#Types of cash flow | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cod-indulgences · 5 months ago

Note

may i suggest 141 going out to and meet stripper!reader

Poly!141 x female!reader, stripping, gangbang, dubcon, fingering, oral, spit roasting, deep throating, breathplay, anal, comeplay, noncon drugging, kidnapping yes these got darker out of nowhere

Anon I hope you like this because something in it ate me alive and I blacked out into 4.5k of smut and a hard left into fucked up land

now posted on AO3!

Now this was a good night to be working.

Everyone had picked good music, the drinks and cash were flowing, and you had managed to land four of the biggest guys in the place all to yourself.

Normally you didn't like the military types- they spent a lot but also expected extra just for their "service", as if sitting around a base and driving jeeps made them special. These guys, though, were something else- scarred, bulging muscles that looked like they came from work, not the gym. They introduced themselves with what sounded like code names, and you knew those were legit because the only one that was sort of impressive was Ghost, and he was the quietest of the bunch, sitting in the corner of the booth. Their captain, Price, had an air of authority that made you purr daddy at him while thanking him for a tip, he blushed, fucking cute, which got a laugh from Ghost, also fucking cute.

And they definitely knew how to make a girl feel appreciated.

Money slid down the strap of your shoes and tucked into your bra, Soap and Gaz grinning and bringing bringing folded bills up to you in their teeth, so you can tug it free with your tits or curl your tongue around it like a kiss. When you sat on Price's lap and stole his hat for yourself, offering to return it if he bought you a drink, the man's hand had come up like he was about to grip your thigh and then deliberately pulled away, which holy fuck, was he actually obeying the no touching rule?? He didn't even try for a pinch or pretend he didn't notice??

You signaled the bouncer a peace sign, and held Price's gaze as you slowly dragged his fingers up the outside of your thigh, letting him feel your skin all the way to the narrow strap of your thong panties, before letting him go. The other three all oohed at him, teasing him for being the first one to get a hand on you, while he blushed again under his mustache.

This was dangerous, because now you were starting to like them.

The men kept you busy, anytime you weren't on stage being beckoned back to them, money flowing from their hands to yours, drinks bought, your fingers tugging belt loops, plucking their shirt sleeves, climbing into their laps and teasing your weight along their cocks. You could touch them, and kept the bouncer in eyesight, but they all kept their hands to themselves unless you gave permission.

Gaz took a shot out of your cleavage with Soap holding your bare tits from behind, his hands big and warm, and you laughed as Gaz turned bright red when he choked on the drink.

Soaps thumbs slid over your nipples as he let you go, and oh fuck, there's that little clench that means you need a break. Because you like stripping, you like the fast cash and attention, but the dark dirty secret was, it turned you fucking on.

Bouncing your ass on stage, spinning on the pole with your thighs open and only a tiny little thong to cover your pussy. Tits squeezed and groped under your own hands just for men to line up for a taste, a little touch, before you're away and leaving them wanting. All the validation you could need combined with the sheer physical pleasure of dancing, enjoying your body, feeling your muscles warm and your skin flush under the strobe lights.

Except you don't get a break, because Gaz is coming back with two shots and hopeful eyes, wanting a second chance, and Soap already has your tits squeezed up against the cold glass, and Gaz is licking into your cleavage and dipping his tongue to curl into the glass, oh shit.

You whimper as Soap's hands tighten, and he grinds against your ass. You flash another peace sign, and behind Gaz, Price smirks, Ghost leaning in to say something in his ear.

Gaz holds the second shot to your lips and you open obediently, swallowing the liquor as Soap wrapped his arms around your waist, kissing your neck.

"Give 'em that sign, love, you know you're fine," Soap says, and you flash another peace sign at the bouncer, watching him nod and turn to check the other dancers. Gaz tugs you out of his arms and over to their table, and you slide in and climb into Ghost's lap, feeling a little lightheaded. The big man pulls you to sit properly against him, back to chest, and spreads his knees so that your legs part around him. Price stares at the little scrap of fabric over your pussy, and you actually feel a little gush of slick when he licks his lips.

"Give us a dance, love?" Ghost says into your ear, and when you've barely squeaked out a yes before he's fucking lifting you up, carrying you back toward the sectioned off booths for private shows. You gape when Price puts a thick wad of cash into your hand- fucking hell- and you realize that all four men are following Ghost back to the booths. Together.

You clamp your thighs together and peel off a few of the bills to pass to the bouncer on booth duty. He raises his eyebrows and whistles at you, then pockets the cash and waves you in.

The booths aren't monitored, is the thing, which is why someone is always outside. They're supposed to track how long a girl is in a booth, if she's dancing or maybe doing something else- but even the good guys who check in and walk dancers to their cars after a shift can be bought off to look the other way for a bit.

You've never had to buy them off. You've always danced, maybe teased a little more than you would on stage, and then gotten paid your due. You'd been too nervous, maybe somehow shy, about crossing the final line, no matter how much money was flashed your way.

Now though- four big men crammed into the little booth, music pounding in your head- now all you want is to let loose. When Ghost sets you on your feet and rubs his thumb over your lips, you realize you'd be doing this for fucking free. You let his thumb pop in and suck on it, flicking your tongue around the base, and he grins, scars creasing his cheeks. He lets you go, and you spin in place, Ghost sitting down next to Price on the cushioned bench seat, Gaz and Soap leaning on the walls.

The song changes and you dance, more sensual than you would on a stage- this isn't a performance, this is for them, and you feel the weight of their eyes as you play with your breasts, swing your hips and ass, touching yourself and driving your own pleasure up and up.

You brace a hand on the wall of the booth, bent at the waist with your ass facing them, and- Jesus fuck, you really are doing this- you drag your free hand down your stomach, slipping into your panties, and make sure they all can see how you slide a finger into your pussy, smooth and slick, a little moan muffled under the bass beat.

There's a deep groan of want from behind you, and you look over your shoulder to see all four of them locked on, watching you, and it goes right to your core. There's not much room- the booths are meant for a single dancer and customer, not one regular person and four giants, and you can practically feel it get hotter. Gaz brings a hand up, hovering over your ass, and when you nod at him he slides his fingers under the strap of the little (soaked) panties and-

Oh fuck, he just ripped it off, snapped elastic dangling, and the little scrap over your cunt stays put only by how wet you are-

Gaz peels it away, dropping your panties to the floor, and you slide a second finger inside and moan louder. Fuck, that was the hottest thing that's ever happened to you, and now you have your bare cunt spread out in front of them, too wet to be professional, just a girl who wants to get fucked.

Someone moves your hand away, and you only know it's Price by the scrape of his mustache on your ass as he kneels down and shoves his face into your pussy, licking from clit to hole in one swipe, and you nearly crash to the floor in surprise. Soap gets up at your face and you brace against him, instead of the wall, gripping the side of your throat with one hand as he angles your face for a kiss, sucking on your tongue, devouring you. Price's tongue is hot and wet, teasing your clit and hole both- oh fuck, licking your asshole, little soft flicks of his tongue that make you whine into Soap's mouth when he goes back to your clit again. Someone else lifts your leg up, opening your thighs more for Price. You're balanced on one mile-high heel, and when two different hands start groping your breasts you wobble dangerously.

"Here, love, let's get you settled-" that's Ghost in your ear, his lips tracing the shell, and Price pops off your clit as you're lifted and shuffled around to sit like you had at the table- Ghost behind you, back to his chest, his thighs opened up to spread yours. This time though, he gets his hands under your knees, lifting up as well as out- both your holes are presented this way, the soft pink flesh of your pussy gleaming wet under the strobes, and Price gets back to eating you out even harder, sucking deeper, curling his whole tongue inside you to stroke your g-spot, god, you'd never been eaten out this well. The only fingers that have touched your pussy are your own, all the men still have their pants buttoned, cocks big straining bulges. Ghost grinds up against your ass, and when Price finally slips a finger inside, you think of being split open on Ghost's cock while Price sucks your clit, and come right there, thighs shaking and lips parted in a moan.

Price sits back, fingering you gently through the aftershocks, his mustache wet. "Good girl, love, that's gorgeous," he says, and pats your pussy, a little wet slap. "Nice and relaxed now. Simon, you want her first?"

Simon- Ghost, you realize- huffs into your ear and lifts you up. He's fucking holding you in midair, Jesus christ, the muscle control alone- and Price pops his jeans open and holds the man's cock at your hole before you can even blink. It hits you that he's about to do just what you had imagined, and your pussy winks where a little creamy slick is leaking out.

Soap swears, "Fuck LT, either stick it in her or hand her over," and you hear Gaz laugh at him as Ghost lowers you so slowly down, his arms steady under your knees, your pathetic whimpers as he splits you open coming almost on beat. He seats you on his lap, your pussy stretched, and even before you can catch your breath from the cock shoved up to your lungs he's moving, thrusting up and pulling down, your whole body held in place to be used.

You're moaning nonstop, each thrust in shoving a little squeaky sound out, each long pull back a desperate needy noise. Your eyes slide closed, and someone tuts, pinching your nipple until they open again, whining.

Price is still kneeling in front of you, but he's got his cock out, jacking the rigid flesh to the rhythm Ghost is fucking you. He's huge too, big and thick, and you think about him shoving inside while you're still sloppy and open from Ghost.

The man groans behind you, "fuck birdie, I felt that. Got so fucking tight. You like watching him huh?" You moan a weak yes, and shake as Soap's hand comes to your clit, teasing it with just his fingertips. "Going to come for daddy to see?" You should never have made that dumb joke, but its too late now, because daddy is ringing in your ears like a bell, and Ghost is slamming his cock into you so hard it hurts, and Soap has his fingers rolling over your clit, Gaz sucking on his neck with both hands pulling out their cocks together, big and heavy, stroking them off.

You come again with white sparkles behind your eyes, and Ghost drops your legs to get his hands on your tits, squeezing each so hard you shout. It hurts, it's too much, but his grip is rock solid. He's fucking using your tits like handles to fuck you up and down the last little bit, milking his cock, and you feel another orgasm creep up on the heels of the last, pussy clenching and clit throbbing, the mess of your combined come leaking out around Ghost's cock.

You don't bother trying to stand up, you can't, feeling so fucked out and you've only had one of them, fuck. Soap helps you sit forward, and you whine as your thighs twitch.

He tuts and pushes your hair back from your face, damp with sweat. "Poor lass, gone all come drunk already. Want to take her with me Kyle?"

Gaz grins and pulls your hips up, off Ghost, and you're turned sideways. The man is sitting on the bench looking rather come-drunk himself, eyes dark and sweet, his cock still sticky as it softens against his belly. You did that, you put that look on his face and that streak of slick down his balls, and you shiver and moan as the other two arrange you between them, kneeling down, Gaz behind you and Soap in front. You realize what they're after as Gaz pulls your ass cheeks apart, rubbing the tip of his cock up and down your pussy, spreading the slick around further, and Soap cradles your head and helps you brace against his thighs. "Nice and easy, lovie," he says, and you open your mouth and slide down onto his cock as Gaz slides his into you.

Full at both ends, the heavy hot taste of cock in your mouth, another smoothly thrusting in and out of you, and you lean into the easy rhythm and let go. The two men are big and strong, they can move and hold you where they want, all you have to do is keep sucking and not choke. It's good, comforting even, feeling a slower syrupy arousal building up in you. Your breasts hang and bounce, and you're hyper-aware of them, of your nipples and how you want them to be pinched again, groped by Ghost's huge hands.

Then Gaz shoves in deep and holds himself still, both hands gripping your waist, and you have a moment of confusion before Soap pulls your bracing hand away and pushes, cock going all the way back, bumping your throat. You try to cough around him and you can't, and can't pull away or get leverage- a little curl of fear grows in your belly. You whine and plead up at him with wet eyes, and Soap grins at you like a jackal.

Gaz pulls back a little and slams home, and your body pushes forward, and Soap pops into your throat for an eternal second, and you have a sudden realization that he's fucking your throat the same way Gaz is fucking your cunt, making a space for himself. Both men pull back out, not all the way- you cough and gasp and feel your pussy drooling- and then thrust in again. You hear the wet garbled sounds you're making- you can't moan or breathe around the cock stuffing your face- feel a string of slick snake down your thigh where your pussy is already overfull of come and cock- and fuck it. Who cares if you make it out of this. You've never felt hotter, more wanted, your clit throbbing, and that syrupy arousal climbs through your limbs again. You feel suffused with it, a warm glow, and Gaz groans as your pussy begins to bounce.

"fuckin- she's fucking half gone and still working her pussy on me. Soap, hold up a sec," and when the man slows and holds his cock half in your mouth, you whine and lick sloppily at it, your hips grinding back, wanting more of what they're giving you. Soaps gets a hand down to pinch your nipple, and tugs, pulling the little nub until your whole breast is peaked, you're whimpering and trying to smack your clit back on Gaz's balls, and he lets you go to grip your head in both hands and fuck your face, too fast to breathe around, drooling a frothy mix of spit and precome as your eyelids flutter.

"imagine what she'd look like in ropes, tied up all proper," he grunts, and Gaz's hips stutter, fucking you out of rhythm with Soap, your body jostled and bouncing, groaning and quivering and coming between them. Your pussy aches and your throat spasms around Soap, one hand weakly coming up to clutch at his wrist, as he holds you down against his balls. Your belly heaves as you instinctively fight for air, and the lights around Soap's head flash a halo of pink and blue prisms as he comes down your throat, pulling out to jerk his cock over your face, sloppy, your makeup streaking and ruined. You collapse onto the floor, your hips held up as Gaz keeps fucking your pussy. The mess drooling out of your mouth smears on your cheeks, bubbling as you whimper, your overstimulated body feeling the aches and aftershocks of multiple orgasms, dancing, being stretched and fucked.

There's so much come and slick spread around your pussy, it's wet up your ass, and you feel at a remove how Gaz is swiping his fingers through the mess, scooping up a palmful, but it doesn't register really.

Until he pauses his hips and you feel two fingers slide into your ass.

You keen into the sticky floor as his fingers probe deep. "Opened right up," he comments, and fucking hooks his fingers, using your asshole like a grip to fuck into you again. It hurts, and your pussy clamps down tight, struggling under a new pressure from the inside. Your moaning goes unheeded, and Gaz shushes you with a little pat to your ass. "Settle down, you're fine," he soothes, and rubs your clit. It's still swelled up and sensitive, and your moaning hits a new pitch, muscles tensing in anticipation of another orgasm as he plays you with both hands, fingers stroking and pulling in your ass, thumb flicking over your clit like he's lighting a match, and you sob into the puddle of spit and come under you as your body betrays you, coming in a wave down to your cramping feet. Gaz holds his cock deep inside, grinding, and you feel his come spilling out: hot drippy mess that oozes onto the floor when he lets go and you collapse, splayed out, both holes winking at the men gathered around.

How long had you even been back here? How long had they been driving you insane with pleasure?

Price's boots are in front of your face, and some buried desire pushes you up, brings your tongue out to lap at the leather, over the tight laces. Ghost moans above you, and you hear the other voices swearing.

You scrape yourself to your knees, blinking up at Price with eyes full of tears. You're still in your heels, but it's the only clothing left, your makeup smeared away and hair in a wild tangle. There's come over your face, drips down your chest and tits, smeared all over your pussy, ass, and thighs.

Price is hard, the foreskin pulled back and tip wet, still so heavy he hangs down over his balls. You open your mouth and kiss it, licking clumsily along the shaft, little whimpering moans trickling out of you. Price cups your cheek gently, and fresh tears trickle out of your eyes. You'd give him anything right now.

"Sweet thing, any other day I'd be fucking your throat even harder than Johnny did, but tonight I've got other plans for you," he says, and the bench seat scrapes the floor as Soap hauls it over, turning it cross-wise, and Price helps you stagger upright just enough to lay down on your back. You sigh in relief at the relative comfort of the padded cushion, and Ghost sits on the end just behind your head, straddling it. His cock is back in his boxers, pants still open, the half-hard shape of him bumping the top of your head.

Ghost lifts your hands and presses them to his belly, twining your fingers together. You wonder muzzily what he's doing, and then a slow awareness grips your addled brain. Price is between your legs, pants down and open, cock fully out, and you look down to see him pressing in.

Why does it feel so strange?

It's another moment before your brain turns over and your mouth opens on a moan, a sob, a plea- the heavy hot cock isn't going into your pussy, but your ass.

Tiny little hole barely opened up with two fingers, smeared inside and out with come and slick, stretching out over Price's fucking hammer, and your thighs start to spasm as an ache grows in your lower back. He's splitting you in two, your hole squeezing tight to try and keep him out, but you can't- you're too exhausted, muscles weak with orgasms, heart hammering in your chest as you realize he's going to fuck you nearly dry, and you're going to come while he does it.

Your pussy throbs from abuse, swollen and sensitive, your clit erect and aching, straining up like it's own little prick, ready to be stroked. Your nipples are so hard they hurt, breasts sore from groping and the rough floor, and when Price works the last final inch inside you cling to Ghost's hands and take it, the burning in your ass and the empty clenching of your pussy, pouring slick down onto your asshole and making each thrust a little smoother, wetter. Ghost gets one hand free and pinches your nipples as you cry, smacks your breasts, grips one in his fist and squeezes like he's going to crush it. It hurts so much it goes around to good again.

If you have any words they're nonsense, if you have any sounds other than a cry or moan they're lost to you. Price's cock slams in and out of your asshole and your body sings with it. The music still plays, a thumping beat that you feel in your chest.

Ghost's cock appears by your cheek, the wrong angle to suck it, but you can watch his fingers stroke over the skin, the precome dripping out of his hole, the shiny thin skin of the head flushed red. He comes with a grunt, and the warm wet streaks splash over your breasts, puddling in your cleavage and down your neck. Price swipes a hand through the mess and puts his fingers to your mouth- you open and let him stroke your tongue, too blissed out to suck but eager for the weight in your mouth.

Low cursing, and Price puts his hand down on your throat instead. You lay your head back, giving him more room, and feel his hips slam in, fucking into an orgasm, your clit smacking at his groin when he bottoms out. It's nearly enough, just a little more to drag you over the edge one last time, please let this be the last time, and you get it when he looks down into your eyes and says, "Come now, pet, come for me."

You black out.

You wake up- or blink- or something. Your body aches and burns, and someone is gently wiping down between your legs with a soft cloth. Someone else is kissing your throat, licking away the come and sweat, and another does the same to your breasts. The lights are flashing too brightly, the music too big and loud. Someone shushes you and cleans your face, this time with a damp wipe, and you gasp for water that comes to your lips in a plastic bottle. Its cool and sweet and you blink up at Soap, holding it to your lips, feeling shivery and precious.

Price finishes cleaning you up with a little, careful touch around your clit, and pats your thigh when you flinch. Your shoes are missing. "There, love, take it slow," he says, "don't stand up yet. You're alright."

Gaz takes one last lick of your tits, suckling on your nipple to get the drop of come that was stuck. Soap does the same behind your ear. Ghost- oh, he's holding you, cradled in his arms like a comfort toy.

There's no way you can go back out to the floor, talk to girls and guys and act like you didn't just have a religious experience in this booth. How long have you been there? How many song changes? Was anyone looking for you?

As Price stands with a groan, hands on his knees, you reach out and catch his wrist. You swallow around the lump in your throat. "Don't leave," you beg, and he blinks at you before smiling so kindly you tear up.

Ghost squeezes you up, big arms strong and safe, Gaz and Soap so warm right next to you. The lights are still too bright, a halo around their heads, Price outlined in sparkles.

"Oh, dove, we won't leave you, not ever. And you won't leave us. Been keeping an eye on you for a while, finally took our chance when we could, we aren't giving you up now."

You nod along, happy down to your bones. You didn't know you missed them until you had them. Your men, your boys, they'll take you home? Keep you forever?

Wait- which home? Your home?

Soap brings the water back to you and you swallow gratefully, parched. Your throat aches, but it's a good ache.

Ghost lifts you up like he did the first time, and you snuggle down into his shoulder, closing your eyes. You're so fucking tired.

There's a shuffling, low voices you can't make out over the music. Gaz has your bag from the dressing room, that's sweet. You'll need your normal clothes. They help lift your sweatpants up your legs, work your rubbery arms through the T-shirt. No shoes, Ghost picks you up again. Out of the booth, down the hall- the sudden chill of open air and a door that takes you into a calm, quiet night. A big van with blacked out windows, soft leather seats you lay across with a sigh. A heavy coat over your shoulders, more murmuring that's not important. More sweet water down your throat, more soothing touches and kisses.

The van's engine turns over, and drives off, your dancing heels left in the corner of the booth and your phone sitting in the locker where Gaz had stolen your bag. The bouncers who looked the other way pocketed thick stacks of cash and shrugged when asked if they saw you leave. The only things left from the night were a couple of dirty shot glasses, one with a little filmy layer stuck to the bottom, and your shoes and the snapped elastic of your panties shoved into a corner.

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atrwriting · 2 years ago

Text

kisses and other sweet things — billy the kid x cowgirl!reader

ok… i couldn’t help myself lol

also side note i don’t remember what scene this gif was from but i feel like his turned on look and look of disgust/confusion is the same — like if i hadn’t watched the show i’d be like “did he just see a pretty girl walk in?? or did someone just threaten him?? both??? hopefully both???”

but like also if he looked at me like that…,,,… melting. on the spot.

as always, warnings: smuuuuut, dom!billy, brat!reader, i don’t know if you can call it non-con but just to be safe im going to put that, p in v sex, oral, spitting in mouth (yeah i went there sue me), tears, biting, cums inside of reader (they didn’t have condoms in his time but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t use them!!!!)

also don’t sue me i don’t know if they had running water (sinks, baths, etc) but also the real billy the kid didn’t look this fine so we’re making it up as we go and going with the flow

ENOUGH TALK — here’s kisses and other sweet things…

you had been working with a crew for some time now, and as you all struggled to keep a cash flow — you had to turn to other things.

like joining forces with another crew.

the idea of joining a crew wasn’t what unsettled you — what unsettled you was being the only woman with a gun with even more men.

it’s just for one job, y’all, they had said. just this one.

one job turned into two. then that turned into three. four, five, six — and suddenly you knew everyone’s back story, drink of choice, and their type when it came to women of the night.

your first crew never asked how you felt, but you also never told them. they were all — including you — in it for the money. at the end of the day, it was all about what you had in your pockets. there was no time for quelling the simple worries, like they’d call the ones in your head.

at the end of the day — you had been doing this a long time. you had taken care of yourself up until this point, and you would continue to do so. didn’t matter who you were working with — you’d get it done.

after a day of success, everyone wanted to blow off steam. you all had found a boarding house for the night where the alcohol ran deep and there was two or three pretty women for each cattle rustler in your large group. you stayed behind a bit to drink with them, but once they started eyeing the women — you knew it was time to go.

sleeping with any of the men you worked with was also a bad idea. you couldn’t afford them seeing you as anything less than someone quick with a draw — and you worried a night of meaningless sex would ruin that.

you would never take the chance.

“have your fun, boys,” you chuckled. “you deserve it.”

“won’t stay a little longer, sweetheart?” your leader asked as a girl licked at his neck.

“another time — bath’s calling my name.”

a few pleasantries were thrown over shoulders, and you returned them. you made your quick escape up the stairway and into the shared washroom between three or four bedrooms. you knew your party had rented those rooms for the evening, so you were very excited to be able to have the bath to yourself for a little bit longer than usual.

you filled the tub with scalding hot water. the steam from the water and the whisky in your stomach made you hazy, but you welcomed it. who knew when you’d have until you had this sort of luxury or privacy again — you weren’t going to waste the chance.

the bath was quite large — fit for two or three people. you stayed on one edge as you washed your dirty skin. you were about to relax against the back when the doorknob began to turn.

you immediately snatched your gun and pointed it at the door.

“shit — sorry.”

it was the bonney kid.

he was holding a towel in his hand and was naked from the waist up. a scared look on his face was present as he tried to avert his eyes.

you put down the gun and raised an eyebrow, waiting for his next move.

“just came to wash up,” he spoke.

you knew he couldn’t see anything from where he stood, and you knew he wouldn’t be able to see below the water’s surface with the bubbles. you could tell him to fuck off — but being mean to some of these assholes sometimes proved to be worse than just swallowing your pride and being nice. you didn’t know billy very well — and you weren’t about to find out while you were naked if he was an asshole or not.

“i’m going to be a bit,” you spoke. “i don’t mind if you come in.”

he looked at you uneasily before nodded curtly, lips parting. you closed your eyes and leaned back against the tub, letting your eyes drift closed. you heard the water running and the sound of soap being scrubbed onto skin, and felt better. the next sound you heard was a razor being pulled out and your eye drifted open.

he was shaving.

he kept his gaze on himself in the mirror as he spoke. “surprised the kid can shave?”

you smiled. “never thought you were a kid from how you were with a gun.”

that made him smile. “never seen a women like you with a gun before.”

you hummed in response, not exactly sure how to respond.

“come up here to escape?”

that made you laugh. you couldn’t help but let your gaze fall on his reflection in the mirror. his eyes were trained on his skin as he let the blade slide down his neck and pull up loose hairs. your mind was hazy with drink and heat, which made you forget to respond.

“some people would say it’s rude to stare, sweetheart.”

you laughed at that — he had you there.

“and some people would say it’s rude to intrude on a woman’s bath,” you countered.

he smiled, but kept his eyes off you. you’d like to think it was out of respect. “…and would you?”

“not with you,” you offered. “you’re the only one who hasn’t tried to make a pass at me.”

“not hard to believe,” he spoke. “downstairs they’ve got a running bet to see who will be the first with you.”

you scoffed. “in their dreams.”

billy didn’t respond. he was almost done with shaving. he was washing more of his upper arms in the sink, and you suddenly felt bad. you were only taking this long because you thought everyone would be preoccupied with the downstairs activities, and because you couldn’t exactly exit with him standing there — able to see you.

“i can leave if you want to wash,” you spoke.

“water will be cold,” he responded. “‘s fine — i’ll wait the hour.”

you weren’t sure why — but that made you feel bad.

“you could join me.”

you weren’t sure what brought that on, and you knew you’d probably regret it later. however, billy’s eyes drifted up the length of the mirror to the edge where you knew he could see the tub, to your eyes. you weren’t sure how you looked — but you knew your curls were piled on top of your head and you looked sleepy. relaxed, even. peaceful.

“i don’t think you mean that, sweetheart.”

you hummed. “you don’t have to. just thought i’d offer.”

he appeared to sigh, and that’s when you thought he would leave — but he didn’t.

instead, he locked the door.

“should’ve done that in the first place,” he spoke before coming towards the tub to unlace his pants.

you turned your head away from him and let out a small giggle, shielding your gaze from his naked form. “how would we have gotten so well acquainted then, mr. bonney?”

you heard him find the other side of the tub where he sat back against. you let your eye line find in front of you and your jaw almost dropped at the sight. billy appeared to struggle to get comfortable as he sank into the warmth of the tub. the water line came up to right under his chest, showing off all of his perfect and trim muscles. with billy’s arms stretched out around the edge of the tub… you got the perfect view of the stretched muscles of his biceps.

“do i need to remind you about staring?” he asked.

you weren’t sure if he was joking — but he was right. if you wanted respect, you had to give it, too.

but you couldn’t deny just how handsome he was.

“sorry,” you said with a coy smile, and let your head fall back against the tub again.

you could hear water slightly splashing from the other side of the tub. billy had extended his legs so they were brushing yours slightly, and you shivered at the thought.

“can you…” he began. “can you get my back?”

you lifted your head and smiled. i can do all that and more if you asked, you thought.

“sure,” you said with a simple smile.

billy turned around and handed you the soap. there were a few cuts and bruises littered on his back, and you tried to be as careful with them as possible. you started on his neck, working the soap and the sponge against his muscles.

he hummed in response. you could’ve died at the thought of the big, bad billy the kid keening into your touch because you were massaging his muscles just right.

“that feels good,” he spoke. “talented fingers i suppose.”

you laughed lightly at that. you kept the sponge on his shoulders, and then worked down towards the expansion of his shoulder blades. it was scary to see such a broad man before you as you were so bare, but also the look of him was so enticing. you drew rough circles on his skin and worked your way down to the middle of his back.

“that’s good,” he replied. “thank you, darlin’.”

you went to hand the sponge back to him, but he turned around in place instead. the tops of your breasts were showing and you knew he could see the wildness in your eyes.

“how’d a sweet thing like you end up with us?” he asked, eyes searching yours for the answer.

“maybe i’m just the only one who knows how to handle you boys,” you spoke, trying to be coy. “actually… one of them i grew up with. we’ve always worked together, but that’s as far as it’s ever gone.”

“and what would he say if he knew if you were in here with me?” he asked.

you scrunched your eyebrows at him. “wouldn’t be his business. he’s also got a pretty blonde in his lap tonight. change of pace from his usual red head.”

“and he missed a chance to get to see you like this?” he asked, tucking a curl behind your ear.

“is his loss your gain, mr. bonney?” you asked, a smile drifting onto your face.

that was bold. you knew it. you could feel it.

“i think you’d have to ask the pretty miss before me,” he responded, inching his face closer. “she’d be mighty sweet if she let me kiss her.”

“she’s pretty pissed you haven’t already.”

he stared at you for a few minutes with his plump and pink lips parted in such a way where you knew thoughts were running behind his pretty eyes. he dipped his forehead towards yours as the intensity of the situation mixed with the hot steam around you and the liquor inside both of you. he dipped his chin once, and caught your waiting lips with ease.

his lips were dry and cracked against yours, but you loved it. billy was the type of man that was hard and worked even harder, and every bit of him reflected that. his dark curls were twirling around his hairline, mixing with sweat and soapy water. you wanted to brush them back, hop in his lap, and kiss him until there was more water on the floor than in the tub.

but you couldn’t — not yet.

billy’s lips folded between yours as if he was just happy to be here — with you. the feeling was intoxicating as there was nothing like sharing intimacy with a sweet man in the comfort of hot water. you couldn’t help yourself in that moment — you brought your hand up to cup the side of his face, and he sucked in a sharp breath in response.

“you can touch me, you know,” you whispered.

“the things i want to do to you, darlin’…” he spoke, shaking his head and trying to catch his breath at the same time. “shouldn’t be wasted in a tub. let me take you back to your room.”

you both left the bathtub and tried your best to dry off as quickly as possible. it was almost hard to believe you were giggling with billy like innocents as you raced back to your room — hoping not to run into any more cowboys.

you immediately pushed him to sit down on the edge of the bed before you climbed into his lap. his thighs were strong and thick — the perfect foundation for a thing like you to hold yourself up enough to grab his cock in your hands, and swallow his moans through another kiss.

“tried not to stare in the bathtub, billy… but can you blame me?” you asked, breathless.

“noticed you starin’,” he grunted, running his calloused hands all over your body. “couldn’t help but stare back. needed to see where the trigger on you was.”

you squealed in delight at his dirty mouth before he threw you off his lap and rolled you over. he immediately started kissing down your body.

“i want you inside me, billy,” you whined. “not that.”

he worked his way back up to you before he caught you in another chaste kiss. against your lips, he spoke, “i’m a gentleman, sweetheart, first and foremost.”

“and what if a dirty little thing like me didn’t want a gentleman?”

he caught your chin in between his pointer finger and thumb and extended your neck ever so slightly. he looked down his nose at your pretty, flushed face. you smiled up at him as he scanned your face. “then i’d tell you — if i’ve got you all to myself, i’m going to do anything i want with that pretty little pussy. planned on tastin’ you, sweetheart — you got a problem with that?”

a wide grin spread across your face as your cheeks became rosier. “can’t say i can argue with you, then, cowboy.”

he pressed a heavy kiss to your lips, your cheek, one on the base of your neck — and then bit down hard on the skin of your shoulder. immediately, your hands came up to lay across his biceps before he began to suck on the spot, sending shock waves throughout your body. he withdrew from you and was in between your thighs in an instant.

he spread your legs and held them down in place. his tongue was strong and thick as it explored the places between your folds. you hoisted yourself onto your elbows so you could get a better look at the angel before you.

you watched as his eyes close as his tongue drew sloppy, wet circles around your clit. your teeth sank into your bottom lip as you watched him bring a hand up to his mouth, lubricate his fingers, and prod at your entrance. billy let out a throaty groan as his two fingers slipped in with ease, exploring for that one special spot.

he watched as your pussy swallowed his fingers, hoping to trap them inside of you. you were almost vibrating at how good it felt to have his fingers inside of you and his drier thumb deliver the most delicious bouts of friction and pressure to your clit.

“yes —“ you gasped, gazing at his fingers.

his eyes immediately flicked up to yours. “still got a problem with this, doll?”

you folded your lips into each other as you shook your head slowly, holding his gaze. you were biting back the moan as he curled your fingers inside of you.

“no, that’s not how this works,” he stated. “if i’m making you feel that good, i should get to hear those pretty moans, don’t you think?”

a deep crease was forming in your brow with the perfect combination of friction, lubrication, pressure, and rhythm you had ever felt. you wanted to respond to him, of course, but how could you?

“i gotta work for it, that it?” he grunted. “oh, sweet thing…”

he shoved a third finger inside of you and you gasped. you couldn’t help it. you fisted the sheets on either side of you and threw your head back in the air. his thumb was working long, drawn out circles on your sensitive clit as your hips bucked up to meet his movements.

“that’s what you needed, baby?” he asked. “break so easily. i’d fit another, but this pussy is so sweet and tight — can’t fit.”

you were practically whining at his words. he would switch between his tongue and thumb every few seconds to show you the type of variety that had your toes curling. his groans against your pussy were the added vibration that kept your hips moving to meet his face.

“tastes so fuckin’ sweet,” he grunted, his eyes closed. “can’t wait to stuff my cock in there.”

“don’t be mean to me, billy,” you gasped. “i want to feel your cock so bad, please…”

“no, baby,” he refused. “not until i make you feel good. you want my cock? yeah, well — you know what i want.”

you whined in frustration at his words — his words, the addition of what was making the heat and pressure build, and build, and build inside you until you were a sobbing mess on the bed.

“that’s it, sweetheart — give in,” he gasped. “i wanna know how good i’m making you feel.”

his voice was so husky it was taking over all of your senses. you hung onto every word as he led you closer and closer to what was your tipping point. he was stretching you so taut — like a string, ready to snap. when he suddenly pulled his hand away, you barely noticed it — until he replaced it with his cock.

you gasped at what came next.

first it was your legs — they immediately began to shake uncontrollably. the immense pressure started at your curled toes, your stretched feet, and worked its way up all the way to your shaking calves and thighs. the warmth coaxed your hips into a soft roll as you rode out your orgasm — blinded by the ecstasy of it all.

you immediately grabbed onto billy for dear life as all of your senses fucking swam. it was wave, after wave, after wave that hit you, arched your back towards the ceiling, and left you fucking breathless. your mouth fell open instantly, parted as whines and soft moans left and filled the open air of your bedroom.

and what did billy do? he grabbed you by the chin, still rutting his hips against yours, and spit in your fucking mouth.

“swallow,” he ordered, eyes boring down into yours.

you gasped as you understood his command, and like the good girl you were — you did as you were told.

“good girl,” he whispered from above you, stroking your chin.

you sucked in a sharp breath of air as you tried to regain your senses. you hoisted yourself back into your elbows, trying to focus — but it was just so hard. your pussy was so, so sensitive and it was like billy’s cock knew exactly out how to drag out your orgasm. you glanced up at billy, and realized your vision was blurry. shattered, fucked out beyond belief — you realized there were tears, literal tears in your eyes.

“no breaks for you, sweetheart,” he spoke, leaning over and holding your hips down. “need to make sure this pussy knows who she belongs to.”

your body refused to stop shaking — but it gave into every touch, caress, pull, and push from billy. you were his to use and you fucking relished in the feeling.

through your dark, thick, damp lashes, you glanced up at him. immediately, his bright, wild eyes connected with yours. there was no stopping the animal before you — not until he got his fix. the pure and pretty girl who always surprised the group with her skill was laying beneath him like a fucked out doll and he couldn’t get enough.

“please, billy,” you whined, biting down on your lip. “use my pussy just like that…”

“my fucking pussy,” he grunted.

“all yours, baby,” you gasped, laying victim to the curling warmth inside your womb once again. it was like an itch that needed to be scratched, and only billy could fix it. the idea of a second orgasm taunted you — teased you, until it was the only thing you could think about. you were close… so close… “billy, fuck — you’re going to make me — you’re gonna —“

“that’s it, baby, yeah —“ his thrusts were getting sloppier now as a light sheen of sweat lay across his forehead. the veins in his biceps and neck were protruding and his eyes were trained on your face. “bein’ so good f’me.”

“billy —“ you cried, tears coming to your eyes again. you reached for him, and brought him down to you. he held you by the back of the head and held your jaw in place with his thumb. through gritted teeth and wet eyes, you sobbed, “driving me fucking crazy.”

“yeah, yeah?” he taunted. “good. boutta make a mess of this fuckin’ pussy.”

with one last thrust, you curled into billy’s neck and cried. actually cried. he held you close to him as he continued to thrust inside of you — pressing fat, wet kisses to the side of your face. you were shaking in his hold, trying so desperately to hold onto reality — but it was slipping. it was slipping farther and farther away with every sweet word that billy ghosted over your ear.

“say you’re mine,” he ordered, with desperation in your voice. “say you’re mine, and i’ll cum.”

“i’m yours, billy,” you sobbed. “i’m yours. only yours.”

an animalistic groan left billy’s mouth as he tugged on your hair. he pulled your neck back and taut, shoving his face into the crook of your neck and biting down on your shoulder. his body pulsed one, two, three times as his orgasm overtook him and you. you were a weeping, crying mess and took everything that billy gave you.

he rut his cock into you a few more times as you both came down for your highs. billy was so commanding in bed — but after? nothing compared to how he was after. he pulled you into his lap, cock still inside you, and began peppering kisses all over your face. sweet nothings were whispered into your ear, but all you could do was whimper quietly in response. he laughed slightly in your ear, his breath ticking your sensitive skin, and dug his nose into your hairline.

“never getting rid of me now, sweet thing.”

- - -

would love to hear your thoughts :)

-L

#billy the kid 2022 #billy the kid x reader #billy the kid smut #billy the kid #william bonney smut #william h bonney x reader #william bonney #kid antrim #tom blyth #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you

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starkeymeow · 2 months ago

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rafe encounters his first pickpocketer — ! PRETTY GIRL

IT’S ONE OF THOSE FIGURE 8 NIGHTS. it’s humid, loud with money. the cameron estate is lit up like a movie set, champagne flowing, music thumping low. it’s all very curated, very ‘old money with a buzz.’ the pogues are in black polos, dressed to serve. the kooks are in white, dressed to be worshipped.

rafe is standing near the pool’s edge, back to the water, drink in hand, talking to men twice his age like he’s been doing this his whole life. because he has. he’s in one of his moods—charming, a little cocky, tie loosened just enough to look effortless. his sleeves are rolled, his watch catches the light when he lifts his glass.

he’s got this little circle around him, all investors, old friends of ward’s, a bored girl who keeps laughing at things that aren’t funny. but he mainly lets them talk, nods when it matters, adds just enough to seem smart, interested. but mostly, he drinks.

literally. shoulder first, stumbling a bit, your heel scuffing over the edge of the stone patio as you catch yourself. your palm grazes his back. your drink almost spills but you save it.

“shit, i’m so sorry!” you laugh quickly, already brushing your hair out of your face, head tilted up to see who you ran into. you don’t know it’s him at first.

he turns slightly, his eyes dragging over his shoulder, and then lower. you don’t flinch.

“you alright?” he asks. it’s not rude, not warm either, just curious.

“yeah,” you grin. “you’re good too— no stains.” you gesture to his shirt like you didn’t just interrupt some high-level convo between real estate big dogs and their mini-mes. your smile is easy, but practiced.

he smirks, tilts his head just slightly. “lucky me.”

you’re flushed like you’ve had a few drinks, cheeks warm, pupils a little wide. but you move like you know exactly what you’re doing.

rafe doesn’t say anything else. just stares for a second too long, and turns back to the group. but you stay.

you peek at the man beside him, then the woman across, then back at rafe. “so, what are we talking about? boring business, golf, secrets?” you ask, half-laughing as you wedge yourself gently into the circle.

a few of them laugh. one raises a brow. but rafe? he’s looking at you like you’re a question he wants the answer to.

“you always walk into groups like this?” he asks, turning just enough to face you, drink lazily hanging from his fingers.

“only when they look boring enough to crash.”

his smile sharpens. he steps aside half an inch, letting you closer. you don’t hesitate.

you’ve slid into the group like you belong, leaning into his side just a little, shoulder brushing his bicep. every time you speak, your arm presses lightly against his. his cologne hits stronger this close.

he glances down at you, just once, and murmurs, “you’ve got some nerve, pretty girl.”

you laugh softly, brushing a hand through your hair. “you say that like it’s not your type.”

and that’s when your hand drifts, just briefly, just enough. you shift like you’re adjusting your dress, fingers grazing the inside of his open blazer, where the edge of his money clip pokes out from his inner pocket. smooth gold. real cash. easy pull.

you pinch it out like it’s nothing. your hand slips back to your side, motion clean and quiet.

“so what are you drinking?” you ask, head tilted up toward him. “let me guess, bourbon? neat. because you think it makes you look older.”

“because it’s good,” he corrects, giving you that lazy, crooked grin.

you hum, playful. “sure.”

you talk a little more. flirt, but just enough. his eyes linger. you lean in, press your palm to his chest once when he says something about kooks being predictable, and you say, “good thing i’m not one.”

and then you pull away, blinking like you’ve just remembered something.

“shit, i have to find my friend,” you lie, already backing up, smile still intact. “she gets real dramatic when she thinks i’ve ditched her.”

rafe just watches you.

“i’ll see you around, pretty boy,” you add over your shoulder.

he doesn’t realize yet, but his pocket is lighter, and you’re already slipping into the crowd, smiling like you never took a damn thing.

. . . until a few days later.

rafe’s leaning against the wood counter of the country club bar, arms crossed loosely as he waits for the bartender to finish up with someone else.

he slides his card across the bar when the bartender’s free, his fingers brushing lightly over the counter. he taps his foot under the table, checking his watch. not in a hurry, but not really lingering either. just taking the moment as it comes.

he eyes the second floor. it’s a wide, open space, lined with windows that show off the other buildings, even the docks are visible from here too, a faint line of boats bobbing in the sun’s reflection. it’s a good day, he can tell before he’s even thought much about it.

until he spots you.

he blinks, his gaze shifting toward a group of men standing near the railing. his jaw tightens as he sees you leaning into one of them, laughing at something with that easy, charming smile of yours.

you blow a kiss and wave, your hands tossing the movement over your shoulder before you turn to walk away, strutting toward the dock like you own the space.

rafe’s fingers tighten around his drink. his thoughts flicker for a moment, then snap back into focus, his chest tight with a confusing mix of curiosity and irritation.

rafe doesn’t even respond, just takes his card that’s slid to him again and gulps down the rest of his alcohol in one swift motion. the glass clinks against the counter as he sets it down. his gaze stays locked on you as you walk, now almost out of sight, while he heads for the door.

his footsteps are steady as he follows you, keeping his distance just enough to not raise suspicion, but close enough to stay on your tail. the dock’s less crowded now, but you don’t seem to notice him at first, walking into one of the buildings by the shore. it’s an old, converted warehouse turned lounge.

you step through the door, and that’s when he makes his move. he’s quick, his hand reaches out and catches your wrist, pulling you to a halt.

you snap around, startled, your eyes wide with surprise at the sudden force of it. your eyes meet his, a sharp inhale catching in your throat. but you don’t look scared. you don’t even look worried, more like caught off guard, and maybe slightly annoyed.

“let go of me,” you hiss, immediately trying to twist your wrist out of his grip.

“you remember me?”

you grit out through your teeth, “i’d never forget a face like that,” and tug again.

rafe doesn’t budge, his fingers firm around your wrist. he holds you there, not too tight, but enough to make it clear he’s not letting you off that easy.

he leans in, his voice low, but blunt. “what’s your method?”

“what?” you blink up at him, clearly not getting it at first.

he doesn’t repeat himself. just looks at you, dead serious, eyes narrowed. “how’d you do it? the trick, slipping that off me and that guy just a second ago, so clean.” he tilts his head, studying you like some puzzle he’s determined to solve. “working with someone else? were you just gonna disappear in here and have some getaway driver waiting out front?”

you stare at him, your expression a mix of disbelief and mild amusement. you bite back a laugh, clearly not taking him seriously.

“are you out of your mind?” you say, looking at him like he’s the one who’s acting crazy. “that’s none of your business. but if you really think i swipe stuff off of people and then plan to disappear into some getaway car, then you’re the one who’s stupid.”

you tug at your wrist again, this time more forcefully. you’re not fighting him in a way that shows real panic, more like you can’t believe you’re even having this conversation.

rafe just stares at you, still unamused but his curiosity piqued even more. “so that wasn’t your plan?”

“no. you aren’t mad?”

rafe huffs, rolling his eyes like it’s the most ridiculous thing he's ever heard. “mad? you literally stole off a kook,” he says with a grin but keeps that teasing look in his eyes. “why should i be worried? clearly, you needed it.”

you take full fake offense to that.

“hey!” a voice shouts, just outside the building. “a girl run through here?”

you freeze, and both of you turn toward the door, your eyes narrowing as the voice continues, getting closer. “i think she took something from me.”

there’s no mistaking the urgency in the voice, and that’s when you know, he’s realized he’s been pickpocketed.

you’re starting to get the feeling that the guy might catch up to you sooner than you thought. you can feel rafe’s hand tighten around your wrist, not letting go, and you’re about to lose your cool.

but then, his voice cuts through, “teach me your tricks,” he doesn’t seem tense at all, actually, he seems intrigued, his grip firm but not aggressive, “and you’ve got yourself a getaway driver.”

you stop, your brain momentarily stalling as you try to process what he just said. “what?” the word escapes your lips, barely a whisper, before you look up at him like he’s lost his mind again.

he leans in slightly, not breaking eye contact. “you can’t just disappear without a plan,” he says, his voice almost teasing, “just teach me how to do that, and i’ll get you out of here.”

you stare at him for a moment, still processing his casualness. and then you laugh, shaking your head in disbelief. he’s either playing you or he’s genuinely unbothered by the situation. either way, you’re starting to like the idea of his offer. you hesitate just a beat too long before smiling back.

“you’re unbelievable,” you say, your voice quieter now. “fine,” you add, nodding slightly. “you’ve got yourself a deal.”

rafe steps back, his hand finally releasing your wrist, guiding you toward a door out. you two blend into the crowd of kooks streaming in and out. no one seems to notice as you slip through the entrance, and you reach the parking lot.

he leads you to his car, a sleek black vehicle parked at the far corner, far enough to escape the attention of anyone looking for you. he opens the passenger door for you, stepping aside with a grin.

“so,” he says as you slide into the seat, his eyes glinting with something dangerous, “what’s next, pretty girl?”

you can’t help but smirk as he gets into the driver’s seat, slamming the door behind him. “next?” you echo. “oh, you teach me how to pickpocket a kook without getting caught.”

he just laughs, starts the engine, and pulls out of the lot.

@nicholaschavezslut69 @iissza @snowtargaryen @yootvi @ariiwritess @spideysimpossiblegirl @skyslowalking @adribarbie @obsessionsarenotfortheweak @0-tatiana-0 @beebeerockknot @rafestar @drewstarkeyzwhore @drewsephrry @annaconscience @writtenbyhollywood @yourtypicalteenagegirl @daisydark @v4mpscrms

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astroeleanor · 2 months ago

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°💸⋆.ೃ🍾࿔*:･Your 2H Sign = How To Make More $$$ 💳⋆.ೃ💰࿔*:･

Your 2nd house is the part of your chart can show you the best side hustle ideas to increase your income. Look at the sign on your 2nd House cusp, its ruling planet, and any planets sitting there. They symbolize out how you monetize.

The 2nd House is the House of Possessions: movable assets, cash flow, food, tools, anything you can trade. The sign on the cusp sets up your style of 'acquisition' (Taurus = slow‑build goods, Scorpio = high‑risk high‑reward holdings), while the ruler’s dignity and aspects describe reliability, or lack thereof, of income.

Planets inside the 2nd act like tenants shaping the property: Jupiter here inflates resources, Saturn conserves but can pinch, Mars spends to make, Venus monetizes aesthetics.

Because the 2nd is in aversion to the Ascendant (no Ptolemaic aspect), you often have to develop its promises actively: wealth isn’t “you,” it’s something you must manage. So, let's look at the kind of side hustles you can do to increase your revenue!

♈︎ Aries 2H: Physical, Fast, ACTION-Driven

(Aries rules motion, competition, fire, physical activity, force)

Personal trainer or group fitness instructor.

Manual labor gigs like junk removal, or yard work (physical and gives instant results.)

Motorcycle/scooter delivery (Uber Eats, DoorDash): speed + autonomy? Very Aries.

Selling refurbished sports equipment.

Pressure washing services, which is oddly satisfying AND includes aggressive water blasting lol.

Fitness bootcamps in local parks (Mars rules the battlefield… or, in this case, bootcamps)

Pop-up self-defense workshops

Bike repair and resale (hands-on + quick turnaround)

Car detailing (mobile service). You vs. grime. Who wins? You.

Sell custom gym gear or accessories.

♉︎ Taurus 2H: Sensory, Grounded, Product-Based

(Taurus rules the senses and the material world, it’s a sign connected to beauty and pleasure)

Bake-and-sell operation (bread, cookies) at markets. Taurus=YES to carbs and cozy smells.

Meal prep or personal chef (nourishing others = peak Taurus.)

Sell plants or houseplant propagation, you’re growing literal value.

Create and sell body care products: lotions, scrubs, soaps… (Venus-ruled.)

Furniture refinishing for resale.

Offer at-home spa services (facials, scrubs.)

Curate and sell gift boxes (Venus loves a well-wrapped present.)

Do minor home repair or furniture assembly.

Build and sell wooden plant stands or decor (wood + plants + aesthetic = Taurus.)

♊︎ Gemini 2H: Communicative, Clever, Multi-Tasking

(Gemini = ruled by Mercury = ideas, speech, tech, variety, teaching)

Freelance writing or blogging.

Transcription or captioning services.

Resume writing/job application support.

Social media management (multitasking + memes.)

Sell printable planners or flashcards (info = money.)

Offer typing or data-entry services, which are low lift & high focus

Sell templates for resumes, bios, or cover letters, Mercury loves a system!

Write email campaigns for small businesses, you can become the voice behind the curtain.

Teach intro to AI tools or chatbots (modern Mercurial real-world applications.)

Create micro-courses on writing or communication.

♋︎ Cancer 2H: Caring, Cozy, DOMESTIC

(Cancer rules the home, food, feelings. It’s the nurturer through and through)

Home organization services, give cluttered homes and their owners love.

Baking and delivering comfort desserts (cookies = hugs in edible form!!)

Make and sell homemade frozen meals, nourishing the body AND soul.

Offer elder companionship visits (heartfelt and so needed.)

Run a daycare or babysitting service. Moon=family.

Run a laundry drop-off/pickup service.

Custom holiday decorating (homes or offices), make it feel like home anywhere.

Help seniors with digital tools (basic tech help.)

Create sentimental gifts like memory jars or scrapbooks.

♌︎ Leo 2H: Expressive, Bold, Entertaining

(Leo rules performance, leadership, fame, visibility, and the desire to SHINE)

Portrait photography (kids, pets, solo, couples.)

Event hosting or party entertainment.

DJ for small events or weddings.

Basic video editing for others (help THEM shine!)

Personalized video messages. charisma = income.

Teach short performance workshops (confidence, improv) to help others own a stage.

Become a personal shopper.

Sell selfie lighting kits or content creator bundles.

Host creative kids camps (theater, dance, art.)

Make reels/TikToks for local businesses (attention = currency.)

♍︎ Virgo 2H: Detailed, Service-Oriented, Practical

(Virgo rules systems, refinement, discernment, organisation, usefulness)

Proofreading or editing work. Spotting a comma out of place or “their/they’re” being misused = Virgo joy.

House cleaning or deep-cleaning services.

Virtual assistant (email, scheduling, admin.)

Sell Notion or Excel templates. Virgo: spreadsheets.

Bookkeeping for small businesses.

Create custom cleaning schedules or checklists.

Offer “organize your digital life” sessions.

Specialize in email inbox cleanups.

♎︎︎ Libra 2H: Tasteful, Charming, Design-Savvy

(Libra = Venus-ruled = style, beauty, balance, aesthetics)

Styling outfits from clients’ own wardrobes.

Become a personal shopper.

Bridal/event makeup services (enhancing natural beauty = Libra.)

Teach etiquette, the power of grace

Curate secondhand outfit bundles.

Custom invitations or event printables that are pretty AND functional.

Offer virtual interior styling consultations.

Sell color palette guides for branding or outfits.

Create custom date night itineraries (romance, planned and packaged=Libra!!)

Style flat-lay photos for products or menus.

Do hair, make-up, nails, etc.

♏︎ Scorpio 2H: Deep, Transformative, Private

(Scorpio rules what’s hidden, intense, and powerful, alchemy, psychology)

Tarot or astrology readings.

Energy healing or bodywork.

Private coaching for money/debt management.

Online investigation or background research (Scorpio = uncovering hidden information)

Teach classes on boundaries, consent, empowerment, etc.

Sell private journal templates for deep self-reflection.

Moderate anonymous support groups or forums.

Specialize in deep-cleaning emotionally loaded spaces (yes, THAT kind of clearing.)

♐︎ Sagittarius 2H: Expansive, Global, Philosophical

(Sag rules teaching, travel, and BIG ideas)

Teach English (or any other language) or become a tutor online

Sell travel guides or digital itineraries, help others travel smarter=Sag

Rent out camping gear or bikes (freedom for rent lol.)

Ghostwrite opinion pieces or thought blogs, say what others are thinking!

Create walking tours for travelers or locals.

Sell travel photography.

Become a travel influencer on the side.

Translate travel documents or resumes.

♑︎ Capricorn 2H: Strategic, Structured, Business-Minded

(Cap rules time, career, limitations, long-term value)

Resume or career coaching, help others climb the “mountain of success”.

Freelance project management.

Property management or Airbnb co-host (passive-ish income.)

Sell templates for business (contracts, invoices).

Create accountability coaching packages.

Sell organizational templates.

Freelance as an operations assistant (the CEO behind the CEO.)

Build a resource hub for freelancers or solopreneurs (structure = empowerment.)

♒︎ Aquarius 2H: Innovative, Digital, Niche

(Aquarius rules tech, rebellion, and the future. But it’s also connected to community!)

Tech repair or setup.

Build websites for local businesses, or anyone else for that matter.

Sell digital products (ebooks, templates).

Run online communities or Discords.

Host workshops on digital privacy or tools. Collective knowledge (Aqua)= power

Build and sell Canva templates for online creators.

Curate niche info packs or digital libraries.

Help people automate parts of their life or business.

♓︎ Pisces 2H: Dreamy, Healing, Imaginative

(Pisces rules the sea, the arts, spirituality, dreams, and all things soft)

Pet sitting or house sitting, caring for beings + quiet time? It’s perfect for this energy.

Sell dreamy artwork or collages.

Offer meditation classes or hypnosis.

Teach art to kids or adults.

Custom poetry or lullaby commissions (very niche tho.)

Sell digital dream journals or prompts.

Make downloadable ambient music loops.

Create printable affirmation cards.

Design calming phone wallpapers or lock screens.

Offer spiritual services (tarot or astrology readings, reiki, etc.)

Thank you for taking the time to read my post!Your curiosity & engagement mean the world to me. I hope you not only found it enjoyable but also enriching for your astrological knowledge.Your support & interest inspire me to continue sharing insights & information with you. I appreciate you immensely.

• 🕸️ JOIN MY PATREON for exquisite & in-depth astrology content. You'll also receive a free mini reading upon joining. :)

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thebluester2020 · 10 months ago

Text

[ZZZ] "How To Recieve An A+ In Housekeeping!"

Summary: Attempting to get a job in Victorian Housekeeping Co. is a very strenuous process! One must show a wide variety of skills, good vocabulary, and excellent manners— all three were skills that you were failing at but, luckily the leader of the company had the perfect method to teach you these skills and it all starts with a program! Warning(s): Dom! Lycaon / Sub! Reader, Brat-Taming [Reader's a bit mouthy at best tbh] Spanking, Slight Edging, Cum Denial [Kinda? Lycaon encourages reader not to cum but doesn't do anything to enforce it tbh], Lycian being gentlemanly as hell. (Feel free to tell me if I missed anything!) Side Note(s): I won't say I am/am not a furry. But I will say that my taste in dudes will always favor them where they're stoic and serious but have a secret soft side. Respectfully, those types of men make me want to do the sexy splits on them.

Anyway, hope y'all enjoy this <33

"Your manners are terrible"

When those words left the wolfman's mouth sternly as you sat before him, only a desk separating the two of you, you could've sworn you felt a metaphorical anvil drop into your stomach. You had been job-hunting for a couple of weeks now, after your last gang had disbanded due to the leader getting caught up with the law. You no longer had a steady flow of cash (albeit a little illegal ) coming in!

From gang member to attempted housemaid...it was laughable. Even to you.

And clearly, the leader of the Victorian Housekeeping company thought so too from the way he looked at your resume with a strict gaze once more before resuming looking at you. You were fully expectant of another harsh sentence to slip from his sharp-toothed youth until...you heard a heavy sigh escape him.

He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms, the very room seeming to react to the movement by the way the single light above you two flickered. His then he huffed. "There is a way to improve to improve your manners, however, you'll be learning from me personally."

You gasped. "Really?! Thank you so much, man!"

His ear twitched at the casual "man" you threw his way. "...Sir or mister is a more proper way of speaking to your male superiors."

You cleared your throat and uttered a 'sorry'. "The program will be for three weeks. Each week will be dedicated to a specific set of manners that you are to master if you wish to join the company."

"Which are?" You responded.

"The first week will be vocabulary, communication with clients, and the correct words to address people by," As Lyacon said this, he opened a drawer on his side before pulling out a piece of paper and sliding it to you. You slowly began to read over the paper, one that seemed like a contract of sorts as the wolf continued to talk.

"The second week will simply focus on posture."

You scoffed as your eyes flicked back up to his. "Posture? Ain't that just walkin'?"

"Proper posture is harder to achieve than one may assume Ms. Y/N." He said. "The third week will be—"

The sudden clearing of his throat made him stop immediately, your face suddenly but quickly turning red as you reached a section on the paper that caught your eye.

Complete submission is expected by those who train under Von Lycaon, especially those he offers "favors" to.

"F-Favors...?"

"Favors hint towards a sexual nature, if I'm to assume that was the inquiry to your question?"

In your former gang, you had heard about Von Lycaon and the whole attitude of the white wolfman. He was a pinnacle of perfection in seemingly everything he did! There didn't seem to be a single thing he half-assed, to put it crudely, and what's more? He didn't get distracted. So...for a document to suggest that he wanted submission during sex?

You didn't know if it was shocking or expected.

"I didn't expect the Lycaon to need a document to garner sex." You said.

A rare chuckle left him. "I don't," He answered. "But everyone learns quicker and better when praise and pleasure is included, correct? This is merely a suggestion for you to learn faster. You are more than welcome to opt out of this."

"And if I accept?" Upon that question, the corners of Lycaon's mouth curled up slightly as he slowly leaned in until you could just barely feel his breath.

"Then you will learn fast. On my honor, I promise you."

You should've said no to this optional part of the program. All you needed was a job and Lycaon made it clear that there was a sexless version of the program where you'd simply learn the old-fashioned way! No pleasure or sex included but...as your eyes steadily trailed over the thiren, you couldn't deny he was a handsome individual. It wouldn't be unpleasant in the slightest to have benefits while completing your training under him. And as you steadily came to that conclusion, your thighs beginning to clench underneath the desk.

The thiren briefly sniffed at the air before he closed his eyes and exhaled. He was as still as a statue for a brief moment before he cleared his throat and offered you a pen from his breast pocket.

"I didn't give you an official answer—"

"Your scent gave me a suggestion." His raspy voice in combination with the sudden feral look in his eyes...you all too quickly shooed away any doubts you may have had before you began to sign away on the line at the bottom of the paper. And once you did, sliding the paper gently back to the wolf, he read over it briefly before he folded it neatly and placed it back into a drawer.

"We shall begin Monday," Lycaon said. "Please be prompt and on-time, I don't tolerate tardiness."

"Yeah, yeah." You scoffed.

And thus, your training as a potential housemaid for the Victorian Housekeeping Company has officially begun.

. . .

| Week One |

You had slept in, you had forgotten to set a timer over the weekend, too engrossed with the fact that you had basically agreed to have sex with Lycaon during your three-week training! The second you arrived home, it was a struggle to not touch yourself to the thought of what he looked like underneath his kept-together appearance.

You imagined he'd be soft to the touch judging by how much fur he had.

Would he be firm with his gaze, demanding you to be perfect even in the heat of the moment? Or would be he gentle and accommodating with you?

No matter how much your body cried out for you to indulge yourself a little, you saved it until you experienced it for yourself.

But right now, as your head was bowed down in apology to the wolfman for making him wait over forty minutes to your first day. You had a strong feeling you wouldn't be experiencing anything pleasurable today. "Once again dude, I am SO sorry!" You said.

"I forgot to set a timer, then I wanted to stop and get some breakfast along the way—"

"Stop," He snapped his jaws with a growl seeming to bubble just underneath the surface, the sight of his fangs making you shudder out of fear and...the slightest hint of excitement.

"First appearances are important, the most important out of any interaction and you sullied it on your first day of training? How do you expect to work for the company with such a flippant attitude?"

"I said sorry—"

"Sorry does not cut it Ms. Y/N. Excusing being a minute or two late is another matter but forty? Punishment is the only fitting way to solve such blatant disregard for other people's time." At those chilling words, Lycaon took a single step toward you before he took your chin into his hand, his eyes scanning over your nervous form with a critical gaze before he eventually sighed.

"I have a punishment in mind, please see to it that you are undressed in my office within' five minutes, and be on time."

Your eyes widened to the size of saucers before you huffed defiantly. "I'm not doing that!" You yelled.

His ear flicked, to him? You sounded like an impudent child, screaming and doing anything to get out of being scolded by their parent. "No?" He tilted his head.

"No!"

A wolfish smirk crept onto his face. "Every minute you stand here is an additional minute to your punishment Ms. Y/N. Do take care to remember that."

And so, there you stood.

| + | + | + |

You wouldn't be able to claim that he wasn't patient for the entire duration you had a fit about being punished on the first day of training. For about ten whole minutes, you stood there staring at the thiren until you eventually got bored and decided that "your punishment wouldn't be that bad" and simply went to his office!

You sat on a black couch and waited and when Lycaon came in?

The way he so quickly got his hands on you felt like you were being thrown around by an uncouth beast, a complete switch from the gentlemanly wolf you were talking to just a few minutes ago.

Slap! "Count." He ordered.

"O-One—Ah!"

He tutted his lips with a shake of his head as his hand slapped against your ass again, your maid uniform tugged up to your midsection as he pinned your hands down with his free hand. "Proper communication is most effective when you're speaking clearly Ms. Y/N...also, it's "one, sir"."

Another slap against your red behind rang out in the air, your body jerking forward a little at the movement. "At this rate, you'll never reach fifty." He sighed.

"W-Wait...!" You begged. "J-Just give me a break...so I can c-catch my breath—" When he slowly inched his hand upward again, your eyes widened as you quickly remembered your manners. "S-Sir! J-Just let me catch my breath...please."

If your eyes weren't blurry with tears, your mind getting fuzzier and fuzzier as you tried to ignore the ache in your cunt. You could've sworn you saw his tail move a little. After a minute, however, a sharp gasp left your swollen lips when you felt a finger graze against your sex, the featherlight touch making you shudder as you whipped your head around to look at the Lycaon.

Unconsciously, his tongue poked out to sweep against his upper set of canines as he focused on how your slick oozed out from your pussy so shamelessly. But at the same time? He figured he shouldn't have been shocked at the lewd sight, his keen hearing didn't miss the way a tiny moan would escape your lips at each slap. It was as if you wanted him to keep going and didn't want your punishment to end anytime soon.

Such behavior wasn't befitting of a potential future employee at the company. "Are you done recuperating? If so, then let us continue."

"W-Wait..." You begged. "J-Just a little time- Ah!"

"Now, now—" He pressed his hand down on your wrists a little more, lightly pinching at your thigh with the tip of his claws to calm your squirming. "—If you focus and count Ms. Y/N then your punishment will be over very soon, please remain focused."

After a final warning, he was quick to resume his smacks against your ass. The pain and pleasure eventually blurring into one another enough for your brain to somehow find a way to "center" itself. And, after around twenty minutes...Lycaon finally released you from your bent-over position over his lap and got up.

A lingering rebelliousness in the back of your head wanted to curse out the wolf as he stood, fixing his cuffs until they were neat again as if he wasn't rocking a blatant boner in his trousers! Yet as your mouth began to open as he walked further away...it quickly shut when he started walking back to you after grabbing something from a bookshelf behind his desk.

"What is that?" You asked.

"Aloe cream, it should help with the burn and any burning sensations."

Oh, you thought.

How...nice of him.

At your silence, his head tilted as he sat down next to you. "Are you alright?"

"Huh? Oh, y-yeah...I just wasn't expecting aftercare." You blushed.

"Your work would be even more affected if I didn't do this, I wouldn't want that." Suddenly, your heart skipped a beat.

. . .

| Week Two |

You didn't want to admit it to yourself at the time but you knew full well as to why your heart skipped a beat that day. At first, you tried to joke and claim that you were a masochist starting to bloom! Von Lycaon was handsome, yes but you knew how to distinguish between work and personal lives! Besides, you wanted money more than you did romance and if the latter interfered with your money...you weren't in any shape or form interested in it.

But, at the second week's coming, this week focused on posture if your memory served correctly. You couldn't lie or joke to yourself anymore.

You developed a crush on your future boss.

And it grew harder and harder to deny that fact in your...current position. Naked aside from your short black heels, you were standing right in front of Lycaon with his pants pulled down just enough to reveal his leaking dick. The tip seemed to turn increasingly into an angrier red as you continued to stay frozen in place. "Are you uncomfortable?" Lycaon's words snapped you out of your thoughts before you shook your head.

"N-No sir! It's just..." You went quiet for a second. "How...how is this going to teach me posture?"

"If you would come closer, I will show you." Like a siren's song, the beckoning of his clawed finger made you take small steps forward until you were finally in front of him. "I'll be letting you take control of me for some time," You could've sworn you caught a smirk on his lips at his words. "If you manage to fuck me until I cum with the correct posture then consider your training done, and welcome to your new job as a new maid to the Victorian Housekeeping company. I'll be generous and not even include the third week of training."

"But—" As his hand found its way to your hips, he gently tugged you forward until he slowly maneuvered you to straddle him on his lap, his cock throbbing against your stomach as beads of sweat started to appear at the back of your neck. He reached the middle of your stomach, easily! And that wasn't even considering his girth. "—If your posture fails, you will unfortunately stick to the original training program. And I must warn you, most do not manage to get through week three."

You jumped a little when you felt Lycaon's hand move down to your pussy. "What are you doing?" You voiced out shakily, your clit throbbing at Lycaon's touch as one finger alone was enough to cover your entire clit.

"Preparing you of course," He said with an "obviously" tone. "No matter how much I can smell your eagerness in the air—" A sharp moan escaped your lips when his finger started to slowly move, your cheeks burning at the fact you let out such a noise from such little stimulation. "—I doubt you will be able to fully take me without a little prep."

"Y-You..." You bit your tongue to keep a curse from flying out, your hands quickly moving to his shoulders as you tried to ground yourself and not lose yourself too quickly to the pleasure. A task that you were quickly failing at as you felt a knot slowly begin to form in the pit of your stomach, scorching hot tears brimming your eyes as a single line of drool fell from the corner of your lips.

And Lycaon was enjoying every second of it.

If he were to be honest with himself.

He didn't want you to succeed this time.

After having so much fun with you last week, he would say that he had gotten a bit greedy. As entertaining as it was to tame your bratty behavior and mold it into something more palpable as someone who would be interacting with clients often, it was torture all the same to him to not shut you up with his cock instead! It wasn't enough to rut into his hand at the end of every day, heated pants leaving his lips as his tongue lulled out of his mouth like some common dog begging for a slip of meat.

To say that it was unbecoming of him to set you up for failure was an understatement, rubbing your needy bud until you nearly squirted on him wouldn't make you last very long when you were actually seated on his cock. And as cruel as it was for him to say...how unbecoming and un-gentlemanly it was...

He was so fucking eager for you to fail.

"S-Sir..." His ears perked to your whining as your head fell his chest, his ears then moving to the sound of lewd squelching coming from your pussy. "Please...I-I'm so close..." You whined.

He allowed himself to play with you a minute longer until...he took his finger away.

He struggled to withhold a laugh at your state, your eyes seeming to be confused and stuck between wanting to glare angrily at him or beggingly like a wanton whore for him to continue. "Don't look like that," He said. "If I were to make you cum now, you would be too shaky to fuck me."

You were too shaky now.

But, you'd first kiss the seat of a toilet lid before admitting defeat.

"I-I won't fail this..." You said with determination, although breathlessly.

His tail wagged ever so slightly at your determination. "We shall see," He responded before he relaxed against the couch with a deep sigh. "Please begin at your leisure Ms. Y/N." When you took him into your hand, you felt a surge of confidence at Lycaon's not-so-quiet sharp inhale of breath. You prayed that he was just as needy as you because as you lined him up to your entrance and started to slid him into you, every inch that sunk further into you made your mouth gap wider and wider until you were certain you looked like a gasping fish.

He rubbed against your walls so nicely too, his girth stretching you out just enough to where it made you drool as it touched spots inside of you that you hadn't had a clue existed until today!

"F-Fuckkkkk..." You moaned out once you were fully seated on him.

You sucked your bottom lip into your mouth, desperately trying to ignore that burning feeling in your core as you began to move.

"Shit." Oh, how you just wanted to just shove a hand over his snout to keep him from letting out such sexy noises. His raspy voice and the way his thumbs rubbed encouraging circles into your hips...it wasn't good for you. You'd cum faster at this rate.

"Faster," Lycaon suddenly ordered, opening one of his red eyes to look at you.

"I...I can't- Oh!" Your words caught in your throat when he suddenly fucked up into you. A squeal nearly leaving your throat as you shut your eyes tightly to try and force back that urge to cum.

"Disobeying a superior now Ms. Y/N?" One of his hands slowly dragged up your back before it gently shoved you forward a little. Immediately, you fixed your posture although you nearly fell back over a couple of times. "You should watch yourself, my type of punishment for this act won't be very fun."

You doubted that.

But, as your hands tightened on his shoulders and you fucked yourself more quicker onto him. Tears started to flow down your cheeks more easily as you couldn't deny the burning feeling in your stomach anymore, how the way Lycaon's dick throbbed inside of you and pressed against your most sensitive spots...the urge to beg him for the chance to cum, just once was on the tip of your tongue but you tried to stay focused. "Oh my God..." He moaned deeply.

"Fuckkk..."

"A-Are you close?" You whined.

He scoffed. "Not even close," You felt your hopes nearly crash and shatter at those words. "But...your pussy feels so good on my cock," He praised, his tail thumping against the couch unabashedly as he stared up at you with hooded eyes and a feral gaze. "Perhaps, instead of a maid, you should be my personal breeding toy."

His smirk grew when he felt your pussy tighten around his cock.

"Yeah?" He asked. "You like that?"

You shook your head, shutting your eyes tightly as if not seeing him would help your situation anyway. However, as you felt a furred hand cup the side of your face, the feeling of breaths hitting your face. Your eyes slowly cracked open to the wolf thiren's face right in front of yours, panting and moaning with little to no shame before he smiled. "So pretty like this Y/N..." He said before his leaned down to begin pressing kisses to the side of your neck.

Briefly, the thought of whether or not this was a part of the training flashed in the front of your mind. But...as quick as it came, it was gone. You wanted to believe that...he wasn't following some manual when it came to his actions, that they were meant just for you and you alone. "You're so wet, making so much noise...I think I was right in my earlier suggestion hm? Maybe you will do better as my toy."

You shook your head. "Don't lie." He lightly nipped your shoulder, the sharp sudden pain being just what you needed to throw you over the edge before...Lycaon's ears moved to the sound of gushing and the feeling of wetness splashing against his pants and a bit of his thighs.

Without a second thought, his fingers shot down to gather some of your cum onto his fingers before he tasted you, a groan rumbling out as he almost shocked himself with how fast he got hard again. But before he could mention it, much less suggest it, when Lycaon returned his gaze to you. He saw you passed out against his chest, the very sight making him laugh ever so quietly before he sighed.

He supposed he was feeling a touch bit generous...he expected you to cum within seconds of fucking yourself onto his cock but it took you longer than that! To the point, he actually began to worry about cumming first or not! Although he had a mind not to be, he decided to be generous and forgiving seeing as you fucked him until the point of total exhaustion on your point.

He'd give you a passing A+ for effort.

#zzz #zzzero #zenless zone zero #zenlesszonezero #von lycaon #von lycaon smut #zzz von lycaon #zzz lycaon #von lycaon x reader #von lycaon zzz #von lycaon zenless zone zero #lycaon smut #zzz smut #zenless zone zero smut #zenless zone zero x reader #zzz x reader #smut writing

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megumimania · 6 months ago

Text

art is in his mid 40s, reader is in late 20s/early 30s, smut (18+), p in v sex, choking, art is hungry as fuck, use of petnames. @cindol this one is for you babes!!

“you alright sweetheart?”

his voice is what snaps you out of your writing frenzy.

art’s dressed in a polo and khaki set with his sunglasses on, a glass of bourbon sitting pretty in his left hand. his serving hand. you almost shiver as you remember the way his calloused hands brushed against the small of your back in passing.

he takes the seat next to yours, his knees slightly brushing yours as he peers over your laptop that is covered by post it notes that contain the editors tweaks and suggestions.

for the next ten minutes the only constant sound interrupting his midday zen was the aggressive sound of you hitting the space and backspace button on your laptop.

the sound of your frustration and stress is palpable and before you slam the backspace button again, he breaks the silence.

“you should take a break.” he offers, the concern evident in his voice and for a split second you consider it, toying with it in your mind. but then reality hits and you remember the editor's harsh emails and the final deadline that is just looming around the corner.

“i’d love to but i can’t.” you sighed giving him an apologetic smile, “first draft is due at the end of the week.”

art looked at you confused for a second before he realised what you were talking about. his memoir.

it was why you were here in the first place. you spent weeks on the road with him heading to every conference, game or whatever event he decided to show up to when his team wanted to remind the public he was still very much alive.

he thought it was a stupid idea at first, another cash grab for his management to seep their paws into but art wasn’t having it. the only way they managed to get him to say yes was if they brought an up and coming writer onto the project.

over time your presence was something he had gotten used to, even though you often felt like you were overstepping his boundaries by being in his home so often. you’d then remind yourself that you were contracted on a professional basis, to ghost write his memoir that you’ll be paid for, in both money and notoriety.

but when art woke up to the sound of your footsteps shuffling around in the kitchen or the sound of you typing away on his laptop on the patio, it made the house feel less like an investment and more like a home. after all it had been a couple of years since he’d had a woman stay longer than a night or a couple of hours at his home.

“c’mon you’ve been on that wretched thing all day, your eyes must be killing you huh?” he cajoles, another attempt to get you to hang out with him.

art takes another sip of his drink eyeing you once more, feeling grateful for the little bit of sun the hampshire’s decided to grace you all with today.

his eyes roam over your figure, not for too long though he doesn’t want to creep you out but he’s not blind. you are a stunning woman and he likes that you weren’t blind to that fact.

“you know you wanna, who knows maybe playing a quick tennis match, will get your creative juices flowing.” usually you’d decline but when he stares at you with those baby blues that haven’t dimmed with age, it sends a shiver down your spine.

his eyebrows wiggle, earning a groan from you but you relented, saving the file before closing your laptop and heading back to get changed into more suitable attire. who knows maybe stepping into his domain would help with your writer’s block right now.

tennis with art was not something easy, despite his graceful playing style he was an actual powerhouse on the court and you couldn’t keep up.

“you’re tapping out already?” he grins, whilst you’re too busy catching your breath to respond. all you can muster is a middle finger to which he laughs at.

you realised in the end, that if you were gonna win, you had to resort to dirty tactics.

“god, it is so hot out here!” you said, fanning yourself whilst taking off your jacket to reveal your figure. you based the success rate of this tactic on art being a typical man with desires.

and it worked.

who knew a simple dress would throw art off kilter? his movements grew less refined and more messy as the game progressed, with you throwing him off his a-game. his eyes were glued to your bod, you used this to your advantage as you made the winning serve.

the ball whizzes past art and he is a second too late to hit it back. you drop the racket basking in the sunlight and your newfound victory.

it’s oddly quiet on his front, a professional like him that couldn’t show decent showmanship? it was nothing new in the world of tennis—arrogant athletes who saw accepting defeat as a bruise to their overinflated ego.

however the thoughts stewing in art’s mind cannot be expressed plainly, he drinks you in, an incubus-esque hunger taking over him. the way your body glistened in the sunlight as a light sheen of sweat covered you from head to toe, to the white attire that made you seem heaven sent.

oh he was spiraling.

it wasn’t like he could do casual relationships, he had a few fleeting ones post split with tashi but art’s hunger prevailed where his logic could not. he wasn’t satisfied with a simple night.

underneath that cold yet affable demeanour that he spent years working on and correcting, there was a part of him that required something more deeper, more intense.

“so what’s my reward?” you ask, still up on the high that beating art gave you.

he decides to indulge you in whatever you want—his desires can be suppressed for another day. last time he got you a new laptop for beating him in a game of pool. however he’s taken off guard when he feels your soft lips press against his own, stirring up a pot of desire in him that cannot be contained.

so when you end up on his plush bed with him above you, your dress bunched up to your stomach as he fucks you relentlessly without pause, you’re in bliss. the sounds of art’s gold medals, clinking against your stomach with each thrust sends shivers down your spine, the cool metal against your skin driving you insane.

art thinks you’re beautiful like this, all splayed out for him to see, adorned with several of his gold medals, that he has won in several championships like wimbledon and the us open. he knows he’s being mean, bullying your sweet cunt like this but he can’t help it.

he pulls you in by his medals dangling across your chest forcing you to look at the mess you’re making on his dick. “keep your eyes open sweetheart, i want you to see the mess you’re making.” he tells you, his voice smoother than his favourite bottle of bourbon.

you’re lost in it all, your mind reeling like a roll of film as he ruts into you like an animal in heat. he unleashes a slew of moans and groans against your ear, the vibrations driving you closer to your release.

“a-art, ‘s too much i can’t take it.” was all you managed to get out, a mangled sob escaping your lips.

in spite of your brain getting turning into mush each time art hit that sweet spot that set you alight. he looks down at you with a wicked grin, his voice taking on a faux sympathetic tone.

he pressed a kiss to your neck, maintaining his pace. “winner takes all, sweetheart.” he says with a chilling edge, that makes you clench around him as he buries himself deeper into you, stretching you out even more as he peppers kisses to your neck, leaving bites and hickeys that were sure gonna sting tomorrow.

and from the way things were going, it was safe to say that you weren’t completing that manuscript anytime soon.

not while art had you in his grasp anyway.

#art donaldson x reader #art x reader #art x you #art donaldson x you #art donaldson x black!reader #art donaldson fic #art donaldson #challengers #vina writes: misc #vina writes #art is lowkey fucked #challengers fic

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oscquinn · 6 months ago

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EVENTUALLY, lip gallagher (mkverse)

follow up oneshot to borderline, lip x bfs!reader (nickname, Mk)

TAGS & WARNINGS → NSFW 18+. smut!! making out, clothed grinding, lip cumming in his pants, f receiving oral. idiots in a situationship type deal 🤭

CHAPTER SUMMARY → the inner workings of your relationship with lip simmer, coming to a boil one night after his baseball game.

A/N → thank you so much for all the love on this series!! now you get to read about mk and lip getting down and dirty in a honda civic

WC → 2.4k

Summer has always been your favorite time of year. No school, shining sun, as many hours spent laying in the sun as you wanted. With Lip headed halfway across the country in a few short months, you were determined to make this the best summer of your teen years. Of course you were aided by a drivers liscense, working car, and two fake ID’s.

You and Lip roam the city, Fiona doesn’t seem to mind since Lip turned eighteen, but your own parents scold the both of you enough to get the full experience. They do it out of love, you know.

Lip kisses you often. His hands explore under your shirt, below your skirt, everywhere you want him to touch and nowhere at all, in the same moment. He joins a local summer ball league, playing at an old minor league stadium on the Northside. You go to as many of his games as you can, the tickets are dirt cheap and your regular paychecks from the movie theater plus some extra cash for babysitting keep you stable. You still squirrel money away for the upcoming year, but fresh out of high school all you want is your first taste of true freedom.

On the fourth of July you dress up in tight jean shorts and a loose flowing tank top in a deep shade of red. Two dark blue ribbons hold your hair in dorothy style braids which you nestle under a Chicago Cubs ballcap. Lipstick on and assets flaunted, you hop in your car and head to the field.

Lip plays good, he always says you're his lucky charm, but he’s the one who led his high school team to a state championship. You know it isn’t luck. You don’t mind when he says it, though, especially when he talks about you to his teammates.

“Yeah man, my lucky charm right here,” Lip calls out to Torres, his closest friend on the team. He smacks an exaggerated kiss to your cheek, drawing a giggle from your lips before he opens the drivers side door for you.

Torres laughs, then teases Lip, “yeah? She y’r girl, or y’r chauffeur?”

You laugh at that one as well, slipping into the seat. Lip leans into your space for a second, “get comfy baby girl, m’kay?” You nod in response, eyes a little starry, and he kisses you quickly. A moment later the door is shut, you can half hear him talking to Torres, but you don’t pay him any mind. Your eyes focus on the mirror on your sun visor. You apply a vanilla coconut lip balm, knowing he’ll kiss you when he sits down.

And he does, sliding into the passenger seat. He only takes a moment to close the door before he’s in your space, one hand on the plush of your thigh and the other cupping the back of your neck. He looks so good sitting there across from you, curls wild and messy. When he kisses you, you find yourself climbing across the center and into his lap.

“Woah, hey there,” he says with a devilish grin. You get straight to the point. grinding your hips against his. His mouth falls slack, one hand resting on your hip as the other brushes gently under your shirt. You kiss that stupid look right off his face.

That gets him going. His hand travels upwards to squeeze your breast over your bra. “Soft,” he mumbles, palming you with needy hands. One finger rolls around your nipple, then his other hand slides from your neck down to your ass. He guides your hips over his own, through your jean shorts you can feel the hardening outline of his dick, the length of it pressing into you. “Fuck—yeah, MK—shit,” he lets out a groan when you press harder against him.

“We—we shouldn’t be—oh!” You yelp when his fingers dive below your shorts, you’d barely noticed him fumbling with the button.

His teeth caress your neck, fingers resting against your pussy. Fuck, you wish he’d gone into your panties already. “Whatever y��wanna do, ‘kay?” he reassures you gently.

You nod, fingers gripping his wrist. You can’t let him touch you like that, not yet. You can’t get too attached. “Kiss me again,” you say breathlessly. Barely a beat passes before his lips are on your own.

Lip draws his hand from your panties, both palms landing on the curve of your ass. “This okay?” he asks quietly, soft breath fanning against your lips.

“More than okay,” you mumble, kissing him again. Your tongue presses past his lips to lick against him, whining into his mouth. The kiss is hot, it’s heavy, and you find yourself rolling your hips against his in a desperate, needy fashion. When Lip groans in response, you know you’re doing something right.

His hands leverage you against his body, his dick pressing againt the zipper of his jeans. “Fuck, tha’s it,” he encourages as you press your chest against his own. One greedy hand lifts the fabric, his lips pressing to the tops of your breasts where they spill over from your bra. He noses into the soft skin, unable to resist sucking a soft bruise into the flesh.

You feel so disconnected from reality, the thoughts and worries that you shouldn’t be grinding on your best friend like this flown out the window. His hands caress your body, tracing every soft and supple place he can find purchase in. With one hand in his messy curls you pull him up for another kiss. You press your hips down harder and a needy whine escape your lips.

Lip’s hands squeeze your waist, humming with a cocky smirk. “You like that, huh?”

“You like that,” you quip back, your hand moving between your bodies to rub at his aching cock. The sound that follows is desperate, heady, punched out of his throat like he’s never been touched before. You wonder how long it’s been since he had someone like this, how long he’s been waiting for you. You wonder… “Have y’been thinking of me?” you ask quietly, kissing from his neck up to his ear. You continue in a sultry whisper, “when you touch yourself?”

You can’t believe the sight, your face pressed close to his own while he nods eagerly. “All the time, a-all the fuckin’ time, Mk please,” he whines.

Barely a breath passes before you seal your lips to his own, grinding your hips down. “I think about it too. Think about us,” you whisper between messy kisses.

It sends him over the edge. Your lips on his own, tits pressed to his chest, warm cunt grinding down on his dick. He can’t believe you’re real. His thighs shake as he cums in his boxers. A string of apologies follows, “fuck, ‘m sorry, s-sorry,” he. stammers out.

You kiss him through it, mouth slowing to a gentler pace as your tongues tangle. Warm hands trail up and down your back, and when he catches his breath he begins to kiss down your throat. He maneuvers himself away from your lap and leaves a sloppy trail of kisses down your sternum, lifts your shirt so he can kiss your stomach, then his face rests between your thighs.

“What’re y’doin–oh, ohmygod–Lip!” You whimper as he licks a stripe up the center of your panties.

“Repayin’ the favor, he mumbles against your pussy. He adjusts himself in his messy boxers, then two strong hands are gripping your thighs. Lip fucking Gallagher is looking up at you through his lashes, mouth pressed to your hot center. “Say no, right now, an’ I won’t go any further. I promise.”

You think about it, try to weigh the consequences, but your mind is so hazy with need.“Fuck, Lip. Take ‘em off,” you whine, “please—”

That’s all you have to say. Your black thong pools by your ankles, Lip tries to pocket them but you kick him lightly, “cut that out, y’freak,” you tease. Though, the idea does get you a bit hot and bothered. But god would that be uncomfortable in jeans.

“Another time,” he mumbles against your thigh, and your heart flutters.

Another time? You don’t have time to dwell on it, white hot pleasure searing through your body as he laps messily at you. His nose bumps against your clit and draws a sweet whimper from your mouth, hands flying to his curls. You tug on the soft strands while Lip wastes no time flicking his tongue over your sensitive clit.

Your eyes flutter closed, back arching involuntarily. Your core presses to his face, and you feel him smirk against you. “You like that, huh?” he asks with a cocky tone, kissing your thigh for a moment as he catches his breath. You can only nod in response, as one of his thick fingers slides inside you.

“F-fuck, yeah, ‘s’good,” you babble, tugging sharply on his hair when he bites your thigh. The action pulls a broken moan from him, the sound vibrating against your center. He’s so close, one finger slowly crooking up inside you, breath fanning over your pussy. “Please, ‘m close,” you whine pathetically. God, this is humiliatingly hot.

“Yeeaaahhh,” he murmurs, drawing out the word while his fingers speed up. He’s added a second now, his lips attached to your puffy clit. He laps from you like a man starved, the coil in your core winding tighter with every second.

This is… fuck. It’s so much better than you’d imagined. You often wished your pleasure was drawn from his own fingers, not your own. Your daydreams and delusions were right, his thick digits feel like heaven. Little do you know, the sounds you’re making are Lip’s own heaven.

He pairs every thrust of his fingers with a swirl of his tongue, drawing the prettiest moans from your parted lips, painted cherry red. Oh how he’d love to see that hue smeared at the base of his cock, your cheeks flushed and eyes teary. Lip has to focus again on you, chasing down your high to keep his dick from making a second appearance.

“C’mon, c’mon Mk,” he grunts into your pussy. You’re messy, fucking dripping for him, he could bust right then and there. Theres a desperation in the way he laps at you, his sounds almost whines.

A burst of your arousal floods his tongue, your fingers grip his hair so hard it stings, but Lip doesn’t mind. Your sounds are like music to him. He withdraws his fingers and pushes the muscle of his tongue inside you, lapping up every drop like it’s nectar, and when he’s finished he rests his head on your thigh and simply stares. You’re so beautiful in his eyes–chest heaving, thighs parted for him–a picture perfect Goddess, a woman after his own heart.

He kisses the softness of your stomach before maneuvering himself over to the driver’s seat. “Guess I should drive you home, least I can do since y’made me cum in my pants and all.” You flush at his words, still awestruck at the orgasm he’d given you. “Y’with me, MK?”

You manage to breathe in, pulling your shorts and underwear up from where they’re pooled at your ankles. You fasten the zipper and button with trembling hands, “y-yeah, get me home Gallagher. I need a cold shower.”

He chuckles at that, cranks the engine and puts the car into reverse. Somewhere down the road while stopped at a red light Lip turns to you, fingers resting under your chin. “You’re all sticky,” you gripe, and duck away from him.

“Ah, quit that, ‘ve got you all over me,” he leans over with a smirk, and you can’t say no when he kisses you. You taste your own arousal on his tongue, and his hand massages your thigh gently. A green glow interrupts the moment, and Lip puts his hands back on the wheel as you continue towards home. “Hey uh, y’wanna go to ihop?”

“You’re fucking joking,” you say, the words followed with an incredulous laugh while you look over at him. Lip looks dead serious though, one eyebrow raised in question. He begins to smirk when you stammer out, “j-jeez, let me shower first. I guess you did work up my appetite.”

The light turns green, and Lip howls with laughter as he presses the gas.

After separate showers—much to Lip’s disapproval—and a shared plate of bottomless pancakes, you sit across from each other at a small booth crammed in the back corner of the crowded ihop. Lip smiles as he tears one end of the wrapper off his unused straw. He blows the rest of the paper at you, earning him your signature glare. You can’t help but laugh too, admiring the pretty pink blush on his cheeks.

“So uh, ‘ve been thinkin’ about some things,” he says after your giggles calm down.

“Uh oh,” you tease. “What’s up?”

Lip fiddles with the strings of his hoodie, avoiding your gaze for a moment, then looks up at you with those icy blue eyes. “I’m not gonna go to MIT.”

Your eyes widen, “w-what do you mean? It’s perfect for you, and you—”

He cuts you off, shaking his head. “Too far, I wanna be closer to home. That way I can chip in with the bills, watch the kids, y’know.”

You’re in disbelief, your stomach churning. “Lip, you were given a once in a lifetime scholarship. Why would you give that up?”

Lip shrugs, “I got the same kinda thing here. Figured it’d be good to stay in the city, help out Fiona.” He looks down before continuing, “and it’ll be nice to have you ‘round too, yeah? Both of us at UChi?” Your heart flutters when he looks up again, gauging your reaction.

You put on a smile, covering all the conflicting emotions that swirl inside you. You’re happy for him, and you tell him that. Happy to have him around. Right?

You offer to drive, so you won’t fidget with the weight of your nerves. The ride home is fairly quiet, the only noises coming from the radio. Lip kisses you again by your door, hands flirting with the hem of your top but never quite going under.

“Hey,” you murmur curiously, pushing him back just slightly. You bring your arms up to his shoulders, and duck backwards when he tries to kiss you again. You have to hold back a giggle when his needy lips brush your jaw. “What’re we doing,” you ask softly.

He shrugs, that infuriating grin on his face. “We’re friends MK, like we’ve always been.”

“Friends with benefits,” you correct.

“Yes ma’am. Friends who kiss,” my murmurs, lips sealing over your own. “Maybe even, friends who fuck, huh?” He scoffs at the playful shove you give him.

“Good night,” you say firmly as you unlock your front door. He gives a two fingered salute before jogging off across the street. You sigh, closing your door behind you. It’s been coming for a while now. You might as well let it happen.

THX 4 READING → beta'd by @carmybrainworms :))

LET IT HAPPEN → coming soon

#lip gallagher x reader #lip gallagher smut #lip gallagher fluff #lip gallagher imagine #lip gallagher fanfic #written by maggie [fics]#wild & fluorescent [mkverse]

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njstokkis · 4 months ago

Text

dream

huh yunjin x gn!reader

synopsis: yunjin headcanons <3

word count: 600~

warnings: fluff; really really short oh lawd; yunjin being kind of chaotic; this is low-key self-indulgent oops; author is lonely on valentines day so they're writing this to cope; just random yunjin thoughts; not proofread at all so if there's errors I'm sorry ㅠㅠㅠ

a/n: i don't think I've mentioned but english is NAWT my first language 😭 pls go easy on me (go whattt???) also, tysm for the support on the last fic???? omg i wasn't expecting so much but i really appreciate y'all interacting, it makes my day!!! I'll try my best to write more in the future, thank you in advance for reading!!

• physical touch is a BIG thing in the relationship, this girl genuinely can't stand a second without touching you. PDA queen.

• you're working? she's plopping down on your lap or sitting next to you.

• you're going out? trust me, she's gonna be all up over you, (with discressions in case of paparazzi of course) holding your hand, wrapping an arm around your waist, showing EVERYONE you're hers.

• you're going to the bathroom? hey, it's her again, this time she's literally holding your hand outside of the door as you do your business. she's just like a puppy. (puppy yunjin soon????????)

• she doesn't care whether if it's the smallest touches, (although she'd much rather be stuck and molded to you everyday), she just needs to feel that you're next to her. like linking your pinkies together, thigh touches, hugs, cuddles, whatever works honestly.

•this girl LOVES pet names

• yunjin's favorite to use is probably jagi (love) or baby, and you'd fawn everytime she says it. (real)

• she'd say it so casually too, like answering your calls or responding to a question etc, etc.

"hey darling, you okay?"

"oh, baby, be careful!"

"of course, my love, anything for you." (she proceeds to exaggeratedly wink and throw up finger guns, biggest dork ever)

• even before you got in a relationship, she'd still called you petnames from time to time, and you'd discreetly try to hide your face, trying to not let her know you're down bad for her as she teases you. like UGHHHHHHHHHHH. (sorry)

• remember when I said dork?

• yea so

• dorkdorkdorkdorkdorkdorkdor-

• like she strikes me as the type to be able to talk about her interests for HOURS on end, to the point where you have to forcefully make her shut up (wink wink). jk you can't, she just starts back up again after a while.

• probably forces you to watch documentaries on jellyfish and explain the facts further so you understand better

• you pretend to hate it but come on...it's yunjin, so you just roll your eyes with a small smile and pretend to be annoyed while you listen to her rant

• oh you bet your ass you're spoiled ROTTEN when y'all go out.

• she'd give you her card and be like, "take your pick, my love."

• like GIRLIE???

• she'd take you out to dinner dates and secluded fancy restaurants, and she'd pay for every single one of them.

• literally slaps your hand away when you offer your cash or card, and gets upset cuz the AUDACITY of you to think that you had to pay when SHE'S the one taking you out??? lunacy.

• SO many inside jokes.

• like people literally look at y'all so weird, cuz wtf do you mean there's these bitches howling; doubled over even; in hysterical laughter in isle three????

• you're her muse, like need i say more.

•she loves to just whip out her notebook and start writing random lyrics when you guys hang out, or spend time together. her creativity just flows so much better with you, at least according to her.

• she'd be the type to serenade you randomly, like you just woke up and you'd just see her sitting on your bedside, guitar in hand, her phone propped up on her thigh, idly scrolling. her eyes lighting up as she notices you slowly wake, quickly getting her guitar in position.

"y-yunjin...? what are you doing..."

"but iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii caaaan't helpppp falling in loooooovvveeeeee withhhhh youuuuuuu~"

"baby, it's...7 a.m."

• overall, she's the cutest dork and you love her to death for that.

#le sserafim x reader #le sserafim imagines #huh yunjin #yunjin #huh yunjin imagines #huh yunjin x reader #kpop imagines #njstokkis' writing

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wallysletterman · 5 days ago

Note

Your requests are open and I'm in my Milo phase baby! So the idea is that he comes into your job and you work at a convenience store or something. Sees you for the first time and he decides he needs you bad! He keeps coming back, you get to know each other, dates, kissy kissy, fluff.

know you

pairing: milo manheim x reader

word count: 4.0k (it’s a long one 🫣)

warnings: none, kinda slow burn :3

a/n: this was so cute!! i had so much fun writing this! 😭 i hope you love it <333 p.s. thank you for waiting ilyyy (p.p.s. pretend reader only knows milo from zombies)

this job was nothing special. it was merely a way to earn extra cash as you were juggling busy student life. you never meant for it to mean anything in the grand scheme of things. it was a small coffee shop in the heart of the city, Mugged. it was tucked away on a side street, simply unnoticable.

the job became monotonous. you had a routine and you stuck to it. making the same drinks over again, you don't expect much to change.

until he walked in.

milo was thrilled when he found out he had booked Little Shop. a new city with new faces was just what he needed in his life right now. and, unbeknownst to you both, the apartment he currently resided in was just five minutes away from your shop.

so many chances to run into each other.

with early call times, long rehearsals, and late nights spent with fellow cast mates, milo most definitely needed his morning coffee to feel some semblance of normal. and it was on his way into rehearsal when we stumbled upon the shop.

this morning, you found yourself caught in a rush. you were taking an older gentleman’s order when it happened. you heard the ringing of the small bell above the doorway. on instinct, you glance over, thinking it was just another customer. but as you took a second glance to greet him, you found it was milo. holy shit, you thought, nearly dropping the coffee of the customer as you caught his eyes.

he offered you a small smile, nodding his head in acknowledgment.

he’s even cuter in person.

after having to snap yourself out of it, you greeted him like he was any other customer. it’s the least you could do for him.

as milo patiently waited his turn, you had to mentally prepare yourself not to embarrass yourself. you saw his brown eyes scan over the menu, your stomach turning in anticipation. he was making it hard to pay attention to your work.

after servicing a nice, middle aged woman, it was milo’s turn. your heart literally skipped a beat as he took a step toward. he was clad in a simple button up and levi’s. god he’s perfect. please don’t fuck this up.

"how are you today?'" you ask in a composed but cheery tone, opposite of what you were feeling inside. you gave him your best smile.

“i’m good, thank you.” he takes a second to stare at you. he seemed surprised at the question. you felt small under his gaze as you smoothed out your apron, a nervous tick you’d picked up since working here. he was gorgeous.

“what can i get for you?” you gather yourself, a smile still on your lips. his eyes linger on you for a second longer before answering. “um how about a medium roast, with a splash of milk and three sugars please,” he offered you a smile.

a simple guy.

“easy, i like it.” you say, giving him the slightest wink.

you were mortified as soon as you let it slip. oh my god. he for sure thinks you’re weird now. you cursed internally at yourself as you typed his order into the system.

you hear him let out a soft chuckle. it instantly stopped all negative thoughts flowing through your mind. his laugh somehow made everything bad go away.

“for milo, right?” you break your silence.

his eyes meet yours, a playful smile on his face and he responds with, “yes, milo. how did you know?”. his voice was full of surprise.

not wanting to come off too creepy, you playfully lie with, “i had a hunch,”. you were thankful your customer service skills pulled through, avoiding an awkward exchange.

he laughed again. you could swear time stopped. he was gorgeous and he was here and he was standing right in front of you, laughing at your joke.

you made his drink with nerves, glancing over at him every couple seconds. he gave you a smile each time. he was so cute.

after handing him his drink, he said a simple, “have a good day, y/n.”. you thought you saw him wink. you were left speechless as he walked out the door. milo manheim knew your name.

you couldn’t help but fan girl to your coworkers the rest of the day. “and he said my name!” was repeated by you multiple times for the rest of your shift. you couldn’t believe how charming he is in real life. i mean sure, you’ve seen his interviews, but it was much different when he’s standing right in front of you. much more captivating. and his laugh was your absolute favorite.

but you couldn’t help but feel a twinge of sadness at the thought of never seeing him again. you were grateful for the interaction you had had with him, but something about him drew you in. the only thing you could do was go home to the thought of just how sweet of a human milo really is.

you weren’t scheduled to open the next morning, but your coworker made the sound of extra money and the promise of lunch on them sound too good to pass up. you, of course, picked up her shift.

the morning was slower than usual. but, of course, your regulars came in. you enjoyed days like these. it was the quiet you needed when your mind buzzed with all the tasks you had to do that week. the voices of a few customers and the soft hum of some the 1975 song was all that ran through the coffee shop. you could really love your job sometimes.

and, as it always does, the familiar ringing of the bell caught your attention as you were wiping down the counter. it was milo. you felt your heart flutter and your palms moistened. he was dressed in a simple black tee and grey sweatpants. he looked so cozy with his fluffy hair. you swore he got even more handsome.

“hey,” you say, letting the word drag out. you hoped it sounded flirty. you were more confident today and wanted to try your luck. you had spent just a little longer on your hair this morning, hoping milo would walk through those doors. you were so glad your morning self did.

“hello,” he responds excitedly. he takes off his sunglasses, wanting to see all of you. he knew what he was doing. you try to act as nonchalant as you could muster as he approached the counter. his eyes took you in, even more than yesterday.

was milo manheim checking you out?

you had to push that thought aside, reminding yourself you were here to work. as much as you wanted to check him out yourself. you couldn’t shake the feeling he gave you.

“how are you today, milo?” you say, genuinely meaning it. he felt familiar already. “i’m doing good,” he trails off for a second. he smirks as he eyes your figure. “y/n,” he finally finishes. you never knew your name could sound so pretty. you offer him a smile.

“you have a beautiful name by the way,” he adds. you couldn’t help but feel your cheeks flush. milo called your name beautiful. is this real?

“thank you,” you mumble slightly. you tilt your head down ever so slightly, embarrassed he may find you blushing.

“what can i get for you?” you break your silence. he was so good at making you lose composure.

“let’s do the medium roast again. i had to come back for more.” he says, a hint of playful in his voice. the look he gave you couldn’t help but make you think he was talking about more than just coffee.

“you got it.” you replied, matching his smirk. the tension between you was unmistakable.

and that’s how it went for the next week or so. playful remarks to each other, longing glances when you were making his coffee, and small touches as you handed him his cup that sent fire through you.

but you couldn’t let yourself humor the thought of him liking you. how could he? you were sure there were plenty of people in his life he had his eye out for. you were just some barista working in a coffee shop. there was not much special about that. you felt extra ordinary.

as much as you fawned over him, you kept your delusions to yourself. you couldn’t let yourself think that those little moments were anything to get excited for. you wouldn’t let yourself get hurt.

it’s been a week since your last opening shift. that meant, unfortunately for you, no hoping milo profess his undying love for you. it was fine though. you merely brushed off your encounters as nothing more than playful conversation. but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss milo.

it was a chilly saturday night in new york city. your plans tonight consisted of nothing more than snuggling up on your couch to watch your favorite rom-com. that was until your best friend messaged you. she had gotten tickets to the opening night of Little Shop of Horrors. she had and extra ticket and didn’t want to go alone. who were you to say no to a fun night out?

you were full of excitement on your way to the theatre. you hadn’t heard who would be playing the lead roles, you were simply along for the ride. and being with your bestie was an added bonus.

during the opening scene, you were pleasantly surprised to see Liz Gillies playing Audrey. she embodied the character perfectly as she sang across the stage. she was absolutely lovely.

then milo came stumbling out, dropping potted plants as Seymour. your jaw fell to the floor.

you had to contain yourself as you watched the show unfold. it was a treat to see milo in his element. everything about him was enchanting. you constantly found yourself looking for him, even during scenes he wasn’t in.

he was your Seymour.

it was during curtain call, when your friend informed you about stage door. your stomach was in knots at the thought of seeing milo again. you could hardly wait.

after finding your way out to stage door, you huddled close to other fans, wanting to find an escape from cold weather.

after a while, the door opened to reveal a happy milo. everyone was buzzing with excitement as milo worked his way down the line of fans. they were so polite. you could tell milo appreciated every single one of them.

you felt like throwing up as milo worked his way down to you. you guys were the last in line. you were made of nerves at this point.

it was when milo was standing in front of five fans ahead of you when he noticed you. his entire face lit up even more than it was. he waved at you hurriedly, shouting your name. he was happy to see you. you chuckled to yourself at how cute he was being. he kept sneaking glances at you as he was talking to the people beside you.

after talking for a couple minutes with the girl next to you, he was finally in front of you.

“y/n,” he drags out the last half of your name in the cutest tone ever. “hey milo,” you say, anxiety now gone. you quickly introduce your friend. she was left speechless at how familiar you two were.

“you were amazing, milo” you tell him, genuinely. a tint of red washes over his cheeks. you made milo manheim flustered.

“oh my god, thank you. it means a lot coming from you.” he responds, sincerity in his voice. even under the dim light of the street lamp, his eyes sparkle. you couldn’t get enough of him.

“can i give you a hug?” he asks, completely catching you off guard. “of course,” you say quickly.

he wraps his arms tightly around your waist, lifting you up slightly. you let out a small squeal, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. both of you in a fit of giggles.

he gently sets you down before talking to your friend. he was so attentive to everyone. you tried your hardest to gain your composure as they talked. he made you dizzy.

“thank you guys so much for coming,” he blows you guys kisses as he steps away. “i’ll see you later, yeah?” he nods at you, smirking as he walks off into the car.

your friend was left speechless as you both stood there, watching him drive off into the night. needless to say, she had lots of questions for you on the walk home.

with a little convincing of your manager, you were able to be scheduled for morning shifts from now on. you didn’t mind starting your day early if it meant you could see milo.

and see milo you did.

“the usual?” you ask milo as he walks up to the counter, excited to talk to him. “um actually,” he hesitates, hand coming up to the back of his head. “i wanted to ask you something.” his eyes are full of timidity.

“anything,” you respond, unsure of what he could possibly ask. “i wanted to know if you would like to go out with me.” he says shyly.

your heart dropped as you took in his words. in no universe were you expecting him to say that. he wanted you. and you were sure of it now. it was simultaneously the best and scariest feeling in the world.

silence hung in the air as you tried to gather your thoughts.

“you don’t have to,” he trails off, chuckling in embarrassment. “i’d love to,” you say breathlessly.

“okay,” the words escape him quick. “okay, um how about i swing by after your shift?” he says, flicking his eyes to his hands as a nervous tick.

“oh um,” you think. as much as you wanted to, you didn’t want to be seen with him in your stained work clothes. deciding to tell him what’s on your mind, you say “you don’t mind me wearing this?”

“oh, not at all!” he says, not wanting to hurt your feelings. “im just really excited to take you out if we’re being honest.” he smiles down at the ground.

he’s the sweetest.

“okay!” you exclaim. you can’t believe it.

“okay cool,” he tries to say as nonchalantly as he can, failing miserably. you laugh.

“i’ll see you later then?” he asks, walking away, light on his feet.

“yes, at 3.”

“i can’t wait”

you quickly went through your end of day routine. you were eager to be with milo. all day, you spent daydreaming about all the conversations and laughs you would have with him. you couldn’t wait to see what this had in store for you.

you were putting up your apron as milo walked in. he reminded you of a puppy, barely containing his excitement. you could so see yourself with him, no doubt about it.

“hi,” you greet him, your cheeks hurting from how hard you’re smiling. he matches you. “hi,” he says gently, pulling you in for a hug. he lingers his hands on your waist for a moment before pulling away, sending shivers down your spine. everything about him felt good.

“ready?” he asks. “for you, always.”

he grabs your hand, making sure you were okay with it before doing so. such a gentleman.

“where are we headed?” you ask as you walk out the coffee shop doors. you’d ran through every scenario during work, wondering which one milo had landed on.

“someplace that has become very important to me these past couple weeks,” he says, pondering slightly. “sounds big,” you respond, eager to see where he takes you.

you walk down familiar streets hand in hand. there was no need to fill the silence as you walked. you fell into a routine with him already. everything about you two was comfortable.

you began to recognize the buildings as the ones from opening night. was he taking you to the theatre?

before you could ask, milo had started running across the street to the small building. you laugh as you try to keep with with his long stride.

“we’re here,” he says, squeezing your hand gently as he came to a stop. you were right, you were standing in front of the theatre. “what are we doing here, mi?” you ask, not giving a second thought to the nickname. he noticed though. it made him smile.

without answering your question, he opens the glass door to the front entrance. “let’s find out,” he responds.

the familiar scent of the theatre was comforting as you walked in. as you waited for milo to follow behind you, you gazed at all the posters of the shows held there before.

milo, once again taking your hand, opened a set of doors for you leading into the auditorium. it was just as it was those few days ago, only empty.

darkness filled the room. the dark chilled you as you held on to milo’s arm for reassurance. the only light in the room came from a singular bulb, the ghost light. “watch your step,” milo says softly as you walk down the steps of the aisle.

milo stops as you reach the stage. he jumps up onto it, letting out a small grunt. offering his hand to you, you follow his actions.

you take a moment to take it all in. it was so cool to put yourself in the actor’s shoes, to see what they could see. imagining the crowd cheering you on for doing what you love most was overwhelming. you could understand why milo loves this.

“what do you think?” he asks. you turn to him, seeing him gesture to the empty aisles. he has a happiness all over his face. this is something he adores and he’s sharing it with you of all people.

“i understand why you love it.” “i knew you would.”

milo takes a seat at the edge of the stage, dangling his long legs over. you follow him.

“i thought i’d take you here to show you the most vulnerable part of me right now,” he looks over at you, offering his hand. you take it. he starts to gently play with your fingers as he continues, “i figured i’d show you all of me all at once, show you where i pour my heart out every night. i don’t want to hide from you. i thought this was a good a place as any to show you the real me.”

you couldn’t find the words. he was so good and complex and everything you wanted. “mi,” you start.

but before you could finish, milo’s hand comes up to your chin. moving it gently towards his face, he flicks his eyes from yours to your lips. you were dreaming. you had to be.

the look in his eyes was desperate, he needed you. and you weren’t going to keep him waiting any longer.

you leaned in first, bringing your hand up to find his hair. everything about him was intoxicating from his scent to his touch. he was the one to close the gap.

his lips were soft, tasting a bit like cherry. they fit so perfectly against yours, you swear you were made with each other in mind.

milo brings his hands down towards your waist, tugging you closer to him. the kiss deepened, his tongue gently parting your lips. you let out a harsh breath as you invite him in. he tasted so good.

but before it could get any more heated, milo pulled away. he put his forehead against yours. he looked at your face lovingly, memorizing every line.

he gives you one more peck before laughing gently, closing his eyes.

“what?” you ask, worried you made a mistake. did he not like it? did he only kiss you just to laugh in your face?

your worried thoughts were soon calmed by his next words, “i really like you,”. your stomach flipped. even after just kissing him, he still made you nervous.

“i really like you, too.” you respond, letting out a chuckle in relief. his eyes meet yours, hand coming up to brush the hair from your face. his touch is so gentle. “if you’d like,” he starts. “i would really love to get to know you better.”

his voice made you weak. you couldn’t believe the words coming out his mouth. you hope that you don’t wake up and realize all of this is nothing.

aware of your silence, milo continues, “i know it might all be too much too soon, but i have a feeling you’re different. and i don’t want to let you get away.”

you shut him up by wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him in for another kiss.

“is that a yes?”

it’s been a month since you and milo made it official. everything about life just feels better. no longer were you dreading going into work for another boring day.

instead, you looked forward to getting off work and visiting milo in the theatre. the cast was lovely and made you feel so welcomed. you’d wait in milo’s dressing room as he prepared for the nightly show, not wanting to impose on anyone but still being there to support your boy.

you were so happy to be apart of it.

it was another one of those thrilling nights before milo went on stage. after greeting everyone throughout the theatre, you made your way through a dimly lit hallways, now recognizing the twists and turns.

you paused at a door labeled “Seymour”, it made you smile every time you saw it. you turn the knob, gently knocking as you pushed open the door. milo should be waiting for you.

as you swing open the door, your eyes immediately find milo’s. he was in costume. he looked so cute with glasses. you always tell him his eyes sparkle even more.

“hi, hon,” he says, opening his arms for you. he was sat in front of his mirror. “hi,” you say, a smile creeping on your lips. you gently close the door and made your way over to him.

as you walk across the room, a bouquet of red roses catches your gaze. they were sitting on the small table in the corner of the room. assuming they were addressed to milo, you brushed it off, opting to ask about them later.

you lean down to kiss his head before sitting down on his lap. his arms instinctively wrap tightly around your waist. he breathed you in before saying, “i’ve missed you,”.

you bring your head to lay on his shoulder. “i’ve missed you more,” you kiss his neck softly before continuing, “today’s been a long day.”

“i have something for you to make it better,” he says in his softest voice. it always brought you so much comfort.

“hmm?”

he nudges your leg, signaling you to stand up. you do as your told, excited to see what milo has for you. after milo stands up, he grabs your hand and guides you across the room and over to the roses.

“they’re beautiful, mi. who are they from?” you ask, your head resting on his shoulder as you admire the dozen.

“me.” he responds simply.

looking up at him, you stare confused.

you lean into his touch as his hand comes up to graze your cheek. “i got them for you,” your heart swells at his statement.

“why?” you ask, thinking you did nothing in particular. “as a thank you. you’ve made this all so much more special.” he gestures to everything.

“oh, mi.” you say, your hands coming up to cover your face. he takes you in his arms saying a simple, “thank you.”

you turn to mush as you stare at the flowers. you pull away from milo, finding a small, white card placed between the flowers. you reach your hand out to grab it.

on it, the words scrawled in milo’s handwriting read,

“thank you for letting me get to know you.”

#milo manheim x y/n #milo manheim x reader #milo manheim x you #milo manheim imagine #milo manheim fic #milo manheim fluff #milo manheim blurb #milo manheim

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dostoyevsky-official · 7 months ago

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this a view of someone who's ignored european developments since 2007, opting for a rosy, outdated view of european politics, i.e. the exact type of american committing the exact type of mistake i'm warning about.

to address this point by point: not only has inflation been a global issue, but the US has consistently enjoyed the lowest inflation of any developed economy. american CPI has remained below the british, polish, and eurozone average numbers. european economies have to deal with fallout from the russian invasion of ukraine that the us can ignore: notably, in energy prices, as the US became self-sufficient in energy (and never imported any from russia to begin with, something squeezing the german economy). america is also not hosting millions of ukrainian refugees.

when discussing european instutions—and "europe" in general—one has to be more specific. do you mean the overarching institutions of the EU, criticized for a democratic deficit that many have pinpointed as one source for euro-skepticism and the rise of the far right? the EU Council, widely ignored and headed by charles michel, an incompetent, blatant nepobaby appointment whom everyone grinds their teeth over? the EU parliament, recently filled with a fresh batch of far-right hooligans, which functions more or less as a rubber stamp for the commission? the EU commission itself, headed by VdL, the latest in a string of failed local politician commissioners (who remembers the alcoholic swindler juncker?) masquerading as technocrats? the ECB, which smothers the monetary (and through the maastricht criteria, the fiscal) policy of eurozone members, thereby fueling resentment, far-right movements, and economic disparity? and all of this held hostage by the veto of one orban or fico, —or the german supreme court, when it decides it's had enough with public investment. those institutions, which remain so opaque that even educated americans—and europeans—aren't entirely aware of their function?

or do we mean the institutions of individual countries, ranging from undemocratic autocracies like hungary to the fief of the jupiter king, who called elections in june, lost them, refused to nominate a prime minister from the winning coalition, didn't name any for over a month, and then appointed a rightwing politician from a party that scored dead last, sidestepping his own centrist party? the UK, where sir keir is handing out five years in jail time to climate protesters, raising tuition fees, relying on private investment companies, and through rachel reeves' plan to fix the alleged budget hole left by hunt before further investment, again enacting austerity? this is all front-page headline news from the last half year.

european countries indeed have cheaper healthcare costs, better pensions, and other public goods that the united states does not. when considering "quality of life," remember, however, that most european countries have unemployment rates considered astronomic in america, especially for under-35s:

to focus again and again on european social democracy is to ignore that it has been steadily eroded since the end of the cold war and especially since the great recession by neoliberal political forces that crush the left and open the door for the far right. in the most blatant example, beside's macron's legislative politricks, the IMF-ECB-EC troika cut off euro cash liquidity flow to greece when syriza was trying to undo austerity under varoufakis. the greek collapse consigned a generation to economic failure, killed seniors, and curtailed possibilities for the youth. this erosion happened even in the nordic model, long imagined by americans as nothing short of a utopia:

In part due to the scrapping of wealth and inheritance taxes and a lower corporate tax than both the U.S. and European averages, Sweden has one of the most unequal distributions of wealth in the world today: on a level with Bahrain and Oman, and worse than the United States. Perhaps most dispiriting for Sanders, Sweden also now hosts the highest proportion of billionaires per capita in the world. Many of the country’s trademark social services are now provided by private firms. Its private schools even benefit from the same level of state subsidy as public schools—a voucher system far more radical than anything in the United States and that Democratic politicians would be crucified for advocating. Both here and there, right-leaning commentators in 2020 decried Sanders’s portrait as little more than what Johan Norberg, Swedish author of The Capitalist Manifesto, has called a 1970s “pipedream.” On this, Swedish observers on the left gloomily agree: despite official rhetoric, the “Nordic welfare model” is now more nostalgic myth than reality. (x)

to problematize further, there's an unadressed first world perspective: who's getting the good quality of life, why are the main economies of the EU so wealthy, and how does the EU continue to enrich itself? there are certainly many living outdoors today, drowning in the mediterranean, or dying of exposure in białowieża. fortress europe is a crime against humanity—and it doesn't beat back the far right. it weakens civic and human rights, undermines legal oversight, and criminalizes humanitarian engagement, allowing an authoritarian creep.

you shouldn't understand the political and the historical as a snapshot in time, but as a moving train. this is the state of europe today. all of the above is necessarily a simplification and an abbreviation, but there's a trajectory you can begin to trace out: given all of the above, where do you think europe is headed?

#sorry that the US and Poland are the same shade of pink in the CPI chart i couldn't change it #please stop idealizing europe's political trajectory. it's 2024. you've got to stop.#i'm not trying to insult or condescend the person who left this but to shed light on what are extremely obvious issues mystified #by a decades-old mirage of europe still trapping hordes of well-meaning americans who ought to know better #if tugoslavija were here...

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teslasucks37 · 2 months ago

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hi tess! i hope you're having a good day!! could you possibly write dilf charlie hcs? or a fic, whichever you want. i know you're very busy, take your time. thank you!!

CW: NSFW under the cut (MDNI), afab!Reader (Use of “Miss”, feminine clothing, She/Her pronouns, and afab genitalia), Dilf!Charlie, YoungDad!Charlie (He’s his actual current age the reader is just young), Size Kink, Breeding Kink, Degredation 🤤🤤🤤

A/N: Holy moly! 3k+ words 😨 Didn’t have the courage to do a larger age gap cause they aren’t really my thing so a 5 year difference is a lot for me guys pls don’t bully me 😭

DILF!Charlie x Reader

Dilf Hcs!!!

Charlie hated the types of parents that showed up to these kinds of events.

Wasp moms who loved their sons a little too much, PTA nutjobs who only cared about looking good to other parents, deadbeat dads who would show up a little too happy to be there.

He was often one of the few, if not the only, dads who would show up to family events.

But he was really only here for Fiona.

The sweetest little girl ever, blonde hair half tied up in a little ponytail he’d done himself that morning, glanced at him from across the room and waved wildly.

She smiled that adorable gap toothed smile, waddling over to him and wrapping her arms around his leg.

“Hey, Fi.” He grinned, ruffling the hair on the top of her head lightly as he handed her the metal tin that he’d come to drop off in the first place. “I brought your treats for the bake sale, sorry I’m a little late.”

“It’s okay, Daddy!” She nuzzled her face into his leg, waving over a woman he hadn’t seen before.

Of course he hadn’t seen a lot of the adults there before, considering it was near the beginning of a new school year.

But this woman, he would have noticed her.

Her shoes tapped against the tile, her long colorful skirt flowing around her legs as she walked.

Charlie straightened his suit, brushing off any potential dust on his dress pants.

A cute blouse covered her torso, the long sleeves belling out at her wrists.

She looked young for a teacher, he supposed he shouldn’t judge.

He was pretty young to be a dad.

“Hi, Fiona! Who’s this?” You asked, more to the man than her.

He was a fancy looking man adorned in a suit, young and broad shouldered, handing a little girl you cared for deeply a tiny tin.

It was a very endearing sight.

He stuck out his hand immediately, probably used to speaking with headstrong businessmen considering the suit he was wearing than a barely-graduated kindergarten teacher.

You softly took his hand, shaking it as Fiona refused to move from his leg. “Hi, Miss Smith!”

“I’m Charlie-” He stopped himself, probably realizing that his name meant nothing to you. “Fiona’s dad.”

“Oh!” You exclaimed in recognition. “I’m her teacher. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Charlie’s eyebrows raised. “You have?”

You nodded, pressing a hand into Fiona’s back to guide her toward her spot at the table to lay out her treats.

“She gushes about you all the time.”

Fiona waddled over to her spot, opening the tin and staring at the frosted cookies.

“Wow, those look so nice. How did you manage that in time?” You glanced at Charlie, who looked a little guilty.

“Between you and me, I bought them 15 minutes ago.” He whispered to you, leaning closer, but not too close. “Don’t tell the other parents, though, they’d eat me alive.”

You snickered, covering your mouth with your hand.

Charlie grinned at your laugh, that he’d managed to make that happen.

“Hey, Fiona, those aren’t for us.” You suddenly spoke out in teacher mode, walking over to the kid and placing a hand on her back.

“But they look so good.” She pouted, her hand covering over the tin. “Can’t I have one? Just one?”

Your lips pressed together at her pleading. “I think I have some cash…” You fumbled through the pockets in your skirt in search of your wallet.

“Oh, please, no. I’ll pay for it.” Charlie interjected, pulling his wallet out of his pocket and slipping a dollar into the box. “Besides, this money is for classroom supplies. Don’t those come directly from your pocket already?”

You sighed with a grin, before nodding, watching as Fiona grabbed a cookie with small hands and took a bite.

Her face lit up, then rushed away to go talk to her friends.

You chuckled, walking back to Charlie, who didn’t seem to be leaving anytime soon.

“You look pretty young to be a teacher.” He spoke softly, without the cadence people commonly used when children were listening.

Like it was just the two of you.

“Yeah, I just graduated so this is my first year. I’ll be 23 in a few months.” You rambled, not meaning to spill so much personal information to one of your student’s parent’s, but he was just so easy to talk to.

So easy, that you easily stepped over a line. “You seem pretty young to be a dad.”

Then your eyes went wide. “I’m sorry, that’s not appropriate, I shouldn’t have-“

“No, it’s fine.” Charlie grinned, crossing his arms. “I’m turning 27 in two weeks.”

He couldn’t believe it, you were about the age he was when Fiona was born.

A lot could change in 5 years.

Your face flushed, unable to make eye contact with him any longer. “Well, happy early birthday.”

He nodded his head in thanks, before looking down at his watch and mumbling something resembling a curse word.

“If you have somewhere to be, it’s alright.” You whispered. “I won’t let the other parents know.”

“Um, would you like to go out sometime?” He whispered back, taking you completely off guard.

Reasons why you shouldn’t raced through your head.

He was the parent of one of your students, nearly 5 years older than you, he had a kid, maybe he was married.

But the pleading look in his eye made you bite your lip and nod.

He grabbed a pen from his wallet, scribbling his number onto your hand, and he was off.

You stared at the place where he had once been, just trying to process what you had done.

He was surprised when you actually texted him.

Charlie took you to a fancy restaurant, much too fancy for your attire you’d chosen for the night.

You were clad in cute tennis shoes you’d newly bought for a special occasion, gray semi-translucent thigh high stockings, a short gray pleated skirt with a sparkly belt, and a black crop top with a slight v neckline that showed off your assets a bit more than you realized.

Makeup that tried to not do too much, while still feeling like you, along with lots of jewelry adorned you.

You were living on a teacher salary, so your wardrobe didn’t have many fancy things in it.

He’d said he’d wanted it to be a surprise, but maybe he could have given you a bit more of a heads up.

But his face when you walked through the door made every worry about your outfit disappear.

Charlie’s nearly choked on his water, somewhat surprised you’d even showed up.

He was dressed down from the first time you saw him, now in a black button up with the sleeves rolled up just below his elbows, showing off his forearms.

His longer hair was pushed back slightly, styled nice and neat, despite a few stray curls poking out.

Nice dress pants paired with nice dress shoes, a nice watch.

“So, what do you do for work?” You began awkwardly, feeling significantly out of place amongst the much older and much richer customers that were currently there.

Charlie’s hands fidgeted above the table, obviously embarrassed about the answer. “I’m, um… I’m actually a streamer.”

“Really? I would have thought you had some 9 to 5 with the suit you had on when we met.” You spoke, more surprised than anything.

“Yeah, I had a meeting to go to after that. I ended up being a little late cause I was supposed to leave earlier than I did.” He joked, just seeming relieved you didn’t think his job was stupid.

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” You apologized, guilt ridden for taking up so much of his time.

He just grinned. “It’s alright. It was worth it.”

Those two small sentences made your face feel hot, causing you to grab your water to cool off.

He was attractive, no doubt about it, but he was nearly 5 years older than you with a kid.

But he was just so…

Charlie…

The two of you ordered and moved on to more in depth conversation.

Charlie took a sip from his water glass. “Fiona’s mom and me… We had different ideas on how to raise her, so it didn’t really work out.”

You nodded empathetically. “Is that who she’s with now?”

He nodded. “Should be with her all night.” He mumbled before taking another sip of his water with a grin.

And that offhand detail changed the course of the entire night.

You hadn’t meant to go home with him on the first date, you’d actually swore to yourself that you wouldn’t.

But he just looked so fucking good.

And after he’d dropped the hint that the house was empty, you just couldn’t pass up the opportunity.

You let him drive you to his place, let him place his hand on the small of your back, let him lead you inside, let him lead you upstairs to his bedroom, let him kiss you.

And god did he know how to kiss, tongue brushing against your lips like he owned them, before brushing against your tongue like he owned that too.

You’d never been with a man that wasn’t your age.

He was so much more experienced, refined, better.

Charlie was large, or maybe you were just short.

When your hands slid down his shirt undoing the buttons, he chuckled against your lips.

“So eager~” His voice rumbled above you, like a predator finally catching his prey.

Charlie’s hands slid down to his belt as you continued to unbutton his shirt.

Toeing off his shoes with reckless abandon and pulling the rest of his clothes off, he didn’t even bother to take off your shoes before he threw you on your back onto his bed.

You could feel his hot breath on your face, his thick cock hanging heavy between his legs as he crawled over you with his hands pressed against your thighs.

You squirmed beneath him, hands reaching for his arms, desperate for some kind of friction.

“Hold still, baby, let me take care of you…” He mumbled, moving his hand under your skirt to pull your panties to the side, before placing his hand on the back of your thigh again.

You grinned at his words, feeling his tip prod your hot entrance.

“You want me?” His tone was teasing, but also making sure you really wanted this.

“Yes!” You whimpered, moving your hips against the leaking head of his cock, never more sure of anything in your whole life.

His mouth changed to an open mouthed grin as he sunk inside you, slowly, carefully.

He could feel how he was stretching you out, the little whimpers you were letting out as he rocked in and out, gauging your reaction all the while.

You loved how he cared for you, was so considerate, not like men your age.

But you needed him to stop being considerate and fuck you like a slut.

So you whined, gripping his arm and moving your hips as much as you could against his grip.

“Yeah, you want me to move?” He pressed a kiss to your hand that passed by his face, experimentally thrusting hard, earning a gasp from between your lips. “You want me to pound this tight little pussy of yours?”

Fuck…

You felt your walls flutter around him, making him smirk with bared teeth.

And then he really started, his hips pounding against you with his iron grip on your thighs, pressing them into your chest and folding you in half.

The breaths you managed to take in were shallow, quickly fucked out by his cock.

His hands lifted from your skin to travel under your shirt, skillfully pulling it up and unhooking your bra with one hand before pulling it out from under you. “Fuck… So pretty.”

You moaned at his compliment, his dick hitting way too deep for you to possibly speak out any kind of tangible thank you.

Charlie leaned closer to hit deeper, one hand landing beside you to prop him up while the other groped your tits.

His body was so big and strong, towering over your small frame, his hand almost able to fit both your breasts in one palm.

His groans were like fucking music, grunts and panting falling from his lips so easily.

You wondered if he’d fucked his ex-wife like this, primal and hard.

Gravity brought him down inside you and the pounding against your skin brought him back up to do it over and over, his heavy balls slapping against your skin.

You wondered how long it had been since he’d emptied them.

He must be a busy man, but he’d taken time out of his days to go to the bake sale, ask you out, actually go out with you, and now he was fucking you.

You grinned at the thought, lifting your chin up slightly to urge him down wordlessly, and he followed you, chased your lips until both of your moans were echoing past your lips, hot and heavy with need.

His hand on your tits slid down between you to unzip your skirt, you feeling him do it in one swift motion without leaving from your lips once.

The fabric was pulled out from under you, then his hand moved to circle your clit, making your back arch up against him and your head fall back from his lips onto the mattress.

“Yeah?” He asked teasingly as he increased the pressure just enough, knowing exactly what he was doing to you. “Gonna cum for me? Gonna cum like a good little slut for me?”

You shivered, feeling your cunt tighten around him, your hips and thighs shaking wildly in his grasp.

He sat up so he could see all of you, never stopping his hips or fingers for a second.

“Fuck, fuck, Charlieeee~ Aaahhh!” Your voice wavered as the tension inside you peaked, your cunt pulsing around him as he slowed his thrusts, but not stopping as your cum squirted out onto his skin and his sheets.

“Oh, fuck…” He sighed in awe, admiring how you trembled beneath him, your hips bucking against him even after your orgasm like an animal in heat, begging him to continue, to keep fucking you hard.

So he did, reaching so deep he could feel the slight push back of your cervix, making you practically scream for him with a wild smile on your face.

And he just kept hitting it over and over and over, making you see stars, completely overstimulated by his cock.

Feeling completely invaded, overwhelmed by this hunk of a man that fucked you better than anyone else ever had, made your brain turn to complete soup.

The sight must have been fucking immaculate.

Charlie fucking your tiny body in your pretty little date outfit, your shoes, thigh highs, panties, and shirt still on.

Both of your thighs dripping with your squirt, the smell of cum and sex and the slapping of his skin against yours

He never would have guessed, you being a teacher and all, that you’d be such a fucking whore for him.

His fingers continued to swirl against your clit, small circles mixed with big ones, light mixed with hard pressure, like he knew just what to do to make you lose your mind.

Charlie’s other hand lifted to your waist, pulling you into him so he could hit impossibly deep with inhumane speed.

You could feel his hips begin to sputter uncontrollably.

“Say you want it, angel. Say you want my cum.” Charlie whispered, like it was a private thought that he just couldn’t stop himself from saying aloud.

But you wanted it. You really wanted it.

You wanted him to claim you, fill you up like a fucking cumdump, use you until you broke.

“I do! I do~ I want it~”

That sentence coming from your mouth alone nearly broke him.

He imagined what you’d look like, swelled up with his child, so young, as young as he was, but such the perfect wife for him.

So wonderful, perfect to raise two kids with him always there to care for you.

“Fuck…”

But he had to tear his mind away from that fantasy.

He had you now, and that was all that mattered.

And the way you were looking at him, hazy eyed, fucked out, completely at his whim, that was more than enough to make his balls tighten and bust his hot load deep inside you.

His frantic thrusting, his haphazard finger movements, his warm seed spilling into you, everything came crashing down as a stronger, yet quieter orgasm took over your brain.

It felt like your body went numb, like you were passing out as you came around his big twitching cock.

Your eyes fluttered as you heard Charlie’s groans, slightly whiny and far off, like through a thick haze as the fullness left you.

Your chest heaved in effort, your legs falling to the side as they were moved for you, your shoes and socks coming off along with the shirt you’d forgotten you were wearing.

His strong arms lifted you up, rolling your soaked panties down your legs and tossing them onto the floor, before tucking you into his bed.

You saw through your misty gaze Charlie walking into his bathroom and coming back with a towel, wiping off your soaked thighs before placing it on your folds to soak up any remnants of fluid leaking out of you.

He practically collapsed onto the mattress, turning off the lamp right next to his bed lazily.

You rolled onto his chest, groaning with effort, which made Charlie chuckle.

“I take it you had fun?” He asked with a grin that you couldn’t see in the dark, but heard in his voice.

“Mhm~” You mumbled out, too exhausted to do anything else.

But suddenly you heard the front door open downstairs.

“Daddy! I’m home!”

Your eyes went wide, your own hands shooting up to cover your mouth.

Charlie’s eyes went wide as well, pulling the blanket up to cover your frame as tiny feet walked up the steps and opened the door just a crack.

The slight light from the hallway made just his side of the bed visible.

“Hey, Fi. I’m pretty exhausted from work, so do you think you could be a big girl and put yourself to bed tonight?” Charlie pleaded as nonchalantly as he could, wishing he’d locked the door before he had gotten distracted.

“Yeah, I can. Night night, Daddy!” She whispered the last sentence, closing the door slowly, probably mimicking what Charlie did for her so many times.

“Night, Fi!”

Once the footsteps receded, you let out a soft snort.

“Oh… My God.” Charlie whispered, covering his embarrassed grin with a hand.

You pulled the blanket back down, snuggling against his chest and giggling into his warm skin. “That was too close.”

“Yeah… We probably shouldn’t let her catch on…” He spoke softly, now all too aware of another presence in the house.

You nodded, wondering exactly what it would mean for your relationship, your career.

But you were only on your first year.

You and Charlie would figure it out.

And in fact, as the two of you drifted off to sleep together, he promised to himself that you would figure it out.

#smut #charlie slimesicle x reader #charlie slimecicle smut #slimecicle x reader #slimefucker #slimecicle smut #señor babygirl

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queers-gambit · 1 year ago

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I saw your post about taking Felix requests so I had to send one and trust me the choke hold this man now has on me is so strong too!

I see Felix as the kinda guy who is laid back but with his girl at Saltburn because she’s shy he’d be the one who would pick out her dresses for dinner, put his hand on her throat or up her skirt whenever he wants and even just to get her attention, always pulling her on his lap even if there is an open seat next to him, and maybe he’d make her call him daddy. Do with that info what you will if you like it 🤭

oh, baby, you're onto something real. like really real.

mhm, mhm, love me a popular boy and shy girly. he dazzles and she lets him; she holds the light for him, type shit! love it. got me salivating a little - or is that foam at my mouth? hm - for Felix, it's probably both.

you've got my motor running, there's a LOT of thoughts being thunk! so let's get into it!

kinda-sorta Felix Catton headcanons

okay, first, him picking out her outfits? FUCKING ADORABLE!

he starts out by taking her shopping, it's just them and a store attendant; he's sitting in one of those little chairs, facing the dressing room, waiting for her to show him each option. she's a shy baby, so she's quiet when showing him, but Felix is boisterous and supportive, so he gets all up-in-arms for each dress, each pantsuit, each flowing skirt and tight top. you know, asks her to do 180's, to dance around (to make sure it all fits right), and he'll even get up and twirl her once or twice when he particularly likes an outfit. he has LOTS of opinions, so the attendant brings over whatever he points at since his girly often sticks to "safe" choices and he likes seeing her branch out. the attendant thinks they're just too cute, so the attendant is happy to do whatever Felix asks; happy to help zip her up or tie her into whatever dress he picks. it's a bonding experience each time, and because he's a rich pretty boy, he buys everything. is that a kink? it should be a kink. even that dress she's not convinced looks flattering - he's borderline drooling and slapping cash onto the counter, begging her to put it on the moment they get "home". naturally he carries all the bags.

when at Saltburn, he's the one picking their dinner fits 'cause he gets off by matching together - 'cause he's a soft angel baby, too. she does his hair for him and he'll wear a button up thats the same color as her dress; and boy, oh boy, does he lay the compliments on THICK. like - any opportunity, he's showering her, gushing over her, just RAVING. she's shy and a little quiet, but when Felix fucking Catton is genuinely complimenting her as if he can't help himself, it really helps boost her confidence and settles her nerves. Felix likes to push envelopes, so naturally, he pushes them with his pretty lady, too, and it might make her unsure, but again, the confidence boost calms her and she's really excited to see what the next fit is.

Felix doesn't have a specific love language because they're ALL his love languages. so, yes, that includes physical touch. he adores his shy little lady, and again, likes pushing envelopes - so, even in public, he's laying his hand on her throat. not in a grip, but in a soft gesture to keep her close to him; as if feeling her pulse reassures him. he's possessive as fuck, but in a soft way; so the Catton's aren't phased by his actions, despite the way it makes his little lady a little insecure. she's just not HUGE on PDA, but Felix is, and he doesn't do it if she's adamant - but seeing her a little nervous (eyes darting around to make sure nobody's watching) really gets him going. and no matter where they are, if she's in a dress or skirt, you better believe his hand is on her thigh! you better believe he's pushing her buttons by trying to reach higher! you better believe it makes her all flustered but wildly turned on - and Felix revels in her reactions. her little squeaks of surprise, the way she might choke on her wine when he squeezes unsuspectingly, the way her hand slaps down over his (her skirt's material between their hands) when he gets a little too handsy. he's a menace, but his shy little love adores it.

he makes her braver. he makes her want to try new things. he makes her excited and as if her energy's renewed.

Felix recharges her, burns her out, replenishes her, exhausts her. he does it all - being a Jack of All Trades. and she keeps him humble, in-line, on his toes, and feeling like everyday's an adventure.

matter of fact, they make each other feel as if they're on a new adventure each day. awh, i love them.

moving along!

still on the PDA train, you're totally right, dear sweet Nonnie, and Felix loves her on his lap. he just loves having her close; it makes him feel all the more confident and yet, grounded and down-to-Earth. she toys with his hair at the nape of his neck, his arm's usually always tight around her waist; and because he's gangly, his arm wraps around to rest on her thigh. and guess what? it's up her skirt. they like cuddling, but Felix is way more open about it; he doesn't care what audience they have, he's just touching her. he likes whispering in her ear when she's on his lap, it makes her giggle and whisper back. there's constant compliments, discussions about what mischief to get into that evening, little jokes - mostly about Farleigh, knowing those two adorable fucks.

absolute cuties.

after dinners, when the family's socializing, he's tugging her to his lap despite the space on the couch being open. he won't do it at dinner, though, that's far too formal and his little love is dreadfully against it; but other meals? casual meals? yeah, the cheeky fuck's setting her to his lap - only releasing her when she gives him a kiss. however, some breakfasts spent on the terrace or patio, she's still a little sleepy and won't fight him too hard; resting back into his chest, letting him feed her a few cubes of fruit - much much much to Elspeth's delight.

Mama Catton's the biggest supporter of Felix and his little love. it's freaking adorable. Venetia's supporter #2 'cause she loves her brother being in-love, but Elspeth's just - over the freaking moon.

now, the daddy kink? i can see it. 1000%. he's not super in his lady's face about it, but when they're gettin' frisky, oh YEAH - baby boy's way into it. demanding she call him Daddy when he's balls deep already, he wants it panting from her lips. he wants to hear her call him Daddy like it's a dying prayer. this super extends into a breeding kink - but that's another story. dude just loves the power he feels when his shy little love begs Daddy to fuck her harder. to get rougher. to please her the way only Daddy can. and it's not that he "makes" her call him that, she's very very very much into it, too. look, IYKYK - daddy kinks aren't for everyone but FUCK, is it fun.

this also directly relates to pet names, which Felix is a BIG fan of. he's the type that only calls his shy little love by her name when he's being serious. and maaaan, for the first few weeks of their relationship, she was just too nervous to call him any pet name but when she starts small, you know, the simple "baby", or "love", or my personal favorite, "sweet boy", she sees the way he LIGHTS up and starts using pet names regularly. she'll only call him "Felix" when she's being serious, which is actually super helpful in their relationship because he's so playful, she's so shy, he doesn't always know when he's crossed a line. but the moment she's calling him "Felix" instead of "Fi" or anything else, he's shaping up. it's a subtle way he knows she's uncomfortable and he NEEDS to get serious - else risk upsetting her. which he NEVER wants to do. she's too pretty, too sweet, too soft spoken to be upset. calling him "Felix" is a telltale sign that things aren't okay, and it's just a way for him to know what's going on without actually asking, "what's wrong?" 'cause he's pretty in-tune to his own bullshit, so, he's usually pretty good about knowing what he does that pushes her a little too far.

i... i love them so much.

damn i HAVE to stop doing this to myself. i get all into these fictional men, and then, when i actually date around in real life, FUCK am i disappointed. i'd like a man written by a woman, please! God, when is it my turn!? 😂 i'd do anything at this point, good sir!

ah, but we live, we love, we learn - right?

anyways, enough of my whinging. thank you for sending this in and sending me down a rabbit hole! we all know i'm a masochist, so i love hurting myself in this way. tantalizes my wee heart.

all my love! 🖤

requesting rules and masterlist

Saltburn masterlist

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