way to his car. Popping the trunk on the Audi and throwing in the coat and briefcase, he hustled back to front of the car. Giving one more look around the lot, he noticed the security cam pointed at the opposite corner of the garage. Slipping into the driver’s seat, he only took a second to think through his next action. Closing his eyes, he remembered your big eyes looking up at him in the elevator, promising him something and his hand reached down to his pants.

He hadn’t gone down, no matter how he tried to calm himself, his coat had been his only saving grace, hiding away his reaction to you. Wrestling with his belt and button of his pants, he shoved his fly open, grabbing onto himself through his boxer briefs. He had already been steadily growing a nice wet spot on the front side of his briefs. Admittedly, bumping against himself with his hand in his pocket as he walked with you, might have gone a long way to making that spot. A couple of strokes, he reached in and pulled himself out.

Fuck, his hands were still cold from outside. It made his cock jump in his hold and he imagined your little hand taking him. You would apologize to him about your cold hands.

“Sorry Mr. Barber. Let me warm up my hands.” The imaginary you whispered to him.

“Andy. Call me Andy, sweetheart.” He mumbled into the empty car.

He spit into the palm of his hand, before wrapping it around himself. He could feel you next to him, cuddling as much as possible against him, reaching across the console. Your hand stoking up and down, making sure to twist around the head of his cock. He dribbled onto your fingers and you took your thumb rubbing it along the tip urging more to come out.

“Fuck sweetheart. That feels so good. You’re making me feel so good.” He grunted, his head falling back against the headrest.

He could hear you giggle at that, pressing hard against the vein on the underside of his cock, causing it to throb in your hold.

“Ah shit, sweetheart, squeeze me. I know your hand is so little but try my sweet girl. Come on, try for me.” You would hum at that, reaching between his legs and grabbing onto his sack. Rolling his balls in one hand as you steadily stroked him with the other, giving a squeeze to his cock before a squeeze to his sack.

“What do you need Andy? Whatever you need, I promise I’ll give it to you. Please Andy, tell me what you need.” The imaginary you nipped at his neck, murmuring another promise into his neck.

“Fuck me, sweet girl. Look at me, watch me cum for you. Just for you, sweet girl. Just for you…” He reached for the empty coffee tumbler in his console, placing it under the tip of his cock as he let go. Groaning he pulsed a couple times, continuing to stroke himself until he drained himself fully, because that’s what you would do. You would never do a half ass job.

Sitting back, he looked into the tumbler, seeing a layer of his cum coating the bottom of the cup. He hadn’t cum that hard in a long time. But he supposed a sexless marriage would leave him with a lot of pent-up energy. Remembering Laurie, he grabbed a couple of napkins from the glove compartment, wiping himself before shoving them into the tumbler. After buckling his pants, he started the car, backing out lot and turning onto the freeway for home.

That night had been a couple of weeks ago and he found himself hovering around your desk as much as possible, asking for help finding a text. He would time your coffee breaks and bump into you in the breakroom to make small talk with you. Each time he saw you, he tried to get you to smile. Even on your most stressful days, your shoulders hunch, he would make quick jabs at Neal which would inevitably cause a small giggle to pass your lips. He liked those times, the sound of your laugh would get stored away in his mind, coming out only in the shower as he painted the walls for you.

When you came by with the potluck sign up sheet earlier this week, you mentioned that there were still a few sides left that no one had chosen. Looking at the list, he saw the mashed potatoes listed and quickly jotted his name down beside it. He could probably get Laurie to make it for him. She had been in a better mood recently. Had waited up for him when he worked late. She would welcome him to bed and curl into his side, rubbing circles along his chest. He wasn’t sure what had changed, but if it meant not having to deal with a moody Laurie daily, he would take it.

The day of the potluck, he walked in finding most of the office milling about. It didn’t look like much would be getting done today. With Thanksgiving tomorrow, most had spent the last few days easing into their vacation. He looked at the conference room to see the spread already laid out, you were flitting around making sure everything was set up just right.

“Here you go, sweetheart,” you jumped a little as he came up behind you, placing the dish of mashed potatoes in front of you.

“This will be perfect,” you took the dish moving it next to someone’s version of cornbread stuffing.

Turning around, you smiled at him. He thought about stepping back from you, but instead stood still. Reaching up to his arm, you grabbed his elbow and let out small breath, “I should let everyone know it’s ready.”

Slipping from around him, you walked out to the bull pin area, inviting everyone to come and dig in. He watched as everyone hustled to the conference room as he stepped out of the other door. Making his way towards his desk, he settled down, starting up his computer to check some late correspondence. He needed to spend time with you but not with everyone around. He placed his coffee tumbler on the clay coaster that Jacob had made him back in 4th grade. Sighing, he would wait to talk with you later.

The din in the conference room started to slowly die down and looking at the clock he saw that it was nearly half past 2. Most of the office should be heading out for their holiday and he figured, now would be his best bet. Grabbing his stuff together, he headed back out to find the room mostly empty. He couldn’t possibly have missed you, could he? Staring out to the row of desks, he spotted your workbag and handbag still on your desk. So, you were here, just not in the conference room.

Walking into the breakroom, he saw you at the sink scrapping off food into the trash and rinsing off dishes. Standing in the doorway, he watched this small glimpse into the domestic side of you and fuck, if it didn’t do something for him. Imagining coming home to you in the kitchen, prepping dinner for the two of you. You would still have your work clothes on but only now you would be barefoot. You would relax into him as he came up behind you, arms circling your waist.

He let out a quick breath, shaking himself from his daydream, before setting down his bag on the small table in the room. Coffee tumbler in hand, he approached you, quietly interrupting your dishwashing, “I bet you haven’t even made yourself a plate.”

Looking down, followed by a small bashful smile, you nodded, “There was so much to do.”

Grabbing onto his mashed potatoes, he looked for a spoon before starting to serve a portion onto a plate, “Come on. It’s your potluck too. You should get to enjoy it too. Besides, you got to at least try these mashed potatoes. A lot of effort went into making them. Go on now, sit down.”

Watching you sit down, he turns back to the counter, grabbing the gravy boat beside the sink. Taking the coffee tumbler, he had set down, he carefully removed the lid before emptying the contents into the remaining gravy. He stared as the viscous liquid drizzled out. With the spoon, he quickly mixed the gravy with the new ingredient together before pouring out the mixture on the mashed potatoes.

Turning back towards you, you sat at the table patiently waiting for him as he set the plate in front you. Quickly thanking him, you dug in, spooning a generous amount, gravy and all, onto your utensil and bringing to your mouth.

“Mmm, that’s really good Mr. Barber. Kind of earthy tasting. Are there mushrooms in the gravy?” You looked at him, a small amount of gravy stuck to the side of your mouth.

“Something like that,” he whispered, eyeing that speck of gravy and reaching out to clean it from your lip.

“Oh, I’m a mess,” your cheeks heated as you grabbed a napkin to clean the corner of your mouth.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” he replied, taking his thumb with gravy still on it and licking it clean, “Go ahead, finish it all.”

You followed his direction, cleaning your plate, your spoon making a sound as you laid it down. You had eaten it all. Enjoying it, if he were to go by the little happy noises you made as you ate. He knew you would love it.

“Here, let me put this up for you,” he took the plate and spoon back the sink and as he rinsed the plate, he asked over his shoulder, “Did you like it, sweetheart?”

“Yes, Mr. Barber. I promise.”

He gulped, steadying himself against the counter at your promise.

“You know, what, why don’t you take the rest home? There’s still a little bit of mashed potatoes and gravy left,” he asked already reaching for the lid of the Tupperware Laurie had used when packing it this morning.

“I couldn’t do that. You made it, you should take it home,” you answered next to him, and he realized that you must have gotten up from the table.

Locking the lid on the dish, he turned to you, already handing over the remaining potatoes covered in his gravy, “I insist.”

He had made that gravy just for you. After stroking another one out in the front seat of his car in the courthouse parking garage, he had sprayed another load into his tumbler. Looking at the cup again, he swore each session’s load was getting bigger even though this was a daily occurrence at this point. It had ended with a particularly bountiful finish, as he imagined you between his legs. Head bobbing on this cock, tits hanging from your top, before you had spit onto his cock, trapping it between your breasts and finishing him with a hard snuck to just the mushroom head of his cock.

It hit him then what a waste it was to rinse out his tumbler every night when he got home. You would love the taste of him. He knew would. Over the next few days, he collected each load, storing it in his coffee tumbler on the top shelf of his fridge at home. He had a couple of close calls when Laurie asked why he was keeping his coffee cold. He brushed it off, saying it was just water. He was trying to stop drinking so much coffee. Bad for his health. She had just nodded, leaving the tumbler alone.

“Thank you, Mr. Barber,” you nodded taking the dish with a smile.

“You can call me Andy. Promise you will?” He asked, shoving his hands into his pockets, giving himself room in the suddenly tight pants.

“I promise. Thank you, Andy,” smiling up at him, he swore you could feel what he did. He swore you knew exactly what he had given you. Swore that you were happy and willing to take it. His sweet girl would take anything he gave her.

“You almost done, Ace?”

Andy was interrupted from his trance, hearing a male voice enter the room.

“Jake!” You called to the blonde man walking into the room. His shirt was untucked and his tie not quite knotted straight.

“I’m supposed to take you out for a Friendsgiving dinner today, remember?” Jake moved towards you, wrapping an arm around your waist.

Who in the ever-loving fuck is this guy? Andy watched as you hugged Jake around the waist, shaking your head, ready to apologize, “I’m sorry Jake. My day got away from me. Oh, this my kind of boss, Andy. Andy Barber.”

Jake reached out a hand to him to shake while his other still stayed slung along your waist, “Jake. Nice to meet you.”

Andy looked at the hand in front of him, before nodding and giving this fucker a firm handshake. If he squeezed a little harder than he should, well that wasn’t on him.

“Go get your stuff together and then we’ll head out,” Jake whispered down at you, to which you just nodded and flitted out the room.

Stuck with just Jake in the room, Andy leaning back against the sink giving this other guy a once over. He wouldn’t be an issue. No way did this guy have the prowess or charm to lure you away. You were his sweet girl. This fucker wouldn’t change that.

“I’m only going to say this once, leave her alone.”

Andy looked back at Jake, eyebrow raised, before scoffing, “And who are you exactly?”

“I’m guy who knows how to download the feed from the parking garage’s cameras.” Andy swallowed hard as Jake stared him down. He refused to nod, instead crossing his arms and looking down.

“I’m ready Jake!” You came back in, your handbag slung over your shoulder and the mashed potatoes in your arms as Jake took your workbag from you.

“Let’s shake a leg then, Ace,” you giggled at Jake and Andy frowned. When did that giggle change from just being his?

“Bye Andy. I’ll see you next week. Happy Thanksgiving!”

Waving goodbye to the two of you, Andy waited to hear the ding of the elevator before grabbing the tumbler and throwing it across the room. It clanked against the wall before rolling back towards his feet.

Hands on hips, he looked down at the cup. It was okay. Jake couldn’t do anything to him. He had checked to make sure the cameras were never pointed at him. But you, his sweet girl, he needed a new plan. Grabbing the cup from the floor, he rinsed it before setting it next to the empty coffee maker.

It hit Andy then. You did love your coffee. And you always made sure to have cream with it.

@buckybarnesisdaddy, @theinheriteddutchess, @sarahdonald87

#andy barber #andy barber x reader #andy barber fanfiction #andy barber smut #defending jacob #dark andy barber #jake jensen #the losers (2010)

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rizzyu · 6 months

Text

Period Care HC

Pairing: Vox, Mysta, Luca, Ike, Shu x fem! reader

Category: Fluff, comfort

Warning: None

A/N: For my buddy chum pals who gotta endure this type of pain every once in a while :)

Luckily for me, my periods aren’t that serious and they last very short

Vox Akuma

Would definitely cook the finest foods for you to help with your cravings

He loves to see your expression lighten when he cooks for you, especially during this period of time where you had to endure this cycle again

Sometimes he would offer to help you change your pads/tampons, which always got you flustered as heck.

But who are you to deny him when he worked this hard for you? And so uhh yea we don’t need the details on what happened after that

At night he loves to cuddle you in bed

He’d leave soft, gentle kisses all over your cheeks, forehead, lips, neck, shoulders… you name it (that’s because he knew that you crave for his kisses during your period)

He’d also whisper affirmative words in your ear as you sleep soundly in his arms :)

Mysta Rias

He didn’t know much about periods but even so, he’d still do his best to take care of you

He’d even take a few days off his detective job just to accompany and look after you

He’d go out to buy takeaway, snacks, pads/tampons etc…

Though he wouldn’t wanna leave your for too long since he didn’t want you to feel lonely when you’re at home by yourself

He made sure not to do stupid things to piss you off (he thinks you’re terrifying when you get pissed off during your period)

Would send you a ton load of cursed memes to cheer you up :)

Luca Kaneshiro

Would not allow you to move a single muscle

Bro had you sitting in bed, back propped up by a pillow while he rummages through your house getting you snacks, tea, painkillers you name it

Honestly, he would act as if you caught a severe illness

You’d occasionally try to get off the bed to let your muscles loosen up a bit, but Luca would rush over to you, urging you to get more rest

“Babe! You have to rest! I’ll take care of everything in the house! So don’t worry and get some sleep”

“Luca, I’m not sick- “

Your protests would fall on deaf ears as he literally carries you back to bed :)

Ike Eveland

Bro’s the sweetest when you’re on your period

Much like Luca, he’d take good care of you everything in your home so that you wouldn’t have to work yourself (but not as dramatic and overexaggerated as Luca)

He’d help you buy all the items you needed. Would also either order you takeout or make you something to eat

Usually on the nights of your period, he’d have you laying comfortably on top of him on the couch as you watch something on TV

Feeling him stroke your hair and listening to his heartbeat as you had your cheek pressed against his chest always soothed your period pain

It wouldn’t be long before both of you fell asleep on each other (while the TV’s still playing)

Shu Yamino

Bro loves to do various things with you to take your mind of your annoying period

Sometimes you two would play video games together

Sometimes you’d draw little doodles together

He always made sure to help you feel as comfortable as possible on your period

Which was why he loves to cuddle you on your period

You’d lay your head on his shoulder as he’d rub circles on your lower abdomen to soothe your cramps

He’d also rant about his recent streams until you fall asleep on him :)

bro you do not understand how much I love the Mysta fanart here

#riyugu writing #yorutenshi riyugu #nijisanjien #nijisanjien x reader #luxiem #luxiem x reader #nijisanji #nijisanji x reader #luxiem x reader fluff #vox akuma #vox akuma x reader #mysta rias #mysta rias x reader #luca kaneshiro #luca kaneshiro x reader #ike eveland #ike eveland x reader #shu yamino x reader #shu yamino

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sleepyghostuwu · 1 year

Note

Hiiiiii I absolutely love ur fics🥺 and I'm glad that ur request is open. So if it isn't such a bother can I request for Dazai, Chuuya and Jouno or just any characters u want to add where their s/o was absent for 2 days straight then show up with the largest bruise under their thighs. Pain is a bitch I realized that now.

Yes this happen to me bc me and my 5'3 height fall off a chair while getting something from a cabinet and my cousin just casually laugh at me until we realize that I couldn't fucken move or properly sit for 2 days🥹

Hoiiii! I'm really glad to know that you love my fics hehe :D And oof- falling off a chair sounds painful- also glad to know that you're alright now :'0 and enjoy the fic :D

A pain in the butt (literally): Dazai, Chuuya and Jouno

Dazai:

Get ready for him to dramatically lament about how he missed you for the past two days like the drama king he is-

Considering that your injury (probably) isn't as obvious while you're standing, it doesn't strike Dazai that you were quite badly injured until he heard your uneven footsteps and a loud grimace as you uncomfortably shifted in your usually comfy swivel chair.

His suspicions were confirmed when he spots what looked like a part of a very bad bruise behind one of your legs. Ouch.

He will make sure that you experience as little pain as humanly possible while your bruises heal, starting with investing in a chair cushion for you.

Will also sweep you up bridal style by surprise every now and then when he's slacking off and manages to see you getting up to go somewhere so he can carry you to your destination.

Having a difficult time getting off your seat to head to Uzumaki for lunch? He'll takeaway your favourite food from there and give it to you in no time.

Will also accompany you to eat lunch in the office so you won't feel lonely without him and vice versa :)

Overall, Dazai does whatever he thinks he's capable in to take care of you, a nice quality to look for in a partner :D

Just try your best not to injure yourself in such an unconventional manner again. He's very open to teasing you about it if it happens a little too regularly-

Chuuya:

Chuuya was very much concerned about your absence over the past few days, even more so because you didn't elaborate on your condition to him.

His usually annoyed demeanor masks that though, so be prepared to hear a harsher voice rather than a kind one when he asks you where you've been.

Don't take it personally though, he's just tired from work.

He's confounded at the predicament you've gotten yourself into two days prior, and definitely shocked when he saw the bruises you sustained at the back of your thighs.

Needless to say, his concern for you was now more evident.

After seeing you struggle to sit comfortably in your seat once, Chuuya decided that his gravity manipulation would help to keep your bruises the slightest bit off your seat.

Having trouble walking? It's bridal-style time! Your legs need it.

Will spoil you with your favourite food during mealtimes at work.

He's also willing to buy back lunch to eat with you in the office so you won't be lonely without him then :) Anything for his beloved, after all ;)

Jouno:

Jouno sensed that something- no, someone- was missing in action. Judging by how he couldn't hear your pulse or breathing, he concluded that that someone happened to be you.

Was he concerned that you were gone and silent about it? Slightly. Was that concern visible? Not the slightest bit.

When you returned to work, Jouno's internal relief was short-lived upon noticing that you had difficulty walking properly with both legs and you struggled painfully with sitting on your seat.

You can see his confusion upon hearing that you bruised the back of your thighs from a fall. Clearly such a manner of injury didn't seem possible to him till now.

Nags at you for being so careless because the way you injured yourself was so absurd to him that he couldn't believe you out of all people would sustain such an injury.

Even so, he does his best to show more care towards you in your current state, be it checking up on you every now and then or buying you food when you need it. Just small kind gestures to express his love for you :)

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mcufan72 · 22 days

Text

Sugar and Cinnamon

Loki x female reader (AU)/ 18+

Chapter 10

Chapter 9

Warnings: contains fluff, smut, unprotected sex, alcohol and cigarette consumption, angst, soft!dom/sub vibes, angry-fucking (consensual), stubborn reader

I played a little bit 'what if...' and no, I'm not retelling MCU stuff, I always create my own

It took you some hours to find sleep last night. You didn't even remember when and how you returned from the library back home. You were kind of paralyzed after you had found out the truth about Luke… no, Loki was his name. It wasn't the fact that you had fallen in love with an alien or that he was maybe the demi-god from the myths. It was the fact that the newspaper articles, which you didn't even read completely, were saying that he was a bad guy, an invader, evil, destructive and a ‘war criminal’. Maybe he had been all of this but you weren't in a position to judge him for that and also you'd never do that. What confused you was that it absolutely didn't fit the impression you had gotten of him in all the time you've spent together. Loki was the most attentive, caring, loveable and sweetest man you've ever met. There must be more to it, something like a change of mind on his part.

You wished you could talk to him just one more time to ask him all the questions you had. But you had destroyed this path and the possibility of him finding you was low. Besides, you were sure he'd stopped looking for you. You were sure with him paying you for fourteen days and nights, which was a hella lot of money, and your refusal to take it, he was done with you once and for all. Understandable because in the end you'd just offered him a service and your body and your kisses might never have meant anything to him.

The next morning a knock at your door ripped you out of your work. You were already sitting in front of your laptop again writing your thesis, a mug of freshly brewed coffee next to you and several textbooks and already printed pages of your thesis lying spread on the table. And not to speak about the clothes which were spread around your apartment, on the floor and the sofa or the dirty dishes in the kitchen sink and the several empty packages from the Indian and Chinese takeaway or the pizza and pasta boxes. Your nutrition was a catastrophe these days but you hadn't any time for doing groceries and cooking some fresh and healthy food. Living in the chaos, too much coffee and junk food wasn't the best thing but the easiest until your exams were done and tidy-up you could do later.

“Coming!” You answered the knocking and stood up from the chair. You didn't expect a visitor at this time but you guessed it could be one of your neighbors.

“Hi, y/n I'm so sorry for disturbing you,” your lovely neighbour Karen greeted you after you had opened the door. She was still in her pyjamas like you. It was still early in the morning.

“Hey, Karen, no issues, you're not disturbing me. What can I do for you?” You asked her.

“I don't wanna be annoying, dear but could you lend me some flour and sugar? I want to make some blinis before I leave for work and I don't have enough flour and forgot to buy sugar…”

“No problem, of course I can lend you flour and sugar…wait, I'm back in a minute,” you laughed and vanished into your kitchen. You came back with a bag of sugar and a bag of flour and passed both to Karen.

“You can keep it and bring me some new flour and sugar in the next few days, there's no hurry,” you said and smiled brightly at her.

“Oh dearest you're a lifesaver,” she answered thankfully. “I'll bring you some blinis tomorrow when I'm back from my night shift,” and she waved you goodbye.

“It's alright, dear, thank you,” and you waved her goodbye, too. You closed the door and went back to your laptop, sat down again and continued writing. You had just finished a couple of sentences and drunk your coffee when it knocked at your door again. You looked up from the screen towards the door and a smile curved your lips.

“Coming,” you called towards the door and opened it with a bright smile on your face. “Have you forgotten something,” you asked while opening the door because you assumed it would be Karen again but when you had opened the door completely your smile died immediately and your face froze. After a second of realization, you slammed the door shut and leaned with your back against it. That couldn't be. How the hell did he find you?

Walker had told Loki in which apartment he would find you before he got out of the car. Loki didn't know which doorbell he should ring. Walker hadn't told him your real name because he thought it wasn't his job to do so. You had to tell Loki your name yourself. He already brought him here, to your house and it was more than he was allowed to do. It would cost him his job if Rhea found out about this and he considered himself as already sacked. But he wanted to help you both because he thought you two were a wonderful couple and that Loki and you had great chemistry. He also had the impression that Loki was the right man for you to help get you out of danger and out of the escort business. He still was convinced you didn't belong there and he was also convinced that Loki's obvious feelings for you were genuine.

Before Loki could think about which doorbell to ring first, someone left the building and he could get into the hallway. He used the stairway to get to your apartment and took some deep breaths, adjusted his jacket and raked his hands through his hair before he knocked at your entrance door. He was nervous. Would you open the door and let him in? Possibly not and he wasn't really prepared for your possible rejection. He yearned for you and he just wanted you back.

“Coming,” he heard you happily calling. When you opened the door it seemed you were awaiting someone else who had maybe forgotten something and instead of greeting him, your beautiful smile vanished immediately, your face froze and you slammed the door shut right into his face. Damn, that was rude but relatable. He came unannounced and maybe much too early in the morning so he should've expected this reaction of yours. And no, he wasn't prepared for your rejection. Absolutely not.

“Sugar…please open the door. I just want to talk to you. But not through a closed door. Sugar…let me in, sweets…please,” he begged you, sadness in his soothing voice. How much you had missed his voice, talking calmingly to you. How much you had missed him.

“I've searched for you everywhere and for so long… Sugar, I need you back, please… sweets, open the door. Please!”

Should you open the door? He sounded so sad and desperate.

You turned around and slowly, very slowly you opened the door just a crack and lurked through it at him. He looked so unbelievably beautiful in his dark trousers, the dark-grey t-shirt with a V-neck and his black pea coat. It was the first time that you saw him in casual clothes and you were well aware that you were still in your white loose-fitting sleep shirt and your pink pyjama bottoms with the butterfly pattern, your face undone and your hair untamed and tousled. The real you, at least in the morning. He hadn't seen you like this either. And you looked anything but sexy.

“What are you doing here?” You asked him shyly, some wariness in your gaze.

“I wanted to see you,” Loki answered whispering, utterly delighted that you had opened your door for him. “And I need to talk to you, sweets.”

You slowly opened the door completely and stepped aside so he could walk past you and come in. Loki followed your wordless invitation and entered your apartment. You closed the door and turned around towards him, looking at his broad back and strong shoulders which radiated so much safety, watching him take off his pea coat and hang it up in your wardrobe next to your jackets and bags. You already knew that your jackets would later smell like him and that was a comforting thought. Loki looked lovingly at you and a slight smile appeared on his pretty face, studying your loveable appearance.

“They're very tousled…they always are, except when I'm Sugar,” you said quietly when you saw him staring at you and twirled a strand of your hair around one finger, looking at him embarrassed.

“You always look adorable, sweets and I like your hair when you wear it open. I always wished to see you like this,” Loki said, smiling lovingly at you.

“Take a seat, please…oh, wait…,” you offered him after some moments of awkward silence and you hurriedly took several clothes off the sofa to make room for him to sit down.

“I'm so sorry for the untidiness, I'm in final preparations for my exams and I barely have time to clean up… and I didn't expect any visitors,” you apologetically explained the mess of your apartment.

“Don't worry about it, sweets. I'm not here to judge about the condition of your apartment,” and he took a seat on the couch.

“Fancy a tea or a coffee?” You asked, playing with the hem of your t-shirt. You were curious about how he found out where you live. Someone must've helped him.

“Some coffee would be great,” Loki answered, leaning back against the sofa's backrest and spreading his legs. Him sitting like this and his amazing thighs would always do things to you. Memories of what he had made you do on his thighs flashed back into your mind and made your mouth watery and your cheeks blush. You would never get over him. A shiver ran down your spine and made your core tingle and your nipples tighten. You quickly went over to the kitchen to pour some coffee for him in a mug and you felt his gaze following you.

While you were walking toward your small open kitchen to get him a coffee, Loki let his gaze follow you. You looked adorable in your comfy sleeping clothes. He loved to see your face without any make-up and your hair open and undone. Probably he wouldn't have recognised you in the streets because you looked different like this, and you were more beautiful than he could've ever imagined. Your casual clothing makes you look so comfortable. He could sense your slightly peaked nipples under your t-shirt and he felt waves of arousal running through his body. But he wasn't here to get horny, he was here to talk and get you back.

He let his gaze wander further through your small apartment. It was truly a mess right now. On your desk, a chaos of textbooks and printed pages of your thesis around your laptop and an empty coffee mug next to it, clothes everywhere, empty food packages and pizza boxes. It wasn't to miss that you were focused on your studies only. But he also saw the order in your chaos and he could relate to it. Being the god of mischief also meant that chaos was a great part of his business as well, among other things.

The only tidy thing was the evening gown he had given to you, neatly on a hanger hanging on the open door of your bedroom, right next to your dresser. On your dresser, he saw some photos in a frame. In the pictures were you as a child in the arms of a woman who he assumed was your mum, both laughing and presenting self-made cinnamon rolls to the camera and in another one where you stood with your mum on a beach with the sea and an old castle on a hill in the sea in the background, you both brightly smiling into the camera again. Your childhood must've been a wonderful one. You looked so happy in the pictures.

Next to the photos he discovered the small bouquet of his self-picked wildflowers, well-done dried and nicely decorated on the top of your dresser. A slight smile curved his lips because it touched his heart that you had kept his little gift and that you'd decorated it so lovingly. Next to your dresser, he saw your shoes, relatively neatly placed. The black high heels, the golden high heel sandals, the knee-high leather boots… and a pair of dark-green trainers. He frowned and raised his eyebrows. He was sure he had seen them before somewhere and more than once.

“Here, your coffee. Black and pure, the way you like it, I assume,” you passed him the mug, ripping him out of his thoughts. You sat down next to him and let your gaze wander from the patch of his chest hair up to his pretty face with this chiselled jaw and cheekbones, framed by those incredible black curls, his gaze piercing but heartwarming as always. There was so much longing in it. Nonetheless, you felt stripped by his staring. Maybe it was because he saw the real you for the very first time. You were in your comfy clothes, undone and vulnerable and you couldn't hide behind the pretty mask named Sugar. You felt so fragile and you were at the brink of crying. On the other hand, how dare he come here? You had forbidden him to search you and suddenly you felt angry too.

“How did you find me,” you asked him sternly. Loki sipped his coffee and placed the mug on a free space on the coffee table.

“I looked everywhere for you, sweets and there isn't a place I haven't been to find you and I didn't want to wait until our next appointment to see you again,” Loki answered genuinely and calmly.

“This is not what I meant. Who told you where to find me? Was it Rhea? You don't know my name, you didn't even know how I look when I'm not Sugar, so who told you?” Your anger and anxiety grew, your voice got louder and tears welled up in your eyes. This always happens when you are angry or scared.

“Rhea didn't tell me anything about you or where you live. Walker brought me here. I asked him for help. I knew no other way anymore and he's the only person who knows where you live. I've been to Vivian's Velvet more than once but nobody there knows Sugar… They know just Candy. I don't know what to think about it…”

“There's no relevance to it and should be none of your concerns. And Walker…it'll cost him his job and Rhea… didn't she tell you to stay away from me, that I don't want to see you again? Didn't she send you the money back? I also told you in my letter that I don't want you to be involved in my shit. Why don't you just leave me alone?” you continued ranting.

“Did you really think I wouldn't look for you after that incredible night we spent together and the letter you left behind, telling me that someone is blackmailing you? And please don't be mad at Walker. He's concerned about you too. He wanted to help and I had to convince him that I need to find you, that I have my reasons for it and that my intentions are good. He didn't do it lightly. Rhea didn't tell me anything, she just sent my money back to my bank account with that note ‘acceptance denied’. I don't understand…”

“Oh yes, talking about that… who do you think you are? Did you want to buy me? Seriously? Giving me all your money to ‘save’ me so you can own me and tell me what to do or not to do? Forbid me to escort other men? Because I owe you then?” You got off the sofa and walked some steps away from him. You needed some distance. You turned around to face him and crossed your arms over your chest.

“I might be a whore and you can buy my services but you cannot buy me, loverboy and I'll never take any money from anyone without working for it. It's the last bit of pride I have left and you…,” you pointed with a finger at him, “...won't take this from me. I'm not your property. I won't depend on your mercy, I don't need this ever again,” you yelled at him and some tears ran down your cheeks. You didn't want to yell at him or push him away like that but your anxieties and your saved emotions took the better of you. Also, you feared the consequences it could have when you asked him for help. Consequences not only for you but for him.

“And I'm not mad at Walker, I'm mad at you. Mad at you because you didn't stop looking for me, mad at you because you forced him to bring you here and risk his job, mad at you that you tried to force me to take your money without consideration.” You knew you were overreacting and you shouldn't treat him like that, he didn't deserve to be treated like that. He had always been kind and loving with you but you became more and more overwhelmed by everything that was threatening you for months now.

“Are you done now?” He asked resentfully.

“I didn't want to buy you. I just paid for the time you may have spent with me and escorting me if you would have been bookable. I don't demand anything from you, you owe me nothing, sweets,” he vehemently explained but you shook your head in disbelief.

“Everything in life has its price, ‘Luke’. Life gives you nothing!” You spat.

“Why are you implying I did something bad? I did it because I care about you, because… I don't want you to meet other men, because I can't stand the fact that other men look at you, touch you, desire you,” Loki stated. Why were you so angry and stubborn? And why have you emphasized his name like that?

“And why is that? I'm an escort, it's my job to meet men and you're a client like them. Why can't you stand it?” You wanted to know but maybe you already knew the answer, and he was definitely more to you than just a client.

“Because… because I fell in love with you and I want you all for myself. I know it wasn't supposed to happen…but it happened nonetheless. And I was jealous, so damn jealous of your other clients, all the other men who were horny for you. Now it's out, now you know why!” He just hoped you would finally give in now and let him help you.

“No, you don't love me. You don't know me. You love my fake identity, the carefree, tempting little shit named Sugar, who escorts other men and who escorts you and also fucked with you for a living. That's not love, Luke. That's just lust and passion…” Angry tears ran down your cheeks and you ran your fingers through your hair. You wished you could give in and tell him everything. In the end, you just wanted to be with him.

“Just lust and passion you say? What were your kisses then? Were they just fake too?” Loki's heart sank. This conversation didn't go as he expected and escalated quickly.

“They were just…kisses and without any meaning...probably,” you stammered. It was a lie but you couldn't admit the true feelings you had for him. He still didn't know everything about you and at least he wouldn't stay. So why give in to the feeling of love when he would leave you anyway? “I told you right from the beginning that you mustn't fall in love with me!”

“I never wanted to fall in love with you, yet I did,” he whispered under his breath.

“Why didn't you listen to me?” His answer to that was just a huff and a headshake.

“Ah, and about your kisses, Sugar … so they were kisses without meaning, you say. Didn't you tell me you only ever kiss a man when you're in love with him? So that was a lie then?… Well, interesting because I know whenever you're lying and it didn't feel like a lie when we kissed. But it's okay, I'll accept that you don't want me and that your kisses were fake.” It broke your heart further when you heard him saying that because contrary to what he said you wanted him and your kisses had been genuine but this pain now in your heart was the price you had to pay for all the fucked up shit.

“Nonetheless you can accept my help and my money. Consider it a gift. Nothing can change my ambition to keep you away from other men.” His anger grew and he just wanted to grab you and shake the stubbornness out of you so you would finally let him be there for you. “The worst thing is you're still convinced you can solve your problem alone. Girl, someone is blackmailing you and this piece of shit who does this to you with whatever it is wants a lot of money you don't have and will never get on an honestly or legally way. How many men do you want to fuck to earn all that money, hm? Ten, fifty, hundred?” He angrily questioned, waiting for your answer.

“I'd sleep with every filthy rich guy in Manhattan if necessary, my only issue is that I don't have enough time anymore for that,” you said desperately and sternly, more tears slowly running down your cheeks. The truth was you only wanted him to grab you, fuck you properly and wished immediately afterwards everything would be alright again.

“Are you kidding me? You're never going to do that. You aren't a whore, you've never been. And even if you were, according to your letter you're just my whore, aren't you? So who are you kidding?” He asked you too loudly and he was really sorry for that.

“Do I have to fuck some mind into you first so you finally take my money and let me help you?” In one quick move he stood up from the sofa and with two big strides he stood in front of you. “Come here, then work for it, you sweet stubborn whore! Be a good girl for me!” He growled angrily and darkly, grabbed you by your upper arms and walked you backwards towards your kitchen. His sudden action took you off guard but actually it was exactly what you wanted him to do. All of the pent-up frustration, anxieties and longing for each other needed to be released. Words couldn't do it for you two right now so you two had to act.

“You know what? I've had enough of your stubbornness!”

He quickly turned you around and bent you over the kitchen counter tugging your pyjama bottoms hastily down and your linen panty quickly aside. He then pushed two of his fingers purposefully into your cunt, pumping them in and out a few times before he rubbed them, slick with your juices, back and forth through your folds and over your clit, making you moan lasciviously. He wanted to make sure that you were ready for him, to hurt you would never be his intention. He wanted nothing else than you listening to him and making you happy again. He would make you listen to him, he would make you believe that he wanted to help you, that he loved you and that he would never leave you alone. But he was so angry and worried and he wanted you to feel it physically because his words didn't reach you. And besides all that he just needed you, now.

“What are you doing?” You asked him, still angry and panting heavily. His dominant behaviour turned you incredibly on.

“I do just what you need right now and the only thing you'll understand because you don't hear what I'm trying to tell you, you stubborn girl,” he growled into your ear and he continued pumping his fingers deeply in and out of you.

“Look at you, my little brat, so wet already, you're so shameless and horny, eager to get fucked, aren't you? Want me to have my way with you? Want me to make you work for me, hm? So you can take my money with a clear conscience? Does this make you so wet or is it just because of me and the knowledge that I'll fuck you properly and relentlessly into oblivion? Tell me, sweet thing, want me to take you?” His arousal got bigger with every second he had you under his tight grip and he just waited for your consent. He wouldn't continue without that.

“Yes, oh god, yes, fuck me, that's what I want. Make me listen… make me believe,” you whimpered with genuine longing, trying to get a grip on the kitchen counter. You wanted him to make you forget about everything even if it were just for a short moment.

“Oh yes, your god will take you, never doubt me, sweet thing.” Loki snarled lustfully and tugged your panties finally down. He unfastened his belt quickly, opened the zipper and freed his manhood. He stroked himself a few times, kicked your legs further apart and shoved his steel-hard, pre-cum dripping cock straight into your wet cunt. He fucked you hard and deeply but carefully to not hurt you. He was so deep yet not deep enough, his swollen balls were slapping against your clit and his cock slid powerfully over your special spot inside of you. It wouldn't take you long to reach your climax and your obscene moans were witness to it.

Loki grabbed you firmly by your hips and penetrated you faster and faster until one of his hands slid quickly up at your flank and over your shoulder. He grabbed the front of your throat and closed his big hand around it. He pulled your upper body backward against his chest, still holding firmly onto your hip and your throat, slamming his needy cock into your silken heat as violently and deeply as possible, almost breaking you in half. Your one hand clasped his nape, your other hand his forearm and you couldn't do anything else than let him fuck you pretty hard. His dominance and his deep demanding thrusts let you spiral deeper into arousal and lust.

“You better arch that back if you want to cum, sweet thing,” he commanded seductively and you just obeyed and confirmed your will to come by arching your back and letting out a long moan.

“You feel so good, make me cum, please make me cum, I need you,” you begged him breathlessly. His hand around your throat and his merciless thrusts brought you quickly to the brink of climaxing. The violence and impetuosity of his love-making surprised you and you already knew you wanted more of it, more of him. You wanted him to play with you, to punish you, punish you for running away, for refusing his help, for being a brat and arguing with him.

You knew he was desperate for you as much as you were desperate for him and you also knew that he would never hurt you. Angry-fucking was your secret kink you never dared talk about to your ex and you were glad that Loki was the one who fulfilled your dream. You would feel so much better afterwards, you just knew it. Once he promised you pleasure and didn't disappoint you, he never did and as soon as you were together with him you felt safe. He released your throat and his hand wandered down to one of your breasts, firmly cupping and kneading it and pinching and playing with your nipple.

“I'll fuck the stubbornness out of you, girl and when you're about to cum you'll say my name … did you hear me?” He commanded.

“Yesss, yes I heard you,” you moaned breathlessly.

He felt your cunt massaging his cock and he knew he wasn't going to last long and your permanent moans and whimpers nearly sent him straight over the edge.

“Oh god, I'm about to cum,” you squeaked and you couldn't hold it back anymore. He felt so good and you felt so heavenly full of him.

He fucked you like an animal and a wolfish grin curved his lips. “Then say my name… say it,” and he tried to get deeper while his thrusts became sloppier.

“I'm coming, Loki… please don't stop…”

“Say my name…” and you felt him heavily panting against the sweaty skin of your neck.

“Loki…,” and with an obscene scream you came hard around his throbbing cock.

He gritted his teeth and threw his head back when he came undone with an animalistic groan. He filled you to the brim and enjoyed the silky grip of your cunt milking him. His knees were buckling and he collapsed against your back, carefully guiding your upper bodies towards the countertop so you could both rest there for a moment and catch your breaths.

“Fuck, that felt so good,” Loki groaned and pressed a kiss to your sweaty neck and heard your quiet sigh.

He slowly pulled out of you and watched his cum dripping out of your well-fucked pussy. He was more than pleased. He cleaned himself with a sheet of paper towel which he grabbed from the kitchen counter and put his cock back in his briefs and trousers.

You were still dizzy and bathed in the aftermath of your orgasm and his domination and you still craved for his touch. You felt his cum running down your legs. You raised your torso from the kitchen counter and reached for a sheet of paper towel to dry your inner thighs. Loki looked satisfied at you and smirked.

“Can we talk like adults now?” He asked you teasingly, his cheeks rosy and the blue shimmer under his skin was gone. You both felt much better now and that's what you radiated. Sometimes a good fuck was all you needed.

“Yes,...yes, we can. I just want to clean myself quickly, please excuse me for a moment,” you said quietly, turning around to face him. He looked exhausted but satisfied and you were sure you didn't look any different.

“No,” he answered softly and shook his head.

“No?”

“No, my cum stays inside of you,” he smirked and he helped you into your panties and your pyjama bottoms and pulled both up and over your butt.

“I want you to feel how seriously I want to help you and how much you mean to me.”

He pulled you gently against his chest and wrapped his arms around you, cradling you carefully. You reciprocated his embrace and buried your face in his chest. You breathed in his familiar scent you had missed so much. Not only the scent of his skin or his cologne, or the musky after-sex scent. It was the scent of love, comfort and safety.

He dipped his head to kiss you and latched his lips onto yours and when you opened your lips, his tongue slid into your mouth exploring your warmth and your softness. Your heart felt like it had to explode and you reciprocated his loving kiss with utter passion.

To have you back in his arms, feeling your softness, inhaling your sweet scent and kissing you passionately again was the greatest feeling of all and the only thing he ever wanted. This ugly feeling of anger and tension was gone and you were closer to each other again. There was a lot you had to talk about and it seemed that the time had come now.

“My kisses were and are genuine, please believe me,” you whispered after that amazing kiss and buried your face in the crook of his neck.

“I know and I do believe you. Are you okay, sweets? I hope I didn't hurt you,” he asked you softly and concernedly.

“No, you didn't. I feel good. Maybe it's what I needed and was necessary to get my conscious mind back,” you answered soothingly.

“I didn't want to go too rough on you, I'm so sorry, sweet thing …,” he murmured.

“It felt good and I liked it. I know I call myself sugar but I'm not made of it,” you told him softly and you raised your head to look smilingly at him. You kissed him on his soft lips and raked one hand through his soft curls.

“I'm sorry that I yelled at you, it wasn't fair,” you said apologetically. “I didn't intend to rail you up.”

“It's alright, sweets I get that, I was angry, too,” and he gave you an extraordinarily soft and long kiss on your lips. But there was something he was wondering about so he let go of your mouth and looked quizzically at you.

“I told you to say my name when you were about to cum and you did but… did I… did I hear you right or did I just imagine it in my incredible excitement?”

Instead of an answer you freed yourself from his embrace and went past him to your dresser. You opened the drawer and took his scarf out of it, gently touching it. You weren't ready to give it back to him but it was his and you had no right to keep it. You turned around to face him and closed the distance between you two. When you stood closely opposite of him, you took your gaze from his scarf and looked him into his puppy eyes. You could barely stand the way he was looking at you.

“I'm so sorry that I lied and told you I hadn't found it. I should've given it back to you much earlier but I couldn't. I loved the feeling of having a piece of you in my home,” you said quietly, your voice trembling.

“I knew you had it, I told you that I know. I knew that you lied,” and you both smiled at each other, unsure what to do now. You showed him the embroidered initials, your smile slowly fading. You were afraid to tell him that you knew who he was, how you found it out and that he could be very mad at you because you had browsed through his past.

“These initials don't stand for ‘Luke Larsson’, they stand for Loki Laufeyson and no, you didn't imagine it, in my ecstasy I screamed your real name,” you explained, your voice merely audible.

Loki swallowed thickly. You had found out who he was and he was sure that now the time had come to say goodbye to you because you would never want someone like him by your side. He lowered his head and took a deep breath before going on.

“How did you find out?”

“I did some research in a library. I told my best friend about you and she was sure she had seen you somewhere many years ago but couldn't remember any details concerning the Avengers. Just that you had something to do with them.”

“You talked with your friend about me?”

“Yes, because you became more to me than a client and I needed someone to talk about it. She's the only person who knows mostly everything about me and what I'm doing for a living. And so I told her about us. And through old newspaper articles, I found out that you are Loki and not Luke.”

“Yes, you're right. I'm Loki Laufeyson. An invader, a war criminal, a sinner and definitely not worthy of you. Want me to go?” He asked quietly and sadly, and raised his head again, looking at you with teary eyes. It broke your heart to see him like that.

“No, I want you to stay. And I ask you to help me. Not with money or anything like that. I need your words, your support and your soothing hugs and touches and yeah, I need your kisses, too,” you stated genuinely. “I can't anymore, Loki, I'm so tired,” and you felt him pulling you into his arms again. You hugged him back, desperately clutching his t-shirt, your face buried in his chest, his scarf still in your hand. He cupped your face in his hands and kissed you on your forehead before he loosened his grip on you again.

“You know I'll never give up on you. Otherwise I won't be here,” he murmured with his deep velvety voice.

“I think, the time of revelation and truth has come,” you noticed and looked deep into his bright blue eyes.

“I think so too,” he answered, nodding approvingly.

You took him by his hand and led him back to the sofa to sit down again.

“Wait, let me clean you first and get you some fresh underwear. I want you to feel comfortable when we talk because I'm sure it's going to be a long conversation. And I know how much you like to be cleaned after having sex with me. And I think I stayed long enough in that pretty pussy,” he smiled and kissed you tenderly. You could just smile too and you adored him for his care. His kind of aftercare always surprised you anew and you truly enjoyed it. To make it more comfortable for both of you, you decided to take a shower together and you cleaned each other silently and with utter tenderness.

Refreshed, with still damp hair and Loki just dressed in his trousers and you in just a t-shirt and panties, you sat down on the sofa and looked intensely at each other. Now it was the time to tell each other's truths and you offered Loki your hand for a handshake.

“Hey, I'm y/n y/l/n. Nice to meet you,” and you gave him the loveliest and most genuine smile you could give.

“Hey, y/n. What a beautiful name you have. I'm Loki Laufeyson and it's a pleasure to meet you.” He took your hand in his and placed a kiss on your knuckles. He loved your real name and it suited you so well. You answered with a cute smile and reddened cheeks. This man would never fail to make your skin tingle and your heartbeat quicken.

“Tell me your story, Loki. Tell me who you are,” you asked him, holding his hand in yours and waiting for him to begin.

He told you everything, about his heritage, about his raising in Asgard and how it all led to the invasion of New York City until the point where only two options were left to decide the fate of Earth and his life.

“I had a fight with my brother on the outside of Stark Tower and he asked me to stop and to fight with him and the Avengers together. And I did. I don't know why I listened to him, but I did and I made this decision within seconds. And instead of stabbing him and continuing the destruction and trying to get power over your world, I helped them to fight against the invasion and at least against Thanos. It cost me all of my mental and physical strength and skills but somehow I made it. It didn't prevent me from ending up in the dungeons of Asgard but it avoided lots of more death and destruction. And then I got a further chance of redemption. I got the chance to get out of the dungeons of Asgard to become a negotiator and an ambassador for international and intergalactical security because they all thought my silver tongue would be good for something.”

“Oh, your tongue is very good at French kissing,” you teased him and you both laughed lightly.

“Yeah, you might be right, sweets and not only French kissing but this is reserved for later and for you only,” he said softly, winked at you and squeezed your hand.

“The only condition was to live and work under the eyes of my brother and the Avengers with Tony Stark as my ‘parole officer’,” Loki continued. “I agreed and lived here under the radar and with a fake name for many many years and people forgot about me or left New York and new people settled down here. And after some years when other duties were waiting for my colleagues, they left NYC except for Tony and my brother. He had a love interest here, you know. I have to stay here until my debts are paid and that will be in three years. Then I'll be free to go wherever I want.

My brother or Tony just comes sporadically to see me and it's more like a visit then. I earned their trust so I was allowed to live in my own penthouse and in solitude, just as I wanted it…until I met you. Now I don't want to be alone anymore. I wished I could have you around me all the time.”

“Wow, that's quite a lot… it'll take me some time to process everything you just told me,” you said and sighed smilingly and deeply. “You made yourself the most hated man in your and my world but you took the chance of redemption. Be proud of yourself, Loki, this is a great achievement,” you praised him.

“Maybe it is,” he confirmed.

“You're wonderful, Loki. I got to know you a little bit and I can tell you, you're a good man and you deserve all the love someone can give to you. Can I ask you something?”

“Of course, sweets.”

“You said the Avengers all left the city but I had dates with three of them. Did you send them to meet me because you knew they're nice so I don't have to meet strangers?” You questioned curiously. Loki shifted on his seat and swallowed dryly.

“You… you never met them, sweets.”

“Of course, I did,” you answered unbelievingly and chuckled.

“No, sweets you didn't… it was me you met.” Loki's gaze settled on your face. How would you react now?

“I think I don't quite understand. What do you mean by that?”

“One of my magical abilities is shape-shifting. I can change into the appearance of another person,” he explained carefully. You could just frown because you didn't understand anything of what he said.

“Please explain… Why were you doing this? Did you want to control me or test me?” If that was his intention it would be creepy.

“I did it because I wanted to see you and be together with you. It also was a possibility to protect you from other men.”

“Why didn't you meet me as yourself?”

“Honestly, I don't know. Maybe because I didn't have many events to attend and didn't require an escort, maybe because I didn't want to make it obvious how much I like you… the first time we met I told you I'm not interested in a relationship with you or anything else. I didn't know how to get out of that. I think I was afraid of losing face or scaring you off. You might have thought that I was stalking you,” he explained genuinely and you nodded understandingly.

“Were you also responsible for my cancelled appointments?” You weren't dumb, it fit into the whole thing and so it was an obvious question.

“Yes, guilty,” he admitted.

“How?” you wanted to know.

“I gave Rhea calls with a different voice and told her, the client which I imitated, wanted to meet an escort with a specific hair colour that was completely different to yours so she sent someone else instead of you...”

“ …and gave me a call that my appointment got cancelled,” you added.

“Yes, and two times it was too late and you had already sat at the bar at Vivian's. I intercepted your clients and told them you couldn't come for whatever reason, paid them and sent them away. I always made sure that you would get your money and I knew if a cancelled appointment isn't your fault, you still get your money. I'm sorry for that, sweets. Maybe it was selfish what I did but I just wanted to protect you and have you all for myself,”

Loki felt guilty and he knew he shouldn't have done this. It was stalker-y but he couldn't help himself, he was head over heels for you from the first time he met you at Vivian's Velvet. There were still some questions you needed answers to so you kept consulting him.

“When I met Steve and danced with him, I danced with you? Because it felt familiar somehow. It reminded me of our first dance at the business dinner.”

“You did.”

“When I had that fantastic conversation with Bruce and was invited to that extraordinary delicious dessert, it was you I talked to and it was you who spoiled me so wonderfully?“

“Yes. I know about your weakness for desserts so I couldn't resist ordering you one of the best desserts in Manhattan.” The gaze of his puppy eyes was killing you. He was adorable and you just wanted to straddle his lap and kiss the heck out of him again. But it had to wait.

“When I laughed with Scott the whole evening when I had so much fun and wondered over the magic tricks he showed me, it was you I laughed with. And Scott aka you asked me for a kiss… why? Was it a test because you knew I'd just kiss a man when I'm in love with him?”

“It wasn't a test…or maybe it was. I wanted so desperately to be kissed by you and at the same time, I was afraid you could fall in love with someone else. I just gave it a try. And then I had the confirmation that you definitely had not fallen in love with ‘Scott’ because you denied the kiss.” Loki's heart sank and pondered achingly in his chest. You would never forgive him for all his tricks and lies. He never wanted to lie to you or play games with you but for you and for love he'd do anything.

“So when we met the real Scott at the nightclub, he didn't pretend to not know me, he really didn't know me,” you concluded.

“Yes, that's right,” Loki answered, nodding approvingly. “I was just glad he stayed with the use of my fake name.”

“I think I should be extremely mad about you and all that… but I'm not. Somehow I feel flattered. Nobody else ever did something like this for me. You really just always wanted to protect me, didn't you?” Loki nodded sadly. He was so afraid that he would finally lose you though he had just found you.

“Are you still desperate for a kiss from me,” you asked him softly and leaned in to kiss him. You were just a few inches away from his tender lips.

“You still want to kiss me? You still want me after all of that? I'm a liar and a sinner, sweets. And I'm not sure if this will ever change,” he asked, unsure what you were going to answer now.

“It doesn't bother me what you did in the past and I'd never judge you. I always wanted a dark prince on his black war horse and it seems that wish might come true. You always tried to be there for me and you treated me with such care, attention, and tenderness and that's more than I deserve. If you're a sinner, I'm a sinner too. You know that I'm not a decent girl, and when you learn about my past you might not want me anymore,” you whispered, your lips almost brushing his.

“You're an angel, Sugar and you treated me so well, too. You're my purpose, my obsession and I want you, decent or not,” he mumbled and you pressed your lips gently on his, your hands trailing over his bare shoulders and chest, making him tremble. Your touches would never fail to make him shiver or to make him feel good and safe. He pulled you closer, caressing your head and your soft hair and kissed you so deeply that you nearly began to cry. When he broke the kiss, he looked quizzically at you again and ran his thumb over your cheek.

“You really took me off guard when I took you home with me and you wanted me to read to you from the book of Norse Myths and chose the part about me,” he laughed and you tilted your head to smile at him as well.

“Who could've known that I had been so close to the truth,” and you gave him a peck on the cheek.

“May I ask you something too?”

“Sure!” you said encouragingly.

“When you met Steve, Scott, Bruce aka me, Matt and the real Scott you told them your name is ‘Candy’. Even your coworkers didn't know who ‘Sugar’ is when I asked at Vivian's Velvet for you. What does it mean, sweets?” You took a deep breath and smiled slightly at him.

“When I met you for the first time at Vivian's, when we negotiated the conditions of our deal, I felt that you were special, different. And I liked you very much. Sympathy at first sight so to say. And after our conversation I decided to choose a name only for you, and only you call me like this.” Loki's eyes teared up. “You're incredible, sweets,” and he pulled you in for a further soft kiss.

“You're the only one I ever slept with, Loki. No other client ever touched me intimately. If I would've done it, it would've felt like I'd cheat on you,” you stated sincerely and tears were shimmering in your eyes. “Since I know you I only have eyes for you,” you murmured.

“I know. I feel the same way.” Loki answered with his soothing bassy tone, holding your hands in his and his thumbs grazed tenderly over the back of your hands. His eyes were looking directly into yours and you were locked in his gorgeous blue gaze.

“Tell me your story, y/n. Tell me who has hurt you so much, who's threatening and blackmailing you. Tell me the reason why you were forced to become an escort lady and have to earn that much money,” Loki asked you. You felt his sincere desire to get to know your truth.

You looked at him, swallowed, took a deep breath and then you began to tell him how it all started nearly six months ago.

🌹🥂🌃🌹🥃🌃🌹🥂❤️‍🩹🌃🌹🥃🌃🌹🥂🌃

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