#and the forth one isnt even a Real Movie

[jealousmartini]

for the s/o ask game: 🪽❤️‍🩹💭

i love hearing about people's love lives sm and your blog is so real

UghGGughh oh my gosh thanK YEWWW FOR THE ASK HUNNY

ᨳ⊹ ˖ ࣪ANSWERING QUESTIONS FROM THE THE DR S/O ASK GAME! ⋆.🎀˚

   ── .✦  ┆  𖤐  ┆  ␥ 

🪽 — what is your s/o from? (made-up, media, book, movie etc…) and why did you feel drawn to them?

Now I can already sense the tension in the air for this question, and I'm gonna need yall to lay down the tomatoes so I can EXPLAIN myself alr..?... Katsuki Bakugo. NOW HEY HEY I SAID PUT THEM DOWN🫵🏾 LET ME EXPLAINNN☹️

To put it simply, his character has always intrigued me, confused me and entertained me. So much so that I found myself unironically wanting to understand him even after going back and forth with myself trying to figure out if i liked him or not, and countless times ive failed lmao. But! For some reason i still felt a need to get him, so no matter how many times i misunderstood him I kept trying

And so with the help of my curiosity for his character and my consistancy with the anime, other mha/bakugo enthusiasts opinions and headcanons, edits and fanfictions, I finally got it was because he is just so raw-ly and really him and how he naturally navigates in relationships, especially the ones he prioritises. Even with how canonly brash, grumpy, bullyish, and mean he is, and with how so many people are really hypocritical talking about "oh his character development isnt really development unless he changes his attitude towards people" and "he needs to change his personality in order for us to believe it is real improvement", as if the concept of nuance doesn't exist, he doesnt adjust to their opinions. (Not unless it is absolutely necessary which he DOES realise is the case in major parts of the anime which i LOVE him for being so self aware)

It is the way he never let anyone change him. Which IS bullyish, loud and cocky. He IS mean, kinda crazy and blunt. And deep down I fucking LOVED THAT. Because even with such an insane personality he doesn't let that take over, and his self awareness is strong enough to check himself when he knows hes in the wrong. And it's not like he's biased with the way he treats people because he treats everyone equally like for example: with the way he nicknames everyone by their appearance, quirk or personality in a way that IS kinda mean but if you get him, is actually kinda funny too. And he still doesnt let his ego get the better of him when he recognises someone as respectable and admits that is so. And even though it's not in a socially acceptable nice and sweet way which was what everyone wanted him to be, it was still equal. It was still somehow fair.

And ontop of that, it's not like he picks on people he doesn't even know (anymore). There is that obvious well needed change of charcter he had (which is part of his character development) and if you actually pay attention youll notice his maturity developed too. So when I tried to tell myself that I didnt like him in the beginning, I would still find myself respecting and admiring him because of how true he was to himself, yet still pushed himself to become better because he was still so self aware.

I then realised he was quickly growing on me. Because through his character development I learnt that "being better" doesn't always mean being what is socially acceptable, or "nice" which is always what is expected. And I then noticed how I never really wanted him to change his personality. Because I accepted that this was HIM and had the right to be him, without others trying to change him. And i unironically fuck with the way he is naturally. He who is not like everyone else in the sense that is he isnt "nice and friendly"; still has the right to move around and exist as he, is (which is mean cocky and brash) and does so accordingly and confidently, will ultimately earn my utmost respect expeditiously. And when it finally clicked me, I guess I kinda fell in love a little🫠🫠(im down horrendous).

❤️‍🩹 — what does your s/o smell like?

Smokey caramel and fucking vanilla😭😩😩 because of katsuki's nitroglycerin sweat, he always smells like caramel but it starts to smell burnt, smokey or like someone is cooking caramel anytime he uses it, depending on how bad the explosions are. It is so fucking funny to me how someone so brash, mean and cocky naturally smells like a bakery😭😭. At least he doesn't smell like cooked flesh though so 🤷

💭 — who was the first person you told after getting with your s/o?

MY GIRLS URARAKA, MOMO, MINA AND JIROU! (and somehow kirishima, denki, sero and deku found out...) first it was Uraraka I told cus she and I are like this though🤞🏾🤞🏾 It's been a thing that basically the whole class knows I have a crush on bakugo even though I have a naturally flirty and freaky personality with most of my friends JOKINGLY, but if you squint, it's apparently really obvious. And those bitches have been squinting real hard😒😒😒

[rabbits-bad-habit]

Charlie Walker Headcanons - SFW & NSFW

TW: Stalking, exhibitionism, filming, pain play, knife play, mentions of murder lol

A/N: I love him 4 evr n evr I dont know why it took me so long to get to him

SFW-

Not exactly socially anxious, not particularly versed in social interaction either. He isnt an introvert, nor is he afraid of speaking in public, he just doesn't have the experience to stop himself from being awkward. He can talk your ear off if you let him, actually. Not just about horror films, though he absolutely can gab about a good slasher, but pretty much whatever comes to mind. He doesn't need to warm up to someone before he does this either, in fact he sometimes finds it harder to speak to those he's close with so casually. There's stakes then, something that doesn't come along with speaking to strangers. He also loves a good debate, and loves feeling challenged by someone like that; it's hot in a way. He can admit there is something that raises tension about going back and forth about something, as long as it's kept friendly. 

He gets truly lovesick when he likes someone romantically. Any time he finds himself into someone, he gets obsessive. Every photo you’ve posted, every photo of you that your friends have posted, are all saved in a neat little folder on his phone. He keeps track of all the things he knows about you in a notebook, hidden behind one of his bookshelves so there's no possibility of anyone stumbling on it. It’s not as freaky as it sounds (not as freaky) he just enjoys collecting information about the things he loves, and that doesn't change when that thing is you. The only person who knows about this habit of his is Robbie, who is always calling him a stalker and a creep for it. He still, however, never fails to tell him when he learns something new about you when he isn't around.

Very into music, not as much as he is film, but he’s got a thing for whatever bands he finds. He unsurprisingly gets a lot of them from movie soundtracks, he has a big stack of movie soundtrack CDs sitting by his computer at home. A lot of pop punk, emo, and a bit of nu-metal thrown in. He likes his music how he likes his films, violent and at least a little misogynistic. Just weird enough, but nothing too crazy. Not the type to show anyone though. He isn't making playlists for you or introducing you to artists he likes, he kind of doesn't talk about it unless you bring it up to him first. He typically lets you choose if you're putting something on in the car or hanging out, takes the pressure off to find something you both can agree on. He also absolutely daydreams about you while listening to music, setting some specific scene in his head and letting it play out like a movie. He gets real serious about his daydreaming time, he will stare at the ceiling for multiple hours if he has to.

Charlie is strangely avoidant for how obsessed he gets. He likes being around you but he doesn’t want to overwhelm you or unintentionally freak you out. So he ends up keeping somewhat of a distance unless you’re the clingy type. Not even in a parallel play sort of way, no, he is of course a lot more weird about it. He will follow you without you knowing, and watch you from the same room without you even having a clue he was in the same place. If and when you notice, he always plays it off like he had just run into you and was sneaking up behind you to scare you or something of that matter.

Speaking of freaking you out, hes a fucking menace sometimes. An ass, if you will. The only reason the “I was trying to scare you” excuse works when he’s following you around is because he does scare you on the regular. Follow behind for a while to make you feel watched and a little too aware of your surroundings, then find an out of the way hiding place, and jumps out at you with the most annoying grin on his face. He does it to everyone. But especially you, because there’s something cute to him about seeing you startled. The quick yipe and clutch over the heart, jumping back away from him with wide eyes until you realize it’s him and sway at his chest for it. He wouldn’t do it if it really upset you, but you’re always laughing with him so he’s never found any reason not to.

If you’re not a fan of horror, that gets a little complicated. Film, particularly horror and thriller, is kind of his entire world. As long as you can tolerate him talking about it, at the least, you’re all good. If you’re afraid of them but watch them for him, he thinks that’s absolutely positively precious. The fact that you’d do that for him even though it’s not your idea or a good time makes him feel appreciated, but also it’s just cute when you’re all scared. He’ll let you hide your face in his chest during the gory parts, and is always reminding you that it’s just fiction. Unless it’s like Stab and based on a true event, where he’ll just keep his mouth shut in times he’d usually be fact checking the damn thing. He’ll tell you exactly how all the effects were done in all of them if it’ll make you feel better about it. Okay, he will likely do that anyway, but he makes an active effort to if he knows it makes you feel better.

He thinks he’s a damn comedian. Even in serious situations, he is cracking jokes. If he finds an opportunity for a good joke, he will take it, no matter the tone of the room. At best it lightens the mood, at worst it makes people genuinely mad. Robbie does not help this, in fact he makes it worse, because if Charlie starts a joke he will add to it. They’re never not funny, though, maybe just ill-timed. You can easily find yourself in a laughing fit, telling them to shut the fuck up because your stomach hurts from laughing but they just keep bouncing off of each other and adding to whatever the hell they started. If it is just the two of you, Charlie loves poking at you lightheartedly. He still takes every opportunity, the jokes just lean more teasing, if not loving.

He doesn't use the social side of the internet, like at all. He thinks it's a bit dumb, outside of forums and uploading sites like Youtube. He frequents horror and true crime forums, fighting with people about movie rankings and taking ideas for his own activities. He can tell you everything you would ever need to know about whatever shitty, inaccurate, /Nosleep story hit the front page that week, but if you asked him about any of the current global trends he would have no idea. He understands entirely why people use them and why people like it, he knows how to work the rise of these platforms to his advantage very well, it just doesn't appeal to him personally. Occasionally he will check in on traditional socials just to see what his friends are up to, and he is always watching whatever accounts you may have, but he does this so infrequently that his accounts still have the profile pictures from when he made them in Freshman year. He does keep up with Robbie’s blog, too, of course. Of course.

He draws! A lot, actually, but he wouldn't ever show anyone. He thinks they're all kinda bad and he pours himself into his sketchbooks, which is something he feels no one should have to look at. Sometimes it's disturbing, in gore content and body horror, specifically. Movie fanart of course, but also a lot of art that matches bits of film scripts he has written for fun and sketches of his friends. Unsurprisingly he sketches you a lot. Any pretty little moment he can think of or remember gets put to page, he has spreads upon spreads of you. He knows it's a lot, he knows it only makes him more of a creep, doesn't mean he's going to stop though. Just that he's going to hide his sketchbooks a little harder once you start hanging out at his house.

Jealous mf, but not in the toxic controlling way. Rather, he just silently resents anyone who gets too close to you, doubly so to those who decide to flirt with you knowing you're already his. If he sees eyes on you, he gets so touchy. He has to make sure everyone in the vicinity knows who you're there with. Arm around your waist or shoulder, hand in your back pocket, he may not fully have you sit in his lap but he’ll get damn close to it. His rampant jealousy comes out in what feels more like protection. He just can't stand the thought of anyone even thinking about you the way he gets to have you, let alone somehow coming in and taking you from him. No, you're his, and he is devotedly yours.

NSFW-

On the day-to-day. he can be a bit hesitant to initiate much, really anything for that matter. Most get the idea that he likes being bossed around, but not quite. Not always, at least. The bedroom is where he feels most confident letting himself take that control, outside of I suppose in the act of murder. It’s not going to be a problem if you’re begging for him to take the power. Starting is the hardest part, but once he gets going he is near-entirely dominant. There are certainly exceptions, I'd say he's a heavy dom-leaning switch. For the most part he likes to lead, though. It’s what is easiest for him, and what he tends to enjoy more.

The main way to get him to sub for you is just being so lovey dovey that he just has to obey you. Telling him all about how pretty he is, how sweet you think he is, how much you adore him. He will sort of do anything for praise, he basically committed murder for a little appreciation, of course he'd willingly put himself under you if it meant you would call him a good boy. He is so whiny, though. A complainer and a half, so desperate and impatient when he doesn't have the control. Not exactly a brat, but damn close. Just remind him that you'll take good care of him, and he’ll melt right back into you. A little reassurance goes a long way with this one.

Absolute fucking creep, and absolutely unashamed of it. As mentioned, he keeps any photos of you he can get his hands on and he takes a lot of his own, too. If he’s on purpose by chance passing by your house, he won't hesitate to peek into your window. If you're changing, or god forbid masturbating, he will angle his shitty early-era smartphone so he can get a good shot of it. Okay maybe more than one, he’s got dozens. They are just for him and no one else, not even Robbie is taking a look at those things. It's nearly the only thing that can get him off, photos of you. He will also sit outside your window for so long just watching. Enjoying you being you in what you think is the safety and comfort of your own home.

Along similar lines, he will steal your clothes if you leave him an opening to. At a party or gathering and put your hoodie down, suddenly it has disappeared. Extra pair of clothes in your car, the shirt has gone missing after you gave him a ride. If you invite him to your house, he will take the opportunity to sneak into your room and dig until he finds your undergarments. He’s so gross about it, too, he’ll hold your clothes up to his face while he jerks off. Breathing in as much of your scent as he can get, fueling his fantasies further. He’ll return them. Eventually.

Has such a thing for teasing you during movie nights. Sometimes more than teasing. A lot of times more. Putting on some film he’s already seen a hundred times so he doesn’t have to pay attention to it, cuddling up so close to make sure you don’t fall off the couch. As time goes on he lets his hands wander, groping and touching, until eventually his fingers end up in places they shouldn’t be. He won’t hesitate to do this when you’re with friends, either. In fact, the idea of making you cum over his fingers while his best friends are just a few feet away, entirely clueless, is one of his favorites. He would do it, too. No hesitation.

Likes pain, even when totally dominant. Of course the usual nails across his back, and teeth sinking into his shoulder, but it's much more than that. He will take it however he can get it, and would outright order you to hurt him. Especially if you're a bit unsure about it, he would lose his mind seeing you learn in real time that you might have some sadist in you. He gets so hot about bruises and blood on his own skin. He’ll praise you for every cut you give him, every time you hit him. “Look at you drawing blood, so fucking sexy.” and “I know, doll, it’s a lot but you’re doing so good.” voice all breathy and low. Sure, he’s open to appealing to any masochism you might partake in, of course. He won't go as far as he will on himself, though, he likes the threat of harm more than he does the actual dealing of pain. 

Biggest fan of simple grinding. Dryhumping. He can spend so much time just making out and touching over clothes. Something about it feels perverse to him, in a way that makes him go absolutely insane. He is a total sucker for good outercourse. Contact over layers of fabric. Passing short and sweet noises between each other's lips. Hands wandering, touching every accessible part of your body, but also somehow not really touching anything. It's easy to get him to cum from dry humping alone, and he feels like a god if he can get you there, too. Watching you come undone in his lap without even removing any clothing? He could die.

God is he big into manhandling and god is he good at it. He is way stronger than you think he is. He appears so scrawny, but really you just don't notice the muscle he has. He will throw you around if that is what you are looking for. We all saw him pick Olivia up and slam her into the bed by her throat, right? If that's what you want, he will gladly follow through. He thoroughly enjoys the little yelps and startled gasps when he picks you up or drags you where he wants you. He feels powerful, in total control. He can't get enough of the feeling of knowing he could haul you wherever he wished and you would love every second of it.

He’s got such a thing for filming. Holding his handcams up to your face while he fucks you, capturing every pretty face you make. Setting up a camera on his dresser so he doesn't miss a single thing. Any good horror has some nudity right? The best have graphic, almost explicit, love scenes. He wouldn't dream of leaving something so important out. It is only for the two of you, though. Those recordings never leave his hands, he could never even show anyone else besides you. Much like his photos, that is for him to see only. He is the only one who gets to see your body, see you in bliss like that. Not even on film.

Back to his jealousy, he tends to take those feelings out with sex. Not inherently in a rough, punishing kind of way, though. More often in a reassuring way. He gets so lost in his jealousy sometimes, he just starts feeling bad. Sometimes letting him fuck you into the mattress is the cure. Having slow, intense, touchy sex. A reminder that you wouldn't want anyone else when you have him. A reminder that you’re his and that no one could change that. You’re willing to be as physically close as two people could get, you want to be so close, no can lead you away from him.

[p1zzaparty]

Hello and welcome to my pitch for a Muppet spin-off movie of It Ch 2

idk if anyones ever done this before so just know i took no inspiration from anyone but my own knowledge of muppets and my love for this movie

A LOT of these will be based mostly on looks with only a few exceptions on personality. No i will not be taking any questions or criticisms at this time

Rq note i am not including the cast of Sesame street just because this is my casting and i can make up any rules i want

Starting off very strong

Kermit as Eddie Kaspbrak

NOW before i get booed off stage im very aware this is not accurately cannon in some eyes. Yes, i am aware Kermit usually plays, BUT NOT ALWAYS, a main character in these adaptions. Not that Eddie isnt a main character, i can just see the argument that Bill is more of the focused lead so therefore he should play Bill. But nay i say, nay because back in his Sesame Street days Kermit was wayyyy more snippy and had a real temperament with him. He was sassy, rude, and honestly a real asshole and i felt like that's perfect for Eddie. He's also a bit timid still and i feel like he could play a perfect, annoying little hypochondriac.

Its also because i wanted to make Miss. Piggy play Myra as a small gag

I felt soooo smart and funny for that one

no hate to her tho, miss piggy is a woman of class

Speaking of my incredible massive brain

Fozzie bear as Richie Tozier

Admittedly my connections are very lazy and just, 'Comedian, bear, Kermits best friend, perfect.' What more could you ask for. Though i will say i AM in agreeance with most of you, Richie and Eddie would normally be Bert and Ernie. Its perfect for them and i love it trust me. But again i wanted to branch out of Sesame Street and stick strictly to Muppet characters. Muppet movie characters. Muppets who dont live on sesame street.

He's goofy, he's loud, his jokes are awful, he's "accidentally" received messages from gay guys looking for a bear. His fashion is colorful and bright.

This is about as far as my intelligence led me

Continuing, i actually had a hard time for this one because i kept switching back and forth between two candidates, so take this one with a heavyy grain of salt

Rowlf (?) as Mike Hanlon

Im not entirrrely feeling this one, especially because Mike is a lot more bombastic than Rowlf. Hes excitable and energetic while Rowlf is more laid back. And Mike cannot play the piano to save his fucking life honest to god. So i feel like im doing Mike a disservice here by casting Rowlf, even though Rowlf is one of my favorite muppets. Honestly Gonzo was a heavy contender for him, but Rowlf just felt more aesthetically like Mike. Plus they both enjoy freeform Jazz.

Walter as Ben Hanscom

okay so this is going to get me thrown into the pits but i'm going to be honest with you all

I did not like Ben in the It modern day reboots.

I HAVE a lottt to say about how theyve handled Ben, Bill, Bev, and Mike in these movies, but you aren't here for that you're here for Muppets.

That is to say, since they made my man as bland as possible i decided it was only equally fair to make him Walter. NOT THAT WALTER IS BLAND, he's actually a more complex character than they gave to Ben. 'Ben, are you a man, or are you a muppet?'

It just felt right, he's positive, he's genuine, sweet and kind to the other losers, a bit awkward at times, and he was severely bullied as a child. My little wheat toast princess

Gonzo as Bill Denbrough

So you know how i said i kept going back and forth with Gonzo and Rowlf for Mike

The same applies here. Personally i feel like Gonzo fits a bit more with Bills personality. He's impulsive and a bit all over the place. Almost the entire movie he looks like he's been through the spin cycle with no dryer sheet to keep him from getting static. Plus he just throws himself into dangerous life threatening situations. As for who'd play Georgie? Girl i don't know stop asking me questions

Definitely Robin though, i think he's the only child Muppet i can think of

God hes got those James McAvoy eyes..

Okay this one was extremely difficult to cast

Jill as Beverly Marsh

Do you all know Jill from the muppets? Of course you havent, she literally shows up in ONE scene in The Muppets Take Manhattan. Where she has about 5 lines before is never used again in any other project. Except supposedly in Muppet babies which?? Not going down that rabbit hole

This one was entirely based on looks because as you may all know, there isn't a lot of female muppets besides Miss Piggy. And she cant do ALL the heavy lifting here people. Most notably there is another pig muppet from the 2015 office spin off named Denice who COULD very well be Beverly. But i felt more confident with this choice, especially since it'd be kind of confusing to cast another pig-woman-muppet, who has ALSO been in a relationship with Kermit before. And god forbid i want my Stephen King Muppet movie to make sense people.

She actually looks more accurate to 90s miniseries Bev so take that as you will.

Scooter as Stanley Uris

I feel VERY confident in this choice. As a number 1 fan Scooter i feel like he fits perfectly for the cast as Stan. He's polite, he's dorky, he's usually forgotten, but still valuable to the crew nonetheless. I don't have anything else to really add to, he's just perfect.

Don't know how i feel about seeing a muppet end its own life but you know

Lastly, with almost every Muppet movie there's at least ONE human character

So obviously It'd be Pennywise

Personally id like it to be specifically Tim Currys Pennywise. If not for his amazing acting, his fun and vibrant personality as Pennywise, but also for the fact itd be his second time as a Muppet villain and thats really funny to me. Nonetheless either will do. I find it really funny imagining a very serious cosmic horror clown ripping apart muppet children while they did that puppet flail

That's all i have to relay today thank you

[pzyii]

Would like to hear more about the black Buffy au 👀

okay so like. There’s a lot to say about it , because it’s ultimately a part of my whole buffy rewrite/ redesign/(modern?) au (which is both fixing stuff I’m bothered with and a way to collect a bunch of head canons and just be more free with these characters). Tho I do also just see her as black at this point and draw her as it even if it’s not directly related to this au.

I got caught up in it and it’s all long so it’s all under the cut

it started with me drawing her as black once, I think it was prompted by a TikTok of someone who was giving heavy buffy vibes. But when I did, it really stuck with me. These are for various reason. One of the main ones, honestly? Racism in this show.

Like I get that it was the 90s but that doesn’t excuse it. There are obviously a lot of examples, the lack of characters of colour being a big one. But Buffys racism towards Kendra is another one, as well as the first slayer only communicating through Tara, a white woman in restless. The way they talk about Romani culture and people isnt good either (and something I’ve been working on how you can make the story work still), neither is ampata and def more examples I can’t think of now.

but it isn’t just about that, and it’s not just about representation. But rather the concept of buffy the vampire slayer itself. The idea of a woman who always is the one hunted and killed in horror movies turning around and just killing all the monsters. Yeah this fits a blonde woman but it sure also fits a black woman. (another part of this is people underestimating buffy, both her enemies but also the people around her. They think she’s stupid, that she’s not strong etc. When she very much isn’t. This is yet again something that while fitting the stereotypes of a blonde woman, but also fits, a lot better today too, with a black woman. Or any woman of colour. To point out an obvious of example of this, we for example have Annabeth Chase in Pjo. Who’s intelligence and capability was underestimated in the books because she was blonde, but makes even more sense with her being black)

but onto the fun stuff!!! Idk exactly whattt you wanted anon but I’m giving you some insights into what I’m working on on and off right now. So Buffys not the only one getting redesigned with this, obviously her family, Dawn and Joyce’s appearances are gonna change. But other characters too, this both being connected to what I said about head canons, but also Xander for examples prob gonna change a bit, he’ll still be a brunette, probably the same height and similar build but he won’t look a lot like Nicholas Brendon. This is because well. I want him to look like a kid!!! All of them, while they’re teens I want them to look like it, and hopefully if my art capabilities go that far, that they look visibly older by the end of it.

this au is my baby so I’m gonna share some random notes of like character design changes.

This is one of those very affected by hcs and personal preferences. A lot changes about willows appearance, she’s a bit taller(I want her to look too tall for herself, she’s all awkward, doesn’t look like she fits in her body), she has freckles (she’s ginger), there will be some changes on her body from magic (and other injuries but lots of magicks stuff, it’s reminders, SCARS) aND her hairs naturally curly but she straightens it, at least in early seasons (this is like 100% personal preference, but it’s also like…. I have things that fit and I wanna explore with it….) and so forth.

Anyas pretty similar because I just think Emma fits real well but she’s less.. human. I have a bunch and more to go in vengeance demon lore but I want her to be Different than human, having been a vengeance demon Changes You. Her ears are pointed (great for expressions, also applies to vampires), she has goat eyes (classic demon move, also fits the Almost Human thing.), her teeth are pointy (it’s fun, she’ll naw your arm off if you steal)

As a final example, that’s actually related to the black buffy aspect of the au. Drusilla. She’s also black. This design is pretty recent, and was created by me both because I wanted to explore the concept of different ways to convey her vibe, but also, and mainly, because she’s a buffy parallel. History wise there’s some things to work out with it but it’s def a design I’m stuck with at this point. (She is supposed to parallel buffy in every way, sharp edges against soft curves). Also she’s really fucking tall. (Taller than spike, which is the most important part of it)

also bonus, given about the whole modern? Au Aspect of it

[beekissies]

💐, 🍴, and 👕 for arthur and lucian 🥺

u rly just picked the two currently blasting me in the face huh....... evil........ thank u so much . my brain is sofull

ask game here!

💐: Does your f/o give you flowers or vice-versa?

for lrtr i feel like both of them give each other flowers.... loren probably heard from quincy or eleanor or aoi that it's common for couples in 1999 to give each other flowers so loren is like. okay 🥺 and runs to get Any Kind Of Flower . i feel like they give him flowers from their time since they're novel yk... a lunar pitcher or somethin... arthur is a big ol sap so he probably gets them flowers on dates and stuff but if he didn't i feel like he'd get bullied by the quincy aoi el trio into getting loren flowers anyway. like cmon man. what are u doing. they got u time travel flowers whats ur excuse. and hes like I GET IT!!!!!

lucian is also a huuuuuge sappy romantic so he really likes giving omen flowers!!! i was reading tragodia files earlier and he really likes leaving little trinkets he finds while travelling so i feel like that also transfers over here a bit ^_^ very thoughtful flower choice (colour coordination or flower language or just her favourites, stuff like that) and a little trinket to go with it ^_^ like a pair of earrings that match her eyes... a tape of a movie she said she was interested in... and anything else along those lines!!!

🍴: Which one of you cooks for the other?

arthur!!! loren is used to eating literal nutrient cubes so they're only really good at like. chopping and dicing and mincing things. i think they're also good at preparing meat... butchering and deboning and stuff yk... but thats where it ends . in my head loren is the type to make food really bland or just barely cooked because its more "time efficient" and arthur watches in horror as they bite into raw meat, recoil, and put it back on the pan (based on real life events). so suffice to say loren isnt allowed near the stove

for phanomen, i feel like both of them! they're both travelling Somethings so i always imagined they're at least borderline decent at cooking ^_^ BUT!!!! i feel like omen cooks more often . since lucian has a habit of likeeeee. getting really absorbed in things. or otherwise forgetting to eat. i feel like omem is the type to make him things and go honey darling lover sweetheart... u have to eat... and lucian immediately caves . like okay my love my darling my dove my songbird whatever u say

👕: Who borrows the others hoodies/clothing?

can i say loren by virtue of Literally Possessing Arthur... theyre borrowing his clothes and also his entire body!!!!! but they also just borrow arthur's clothes (it doesnt work the other way around . because they are short . and arthur is not) because they're like a dog and they like that they smell like him yk... if they can't be draped over him like a sloth or rattling around in his head then wearing his shirt is a very good substitute too

omen is really short dude and lucian is like 180? 185? cm. theres no way he can borrow her clothes...... i also like to think lucian is the kind of person to immediately put his coat over her shoulders when it even gets just a Little windy and they're like noooo ur gonna get cold / nooooo i insist i dont want u to catch a chill / nooooo- / noooooo- back and forth and back and forth... i do think omen is the type to like putting little trinkets of hers on lucian tho... he might go into a mission w the ribbon she uses for her hair tied around his wrist... her bracelet on him... stuff like that ^_^

[game-boy-pocket]

Today I beat Mario Tennis Aces

...or rather, I beat the Adventure mode. It looks like more stuff unlocked after the credits, but i'll save that for another time.

I have almost no history with Mario sports games. I don't like sports in real life. And though I am very obsessed with Mario, slapping Mario onto a sport does not make it more appealing to me, generally speaking. I even kind of resented Mario spinoffs like Tennis and Golf and whatnot because in my naive eyes, these were games that could have been Super Mario 64 2, Mario Sunshine 2, and so on and so forth. I know now that the sports games were generally outsourced to Nintendo partners, but it's still not what I wanted out of Mario.

A few years ago when I got my N64 everdrive, I actually tried out Mario Tennis, and thought it was not bad at all, but didn't offer enough for me to want to keep coming back to play it. I also tried Mario Golf and found it way too boring to proceed. I didn't pay for either of them.

But when they announced Mario Tennis Aces and revealed that an Adventure Mode was part of the game, it did make me raise an eyebrow. That's something I feel was missing from most Mario spinoffs. Some kind of sense of a whimsical adventure, which I tend to associate Mario with.

I've been in such a Mario mood lately thanks to all the wonderful games releasing on top of a pretty fun movie, that I just wanted some more Mario, and figured I'd take the plunge on Tennis. It's easily the most appealing of the sports that Mario regularly plays. And that Adventure mode called out to me.

So how did I like it?

It was fun. Frustrating at times. Kamek was such a fucking bastard to keep a rally going against. But fun. The story was silly, felt like something out of Super Mario Bros Super Show tbh. But contextualizing Mario Tennis went a long way to making the game enjoyable for me. I might play this one casually against CPUs from time to time.

And it has me curious to know if i'd enjoy any of the other sports titles. I tried a bit of Strikers on the Gamecube when a friend bought it, but playing against him in competitive games has rarely been fun for me. If there was any other sport available, I wish it was baseball. And wouldn't you know it, that is the only regular sport that ISNT on the Switch. So maybe i'll do golf next, but it's very low priority. Can I be honest? I'd rather play mini-golf than the real golf.

[trendfag]

my pitch for a catfish movie to end the show with:

nev is finally hanging up the catfish fishing game, but not before solving one final case. a girl is being catfished, but for the first time, nev instantly recognized the man in the photos: its him.

amused but someone discomforted by the irony of someone catfishing as him, host of catfish, nev goes all in on the case. he knew it would be his last case but he never could have known just how much it would subsume him. he follows all his steps, and things just arent adding up. everything points to this other nev being real! even the guys facebook and instagram friends: they all have photos of fake-nev, photos with people nev has never met in his life. as he looks back through fake-nev’s profiles, he realizes something. he cant remember taking any of these pictures. he didnt notice it at first, he’s a well-known busy guy, sometimes photos get taken without you realizing, but upon closer review he swears that hes never even been to most of the places that fake-nev is in in these pictures. something is weird here. he needs to talk to fake-nev.

he goes through with it, being careful not to act any different than he would with any other catfish. identifies himself, his show, what the man is being contacted about. a short back-and-forth exchange occurs, just enough to confirm that there is a person active on the account, but then he goes silent. finally, hours later, nev gets a message: “are you fucking with me?” thinking the same thing, and tired and stressed from a long day of making a tv show about someone catfishing as himself, nev responds in kind. more silence from the other end, until 45 minutes later he receives an angry message accusing him of trying to ruin everything good in fake-nev’s life. curiously, though, fake-nev seems to be directing this not at nev, but at someone else, using the name of one of his facebook friends. before nev can follow up, he gets blocked. upon making logging into a new account, he sees that fake-nev is no longer friends with the person he named in the message to nev. they have a string to follow.

conversation with the (former?) friend turns out to be an incredibly fruitful endeavor. not only is she willing to talk, she wants to get on the phone so she can spill everything without having to think about it. over the phone, she tells nev about her friend, and calls him the name on fake-nev’s profile. she essentially tells the story of fake-nev and the woman who called catfish’s relationship, but from the other side. interestingly, though, the friend has thought that the OTHER person was a catfish, and has been telling fake-nev that since nearly the beginning, putting a strain on their relationship since he didnt want to believe her. she was recently blocked by him and isnt sure what broke the camels back: nev tells her about his exchange with fake-nev, and clarifies to her that his television show isnt investigating fake-nev’s partner, but fake-nev himself. this confuses the friend. she goes silent on the phone, only making vague sounds to indicate her continued presence when prompted by nev. after a little bit, she starts speaking again, sounding shaken. “nev,” she says, “why didn’t you say you look just like him?”

nev is dumbfounded. she explains. evidently this girl has never heard of nev or his show. after hearing that catfish was investigating her friend, she realized she didnt google the show or the man she would be speaking to before picking up the phone. taking a moment to do so, she finds out that nev and fake-nev look exactly the same. she presumes that fake-nev probably googled catfish, or nev himself, realized the same thing, and thought his friend was trying to trick him into breaking up with catfish’s client, leading to the confusing response. nev has no idea what to make of this. “so youve seen this man in person? met him? had conversations with him?” “yeah he was like my best friend…we talked about everything together…i mean almost everything, hes got some thing hes got with his family, never liked when the subject got brought up, so i didnt push, but other than that we know everything about each other.” nev needs to talk to fake-nev.

he enlists the help of the client. “he loves you,” he tells her, “he blocked someone who was his closest friend because she didnt think YOU were real, you need to get him to talk about his family.”

“i just dont see what this has to do with me…ok though…for you i guess” (remember that this girl got catfished by someone she thought was nev from catfish) upon talking to fake-nev and getting him to talk about his family, he reveals to her that he was raised by something of an adoptive family, though not one that treated him well. he was fooled by their abuse, believing it was love, until he overheard them one night as a teenager, awake past bedtime, talking about how they STOLE him as a baby. horrified, he sneaks back to his room, waits until they go to bed, and runs away.

years later, having developed an internet sleuthing savviness of his own, fake-nev tried to figure out where he came from. researching his parents, or rather his captors, he manages to trace their movements across the country. hes not sure where to go from there, though; there are many places they lived before the first one he can remember, and he has no way of knowing even when they kidnapped him. his only clue is his age, but he cant even be sure that they gave him the correct age. nev gets the client to ask fake-nev where his captors lived when he was born, if his age is correct. new york, just a few blocks down from the hospital where nev was born.

in a panic, nev walks away from the cameras and calls his parents. he rambles, talking too much about the case and not enough about fake-nev himself until his father finally cuts through and asks him why hes calling. nev asks a question he never thought of asking before: do i have a twin brother? before he can even finish the last word, his parents simultaneously burst into tears, confirmation in itself. regardless, nev waits on the phone as his parents gather themselves. calmer, they explain to nev what happened: hospitals were much more lax when he was born, and the hospital nev’s mother went to had a kidnapping: nev’s twin brother. heartbroken but grateful for at least one of their children, nev’s parents hid from him the fate of his twin, fearing any impact the knowledge may have had on his psyche. they raised him as if the other boy had never existed. “how did you know?” they ask him, “how did you find out?”

“i think i found him”

now its time for the meeting in person. nev contacted fake-nev, or rather nev’s brother, again after the conversation with their parents. he told him what they found out, and sent a weird selfie to prove that hes really nev, he really looks like this. it took some convincing, and a bit of time, but eventually nev’s brother agreed to have a meeting. the client is there, needing to be for the tv show, but for a catfish first nev’s parents are also present, ready to meet their son for the first time. they all wait eagerly for nev’s brother to arrive. five minutes past the agreed upon time, nev receives a text: “running late, sorry. nerves.” thirty minutes after that, nev calls his newfound brother. no answer. another forty minutes pass before nev’s parents, crestfallen, let their son know theyre going to leave. as he’s apologizing for getting them involved, and getting their hopes up, a catfish production member tells him that fake-nev had just arrived. he excitedly tell his parents and they get back into position. the cameras start rolling, nev gives a brief summary of whats happened, and then its time for the moment of truth. everyone turns to look at the designated door in the room. after what feels like an hour, but is barely a minute, the door begins to creak open. walking into the room is…a man who looks exactly like nev.

crying, gasping, hugging as a family is reunited. the parents take up the most time and space, crowding and smothering their long-lost son with the love they never got to give him. after they’re convinced to let the man go so they can continue filming the tv show, the formerly-suspected-catfish looks toward nev, who directs him first to the client. the client, who has seemed uninterested ever since she realized real-nev is married and faithful, is surprised by this outcome and willing to see if fake-nev really is close enough. finally, for what is planned to be the final scene of the show, nev and his brother shake each others hand on camera, introducing themselves to each other. the handshake breaks into a hug as they are overcome with emotion and hide their faces from the camera. upon the hugs end, nev indicates he wants to spend time with his brother to get to know each other; his brother asks if they can start tonight.

later that evening, the filming for the final season of catfish has finished, and nev has gone out to a bar with his brother. they uber back to nev’s brother’s house to crash for the night; nev has a hotel room, but come on man, this way we can keep it up in the morning and we only need one uber, i can drive you to your hotel tomorrow its fine, tomorrow just call ahead if youre gonna be late for something theyll understand youre with your brother! they enter the study, a moderately-sized room with the walls covered in bookshelves and a desk near the back wall. indicating for nev to sit in one of the comfortable-looking scarlet chairs in front of the desk, fake-nev walks around to the table behind the desk, picking up a decanter with a brown liquid and two scotch glasses. as he watches his brother pour more drinks, nev closes his eyes, still in disbelief that he has another brother, a twin brother, from whom he was separated at both, but who he met through his pop culture sensation tv show. he ruminates on his good fortune until he hears something unexpected: a woman’s voice. what’s more, he’s sure he’s heard that voice before, but cannot quite place where.

nev opens his eyes and looks directly in front of him. the light seems dimmer, the desk in front of him somehow duller than before. behind the desk sits the decanter with two glasses of scotch. fake-nev is nowhere to be seen. “you’re actually just stupid arent you,” he heard the woman’s voice again, coming from behind him. he stands up and turns around as gracefully as he can in his drunken stupor. as he does so, he feels a sharp pain in his abdomen. looking down, he sees a hand holding the hilt of a letter opener up to his body. as the hand removes the blade from the wound, nev’s gaze follows the motion up the arm and to the stone-straight face of his long-lost brother. swimming in pain, confusion, and betrayal, he can do nothing but stare and watch as the person in front of him grabs at the bottom of their neck and seems, to nev’s great horror, to pull of their face. the horror shifts, however, as he realized that they didnt pull of their face, but an incredibly life-like rubber mask. “this is for making me look fucking pathetic,” says angela wesselman, the woman who catfished nev in the 2000s and started his entire career by being the subject of the catfish documentary, as she stabs nev again.

after a shot of the outside of the house, we re-enter to see angela in her kitchen. nev’s phone in hand, she clears her throat before dialing a number. “hey,” she says in a perfect recreation of nev’s voice. “i know its late, but i had to get to you. i changed my mind. i want to keep doing the show.”

[xenosagaepisodeone]

a lot of cultural critique I read that can't be tied to a broader, observable neuroses in real life tends to read to me like the writer is a victim of algorithm brain. even for people like me who like to observe and examine niche phenomena online, I know that a lot of these spectacles spring forth from the incubator of a rather boring, terribly stupid, but knowably painful reality. it's kind of funny to see the writer of that article going around grasp in all directions for ways to legitimize their grievances with adult children -- which is evidently less about any widespread shift in adult behaviors, and moreso with the resurgence of plushies and annoying twitter takes. its a curious choice to scrutinize cutesy and kind of babyish tiktok trends without invoking anything about the deeply rooted fear of aging (or how people assume you just vanish if you're a woman over 30) that almost primevally permeates, but is greatly accelerated by modern culture. it's irresponsible to chastise gay people for calling their entrance into gay dating in their 20s and 30s their "second adolescence" without pointing out that you can have firsts at any age that are emotionally heightened, messy, beautiful and meaningful, and that adolescence isnt a bar for this. its frustrating to (correctly) identify capitalism as the primary benefactor of regressive attitudes and entitlements, but not elaborate further. again, however, the article is moreso about personal grievances than any widespread psychological stagnancy, so I suppose that it is to be expected.

by the end of the article, it comes across more like the writer isn't comfortable with the home they've made out of their own adulthood. they see behaviors online that don't exist as anything more than mere gesture, yet it colors their worldview. they're unwilling to exhibit a sympathetic reading of any of the subjects they have listed off, or research further into their potential causes, as it would debilitate their ability to scold them as passionately. they have frankensteined a boogeyman of an alienating world out of opposing, incompatible sources, and somehow manages to say nothing about any of them.

this conclusion seems reasonable until you realize that the self infantilization that one must overcome to revolutionize the world is to stop watching superhero movies, because Alan Moore said they were precursors to fascism (again). It's ironic that an article about adults voluntarily handing over their agency for the comforting stasis of childhood essentially depends on the rather narrow, black and white thinking of children to convey it's point.

It's wild because I think if the writer had picked one thing (YA novel culture and its many sycophants, superhero movies, abusers feigning hurt and naivete) to write about, it could have been an illuminating take. But no....it's never allowed to be that easy......

[ashessartt]

in honor of my birthday in a few days, I would like to share some st birthday headcanons I have okay thank you enjoy :3

-El doesn’t have a birthday- the day she was born was recorded at the lab but never brought attention too, so she just never celebrated. that was until she moved in with the Byers, and after Joyce’s bday, El brought up that she didn’t have one. Will pitched the idea (at first as a joke) that since everyone already thinks they’re twins, she should share his. And El starts sobbing, like “r,,real,,really,??”” So El and Will both celebrate on March 22nd together :]

-Mike isnt one for anything over the top, but he needs the attention. Like he hates when his family goes crazy and surprise him with what-have-you, but when it’s too low key he gets upset and gets all existential. And the party picks up on this. They used to always have sleepovers at the Wheelers on Mikes bday, where they’d just stay up late and play games and have fun

-Jonathan is an Absolute early November baby, like he just gives off those vibes (which makes Wills disappearance even sadder- but we can ignore that 💀)

-Max never celebrated her birthday; it just meant spending more time with the assholes in her family. But after spending time with the party, she realized birthdays can actually be fun. so the party will take her to someplace for the day (like the arcade or the movies) and just let her have her day. One year, the party saved up and all pitched in to get her a new skateboard, and that was the first time she cried in front of them.

-Steve is a June kid. try and prove me wrong; you can’t

-Lucas and Erica have a little tradition where they make something for one another- nothing big or drastic, but it means the world to Lucas (she tends to make little figurines or origami and he keeps them on their own space on his desk)

-Argyle is a late July baby

-Dustin prefers “meaningful & quality time” over physical stuff for his bday, so the party will give him “coupons” and set up a day to hang out one on one (the core four play dnd, max and lucas take him to the arcade, will invites dustin to his house to draw (and he gives the drawing to dustin after) and so forth)

okay thank you for reading have a nice day <3

[jonathangoodbyers]

random mundane headcanons

will cried when he found out santa isnt real

eddie frequently got lice as a kid and that's why he used to have a shaved head

steve had a lot of different babysitters when he was little and he had a crush on every single one of them

lucas still thinks fart sounds are hilarious and max pretends she finds it gross but she secretly thinks its funny

billy was a MENACE of a toddler and he used to bite people all the time

max never really had a girl best friend before eleven

robin is super clumsy and falls a lot but she's never broken a bone and is really proud of that

when nancy wants something from her dad all she has to do is pout and he gives in. it infuriates mike.

when eddie was in elementary school he would always be bouncing back and forth in his chair, his teacher got so sick of it that she would tell eddie to run across the schoolyard for a bit so he would calm down.

billy believes in astrology because his mom did (cuz shes a hippie). he does use this knowledge to flirt with girls but he always makes it sound like their signs are compatible (even when he knows they aren't). also he's an aries.

mike zones out really hard. like, someone can be talking to him for a minute straight and he will not hear a word.

will is actually shit at math, he does really well in every other subject but numbers are just not his thing

dustins mom kinda spoils him but the only time she ever said no was when dustin asked for a dog (it was really difficult for her but she's a cat person through and through)

steve cries real easily when watching sad movies

eleven hides snacks around the house like a squirrel

mike always has crumbs in his bed, he doesn't know how they got there

jonathan is actually a pretty good cook, but argyle insists that he doesn't use enough seasoning

nancy was really excited when she found out her mom was pregnant with holly, mike could not have cared less.

will is a hand-holder, doesn't matter who it is he just likes to hold hands with people

billy's camaro has a name and so does eddie's guitar

[thealmightyemprex]

So Turns out Jaws is really good guys

SO I am revisting Spielbergs early diecting work ,at least his theatrically released work ,already reviewed Duel (TV Movie but it got a theatrical release ) and Sugarland Express,and now we are getting to the big one:Jaws

In this 1975 film ,a shark is going around eating people near Amity Island ,and it is up to Police Chief ,Martin Brody (Roy Scheider ) ,Oceanographer ,Matt Hooper (Richard Dreyfus ) and professional Shark killer Quint (Robert Shaw ) to hunt down and slay the beast

Sooooooo....I saw the firs half hour of this film at about 8 or 9 and it scared me .Now while other movies that scared me I ended up loving,there are a select few ,where my brain interperted it as"I dont like this"(Namely this and Spirited AWay ).NOw I have revisited the film a few times since I was a teen,but while I could tell it was good ,I couldnt love it ......Now on my third full watch I can say....This is a darn good movie that I do like

Its a very important film in American cinema as it takes elements from films before it like 20000 Leagues Under the Sea,Seven Samurai,Creature from the Black Lagoon and the Birds,and combines them into a mixture.....That has ended up being the blue print for nearly 50 years of big blockbuster features

If I were to say what genre the film belonged to it is somewher between an action thriller ....And a monster horror film .In truth the film is very scary ,with some great jump scares (Including one of the scariest in cinema I feel ) ,a brilliant use of suspense(HElped by Johhn Williams amazing score ) and a premise that is inherently horrifying as unlike many other movie monsters,Sharks are real terrifying apex predators (THough in reality ,Shark attcks are less common then you think ) and despite seeing the film before..........I still was spooked watching

One thing I love about the film is how distinct the first half and second half is .The first hour we have a bunch of characters ,the shark basically going into human territory ,and the towns people reaction to the events......Which leads to a very isolated second hour,with only three characters stuck at sea with this beast ,and basically our heroes are in the sharks territory

I like the various characters who makeup the town .Of the supporting cast the two most important are Lorrianne Gary as Ellen Brody and Muarry Hamilton as the Mayor. Lorriane Gary does an excellent job but of the supporting characters the most memorable is Muarry Hammilton as the Mayor.The Mayor isnt a villain (Unlike copy cat characters,he does have humanity ) but his shortsighted pursuit of profit and keeping a sense of normalcy make him a strikingly realistic and honestly sadly relevent antagonist.Hamilton does a great job and I find it amusing this character has become kind of a shorthand for stubborn politicians who ignore something dangerous

I adore all threeof our main characters ,Roy Scheider makes for a good every man hero ,Richard Dreyfus is fun as the brainy guy ,and Robert Shaw makes for a perfect wild card .ACting wise Robert Shaw might be my favorite part of the film ,but that might be cause he is the most entertaining ,with his sea shanty singing ,his great intro and having a monologue that is so damn good I was so damn invested in it .What I really love is how the three play off each other ,both when they are at eachothers throats but also when they are bonding .My favorite scene in the whole film is when theyve had a couple of drinks....And they just start singing this song together ,its just a nice moment I like

But this is a monster movie,I gotta talk aboout the monster Nicknamed Bruce (AFter Spielbergs lawyer ) the shark was mechanical .....and infamous forthe fact it malfunctionesd....A lot.This led to Spielberg using the shark as little as possible,and you mostly see it near the end .I think this was a blessing in disguise cause when you actually see the thing it makes iit even scarier.I also think Bruce looks really good ,like I know the prop was a pain,but it actually looks ver convincing to me .It also is just an effective villain in that it plays ona very primal fear,the beast that is just out to get ya

OVerall its a pretty damn good movie

@ariel-seagull-wings @angelixgutz @amalthea9 @the-blue-fairie @themousefromfantasyland @theancientvaleofsoulmaking @goodanswerfoxmonster @princesssarisa @filmcityworld1

[avintagekiss24]

SIGN ON THE LINE || STEVE ROGERS

PRETTY WOMAN AU

pairing: Escort!Steve Rogers x bisexual!black!reader ; minor pairing: escort! steve rogers x bisexual!black!reader x bisexual!natasha romanov || word count: 14,446 || warnings: smut, sex, rough sex, ass eating, butt stuff, oral sex (male & female receiving), rough oral sex (male receiving), vaginal fingering, face sitting/riding, 69, cockwarming, nipple play, consensual voyeurism, prostitution, daddy kink

authors note: right under the buzzer! this is for @allaboardthereadingrailroad​ marvel diversity challenge! my prompt was Pretty Woman AU. this is a pretty loose interpretation of the movie, but there are some similarities threaded throughout if you’re familiar with it. once again, a lot was inspired by @honeychicanawrites​ headcanons here, here, and here. there was also a black and white gif floating around of an animated woman, rubbing, sucking, and fucking her dude, but i lost the link! (i was gonna embed it, but i don’t want my post flagged). also, daily convos with @tropicalcap​ led to some of the filth. enjoy!

line divider by @firefly-graphics​

The wine glass clinks against the porcelain of the bathroom counter as you set it down gently, backing up to eye yourself in the mirror. You push your box braids off your shoulders and twist your body, smoothing your manicured hands down your hips as you primp. Sliding your fingers underneath the thin band of your thong, you adjust it slightly, pulling them up on your hips before letting the material snap back to your body, cutting into your flesh. The Zodiac tights come next, wiggling your hips to pull the crystal embedded fishnets up your smooth legs and up over your behind.

You dig your hands into your bra, pushing your tits up so they sit a little higher in it and pucker your lips, adding a little more gloss. A deep buzz sounds throughout the bathroom, your phone illuminating as a text slides through.

In the lobby

A smile spreads across your face. You grab the fluffy, white hotel robe and shrug into it, tying a tight bow at your waist before arranging your hair again and bringing the glass of white wine to your lips to finish it off. The small bottle of Baccarat Rouge 540 is the last accessory you reach for— spritzing your neck and wrist, rubbing them together slowly to spread the sweet, floral aroma. Grabbing your phone, and the now empty wine glass, you move out of the bathroom and hit the light switch to cover the lavish room in darkness.

You’re wet already— tight muscles clamping around nothing as you pad back into your Presidential suite. Blood starts to race, skin heats up as your heart beat grows harder. You’re so fucking horny it hurts. Stomach is tight and knotted, your clit achy and sore— fingers not enough to quell the need. So you went out one night, found a sex shop, which isnt hard in the heart of L.A.; bought a pretty glass dildo and a diamond studed butt plug— even a pocket vibrator, but it wasn’t enough. You need the real thing, a big, hard, dripping, warm cock to put you out of your misery so you can focus on the reason you’re in L.A. in the first place.

“Oh girl,” Natasha winked, handing over an off white business card, “Having dick on retainer is a must.”

You flipped it over in your hand, your dark eyes skimming over the telephone number printed in the middle of the card, the initials S.G.R. scrawled out just underneath it, “Give him a call,” she winked, “He’ll keep you plenty occupied while you’re here.”

That was two days ago— over a business lunch when the VP of Operations and CEO of the company you’re trying to acquire stepped away from the table. You’d known Natasha Romanov for exactly one week at that point, but she knew the desperation of a woman going without— you're convinced she smelled it on you as soon as you walked into her office. It took her a few days to pry it out of you, but once she caught you discreetly making eyes at the waiter, she grabbed your wrist and pulled you in close.

You’re a woman of the world, you both realize and understand sex work is a valuable commodity, and champion it, for men and women alike. But you never honestly had to give it a second thought, you’ve always had options. A cute little black book that sits just inside of your nightstand, full of names that can satisfy your every mood.

Tony for a quickie when you’re buzzed and on the way to an event, Sam for a back breaking, fingers in your mouth, ‘call me daddy’ romp, sweet Bruce when you want it real nice and slow— somebody to love you just for the night. That little black book doesn’t help you in L.A., and you aren’t about to fly somebody out for a four hour layover.

There’s a rap at the door, three quick knocks, “Just one second.” you call sweetly, slipping into a pair of Giuseppe heels— your favorite Giuseppe heels.

You untie the belt around your waist and throw the robe over the back of the couch as you click towards the door, leaving you in your black, strapless bra, thin thong, and waist high tights. There’s really no need to be modest— you’re both adults. Turning the square, stainless steel door handle, you pull gently, throwing it open for the tall, blonde man leaning against the far wall. He stands up straight, blue eyes going wide as they drop down your body, pink lips quirking into a lopsided grin.

You spin on your heels and retreat back into the room slowly, hearing the door as it hitches when he catches it with his palm. Eyes are on your body as you switch your hips seductively, moving towards the minibar. You can’t help the smile that curls onto your lips.

“Would you like a drink, Mr. Rogers?” You purr, voice low and smooth.

“Steve’s fine,” his voice equally low, equally smooth, “What do you have?”

You hum, opening the small fridge and bending just slightly, poking out your ass, “Looks like Modelo, Vodka, Rum,” you point towards the ice bucket, a bottle of Dom Perignon resting in the chips, “Champagne. I also have some white wine.”

You glance back at him, your braids dangling over your shoulder, swinging gently with each little movement you make. Steven Grant Rogers is a sight for sore eyes— and a sore pussy. He’s tall and lean, chest and shoulders wide and broad, biceps thick. His waist is small, but it adds a little allure to his frame, giving him a little shape. He has a sense of style about him too, another tick in the ‘pro’ column for him. His suit is a simple one but it reeks of great expense. Black, slim fit, no tie. Crisp, white button down with the first couple of buttons undone. Black red bottoms, and a titanium, black faced Hublot watch.

Creed Aventus fills your nostrils as you breathe in and your muscles clench again. You like a man with lavish taste.

“Champagne, please. Not too much though, I don’t like to drink when I’m with a client.” Curious eyes follow you as you move towards the ice bucket, staying on you as you pour two flutes, “I don’t want any misunderstandings.”

“Misunderstandings?”

His thick fingers brush along yours as you step close, handing him the tall, thin flute. They’re soft, his fingers. He nods gently, clinking the rim of his glass with yours before he lifts it to his pink lips, licking them slowly, “Gotta keep a clear head.”

A sharp inhale of air fills your lungs; a sly smile tugs at your lips. Through hooded eyes, the two of you keep watch of the other as you both down the bubbly champagne. Your lips tingle as you rub the glass along your bottom lip, your eyes bouncing around his handsome, heavily bearded face. His eyes twinkle underneath the lights as they roam— down your chest and stomach, down your long legs— slowly. Drinking you in. Taking stock of each curve, each dip, each line.

His eyes snap back to yours suddenly, but they’re different. Hungry. Aggressive. You take another breath, holding it in your chest for a tick before you exhale and cross your legs, squeezing them tight.

He takes a step forward, closing the already small distance between the two of you to a mere inch, maybe even less than that. He drops his eyes again, his eyelids closing to slits, the dark, delicate, long eyelashes lining them splash out on his cheeks. He inhales deep, a small, thin hum vibrating in his throat as he’s filled with the sweetness of your perfume.

“Nervous?”

The word greets your ears softly, just as it left his pretty mouth. You lick your bottom lip and pull it between your teeth, chewing as your eyes bounce between his. He smiles, pushing his face closer so the tips of your noses touch. He rubs your noses together slowly, up along your bridge, and then the tips again, his smile growing.

“There’s no need to be nervous. We’ll take it real nice and slow, okay?” his voice steady and smooth, low and soft, “You’ve never done this before?”

Two mammoth hands push along your hips, slowly dragging up and down, up and down, up and down. You swallow, a pathetic tremble sounding in your throat that gets him to smile again, “It’s that obvious?”

He chuckles, “It’s okay, honey.” he answers, hands pushing over your ass, “I’ll get you warmed up.”

He squeezes your behind; you inhale again, your hands settling on his chest. Your body is moving, swaying gently back and forth at his insistence, his hands pushing up to the small of your back. Blue eyes stay on deep browns as his warm palm settles in the center of your back, holding you in his orbit. You start to rub his chest, feeling the bulk, the muscles of him— the thick. Your index finger drifts; drifts towards the open buttons of his shirt, playing with them; eyes settling on the sliver of skin and dark hair showing through.

A knuckle pushes just underneath your chin, pressing, pressing, pressing until your head, more importantly your mouth, is tilted up to his. Your eyelids instantly— instinctively— droop, lips part in wait, in want; in need. Hooded blue eyes gaze back at you, a hint of a smile on his lips.

“May I?”

Shudders ripple down your spine as reddened lips brush along yours, “Please.” It’s desperate— the way you ask.

Steve licks into you with his tongue, groaning a little when he sucks your top lip into his mouth. He pulls you in, right up against his hard body, your hands sliding over his shoulders and wrapping around his neck. This mouth is skilled— tongue slipping along your bottom lip and caressing your own. Not too rough, not too gentle, just enough to make you melt into him; to make you go a little limp in his arms.

He nibbles on your bottom lip, pulling softly until he lets go, letting it snap back to your face. A giggle bubbles up, filling the air surrounding you and you swear you feel his dick twitch.

“Feel better?”

You smile sweetly, pulling out of his grasp and sauntering towards your abandoned phone. Tapping into the short text stream with him, you snap your eyes back to him when his phone chimes seconds later. You watch as he digs it out of his pocket and another grin cracks his face as his cash app alerts him to the fifteen hundred deposited into his account.

“Does that answer your question?”

Those pretty white teeth of his dig into his bottom lip, trying and failing to hide the grin that’s been brought upon by your quick wit. He pulls his jacket off of his shoulders, tossing it over the back of the couch before ticking his head towards the bedroom, “Bed please.”

You do not hesitate. You pass by each other as you move towards the bedroom, him towards the ice bucket, plucking it from the table in the center of the room and turning on his heel to follow you. You toss your eyes over your shoulder as you flounce, hips switching again, heels clink, clink, clinking against the marble floor.

The lights of the bedroom rise automatically from the sudden motion in the room. You feel weightless as you fall onto the mattress hands first, crawling into the center of the king bed. His footsteps continue to sound as he enters behind you, setting the champagne bucket at the end of the bed as you prop against the headboard, drawing your legs up, swaying them back and forth slowly.

Steve keeps his eyes on you as he starts to pull on his cufflinks, unclipping the double knotted, sterling silver Tiffany & Co. accessories to free his arms. He rolls his sleeves up his forearms, revealing hair and thick veins— more flexing muscles. Blue eyes bounce between the task at hand and you, that soft smile pulling at the corners of his lips never wavering, never leaving. Foreplay at its best.

Once his forearms are free of the constricting material around them, he grabs the champagne bottle by the neck and plucks out a crystal flute, dropping his eyes from yours as he pours another glass. He moves around the side of the bed, champagne bottle in hand as he sits next to you, handing over the full glass. Lifting it to your lips, you snap your eyes to him when he tuts quickly, wagging that thick index finger back and forth.

Your mouth drops open, eyes go large as you watch him take a swig, right from the bottle. He then leans over you, pushing his index finger into your chin again, tilting your head up towards his. Warm, pink lips crowd your open mouth, his eyes closing gently, the cool, bubbly liquid slipping from his mouth right into yours. You sound— sweet, tiny, pitiful— as you swallow his offering, him kissing you quick after, not giving you time to reel from the intimacy of it.

He’s gone again, just as quickly as he came, heading back to the end of the bed. He knees onto the edge, large palms sliding over your bent knees, fingertips slipping down your calves, gripping and groping as they go. He drops one hand— right to his pants— sends his eyes back to yours as he pops the shiny button and unzips them at a snail's pace. Steve lets his pants hang open as he slides his hands down your thighs, all the way down to the juncture of your hips and legs, pushing his thumbs into the creases.

Steve pushes forward, forcing your legs open as he settles in, resting that hard, lean, strapping body on yours— kissing you again. Deep this time. Bruising. Tongue kneading yours, smacking and sucking your lips into his wet mouth. Moans, both his and yours, thrum and vibrate in your chests and throats. Your muscles clench again.

Lips and mouth are on the move— down your chin, nuzzling into the soft, sensitive crook of your neck. He licks, slow, before sucking the skin, finding that one little pesky spot that makes your hips jut up into his quick. He’s hard, and that makes you whimper again. You hold the champagne flute up high in your right hand, trying not to spill the contents as your hips start to roll, free hand wrapping around and digging into his thick bicep— but you aren’t so lucky. A few drops dribble from the glass and onto your chest, slipping down between your cleavage.

You shiver when his hot tongue slides between your tits to collect the cold droplets, his hands prying the silk material of your bra down. There’s a sound, a grunt, that cultivates deep in his throat at the sight of you, bare and wanton— nipples thick and perky. He slips his hands behind your back to unhook your bra, tossing it without a care to the floor once you’re free.

He inhales sharp, a hiss slipping through his teeth, “Fuck, these are beautiful.”

Your back arches up into his hands as he grabs your tits, squeezing gently, him moaning all the while. He thumbs your nipples before taking one into his warm mouth, tongue flicking and swirling, teeth grabbing. Your body jerks up into him, hips and chest, mouth falls open before your face twists in pleasure. He gives your other breast the same attention— kissing, licking, sucking before he ventures on, his fingers digging underneath the thin band of your tights and pulling gently.

Reddened lips follow his fingers, down your waist, down your hips, down your thighs, calves, ankles, toes until you’re free of the sheer garment. You sip on the bubbly champagne as his hot tongue pushes up the inside of your calf. Sweet kisses are pressed against the subtle curve of your knee, blue eyes through long, dark eyelashes on yours the whole while. Deep, stormy eyes— the kind of eyes that make you wanna think they’re only for you; aroused by you and you alone.

He draws that red bottom lip between his teeth, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, eyes twinkling with a bit of mischief as he nuzzles into your thigh. His fingers curl around the strings of your thong as his eyes dip quickly. You close your eyes and take another sip of your drink when he starts to pull, a soft smile of your own spreading on your face as he exposes you.

There’s fingers— suddenly. Softly. Rubbing. A low hum vibrating in his throat as he touches you. A soft moan slips from between your lips as your hips start to roll, meeting each pass of his digits. Your slick already; clit hypersensitive, almost pained from going so long without. His touch is experienced, slow and deliberate as he presses soft, warm kisses against your thigh, rubbing his bearded cheek against the delicate skin.

The tips of his fingers start to drift. Down, down, down, away from your nub and to your slit where he rubs— caresses— gently. Then they’re pushing, his fingers, index and middle, sinking into you deep, pulling a sharp gasp from you.

He smiles wide before pushing out a breath, “That’s a tight fit, honey baby.” he purrs before blowing softly onto your hot, wet cunt, “It’s been a while, huh?” his voice soft, fingers pumping slowly, “Yeah, it’s been a while. Look at you squeezing down on me, baby.”

Your body jerks when Steve presses his lips to your pussy. He hums as he kisses you again and again and again, before he flattens his tongue against your clit, rubbing gently. He sucks you into his mouth, his eyes closing, eyelashes spreading over his cheeks. Your thin fingers thread into his long, blonde hair, gripping and tugging as your hooded eyes watch his head bob left and right, up and down while he devours you.

Heat blooms in your chest and stomach as you take another sip of champagne and it settles in your belly. You rest your heavy head against the headboard, licking your lips as uncontrolled moans spill from your mouth. Another sharp gasp fills the room as a third finger slips into your eager body. You can’t stop the laughter that bubbles up in your chest, and the satisfied groan that follows.

“Is this what you wanted, baby?”

His voice is as smooth as silk, the deepness of it rattling your fragile bones, “This isn’t all that I wanted, but this is a good start, Mr. Rog—” you pant, words cut off as you lift your hips when he starts to hit that little spot, “Ah, fuck.”

“Mmmm,” he purrs again, “I know this isn’t all you wanted, greedy girl.” Greedy girl. Your cunt clenches at the words, “Oooh,” he smiles as sitting up a little when he feels you tighten, “You like that? Are you Daddy’s greedy girl?”

The champagne flute slips from your fingers, the liquid spilling over your chest and stomach, pooling in your belly button, “Uh oh,” he coos, slipping his tongue up your body, sucking up the spill with his lips as he goes, “Responsive little thing.”

He pulls his fingers from you, leaving you empty, causing a frustrated, childish grunt to rumble through your chest. Steve tuts at you again, although smiling all the while as he starts to work himself out of his shirt. You bite down into your bottom lip as you watch him, more and more of his buttery, tanned, smooth skin coming into view.

His chest is wide, thick with conditioned muscles. Dark hair is splashed across the pallet of his pecs, the little happy trail spreading out across his lower stomach. There’s a deep v carved into his hips— hard abs and biceps flex as he moves. His weight leaves the mattress as he stands and shoves his fingers into his pants, pushing them down sturdy, hairy thighs. Your eyes instantly fall to the dick print in his black Armani stretch boxer briefs. Fuck.

You slip your hand down your side, over your hip and right between your sticky folds, hissing gently as you start to rub yourself, impatient and needy.

“Good girl.” he praises, making your heart sing.

He drops his hand to his dick, squeezing himself as he smirks at you. What a fucking tease— but nonetheless, your pussy clenches around absolutely nothing from just the sight of him. Those fingers of his push underneath the stretchy band of his boxers and start to tug, slowly, slowly, slowly, exposing more and more of his wiry, dark hair and skin. You drag in a deep breath when his cock finally springs free, an impressive girth bouncing as the material pushes over it.

He steps out of his boxers and starts to stroke himself, long, slow drags of his hand up and down his shaft as he watches you dip your fingers into your pussy. You tilt your hips upward as you pump your fingers, the heel of your palm pressing against your clit. Your mouth falls open, your eyes flutter, air chokes up in your throat as you fuck yourself for him, enjoying his hungry eyes on all of you.

But when he’s had enough, he’s had enough. He falls onto his knees, his weight dipping into the mattress and inches towards you, pulling your hand away. His fingers replace yours, rubbing your clit, pushing through your folds, teasing your slit quickly before he slides his hands underneath your butt and pulls you down the bed. His fingers dance over your knees before he pushes them apart and your legs fall open, pussy on full display.

Steve falls over you, hands on either side of your head, as he leans downs and captures your lips again, kissing you sweetly. There’s a sharp taste on his lips and tongue— it's you. You lean into his kiss, deepening it with your tongue as you push your hips upward, shivering when the tip of his cock glances over your clit. Shivers wrack your body again, prompting him to laugh, “Okay greedy girl, okay.”

He pulls back, rolling his shoulders as he slips his fingers between your breasts. You reach for him too— raking your fingers down his chest and stomach as he starts to push at your opening. You grip his side, digging your nails into his thick skin as the head of his cock breaks into you. He slides, agonizingly slow, his long fingers wrapping around your throat as he disappears into you, his own mouth dropping open as you envelope him.

“Fuck,” he groans, letting his head fall as he pushes a breath out of his mouth, his grip around your neck tightening slightly, “You fit me like a glove, honey.”

You push your hips, urging him to move as you wrap your small hand around his wrist and push it up his long arm, stroking gently, “Come on, baby.” You murmur, using your head to push away from the mattress slightly.

“What’s that, honey?” he asks, “Tell me, baby. Use your words.”

You mewl, husky, hips still pushing up into his, “God— fuck me, Steve. Please.”

You push your hips down into the mattress, his dick drawing out of you just slightly. You thrust back up, pushing him back in, deep, before you pull back again— over and over and over. He watches the connection, watching himself disappear and then reappear as he squeezes your throat, a steady, gentle pressure. You keep a hold of his large wrist, gasping and whimpering as you fuck up onto him.

“That’s right, doll,” he whispers, “You fuck my dick, baby. I should be paying you, shouldn’t I?”

You roll your shoulders, moaning loud, “Please,” you beg— nearly cry, “Please, fuck me. Please!”

He thrusts into you hard— biting off the words in your throat. You squeak when he fucks into you again, your tits bouncing with the force.

“Is that what you want?” he asks, thrusting into you a third time, “Hmm? Is that what you want, honey?”

You nod quickly, your face breaking, a long, strangled noise spilling out of you as he pushes his hips into yours. He sets a bruising pace after the first teasing thrusts. Hard, fast pumps of his hips into yours, skin against skin, the sound bouncing off the walls. Wet, choked sounds squeak out from you as he keeps a hold of your throat, your small hands still wrapped around his wrist and forearm. You swallow hard, the pressure from his hand making it slightly difficult but the sheer power— or the restraint he shows despite his obvious strength— makes you want to melt into the mattress.

Steve leans down, licking into your mouth with his tongue as he fucks. He kisses you hard, releasing with a loud smack before he grabs your face and chin, squeezing your cheeks as he shakes your head back and forth gently, “Does that feel good, baby?” he taunts, his red, full lips brushing along yours, “Come on sweetness, don’t go all quiet on me now.”

“S’good,” you grunt, slamming your eyes closed, “Fu— ah! Fuck!”

“That’s right, girl. This is exactly what you needed.”

You’re hoisted up, right up into his lap, your legs curling around his sides. Not missing a beat, you start to bounce and rock freely, throwing your head back as you hang on to his broad shoulders. His large hand wraps around your throat again, but his fingers creep up over your chin, the tips pushing into your mouth. You hum as you suck on them, sucking the salt of your slick right off the pads of his fingers.

Your wet muscles squeak with each push of his cock. Quick, hot spurts of precum dribbling into you as his hips thrust to meet yours. His free hand grips your hips, hefty fingers pushing into your skin, helping you move. Your nipples brush along his chest, the gentle sensation sending flashes of heat and electricity through your body— shudders racing down your spine. The hand around your waist snakes up your back, his fingers playing with the ends of your braids.

He pulls gently, then backs off, mouth agape and eyes wide as they search your face, seemingly asking permission. He tugs again and you let him— your head falling back as your tongue pushes down the length of the index and middle fingers still shoved in your mouth. Your scalp prickles with pain as he pulls harder, craning your head back further, exposing your neck. A screech explodes from your lips when his pearly whites sink into the crook of your neck before he sucks hard, pulling blood to the surface.

Faltering hips, wet smacks, damp skin to damp skin— it’s all so filthy. So crude— but exactly what you’ve needed. His hands leave your hair, leave your mouth; one wraps around your throat and the other thumbs your nipple. He keeps his eyes on you as he hisses, his hips pushing, fingers tweaking, hand tightening to push you closer and closer towards a release. Your pitch heightens, your grunts and cries shaky and desperate as he eggs you on.

“You gonna come for me, sugar?” he asks sweetly, kissing you quick and hard, “It’s okay baby, you can let go. You’ve earned it, sweet girl. You’ve been such a good girl.”

A broken moan chokes in your throat. He ruts harder and faster, each thrust pushing deeper, touching that sweet, vulnerable spot until—

Red hot is the orgasm that ripples through you. You wail as it blooms across your flesh, your toes curling and fingers digging into his shoulders. He grabs your hips as you come, guiding you down onto his cock, and then helping you rock back and forth to drain every last drop of your release. His grip around your waist tightens, his own grunts growing louder before a burst of heat swells in your cunt.

Steve punctuates his spurts with deep, sharp thrusts, hissing and groaning with each one until he’s spent. He murmurs sweet nothings into your neck, hot breath sticking to your damp skin. Your limbs turn to liquid, your head fuzzy and warm as he guides you down to the mattress. He slips out of you, strings of silk following, trickling down your hot, trembly cunt. Sweet, soft lips press against your chest and stomach, over your hips and down your legs as large hands massage your thighs and calves.

A calm washes through you as your eyes grow heavy, your breaths getting deeper and longer as you melt into the soft mattress. You feel Steve moving around, crawling back up to where you are. A long arm slips over your stomach, pulls you close, right into his warm chest and stomach. His beard and lips brush over your temple and cheek, soft fingertips run up and down your arm, pretty epithets lulling you into a gentle sleep.

You’re just as sweet as sugar, honey baby. Such a good girl.

~~~

You roll your shoulders as you shift, eyes fluttering as you start to wake. It takes a few long seconds before your eyes adjust, the room lights having long since dimmed. The moon is high in the jet black sky as bright stars smatter across the canvas. You're still cocooned underneath a heavy arm and crushed against a burly chest, a soft smile spreading on your face as he snores gently.

3:12am flashes on the digital clock on the nightstand as you feel him roll away from you in his sleep, rolling over onto his side, exposing his wide back. Your fingers instantly glance over his smooth skin, skimming down his spine before they curl over his bicep. You should have been sated, but there’s another pull— deep in your belly; still eager, still wanting. Closing the distance between your bodies, you push your bare breasts into his back as you slide your hand underneath the sheets and down his chest and stomach.

You push up onto your elbow and thread your fingers into his dirty blonde hair as your other fingers brush over his soft cock. You wrap your small hand around him and stroke him gently, right from his stomach to the tip of his pretty dick, your palm sweeping over his cockhead and slit. Another smile tugs at the corners of your mouth as he stirs after a few minutes but doesn’t fully wake; just pushes his hips languidly into your hand.

His deep breathing soon turns shallow and choppy, soft moans scratching at the back of his throat but he never opens his eyes. Warm droplets of precum bubble from his slit and you brush the pads of your fingers over the wetness, dragging it back down his quickly hardening shaft. You rile him up, make his cock rigid and angry before you pull on his hip, rolling him over onto his back.

You throw your leg over his body and settle on top of him, ass up, lips mere inches from his hot sex. In one fell swoop, you follow your hand down his cock with your mouth, his hips jerking softly from the wet warmth surrounding him. Humming, you flatten your tongue along him, the tip tracing the thick vein that runs the length of his shaft. You bob your head up and down, sucking and swirling your tongue over his tip, teasing his slit as more drops of salt-sweet cum dribble on your tongue.

Steve’s hands slither up your thighs, grab your ass and squeeze as you suck him off, his hips jutting upward into your velvet mouth. Your mouth goes slack, your eyes fluttering when he slips two fingers into your wet cunt. He fingers you slow, his thumb pressing against your asshole as you start to writhe, rolling your hips against his hard abs to massage your clit.

You pull off of him, your hand still moving up and down, squeezing him as you pucker your lips— letting them gently brush against his cock. His hips rock up into your hand, his moans growing louder by the minute, deep gasps and sighs making his chest tighten underneath your body.

“Goddamn, baby,” his voice low and groggy from sleep.

Your muscles clench around his fingers as they delve and prod, his thumb pushing and circling your warm rim. A hot breath and a quick groan push out between your teeth, his dick jumping in your hand as the air tickles his skin. You swallow him again, taking every inch, relaxing your throat to accommodate him as you bury your face in the dark blonde hair at his groin.

Steve curls his fingers, lightly scratching at your insides, making you clamp down on them, squeezing them tight; holding them in.

Steve shifts underneath you, sucking in a sharp breath, “Get up here, baby. I wanna taste you.”

The sound of his voice rattles through you. His words still slurred with sleep, voice husky. You oblige, wanting his beard between your legs once more, sweeping along the inside of your thighs. You clamor up to him, straddling his face, your thighs closing in on either side of his head. Steve flattens his head on the pillow underneath him and opens his mouth, pushing his tongue out in anticipation of you.

You push your hips forward, rolling your cunt over his lips and tongue. Your head falls back, jaw goes slack as you start to ride his face, his tongue pushing through your sticky, puffy folds with ease. A wet noise fills the room— both his tongue and lips smacking and sucking on your messy flesh. Your hand finds his cock again, your fingers fondling his tip and that pulsing vein.

A chorus of whimpers and whines, quick gasps and deep growls roll through your chest as you grab his hair, pulling his face— if it’s possible— even closer to your cunt. Steve's face is flushed red in the moonlight. He balls the sheets in his hands as he flicks the tip of his tongue against you before he sucks your folds and clit into his mouth, his head shaking gently back and forth. He only releases you to drag in quick, wet breaths before closing back in on you, humming and moaning.

A soft burn spreads through your thighs as you canter your hips, using his chin and nose, along with his tongue and mouth to cop a feel. You’re close again, hips jerking with unexpectancy, your core also starting to burn as your body strains with its need.

Steve isn’t done with you yet. He rearranges you quickly, lifting you right off of him. Your knees sink into the mattress as he grabs your wrists and flattens your hands flat on the headboard.

He fucks into you from behind, not wasting a second in setting a brisk pace. He holds your hips in his hands, fingers digging into your skin as you drop your head, your braids swinging. Your tits bounce with his thrusts, your head knocking into the velvet headboard as you hold yourself up against it. Steve’s hips and balls slap against your ass as he gruffly pulls you back into him. A hand curls around your hip and travels up to your tits, grabbing your nipple between his index finger and thumb to tweak and pull and roll the thick nub.

You’re panting again, cursing and howling as your stomach tightens and your heart leaps, heat rippling through you. A quick sweat pops up on your brow, goosebumps prickle up along your body as your toes start to curl again. Steve’s hips are relentless, driving, driving, driving hard, his girth filling every inch that you have to offer. His fingers start to prod your asshole again, pushing gently against your rim as it constricts and relaxes.

It doesn’t take much. The soft pads of his fingers against your rim, and one, two, three more  strokes of his hips and you’re gone. Your mind going blank as your orgasm rushes. Steve fucks you right through it, dropping a hand to your clit as it jumps with the contractions of your cunt. He teases it— your clit— slapping and rubbing quick circles as your walls squeeze around him, finally coaxing him to come again.

You decide that you like the way it feels when he comes inside of you. His silk ribbons coating your squeaky muscles. You collapse against the mattress after your release washes through you. Steve falls beside you, rolling over onto his back and flattening his hand in the middle of his chest as he catches his breath.

“Gettin’ your money’s worth, huh?”

You dissolve into laughter, pushing your face into the blankets as you lay on your stomach, “I am a shrewd businesswoman, Mr. Rogers.”

“You don’t hear me complaining, do you?”

~~~

“It’s a financial risk, for sure,” you reiterate, hands shoved into the pockets of your slim fit pants, your suit jacket open, “But I assure you, we can turn this company around. Carter & Danvers hasn’t had an acquisition fail in over thirty years. I will personally oversee this transition through— until it’s turning a profit.”

All eyes are on you in the boardroom as Hank Prym, CEO and pain in the ass that just won’t sign the goddamn contract, of Lang & Prym Inc. stares back at you, fingers threaded over his lips. For whatever reason, he doesn’t trust you or anything that you have to say, despite the fact that within six months— or less— his company will have to file bankruptcy. Natasha Romanov, CFO of Lang & Prym, sits to his left, green eyes sliding between his and yours. Her delicate fingers play with the pen between them, rolling it slowly as she tosses her short, red hair.

“Mr. Prym,” she starts, “We have to do something. We aren’t going to last much longer without their help. I crunched the numbers for you multiple times.”

He shakes his head slowly, his dark eyes glancing off towards the windows, “We have time, right?”

“We do,” Natasha nods, “But—“

“I’m not ready to sign yet. Not yet,” he stands, and everyone else placed around the table follows his lead. He moves around the table and up to where you are, extending his hand and shaking yours gently, “You’re good, but I’m just not ready yet.”

You smile softly, tapping the back of his hand with your free one, “That’s alright, this is tough, I realize that.”

“I’m glad they sent you instead of that Wade Wilson,” he chuckles, “How long are you in town for?”

“Indefinitely. Until you sign with us, Mr. Prym, I’m a Los Angelean.”

“Well,” he starts, taking a step towards the door, “Have Natasha show you around town. She knows this little taco place that’s to die for.”

You toss your eyes towards Natasha as she approaches and wink, “I’ll take her up on that. She’s already given me a tip or two about the lays of the land.”

You shake hands with the rest of the board members as they exit the room, finally leaving you and the smirking redhead alone. There may be a little underlying tension between you and her, you aren’t entirely sure yet, but you know that her eyes tend to linger on your frame just a tad longer than they should— not that you mind the extra attention, especially from someone as effortlessly attractive as she is.

Her arms are crossed over her chest as she sits on the edge of the mahogany table. A tight, black pencil skirt accentuates her shapely hips and long legs. A red satin blouse, unbuttoned strategically to show off her soft, pretty, full breasts.

“You’re looking a little more lively today.” Her silk smooth voice floats towards you, making you smile, “You gave my pal a call, eh?”

A devilish smile curls on your lips as you push your hands back into your pockets, “He was worth every fucking cent.”

“Glad to hear it.” She winks, and pushes away from the table, her manicured fingers reaching for your tie. She steps in close as she drags her hand down the length of the skinny tie, her big eyes following, “Maybe the three of us can get dinner sometime, hmm?”

You wiggle your eyebrows, “You just name the time and place, Ms. Romanov.”

She hums approvingly before smoothing down your tie and turning on her heel, clicking out of the boardroom with her file folders in hand.

You plop down in the chair behind your open laptop, exiting out of your powerpoint and bringing up your email. You work for a while, but your mind drifts, back to the night before, back to one Steve Rogers. Broad shoulders, smooth skin, sweet, pretty mouth… soon, the thoughts keep you from working. Soon, you’re leaning back in your chair, your fingers playing with your bottom lip as you sway gently back and forth.

You slide your phone out of your pocket and thumb through your messages, landing on his number. Tapping the screen, you stand and bring it to your ear as you take a few steps towards the windows, your eyes scanning over the city as the phone rings.

“Back so soon?”

You can’t help the smile that spreads on your face as his warm voice fills your ears, “You make it hard to stay away, I must admit. How are you, I’m not disturbing you am I? I mean, you’re probably a busy man.”

He laughs, a warm, deep laugh and your body tightens “I do take breaks, you know.” You giggle, a sudden nervous energy filling you, which is strange. You usually have no problem asking for things you want, “Don’t get all shy on me now, girl.”

“God,” you scoff, tittering again, rolling your eyes playfully.

“Come on, I thought we were passed all this? Do I need to come over there and help you relax again?”

Muscles you weren’t even sure you had, clench tight, “Are you free tonight, Mr. Rogers?”

“You know, I like that. All that Mr. Rogers stuff,” You hear him moving around, then a deep exhale, “I wish I were, doll, but I’ve got a date. Dinner and a function.”

You click your tongue, your shoulders dropping as a quick flash of disappointment washes through you. It doesn’t last long, the disappointment— hell, you make deals for a living, “I’ll double whatever she’s paying you.”

“Oooh,” he purrs, “Jealous, baby?”

“Not jealous,” you point out, “I just don’t like to wait, and I don’t like to lose. It’s not in my nature.”

“That’s very flattering, but I can’t do that. I have a reputation in this city.”

“Yeah,” you laugh, “I’m sure you do.”

“I do! I can’t cancel on such short notice.”

“Then meet me for dessert.”

“Are you trying to kill me?” He laughs earnestly, “Listen, I’m good, but I’m not that good.”

You cover your face with your hand, laughing again, “Oh my god,” you sigh, “Well, fuck. I’ll get with Natasha and see if she can recommend another option for the evening...”

You hear him shuffle through the phone again, another deep sigh pushing out of his nose. He’s quiet for a beat as you tap your index finger against the edge of your phone, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

“Let me get back to you a little later tonight, alright? You and Ms. Romanov behave over there.”

“I told you I was shrewd.”

“You sure did. Wait up for me, babe.”

You smile big, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip, “Will do.”

~~~

His knock sounds through the hotel room, making you tear your eyes from your laptop. You finish your email before pushing away from the small table and padding towards the door, your lace, burgundy kimono flailing with the air. You pull open the door and step to the side instinctively as Steve traipses through the threshold. You let it close with a soft click before you lean against it, crossing your legs and tilting your head as you find two crystal blue eyes on you.

The two of you blink at each other, eyes traveling over one anothers frames. He shrugs out of his black velvet jacket and tosses it over the back of the couch before he starts on his cufflinks. You watch in silence as he rolls up his sleeves, one by one, exposing his forearms just how you like— all veins and hair. His biceps bulge in the white button down, chest rippling underneath his black vest. He keeps flipping his eyes towards you, peeking through those lashes as he smiles.

He beckons you with his index finger and without hesitation, you’re moving towards him, pushing away from the door with your hands. Once you’re within range, he reaches for you, wrapping his long arm around your waist to pull you into him. Laughter bubbles up in your chest as you crash against him, his lips capturing yours in a flurry of kisses.

His hands push over your ass, squeezing your flesh before his palms push up and down your hips, “You look beautiful.” He says softly, his eyes drifting down your matching burgundy and navy bra and panties

You toss your braids over your shoulder before placing your hands back on his chest, “Thank you. How was your dinner?”

“Filling,” he smiles, “But I left room for dessert.”

“Well,” you start, pulling out of his grasp and moving back towards the table, “Hopefully you like chocolate.”

You spin on the balls of your feet to face him again, holding up a small plate with a large piece of chocolate cake. You smile as he laughs, shoving his hands in his pockets as he steps up to you, leaning down just a tad to take a whiff of the freshly baked German chocolate cake. He opens his mouth, flicking those big blue eyes up to yours again, waiting patiently. You pluck the fork that’s dug into the spongy cake and cut off a small piece before placing it at his lips.

He takes it slowly, keeping his eyes on you as he slides his tongue along the bottom of the fork, sucking the cake into his mouth. He chews it carefully, closing his eyes as he hums in satisfaction, licking his lips, “That is good.”

You pop a piece into your mouth, agreeing with his sentiments, “Mmhmm, this is really good.”

Cutting off another piece, you slide it into your mouth, closing your eyes and moaning again. You feel his gaze, drifting down your chest and stomach, down your legs and then back up again. It feels nice— having his full attention. You don’t intend to go without it for the rest of your stay in L.A. While waiting for him, you came up with the perfect solution— your greatest deal yet.

With a gentle flutter, your eyes are open again, finding his staring back into yours. A flush of red seeps into his cheeks and lips, down his neck as his eyes drop to your chest quickly.

“Something the matter?” You ask coolly.

He shakes his head slowly, sucking his teeth, “Rethinking my decision to have dinner, that’s all.”

A smile quirks onto your lips, “A man has to eat, Mr. Rogers.”

“I can survive on chocolate cake and champagne.”

“Not for too long; unless…” your words drift away with ease as you step away from him again, grabbing your phone and heading towards the bedroom.

The soft click of his Christian Loubotin slip ons against the marble floor greets your ears as he follows. You point the fork towards your champagne glass still sitting on the table but keep walking, passing through the threshold of the sprawling bedroom and plopping onto the equally big bed. He enters moments later, hands full of a champagne glass and bottle. The mattress dips with his weight as he sits on the edge, right next to you, where he watches you chew on another piece of the rich cake intently, his gaze only leaving to top off the bubbly, golden liquid.

Steve waits until you pause to pass the square champagne flute your way, thick fingers brushing along your thin, manicured ones. That strong gaze stays on you as you sip, a lopsided grin pinching his cheek, slow blinks until you hand the flute back and cut into the cake once more.

“Well?”

“Well, what?”

He clears his throat at your sudden aloof demeanor, “Don’t be coy, tell me what you’re thinking.”

“I’m not sure I know what you mean.”

He laughs, “Maybe a spanking will help rejog your memory.”

You cut your eyes towards him, inhaling sharply at the notion, “Do you charge extra for that?”

“Only for naughty girls.”

“Let me grab my purse, then.”

You throw your legs over the side of the bed to stand playfully, but he catches your calf with his palm and gently rearranges you on the bed. He takes the fork from your fingers and digs it into the half eaten cake before bringing it to your lips.

“Answer me, please.”

You accept his offering slowly as your body constricts at the firm tone of his voice. You bat your eyes while you chew before slipping your hand down his wrist and forearm, stroking gently, “I was just thinking that you could possibly survive off of chocolate and champagne if that someone indulging you is also offering other vital nutrients.”

His eyes squint as he goes for another piece of cake, this time eating the bite himself, “Ah,” he says after a minute or two, his eyes towards the ceiling as he works it over in his mind, “You’re saying you’d also like to be my dinner.”

“Precisely. I mean, it doesn’t really make sense to leave one restaurant after the main course just to go to another for dessert.”

“It is timely; and, as you know, my time is extremely valuable.” He nods slowly, “My clients are a demanding bunch.”

You smile, “And don’t like to share.”

Steve pushes in close, brushing his lips against yours just to tease. He drops his face and nuzzles into you, the soft hair of his beard caressing the sensitive flesh of your neck before his lips start to nip and nibble.

“So you are jealous.”

The husky fullness of his voice sends a targeted missile to your core— your heart skipping a beat as the air freezes in your lungs. The feeling sinks right to your bones. A devilish hand slips along your bare stomach and around your hip to squeeze, before pulling you closer. A pink, velvet tongue presses against the juncture of your neck and shoulder, sliding up to your ear before he plants gentle, gentle kisses.

“How are we going to solve this problem?” He whispers, teeth nibbling at your earlobe.

“Mmm,” you hum, “Maybe we should talk when you aren’t so full. I’m a woman of class— I don’t eat leftovers.” Your sentence ends in a whisper as you lean up and get right next to his ear.

His chuckle is deep, vibrating through you. He takes a breath, his chest puffing up, straining his shirt and vest before he pushes it out slowly, “I still have two hands and a mouth.”

“I don’t know where those have been either.”

“Well then why don’t you give me a bath? That way you can be assured I’m clean.” He stands, extending his hand towards you, “Maybe I can work up a second appetite.”

Steve whisks you into the bathroom, only dropping your hand to start the bath. You lean against the long counter, crossing your legs as you watch him undress. He takes his time of course, flicking those eyes up at you every now and again as he sheds the rest of his Tom Ford suit, taking the time to fold it up and set it aside. Your eyes can’t help but drift, down that chest and hard stomach, over the smattering of coarse, dark blonde hair at his lower stomach, right to his thick, long cock.

“I usually make clients pay before letting them ogle me,” he winks, “You’re getting a freebie. Come.” He beckons again, curling his index finger towards you.

“Oh?” you purr, pushing away from the counter and sauntering to him, “Why am I so lucky to get such a perk?”

Steve inhales deep again as he slides his hands underneath your kimono at the shoulders, pushing it right off, “I like you.”

“You barely know me.”

He spins you around, fingers unhooking your bra before he crushes his chest to your back, “I have a feeling that’s going to change.” He whispers, pressing his cheek against yours as he stares at you through the mirror.

He pushes his hands over your hips, fingers curling around the strings of your thong, slipping it down your thighs. He bends to lift each leg, pulling the undergarment from you and tossing it atop his pile of clothes. A large hand encases yours and moves you to the edge of the tub, keeping a tight hold as you step into the hot water.

“My phone, please?” you ask sweetly as you settle down, resting your back against the porcelain.

Steve disappears momentarily only to return with your phone and another flute of champagne. He sits the items on the edge of the tub and slips into the opposite end, grabbing your feet and placing them against his chest. He lifts your right leg and starts pressing his thumbs into the bottom of your foot, rubbing firm circles, smiling slowly when you moan. Grabbing your phone, you thumb through your music before Prince fills the bathroom.

“I thought I was supposed to give you a bath?”

“We’ll get to that,” he says easily, lifting your toes to his lips, kissing them softly, “I want to hear this plan of yours.”

You pull your foot from his grasp and reach for your loofah and shower gel before pulling on his wrist to get him to move towards you. Steve slides between your legs as you separate them, wrapping them around his waist as he lays against your chest. You dip the loofah into the water, letting it soak it up before you squeeze it over his chest. A smile and a laugh bubble from you when you start to wash his chest as low groans rumble through his chest.

You push him up to sweep the soap over his shoulders and back, admiring the smooth canvas of tanned skin. He relaxes easy, muscles cooling and calming under your fingers, his breaths getting deep and long. The length of his body captivates you as you push the sudsy loofah over his bicep and down his arm, not able to reach his wrist without straining.

“You alright back there?”

“Shut up,” another giggle pushes through your lips, “You know, my legs are forty four inches from hip to toe, so that means you have eighty eight inches wrapped around you right now and you’re still longer than I am.” You kiss the tiny spot just underneath his ear, “Your mama fed you well.”

“She was a good woman, my mama. Hell of a cook.”

“Was?”

He sighs deeply as he runs his hands up and down your legs, “She died, a few years ago.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

He shrugs, “That’s the meaning of life, right? You live, you love, you lose. I was lucky to have been able to take care of her until the end, some people don’t get that.” He tips his head up to yours, his eyes searching your face, “But that’s enough about me. How was your day?”

“Long,” you smile, anchoring your left hand in the middle of his chest as you continue to push the loofah around his body, “I couldn’t close my deal, so it looks like I’ll be in Los Angeles indefinitely.”

“We’re not that bad, you’ll fit right in.”

“You’re not a Los Angelean,” you tease, poking him gently, “I can hear that Brooklyn in you, no matter how hard you try to hide it.”

His laughter fills the bathroom, making you smile wide. It’s a nice sound, his laugh. It’s also nice knowing you can pull such a genuine response from him— the slight distance he’s worked so hard to build over the years slowly starting to slip away.

“I miss New York sometimes. I haven’t been back since—” he cuts the words off, but you know what he was going to say. He clears his throat, visibly catching himself slipping and tenses, trying to regain his control, “I’m sure this news has something to do with you wanting to be my dinner and dessert?”

“Yes, so,” you start, clearing your throat as well, “If it isn’t obvious, I quite enjoyed my night with you, and I’m sure you’ve picked up on the fact that I hate to share.”

“Only child, huh?”

“Shush,” you slap at him, “I don’t want to have to wait my turn for you, and I’m much too active, if you catch my drift, to go days between having you.”

He nods slowly, “I’m with you.”

“I’ll have business dinners and such, actually I’m attending a polo match on Saturday and I um, well, I’d like you to be… mine… while I’m here. Be at my every beck and call.” You click your tongue, “You know, like an employee of sorts.”

You peer at the side of his face as he sucks his teeth, nodding slowly, hands still dragging along and squeezing your legs, “That’s an idea, isn’t it?” he turns his head towards you, “You’re a very attractive woman, you could have anybody you want, for free. Ms. Romanov to start.”

“She talks about me?” you gasp, giggling a little, biting your lip, “But I can’t flaunt her around the way I want to, we’re technically working together, imagine if HR gets a whiff. No, I’d like a professional, although if you don’t mind, we could invite Ms. Romanov over to play every now and again.”

“Whew,” Steve chuckles, pecking your lips quickly, “I like the sound of that. Well, if you’re talking indefinitely, it’s gonna cost ya.”

You nod, “Of course. We’re both business people, we can work this out.”

He pulls in another breath, blinking towards the opposite walls, “That sounds lovely, and I’m flattered but,”

“Steve,” you whine, “Come on, you’re not even thinking about it.”

“I have dates lined up already.”

“Cancel them.”

“I can’t do that,” you scoff, “I can’t! Once you head back to New York, I’ll be the one dealing with a horde of angry women— if they’ll even want to see me again!”

“Okay,” you cut him off, “I’ll let you finish out your week. How’s that? Then, starting Saturday, you’re mine until my deal is closed.”

“That could be a month, or more.”

“It could be a day,” you shrug, “Name your price, I’ll pay it either way.” He grows silent, “The uncertainty makes you the real winner here.”

You walk your fingers up and down his chest, nuzzling against his cheek and wet beard as he thinks it over, “Let’s do some math,” you say after a while, grabbing your phone, “You charge fifteen hundred a night, right?”

“Yeah, but you want twenty four hours a day, and you want to show me off like some boy-toy,” he smiles, wiggling his eyebrows, “Price goes up.”

“Say it.”

He knocks his head around a few times, “Twelve thousand a week.”

“Fifteen hundred times seven is ten thousand and change, and even so, that alludes to you having a date every night of the week— which I doubt. Try again.”

“Fine, nine.”

“Five thousand a week,” you counter, “And I’ll pop for dinner on nights I don’t have a business engagement.”

“Eight thousand and I won’t charge you for threesomes with Ms. Romanov, which, I can easily talk her into.”

You laugh, “That’s not fair, we’ll both be enjoying those threesomes with Natasha. Six thousand, threesomes included,” you wink playfully, “You can stay here while I’m at work, and you can use up my thousand dollars a day per diem. The hotel has a spa, a gym, a world renowned five star chef in the twenty four hour restaurant— you can book a masseuse everyday for god sakes.”

Steve sucks his teeth, “Seventy five hundred.”

“Sixty five hundred.”

He smiles, “Seven thousand. You pay upfront, every Monday, and no refunds— no matter when your deal closes.”

You grab your phone, flipping over to your cash app. His phone vibrates in his pant pocket as you turn the face towards him, the seventy five hundred dollar transaction still lighting up the screen.

“A tip?” he asks, raising his eyebrows at the extra money.

“For humoring me. We got a deal, Mr. Rogers?”

He stands, water falling off his body as he steps out and grabs one of the fluffy, white towels, “Let’s fuck on it.”

You smile wide.

“You know,” he starts, wrapping your shoulders with the towel as you stand, “I would have stayed for five.”

You wiggle your eyebrows, “I would have paid twelve.”

~~~

It’s been a little over a week since your deal with Steve was struck, and the two of you have fallen into quite a lovely little routine. You’ve already gotten used to falling asleep on his chest, his long arms wrapped around your middle. Waking up at random times in the night to find him rutting into you softly, his warm breath on the back of your neck, hot lips pressed against your shoulder, fingers digging into your hips.

The two of you get along well— having dinner together every night, laughing and talking aimlessly whether it’s down in the restaurant or curled up on the couch, you in Steve’s lap as a random show plays in the distance (not that you’re ever paying attention to it). He’s a charmer, becoming an instant hit with the businessmen and women at the polo match and business dinner you were invited to. He looks good on your arm, and you like having him there.

Waking up with Steve is also fun. You currently stand in the bathroom, brushing your teeth as CNN plays in the embedded TV in the long mirror. There’s a shift in the reflection of the bed, Steve rolling over and letting out a deep sigh as he drifts back to sleep. Blinking back towards yourself, you glance down at your phone, tapping it to illuminate the time. You’ve got a few minutes to spare.

You rinse your mouth quickly and pad back into the bedroom, pulling the white sheets away from his naked body. The mattress dips under your knees as you climb onto it and place your hands on his thighs, raking your painted fingernails down his flesh. You knead the muscles, squeezing gently as you massage each thigh, working your way up from his knees. Within minutes, he’s growing, cock twitching before towering up, the light from the bathroom helping cast its shadow over his stomach.

There’s a quick sound from him, a half grunt, half moan, and you can’t help but smile— you’ve learned he’s a light sleeper. You sink your warm mouth over the head of his cock, your tongue swishing and teasing his slit. He gasps, and it sends a quick shiver down your spine, your pussy constricting as you push down his length, taking him all in.

You only bob your head a few times before his hips start to join in, pushing up into your mouth gently. Soft little moans choke up in his throat. Breaths hitching before he squeaks, his body twitching with each pass of your tongue. Hums vibrate through his throat and chest as he licks his lips and sinks his teeth into his bottom lip— a deep red flushing through his fair skin.

Each tiny sound from him, long hisses, desperate pants, quick, sharp whines as you work him over, sends jolts through your own body, your pussy wet and achy, stomach tight. But you have an early Zoom meeting, and time is slipping away. You reach for his hands and place them on your head as you slow down, giving him a clear signal.

He slips one of his hands down your cheek, rubbing his thumb gently against your skin to get you to peek up at him. You nod quickly, and not a second goes by before he grabs a handful of your braids and fucks hard up into your awaiting mouth. You moan with him as he forces your head down with his hands, his hard, long cock slipping down your throat.

Tears slip out of the corners of your eyes and down your cheeks, spit and cum bubbling out of your mouth as he fucks your face. Steve leans up to watch you take him, his hips still grinding hard.

“Tha’s right, baby,” he slurs, pushing out heavy breaths, “You take my cock so good, baby. That’s s’good, sugar. That mouth is so fucking pretty around my cock.”

Your heart leaps in your chest at his praise, the stroking of your ego making your body clench. You keep your nails dug into his thighs as he fucks into your messy mouth, lips flushed red, swollen and slippery. Steve whines loud, his octave high, the sound bitten off and broken as he slams his head back on the pillow, his mouth falling open. His hips pulse as he nearly cries, your scalp burning as he grips your head and hair.

You fight the urge to touch yourself, wanting to keep the delicious ache with you throughout the day. Steve lifts his head to make eye contact with you again, his face strained and broken as he whimpers, “Fuck, I’m gonna co— ,” he groans, loud and drawn-out, “That mouth is perfect. Ugh, I’m gonna paint that pretty mouth with my cum, baby— ah!”

He freezes suddenly and then pushes his hips upward, pushing his rigid cock deep before he spills, your warm, rough, pink tongue helping to coax him. He slams his head back down on the pillow, chest and muscles tense hard as each pass of his orgasm grows stronger, his spurts long and hot.

When his hips stop thrusting, he softens into the mattress, his limbs damn near liquid. His eyes flutter as he drags in deep, ragged, audible breaths, each one shaky and wet. You clean him up with your tongue, bobbing your head again, gripping his hips as filthy little noises and sweet cries squeak out of his throat. His body jerking and jutting. Once you’re finished, you kiss his tummy and smile before pushing off the bed.

“Where you goin’?” he mumbles, reaching for you as move back into the bathroom, “Hey, come’re”

You spin around to wink at him before closing the door a little to finish getting ready for your day.

“That’s not fair,” he shouts, making you giggle, “Fuck.”

~~~

One Zoom meeting turns into two, turns into three and beyond. You jot down notes, shaking your head slightly in agreement as you grab your phone, calculating a few numbers before you recite them for the rest of the group. It’s kind of amazing how you all deal with millions of dollars like it’s absolutely nothing.

You’ve had your nose so stuck in your laptop and phone all morning, you haven’t had a chance to pay any attention to the tall blonde traipsing around the place, shooting you little looks and quick smiles as you work, in hopes to garner a glance. It hasn’t worked so far; until now that is, as he saunters out of the bedroom after his trip to the gym and a late shower, chest bare, grey sweats hanging low on his lips.

Water still beads on his shoulders, a few strays slipping down his pecs into the dark hair that covers his chest. You cut your eyes towards him and slide them with him as he moves into the dining area, watching as he bends over to pluck a bottle of water out of the mini fridge. He stands back tall, rolling his broad shoulders a bit before he tips his head and guzzles the cool liquid, Adam's apple bobbing.

“Hello? You still with us?”

You snap your eyes back towards your laptop, a smirking Natasha Romanov staring back at you, “Sorry, I think my, uh, connection got a little wonky,” you lie, sending your eyes quickly back towards the chuckling Steve, “What were you saying, Ms. Romanov?”

“Scott Lang, our other CEO is flying in next week from Chicago, he wants to set a meeting with you but was wondering if you could carve out sometime to call him beforehand. He just wants a run down of the numbers you’re proposing.”

“Sure, I’ll pencil him into my schedule later today, if that’s okay? Around three?”

Natasha taps on your phone, “Perfect, looks like he’s free. Mr. Prym also would like to see you and Mr. Parker again to go over the construction plans of the possible new building.”

“Okay,” you nod, turning your attention to your phone to text Peter, “I’ll get back to you whenever Peter shoots me his schedule. He’s kinda busy though, so it might not be until next week.”

“That’s alright.” she answers absentmindedly, “Clint? Do you have anything for her?”

“Nope, I’m good I think.” The short blonde says.

“Nick? Wanda?”

After a chorus of no’s, you all say your goodbyes before you end the call, returning to your notebook, forgetting all about the burly man stalking towards you. Your phone buzzes, and you grab it up, skimming over Peter’s text message before you respond quickly, setting up a quick call with him for the following day and asking him to share his calendar with you. A soft ding sounds from your computer and you’re immediately turning back towards it, bouncing slightly when a weight pushes into the couch next to you.

The taps of the keys on your keyboard are followed by the swoosh of your outbound email before you grab your pen and start scribbling again. A constantly buzzing phone, more taps, more swooshes, and your gentle, random hums are all sounds you’re used to; not so much your sudden roomie. He’s bored and slightly annoyed by your snubs all morning— also wanting a little payback for your shenanigans so early in the morning.

You haven’t even noticed that he’s now completely naked.

You lean up a little, squinting as you study the growth chart on your screen, your fingers playing with your bottom lip as your mind crunches the information. A gasp fills your chest as you’re lifted from your spot and settled right onto his lap. Before you can protest, he shimmies the short shorts covering your lower half down your thighs and over your knees, and pushes your white satin panties to the side.

Steve sweeps your box braids over your shoulder as the head of his cock pushes through your folds. You feel his eyes on the side of your face, that soft beard brushing against your jaw as he rocks his hips slowly, teasing your clit and opening with his dick. He grazes his fingers over your thighs before he cups your hot sex in his palm and uses his fingers to spread you open.

With a firm press, he slips inside of you, pushing until he bottoms out. He wiggles his hips, just so you can feel him moving inside of you before he grabs your laptop and places it back in your lap, “Don’t let me disturb you.”

You squirm on top of him, your hips rolling slightly as he starts to play with your clit, rubbing slow circles against your soft, wet skin. Your mind is blank as you stare at the computer screen, breath light and choppy, body tightening around his rigid cock. You want him to move, to thrust up into you real nice and slow while he thumbs and pulls at your nipple, breathing hot, hushed words into your ear. Trying to coax him, you wiggle again, pushing down onto him but he doesn’t relent— he just turns on the tv and settles back into the couch, throwing his arm over the back like you’re not even sitting on his dick right now.

He continues to rub your clit lazily, keeping his eyes on Sports Center as your body tenses every now and again, tiny, needy moans vibrating your vocal chords. You try to focus on the numbers and emails in front of you, but your mind is mush— a dull ache throbbing in the pit of your stomach, your teased clit starting to sting from his gentle pressure.

Natasha’s name flashes across your laptop, sending a sudden strike of fear through you, heart dropping to your feet, “Steve—”

“Answer it,” he says gently, “I’ll be quiet.”

“She’ll see you!” You hiss.

He just chuckles in return, “Not if you stay still, she won’t. Answer it.”

Your fingers tremble over the mouse pad, the arrow hovering over the accept button. Steve reaches around and taps the button before relaxing back into the couch, sinking lower into it as Natasha’s smiling face pops up on your screen.

“Hi,” she greets happily, her chin in her palm, a pair of red, thick rimmed glasses over her eyes, “Are you busy?”

“Um,” you start, clearing your throat as your voice quivers, “Not, um, not really. What’s, uh, what’s—” you grunt when Steve finally thrusts into you.

Natasha’s eyes squint as she tilts her head, “You okay?”

Smiling quickly, you nod, “Yeah, sorry. What’s up? Does Mr. Prym need something else from me?”

“Oh, no, this isn’t work related.” She laughs lightly, “We’ve missed each other in the office this past week, I was just wondering if you were doing okay, see how L.A. is treating you.”

Steve shifts underneath you, pushing his hips hard. You tense hard, muscles quivering around him as you dig your nails into his thigh, trying to muffle the squeak that rises in your throat.

“It’s great,” you strain— high pitched and shaky, “It’s um, I l-like it here.”

“Have you seen Steve lately?”

Your eyes widen when Steve snakes his free hand up to your chest, grabbing a handful of your left tit. You turn the laptop away from you quickly as Steve leans up, resting his chin on your shoulder, another deep rumble of laughter falling from his lips.

He centers the screen on the two of you again, kissing your shoulder as Natasha feins shock, “She’s seen quite a bit of me lately.”

Embarrassment flushes through you— heat rising in your cheeks, but Steve rolls his hips slowly and jossles you on his lap and you can’t help but sound, a wet little whimper as he thumbs your nipple underneath your shirt, “S-Steve.”

“It’s okay honey,” he whispers, kissing your jaw, his eyes cutting back towards the laptop as Natasha leans back in her chair, teeth dug into her bottom lip as a pretty pink blush blooms across her cheeks, “Little Natasha has a voyeur kink,” he pushes his mouth right next to your ear, his octave dropping, “She loves watching me fuck pretty girls like you,” he lifts your top up, exposing your see-through bra as he turns his attention back to the screen, “Don’t you, baby?”

“Are you fucking her right now?” Natasha breathes, her voice thick and deep, “I wanna see.”

Steve sets the laptop on the glass table in front of you, pushing it back until your lower halves are exposed— his cock rooted deep in your cunt. You hear Natasha groan, watch as she starts to drag the pads of her fingers across her chest as she sways gently back and forth in her swivel chair.

“Does she feel good, Steve?” She asks.

“Oh,” Steve purrs, lifting your bra slowly so your tits fall out one by one, bouncing softly, “She is so tight, Nat. So warm. You’d fall in love with this pussy.”

You fall back against his chest, turning your head slightly to nuzzle into the side of his face as he gropes your tits in his massive hands, squeezing hard as he pinches your nipples between his index fingers and thumbs. Languid thrusts start to push you up and down, the fingers on your pussy spreading you open for Natasha as she stands, wiggling her hips to hike her skirt up.

She sits back in her chair and lifts her left leg, resting her foot against the edge of her desk. Her thin fingers push through her slick, wet folds as she watches Steve fuck you slow, sucking her bottom lip into her mouth. You open your eyes just enough to watch her unbutton her blouse, slipping her hand in to pull her left breast out, exposing her pierced, pink nipple.

“Oh, fuck,” you groan quick, before hissing as Steve pushes in and out, humming soft as he starts to let it go to his head, “You’ve been hiding those from me.”

“You can see them in person soon,” she purrs, her head falling back on the chair as she pushes two fingers into her cunt, “I can’t wait to feel your tongue on my tits.”

You tense at her words, Steve cursing as your muscles squeeze around him. He bites down on your shoulder as he starts to fuck into you faster. He rolls your nipples in his fingers as the sound of your skin slapping against his gets louder— sharper. Natasha blinks slowly through hooded eyes, her sweet mouth falling open as her hips buck, one hand slapping at her reddened clit and puffy, slick folds, the other pumping in her slit.

A shudder races up your spine— hips jerk unexpectedly, digging down into Steve’s, “Sugar’s getting close, Nat,” he breathes, sliding his hand back to your clit, “God, I wish you could feel how tight she’s squeezing me. Hear how wet she is?”

You should be embarrassed; how spread open you are, the wet, filthy squeaks and squishes of your cunt as he ruts into you. But watching Natasha as she fucks herself to you, hearing her mewl and curse, her fair, smooth skin blushing red while she loses herself. It’s all obscene. Sleazy; but that’s why you like it.

“Oh, make her come, Steve,” Natasha groans, her tongue slipping out to lick at her nipple, “I want to see that pussy quiver.”

Steve wraps his arm around your middle, holding you tight, breathing into your ear as his hips go into overdrive. He fucks into you fast and hard, bouncing you on his lap. He shoves his fingers into your mouth, hissing and groaning as you suck them. The sweet whimpers and whines of Natasha make you shiver, the sight of her hips thrashing and the sun glinting off of the diamond studded bar nipple rings accenting her perfect tits, send you right over the edge.

You throw your head back as your orgasm blooms, spreading through your veins like fire. You whail as you slam your eyes shut, Steve dropping his wet fingers to slap your cunt, teasing your clit as it jumps with contractions.

“Oh, God, yes,” Natasha pants, her fingers rubbing quick, hard circles against her clit, hips pulsing, “Yeah, I’m gonna come. I’m gonna... come, baby— you’re so fucking perfect, sweet girl.”

“You are perfect, honey,” Steve moans into your ear as wave after wave of your orgasm washes over you, “That tight pussy feels so good around me. So sweet— that’s why I call you honey.” He wraps his fingers around your neck, “You want me to come in her, Nat? Huh? You wanna see my hot cum spilling out of her?”

“Yes!” She cries, hunched over as she thrashes her hand back and forth, her mouth hanging, “Yes, Steve.”

As if on cue, he grunts deep, his cock jumping as he starts to spurt. He keeps a tight grip around your neck as he fucks hard with each spit, the hot ribbons coating your slick muscles. He pulls out of you unceremoniously, cantering your hips to give Natasha the full view of his silk dribbling out of you, your spasming, tight cunt pushing it out.

Natasha comes hard, her moans growing louder and higher as the coil finally snaps. Her tits tremble with the aftershocks, her hips jutting upward randomly as she creams. Her fingers slow as her eyes close, her head tilts back and resting against the back of her swivel chair as she licks her lips. Deep, smooth breathes swelling her chest as her hips come to rest.

Steve kisses you deep— tongue pushing into your wet warmth to massage the roof of your mouth. He sucks on your top lip, smacks on you loud as he palms your thighs before kneading gently. Smiling against his lips, you let your body go limp; melt right into his burly chest and stomach, his cock resting against your balmy, used, sticky cunt.

“Goodness, me,” Natasha purrs, a sated, soft smile on her lips, “That was sweet. We really need to get together now.” She laughs.

You giggle, pushing your fingers into Steve’s hair, “Steve let me work threesomes into his base price, so you’re welcome any time, babe.”

“Oh, he did, did he? That’s not fair Steven Grant, you nickel and dime the shit out of me.”

Steve shrugs, “What can I say, she’s a better business woman than you.”

“I can see that. I hate to come and run, but I need to freshen up. I have a meeting with Hank in a half hour. Maybe we can all have dinner Friday night?”

“I’ll make reservations. The restaurant in the hotel is fabulous.”

She winks, her lips curled in a smile, “Text me.”

The connection ends and you fall back into Steve’s chest, brushing your cheek against his, “Now that your debauchery has ended, can I get back to work now?” you laugh.

“Nope,” he answers quickly, slapping your laptop shut and lifting you with him as he stands, “It’s lunch time.”

“Steve,” you laugh, wrapping your arms around his neck as he carries you back into the bedroom, “I have so much to do. I’m waiting for the architect to call me back, I have a presentation I have to put together—”

“Numbers to crunch, businesses to buy, blah, blah, blah,” he drops you onto the mattress and grabs the menu from the nightstand before plopping down next to you, “They got sushi today, yummy.”

Work becomes an afterthought. You and Steve lay in your nakedness, eating slowly as you stare at each other, rogue fingers reaching out and sliding along hips and arms and tummies. Lingering blue eyes skip along your face and body, his deep laugh rattling every bone, every muscle, every vein you possess. He opens up a little more, talking aimlessly about he and Natasha’s friendship, how they met through his friend, and fellow escort Bucky Barnes.

“Bucky,” you lay on your back, leg bent at the knee as it sways back and forth slowly, Steve curled around you, “Even his name is kinky.”

He nuzzles into your neck, exhaling deep as he rests his eyes. His long arm is slung over your chest, legs tangled with yours, “He’s a good guy. I might let you meet him one day.”

“Might?”

“I don’t want him stealing you away from me.”

The words hang over you like a cloud. You blink slowly up at the ceiling as they, the words, swirl around you, filling your chest and head. Maybe you’re thinking too much into it, putting too much weight on them. He probably says this to all of his clients while in a post sex haze. You’re being silly, you don’t even know this man… but you want to.

That scares you.

After only a week, you don’t even recognize yourself anymore. What started out as just needing some company every now and again, has turned into looking forward to seeing him after work. Not being able to wait until you're across a dinner table from him, being squeezed against his body while in the tub, not wanting to pry yourself out of his arms in the morning. There was a time where you thought nothing of work— buying, selling, making money, climbing the corporate ladder— you ate and breathed your work.

Now?

All you want to do is eat sushi and nap the days away, with Steven Grant Rogers wrapped around you like a blanket.

~~~

Steve glances over his shoulder at your sleeping body as he sits on the edge of the bed. He stands slowly, running his hand through his hair as he moves towards the double doors and out onto the balcony. Night is falling over L.A., the sky dark as the moon and stars start to shine through. He leans over the concrete columns as he thumbs through his phone, casting his eyes out over the streets as he taps on a name.

“Steve,” a deep voice says, “Shit, I thought you died, man. Where have you been?”

“Sorry Buck, I’ve been with a client all week.”

“All week? Wow, big spender.”

“She’s from New York, in town on business.”

“That sounds fuckin’ awesome. Where are you?”

“The Waldorf Astoria, Presidential suite.” Steve turns, tilting his head as he watches you sleep.

“Oh, shit! You lucky bastard!”

Steve continues to stare at you, blinking slowly as you roll over onto your side, “You know, she hasn’t been out on the balcony once since she’s been here,” He says absentmindedly, nibbling on his bottom lip, “She’s afraid of heights.”

“O-kay?” Bucky chuckles as he draws out the word, slightly confused, “Why do you sound so sad? What’s going on?”

“I’m breaking rule number one.” Steve answers softly, dropping his head.

“Steve,” Bucky warns, his octave dropping.

“I don’t want her to go.” Steve answers softly, “I’m— fuck, I think I’m falling for her, Buck.”

~~~

Your phone vibrates softly against the couch, illuminating in the darkness as a text from Natasha slides in.

Good news! Hank’s ready to sign the deal first thing tomorrow morning!

[mbti-enemies]

thoughts on intj x intp?

ps. your blog is awesome 👀💕

The best thing would be how they can both be themselves- there's no need for fakeness here, nothing that's not real. nights at home together in sweatpants can be the best nights- both side by side in bed, reading, and you love them even more

intp would bring the softness a lot, and when they're tired its unbounded. they always reach out, hand encapsulated in the long sleeve of an oversized hoodie, and intj can't ever help but take it, melting at the warmth of sleepy intp

But, let's get it straight- that the burning powers of both intj and intp would be epic? they'd be so god damn in love and still the insults would flow so easy- (intj: this is so stupid intp: *immediately, without missing a beat* you're so stupid) heck, it'd be better after they started dating, each saying they have terrible taste in people and always end up dating idiots

This ease is present in conversation. Dialogue flits back and forth at seemingly unintelligible speeds, they catch the other's thought and throw another one back so quick that if you blink you miss- travelling at the speed of light rather than sound. it's the Ne meeting Ni- and nothing has ever been quite as satisfying

intp's Ne let's intj expand. they bring new ideas from the furtherst reaches of the universe, and it seems to expand intj's world. impromptu movie nights, car rides- crazy theoretical ideas about life itself; the expansion is limitless

intj brings intp back in. intj takes ideas and dives into it, Ni diving endlessly into the depths. that focus, that mind like the sharpest of blades- intp sees it so clearly sometimes and is entranced- and thinks the world must be intj's oyster with such a mind

their thinking styles fit together perfectly- it feels like they could take on the world. there could never be a better duo than intp and intj.... if they would actually finally just get out of their house and commit to that grand theft they have a l l planned o u t

-

intj edits:

- also lets just appreciate how these guy would totally be that nerdy power duo who would end up going down a wikipedia rabbithole at 3am and would trying to make a homemade moltov cocktail or smth at 6am, cause for intp it isnt a question of why its a question of why not (and intj totally loves them for that) *hwk has been shoved aside and accidentally set on fire *

- intp sending cursed memes on the group chat at cursed hours and intj j being like why do i still tolerate you

- watching anime and playing video games all day cause time is an illusion , the outside world requires to much socialising , and id rather spend all day with you

-intj looking up to see intp staring and them w a lil crazy grin and intj j sighs and thinks 'here we go again' but can help smiling a lil cause intp j had an iDeA which intj will find themselves roped into (no regrets)

- being that dysfunctional functional couple who can never complete each other sentences but can somehow understand each other without acc having to say a word

intj: we always finish each others

intp: sandwiches

intj: *sighing* you're hungry arent you

intp: i may or may not have forgotten to eat anything since yesterday

(TY BTW <3 lowkey unsure what your type is but gonna guess intp out of the two because intj is e v e n more unlikely to put hearts)

Honestly, as you no doubt can tell, this ask took a little thought but then I realised- wait! there are so goddamn many intpxintj couples all around, esp on tumblr, there's gotta be some really damn good stuff... and there is ><

beginning to also draw slight parallels to the way I (infj) love my infps- the way it all just feels so perfectly fitting and great, although more Feelings than intj/intp)

here's a little reddit link that i've looked thorugh a little that's absolute intp x intj gold https://www.reddit.com/r/intj/comments/k8ow9s/intj_intp_relationship/

[angelguk]

if youre still thinking angst for jock jk: much like real life jungkook, jock jk i feel like wants to be good — at everything. and he really is great at everything! so when he isnt great, he takes it very personally and i wouldnt be surprised if this spills into his relationship. wanting to do things “perfectly” in their relationship but forgetting that jock jk! oc should be involved in the decision making of what is “perfect”

alternatively: olivia rodrigo deja vu but jungkook is olivia thinking about oc and namjoon

this is very much a valid angst prompt ur brain is amazing anon im giving u a kiss rn......... ummm lemme write sumn small for dis :3

featuring: oc being oblivious, jeongguk just wanting to be the best boypwen, namjoon being observant and unspoken insecurities

Jeongguk doesn't usually shrink into himself like this. He abhors it, knows it's not him at all. And yet, he can't help his behaviour, knee bouncing harshly against the bricked pavements as he waits for you to leave your chemistry lab. There's a dainty silver bracelet sitting in his pocket, his head resting in hands as the autumn sun beats down on his back. You don't know it yet but he's got a pretty date planned: a late lunch at your favourite restaurant, an evening walk in the park at the centre of town, maybe some arcade games or a movie if you feel like it, and then a drive down to the hillside where you can watch the sun slip beyond the horizon and Jeongguk can gift you the bracelet and the cute bunny teddy he picked out last night.

It's not for any reason in particular, Jeongguk just wants you to know how much he cares (loves) you. Adoration is what drives his actions, his head springing up when the doors finally swing open and your fellow students spill forth into the afternoon breeze.

You're always one of the last people to leave because you liked buttering up your professors with casual conversations and sweet compliments, so Jeongguk isn't too bothered when everyone disperses and you're still not visible. It's not like you knew he was here away – he did tell you he was stuck in practise all afternoon.

When you do appear, the tiny welcoming smile that was sitting on his lips plummets to the floor.

You're gazing up at a familiar face, eyes sparkling as the sun hits them, your features bright and eager. His eyes eventually shift to the person ambling beside you, taking his towering stature and confident stride, a sickening feeling spreading through his system when he recognises who it is.

Kim Namjoon.

Of all sights to see, Jeongguk would rather have his eyes plucked out by birds that see you around Namjoon again. Especially after what he said to him.

You're giggling, completely unaware of the violent twisting of Jeongguk's heart in his ribs and the words he'd planned to say dissolving on his tongue. You don't even notice him at first, Namjoon's eyes are the ones that stray away, idling over the campus scenery until the settle on Jeongguk.

He wants to smash something, fingernails digging into his palm as his fist curls. Namjoon just grins, waving him down like they're old friends. "Jeongguk!"

You follow then, surprise bleeding over your pretty face. Jeongguk doesn't know why it hurts.

"Gukkie?" A question. He notes how you lean into Namjoon as you draw close, like he's your boyfriend.

"Hey." It's said so quietly that Jeongguk considers smacking himself in the face. A tight cough follows the meek word, clearing his throat from the heaviness that plagues it. "How was class?"

"Good," you return, still confused. "I thought you had practise?"

"Coach let us out early," he lies, smiling hard so you don't see through it.You make a non-committal noise, vaguely appeasing the turmoil in his head. "Namjoon," he adds, finally acknowledging the asshole. "Didn't expect to see you here."

"Ah," he sighs, a sheepish grin spreading across his lips. "I got an internship here; Professor Song was kind enough to give me an assistant position. I'm considering applying for master's here too."

"Oh," he doesn't even try to mask his irritation. "That's nice."

But you don't hear it, nodding like an enamoured puppy. "Right? It'll be nice having you around again!"

"It feels good to be here," Namjoon returns. "Don't know why I didn’t apply to this university, to be honest."

Jeongguk knows. It was because this was your dream university and Namjoon didn't want to do his undergraduate with you trailing around like a lingering stench, especially right after your break-up. But now, apparently, he's totally fine with it.

"Hmm, yeah. It's a great university," Jeongguk states, disinterested. He turns to you with a tired smile. "I actually came to pick you up for lunch, you haven't eaten yet have you?"

"I actually did before class," you say, lips forming an apologetic pout. "Can we reschedule for dinner? I wanna show Namjoon around first."

Oh. The weight of his heart sinks him into the ground, earth eagerly swallowing him up as his head splits. So Namjoon gets first priority. Kim Namjoon, over him. Over your boyfriend.

"Yeah, yeah," Jeongguk shrugs. "That's fine. We can reschedule. Text me when you're done, okay?"

He doesn't miss the way Namjoon's gaze lingers on him as he turns away, waving you a quick goodbye. You didn't even give him a hug, stationed beside Namjoon like you watched to attach his limbs to yours. It's unsettling, how swift you loyalty glides away from Jeongguk. He hates how annoyed it makes him because he knows you don't do it purposely. But still, shouldn't he come first?

It's that thought that sends him spiralling, sitting alone in the heat of his car as the bracelet in his pocket grows heavy. Where you like this with Namjoon? Did you put him first? He thinks you did – you cancelled on him so many times in the course of that relationship. Did Namjoon take you to similar places? Did the two of you have moments you never shared with him? That one hurts the most, because even to this day Jeongguk has never shared the titbit of information Namjoon granted him. What did Namjoon give you that you never see in Jeongguk? Even with the title of 'together' hanging over your heads he doesn't feel secure enough – good enough for you. It's what leaves him on edge, overthinking each moment and word and touch shared between the two of you. Because it took you both so long to get here, what did you see in those other guys that you never saw in Jeongguk at first? He longs to be only one you remember, wipe away any lasting memory of any of the others, until it was only him.

But that feels impossible, further sparked in moments like this when you pick them over him. He'll always be the second option, the sideline safety. But never the first choice.

[hahahax30]

Honestly, reading Lili Elbe's *actual* memoir, I have come to the conclusion that the Danish girl's author is more fucked up than I had thought.

He treats Lili's sporadic nosebleeds as a fantastic aspect of the story, as if her intersex condition had granted her a mini uterus in her nostrils, when in reality it was most likely a result of the anxiety/stress her dysphoria brought in (literally a two-minute search will tell you you can bleed from stress and anxiety), because they were only present when 'Einer' came forth, never when she was embodying Lili; with Lili everything was happiness and tranquility. And he doesn't even *mention* the 'mysterious fits of depression [...] and violent pains [...] disconcerting fits of sobbing' (a direct quote) that came with those nosebleeds, and which he would have somewhat explained them when, physically, Lili was fine. Instead he just implies the nosebleeds are there because she has rudimentary ovaries, and that's low-key infuriating.

Not to say that he completely sexualised Lili's childhood? The only actual thing she did as a child was get into fights to proof she could be 'like the other boys' and play with her sister's dolls when no one but her sister was looking. She didn't have a friend whose penis she gawked at 24/7 nor who tried to assault her at like 11.

Just, please, I wish I could get the Danish girl out of the market and erase it from existence. Or at least have a preface written by one of the numerous trans women (which I'm not lol, but I'll leave one under the cut) who've rightfully complained about how horrible the book is, because I know the Danish girl gets randomly recommended to people who have had no contact with trans people in their lives in order to 'understand' trans women, and that's fucked up.

By Gwen Sund:

I hate this book on so many levels. I will say one good thing. It is a very well written book. The prose is lovely and the author does a good job with descriptions. His handling of the characters and parts of the plot though are pretty offensive. I will not go too far into the history and how inaccurate this book is because as the author mentions in his afterwards Lili Elbe is the only character based off of a real person. Everyone else is completely made up. It's okay that the story isnt' true to life, but that opens up an entirely different terrible can of worms that I'll get into. The order of events is different, how things turn out is different. This is "Base on a Real Event" in the same way Exorcist 2: Bazuzoo Boogalu is based on a real event. There will be some spoilers, so if that bugs you stop reading here. Just know I can't recommend this book in any way. I barely recommend the movie, but at least that doesn't have as many issues.

My biggest problem with this book is the handling of Lili. This author made up pretty much the entire story, so even if there might be historical context for some of the details he still chose to describe Lili the way that he did. I am a trans woman and I found his handling of her to be one of the most offensive that I have ever read. He treats her being trans as multiple personality disorder. Since he chose and created so much of the story I'm not going to give historical leeway on this. He chose to do that. Trans people do not experience their identities that way. We are the same person before and after transition. It's not like a demon possession story where over the story the demon slowly starts taking over. It would have been so much more powerful to have Lily come to terms with herself and her past. Have her find a way to love herself in her own skin. Something more true to the trans experience. This story is nearly entirely fiction, so there's no reason why the story couldn't be told in a more positive supportive manner.

And that point ties into another thing. This book won the Lambda Literary Award for Transgender Fiction. For one the author is cisgender so why didn't the award go to a trans author. They existed. Susan Striker, Jennifer Finney Boylan, Kate Bornstein, and Leslie Feinberg were all actively writing in the year 2000. And that's just a few trans authors at the time. There were plenty more. On top of that the book is very bad at showing the trans experience. It is a slap in the face. I can't even say 2000 was a different time and Lambda Literary has moved on from that because after the Danish Girl movie came out they worked with this author again to help him set up a trans charity. They support this story. They still support it. That sucks. I hate it.

One more thing with the handling of Lili is that she has no agency in this story. People keep making decisions for her, they move her around, they treat her like a child, and they make medical decisions for her. The only decision she makes in this book is the one that killed the real life Lili. Some how Greta is treated like she's supposed to be this super supportive partner, but she just controls Lili to death. There's a part in the book where Greta starts telling Einar to become Lili constantly. Not to be supportive but because Greta has become famous for painting Lili and she constantly wants Lili to model for more paintings. What in the world is supportive about that? Greta literally uses Lili for personal financial gain to the detriment of Lili's mental and physical health. Multiple times Lili asks to stop and is told to stay put.

While we're on the topic of Greta let's just talk about how weird that character is. She is very loosely based on Lili's real life partner Gerda. She was a famous painter that was part of the Art Nouveau movement. She is an important painter in history and for some reason she is turned into this bland concerned straight lady. She is so much more than that and I suggest anyone reading this maybe look up some information about her. The end of her life is sad as hell, but the real life Gerda is so much more interesting that Greta.

Speaking of endings I don't understand why the author changed Greta's true life story so much that she gets to live happy and rich while Lili still ends up sad, lonely, and probably dead from having a uterus transplanted into her. Why the hell did he go out of his way to give so many of the cis characters happy lives only to keep the trans character's sad ending? Why? That's awful. That isn't support or visibility. That is voyeurism. "Look at the old school trans woman that thought she could give birth and died. Oh isn't that weird?" Screw that. If everyone else gets happy endings then cut the last chapter, and have Lili exit the story with the guy that asked her to marry him. Have them go off to New York and live to be happy. This is fiction, give fiction Lili the chance to be who real life Lili didn't get the chance to be.

I hate this book. I hate how many awards it has gotten. I hate that so many cisgendered people have made money on this story. I hate it. I don't necessarily hate the author, I just hate this story. Why did I make myself read the entire thing?!

[blxetsi]

Hello! I love your blog and writing so much! May I please request modern au dating hcs for Mikasa?

tysm for requesting ilysm 🙈💥

i also went a bit overboard i hope thats okay !!

modern mikasa ackerman dating headcanons

lowercase intended !

college!mikasa ackerman x gn!reader

- eren finds out abt her crush on you. idc idc

- mf may be dense sometimes but he isnt stupid, he KNOWS what mikasa acts like when shes in the presence of her crush,, he would know bc he was one ;)

- anyways, maybe your like, going up to ask mikasa for her notes from last class, or just chatting with them to be friendly

- either way mikasa goes from 😳 to 😐 real quick

- shes very quiet which youre used to so you dont really think too long abt her lack of communication. its literally just you and eren talking at this point

- after you leave to,,, idk sit under a tree ?? erens immediately turning to mikasa being like "okay tell me everything"

- she denies the crush on u 😔💔

- but then eren tells armin.

- and eren has a big mouth so who knows who else he told ??

- so finally, after beating up eren for spilling the beans she tells her two closest friends EVERYTHING

- like from how nice your hair smells to how pretty she finds your eyes. how she loves your sense of style. she just likes everything about you

- erens like "i mean yeah theyre rlly cute but like,,, what do you like about them that isnt physical 😐"

- mikasa starts blushing HARD. and slowly goes to her bedroom in their shared apartment, before slinking back out holding a crinkly folded piece of paper.

- its something you wrote and it says "thanks for studying with me mikasa !! let me treat you to boba as a thanks. youre so sweet, ill see you next class babie"

- erens looking at the note like 😐 mf is this it ??

- armins flipping it back and forth and reading it over and over again

- mikasa just says "theyre kind to everyone. and theyre funny. i just like them a lot."

- erens like 🙄 k but armins all for it

- then they start coming up with a plan to get you to like mikasa back (even though mikasa doesnt want that)

- erens an asshole and says "mikasa i love you and you will always be my number one, HOWEVER. they might just see you as a friend, OR WORSE. an aquaintance. we gotta make u so cool that youre irresistable"

- now mikasa is a bit worried

- HOWEVER. what none of those idiots know is that YOU have had a fat crush on mikasa since you asked her for a pencil at the beginning of the semester 😍 she stared at u like 😐✏️ and u were like "omg thanks 😊" w a little blush on ur cheeks bc mikasa's hot

- i mean,, if you didnt like mikasa WHY would you have invited her out for boba ?? one, who doesnt like boba ?? and two,, doesnt that count as a date ? u didnt know but u just wanted to like ✨subtly✨ shoot your shot

- but that was almost a month ago and she hasnt said yes. so you assume she didnt wanna go

- a few days go by after mikasa tells her friends all about her crush. and like,,, they do nothing ?? what happened to the big plan of making mikasa seem like the coolest person around ?

- it turns out eren doesnt know enough about you to know what you like. and ur dumbass friends aint help either.

- so one day he finds you and mikasa coming out of your shared class, your talking about something and mikasa is just nodding with a blush on her cheeks.

- he runs up to both of you before saying "hey just to let you know mikasa has a big crush on you. and she'd love to go get boba with you 😁👍"

- mikasa gets so red in the face and starts smacking him with her binder. you couldnt stop it even if you tried

- after literally YELLING at them for their attention you just turn to mikasa like "please get boba with me 🥺" and she cant resist

- and then the rest is history 😌✨

- after the boba date you learned so much about her and vice versa. you guys were like,, closer than ever. always going to her apartment or her coming to your dorm

- you guys would have sleepovers very frequently. nothing ever happens but you two like being so close with each other

- and you guys do a lot together when you arent busy with school or work or friends

- mikasa takes you to cool museums and art galleries

- you take her to cool shops downtown and parks

- its so fun

- but you cant help but wonder if youre dating or not ?? like do you have the right to call mikasa your gf ?? you guys havent kissed on the lips but she always kisses your head when you cuddle, and you always take each other out on dates

- on the day you finally bring it up during one of your sleepovers. shes on her back and youre almost on top of her with your arms around her shoulders and your face smushed into her chest

- u just kinda mumble "are you my girlfriend ?"

- and its SILENT.

- u start freaking out bc "omg she doesnt like me 😁👍 im gonna cry"

- until she just quietly says. "yes."

- OFNWIDNKWSMWKKWKALSMQLSME

- ur gonna marry this girl 😐

- her love language ?? definitely acts of service. idc idc.

- when u sleep over shes making you tea without u asking. (u said u liked lavender tea ONCE and this bith got a whole container 😭😭)

- when you have movie nights with her, eren, and armin she always chooses a movie you like ("no we arent watching the florida project again armin cried last time" "yeah but y/n loves it so" "this feels like oppression mikasa" "okay and ?")

- is also very protective. she hears mfs in the halls talking shit about you ?? shes shutting them up with her glare

- also u know how isayama made her goth in his like, highschool thingy ?? yeah 😍

- #gothmikasasupremacy

- she makes her eyeliner and shadow messy on purpose.

- you love just laying her down on her bed and straddling her, just leaning over and doing her makeup for her (jules and anna tease 🙈✨)

- sometimes you guys go to thrift stores and pick out outfits for each other

- one time you found this GORGEOUS floral sundress and she physically shivered from the thought of wearing

- tried it on and looked SO BEAUTIFUL, but it wasnt her style 😐

- also doesnt tell her parents about you ?? not bc shes embarassed or anything but just because she knows her dad is gonna be like "who are they ? what are they like ? where do they live ? whats their major ? where are they from ? whats their zodiac sign ?"

- he doesnt do it to play the "overprotective dad" role but because hes genuinely curious and excited

- she brings you home for the first time and youre so surprised because this tall blond man is her FATHER ?? she looks so much like her mom though its not even funny

- for dinner her mom and dad made traditional japanese food 😭😭 it was so good omfg

- also this has nothing to do with dating headcanons but mikasa used to live off of lunchables as a kid. was literally addicted to the rubber like ham 😍

- her mom is so sweet, and she shows you all of the stuff she's embroidered all these years

- her dad is so extroverted, he loves telling dad jokes. you find them HILARIOUS but mikasa sits there like 😐👍

- he DEMANDS you guys play scrabble. he says it help him figure out who you are as a person. now youre scared 😁👍

- anyways

- you love giving her little kisses on her lips because one, you get some of her moisturizing lip gloss on your lips and two, she blushes SO HARD

- one time you two were on a date and you ran into her ex. whos literally so scary

- her name is annie and shes blonde and muscular and rlly hot but has that same blank stare as mikasa

- you feel kinda weird bc how did she go from being with ANNIE to you ??

- you ask her abt it and shes like "oh yeah we dated in our last year of high school. im much happier with you" and now youre feeling all giggly and happy bc mikasa doesnt lie 😭😭

- u roll around on her bed with your cheeks squished together to hide your blush bc you feel so good that she said that

- she just rolls her eyes before getting on top of you and taking your hands away from your face

- she gives u kisses all over before putting the final one on your lips. its such a soft and sweet moment with just the two of you, you cant help but confirm what youve already thought:

youre gonna marry her one day.

a/n

i REAAALLLLYYYY enjoyed making this oml. i hope u all enjoyed this !! remember: requests r open for anything aot OR u can give me ideas for other fandoms to write for

kk goodbye friends 🤩🤩🤩