#but like. I don’t work enough. I don’t make enough money

[misserabella]

ask nicely

bodyguard abby x str!pper reader

summary; your night was going good until some asshole tried touching you. abby stepped in to save you and took you to a safe place. what happens when you find yourselves alone in a private room?

cw; +18 content, minors dni!!, sa (groping) coming from a man towards reader, abby kicks him out, tension, reader flirts, reader is in lingerie, abby being a gentlewoman, drinking (reader), lots of teasing, groping (coming from abby so we like it), making out, hair pulling, dom! abby and switch! reader, bratty reader, abby being an asshole, praising, begging, dirty talking, tit and nipple play (r receiving), use of good girl, choking, multiple orgasms implied, lots of teasing…

you were having a pretty good night. the club was full. your makeup looked gorgeous, your dancing routine had never came out better and the money kept flowing in steadily.

but of course something, or better said, someone had to come by and ruin it.

his hands are warm, and big on your hips, his breath smelled like alcohol as he leant on your face, trying to kiss you. “come on, sweetheart, just one little taste…” you were dodging his attempts, trying to move away, but he’s insistent and you’re getting tired of it.

lucky enough, a kind soul comes to your rescue, taking you out of the disgusting man’s grasp. you can’t help but sigh in relief when you see her. her 6ft tall height, her muscular arms dressed in a tight black muscle tee and his big thighs in a just as tight black pants… its making you salivate. her blonde hair is up on a braid, and there’s a scowl on her pretty features as her rough voice cuts the air.

“what the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

it makes you shiver. how she handles the man that easily, how she manhandles him and pulls him away from you as if he weighted nothing. your thighs clench at the thought of being under her touch and strong hands. would she be rough with you too? would she manhandle you like she had with the man? would she be soft, treat you kindly?

“kick this fucker out.” your mind was spiraling in thoughts as the other security member came at her order and took the man away to kick him out of the club, but she pulled you away from all of it with her voice, this time softer, worried.

“are you okay?” your eyes met her sky blue ones, and you swore you could melt. you fixed your lingerie set, somehow worried you’d be in disarray. you weren’t. you looked as perfect as ever under her glance. irresistible.

you nodded, afraid that if you spoke she’d understand the whine in your voice. how her protection affected you.

“come with me.” she offered, her warm hand on the low of your back to guide you to one of the private rooms where you took clients for private shows.

you found yourself walking slower than how you usually did to elongate the feeling of her touch on your skin, your hips swaying at her side.

you sighed when you heard the click of the door behind you, your hands making quick work of pouring yourself a drink.

“thank you. i needed some air.” you muttered to the woman, who nodded.

“i figured.” she gave you a soft smile.

“would you like some?” you inquired her, raising the bottle of bourbon.

“sorry. working.” she turned the offer down, and you grinned.

“responsible. cute.” something inside abby stirred at your comment, her cheeks reddening slightly under the dim lights. her eyes were everywhere but on your body, and you noticed.

you took a sip of your drink, sighing.

“my night was going so good… until that pig started bothering me.” you said. “but thanks to you… i don’t have to worry about no one touching me again, huh, abby?” you smirked, your voice low, sending shivers down her spine as your heels clacked towards her.

you’ve been observing her for a while, craving her for just as long. and you could tell she did as well. so what was stopping her? was she afraid she’ll break you? if so… why did you want it so badly?

“i wouldn’t let anybody touch you…” she swallowed, her eyes on yours, even when you stood practically naked on front of her. such good manners…

“good…” one of your manicured nails trailed down her chest, she took a step back, her back flush against the door, with no scape when you followed her. “‘cause i wouldn’t let anybody touch me except you.” you smiled, and her eyes widened, mouth falling ajar.

“except for me?” you hummed, your chest pressed against hers as you looked at her lips. if she didn’t want that she could easily deny you, push you away, but she wasn’t, and she wouldn’t.

“only you.”

your words seemed to shift something in her, ‘cause next thing you knew is that it was you the one being caged in between her strong body and the door, her lips hungrily ravishing yours in a fiery kiss that left you breathless. you moaned against her mouth, giving her the opportunity to push her tongue inside, tasting the bourbon out of your spit. your arms surrounded her neck, pulling her closer, her own on your hips, pressing you against her front.

“abby…” you sighed as her lips trailed down your neck, her teeth slightly biting your sensitive skin.

“you don’t know what you do to me…” she muttered. “always looking so perfect… so fucking beautiful. makes it difficult to hold back.” you smirked, pulling from her perfectly made braid and winning a groan.

“then don’t. i like you when you’re gentle with me. but i think i’ll like it more when you aren’t.” she bit down on her lip.

“fuck. you drive me crazy.” you smiled as her warm hands cupped your ass, hosting you up so you’d surround her hips, walking you towards the sofa or the room to plop down, pulling you down against her strong thighs.

you sigh, your hips waving against hers, making her grunt as she gropes at the meat of your ass, thrusting you harder against her body. you can see the way her muscles pop in her arms, feel how her thighs clench underneath you. and it only adds to the wetness that’s already soaking your lace thin panties. the fact that it was the only thing that kept her from touching you was driving you insane.

your hands came behind your back to unclasp your bra, leaving it aside and biting your lips under her hungry gaze. you smirked, taking the back of her hand and pulling her towards your chest, moaning when she gave you what you wanted, her lips wrapping around your perky nipples, sucking and licking over the buds until spit left them shiny and her teeth, swollen and sensitive. as she played with you, one of her hands, —the one that didn’t play with your free breast— came down in between your legs, her expert fingers touching you from beneath your panties.

“you’re soaked.” she smirked as she noticed the slick mess you’d become by just a few kisses and touches. “someone needs it bad, huh?” you groaned.

“give me what i want.” you ordered as you tugged from her hair and she scoffed.

“manners.” she answered. “only good girls get what they want. if you want something you need to ask for it.” you whined.

“i want you to touch me.”

“but i’m touching you.” you moaned as her fingers squeezed your nipple.

“you know what i mean…”

“i still want to hear you say it.” she whispered and your hips rocked against her fingertips in seek of relief.

“i want your fingers. in my pussy.” you breathed against her lips. “is that clear enough for you?” you spat, and she chuckled, humming with that cocky smirk of hers that you’d absolutely despise if it didn’t turn you on so much.

“say please.” you groaned, looking down at her as daggers left your eyes. she was teasing you. pushing all your buttons to break you. and she did.

“please.” you gritted in between your teeth, and she pinched your nipple harder, making you whimper and your hips buck as she pressed up against your cunt with her hand, brushing your clit.

“be sweet about it.” you were pleading now.

“please abby, please. fuck me.”

“atta girl…” she praised in a low voice, and then she was pushing your panties aside and finally giving you what you wanted. a honey sweet moan left your lips when her fingers brushed your sensitive clit, drawing tight circles that left you shuddering.

she whistled due to how easily her fingers slipped in between your folds. “completely soaked for me, huh? so fucking pretty…” all breath left your lungs as two of her thick fingers plunged inside of you, stretching your walls and making a slick sound dive into the music that surrounded the two of you. “so tight…”

“fuck.” you groaned as she curled them, easily finding your g spot and making your back arch.

“right there, hm? look at you…” her free hand came up to surround your neck, keeping you in place. “so ready to take everything i give you, hm?” you nodded.

“yes… yes, please. anything…” you begged as she started to thrust in and out of you, your slick wetting her fingers and making white rings up her knuckles.

she chuckled. “so all i needed to do for you to behave was bury my fingers knuckle deep in your pussy, huh?” you whimpered when she curled them once again.

“shut up.” you stuttered and she laughed, curling her fingers faster and harder, making you moan and curse. “fuck, abby...”

“you sound so pretty like this, moaning my name. do it again.”

“abby, please, make me cum, please…” her thumb came up to your clit, and her grip on your throat tightened.

“you wanna cum? wanna cum all over my fingers?” you nodded. “then beg for it.”

“please…” you cried out, feeling the warmth on your lower stomach rising. you were so close… “please let me cum, please…” she hummed.

“such a good girl…” you whimpered at the praise, your walls clenching around her fingers. “go ahead angel, wanna see it drip.” with a few more curls of her dingers and circles on your swollen and sensitive clit, you fell apart, moans spilling from your lips as she helped you ride it, sucking at your nipples to extend it. “thaaat’s it. good fucking girl.”

it was not necessary to say that abby made you cum again, and again, and maybe a couple more times…

[luveline]

Craving a postprison!Spencer x stripper!reader fic, please ma’am.

Maybe she gets a daytime job at a coffee shop or a bookstore - to “supplement her income”/ not have to dance as often (not that she’s ashamed!!) and Spencer is just so proud of her for trying and can’t quit kissing her and praising her because I know in other fics you’ve mentioned she didn’t think anyone would hire her because of her profession/self esteem, plus after prison she didn’t want to dance because she wanted to be with Spencer. 🥺

Or really just anything with a proud Spencer x stripper!reader doing anything.

Your work is fantastic and I’m in love with everything you do!! 💕 thank you and it’s totally okay if you think this request is lame or don’t wanna write it!

thank you angel! —you find a new job while making decisions about your old one after Spencer returns from prison, and Spencer would praise you for breathing, so he’s extremely proud. fem, 1.8k

Statistics differ, but estimates suggest that there are around twenty thousand strippers in Las Vegas. With a population of seven hundred thousand people (estimated up), that means that one in thirty five people living in Las Vegas dances for a living. 

It’s more than you’d think. Spencer knew of plenty of women who worked as strippers, exotic dancers, or private entertainers when he was still living at home. And while the numbers are much smaller in Washington DC where he lives now, it’s far from zero. More surprising for the average person to be one, perhaps, but not for Spencer. 

It used to make him blush like a steam train, sure, but it never did any of the things you were scared of. He’s never looked down on you for it, never been jealous (well, never acted like a jerk because of it), never positioned it as anything other than work. His only complaints are in your concern. You don’t like the club, most of the time. You feel unsafe often. The risk of femicide is yards higher for you as a sex worker than it would be otherwise, but who is Spencer to talk about danger? He still has stitches in his leg. 

Your job used to feel more urgent, a red flashing light above your head, because you’d come around with bruises or cut knees, tear stained cheeks, and you couldn’t make ends meet for all your efforts, but things have changed. You’re reluctant to depend on him, but you’ll accept the help when you need it. Nothing keeps you there if you don’t want to be there, and when you do you’re a marvel. You are beautiful, in Spencer’s eyes. Your dancing when you’re having a good night is one of the prettiest things he’s ever seen —more than pretty, sometimes. A hot coal in his stomach. 

But the fact of the matter is that Spencer’s home, and you don’t want to dance. You haven’t been to the club for weeks as far as he’s aware, and he’d consider himself well informed. You spent all your savings and started spending his instead and he couldn’t care less, what’s his is yours, whatever keeps you aloft while you make whatever decision it is you’re working toward. Not that it presented itself that way. 

I’ll have to go back.

Spencer on his back, you sitting with your head turned from the TV and toward him, your hand on his hip, just resting. Where?

To work. I have enough money for the next two weeks, and then I’m all out. 

Spencer wouldn’t do something as unkind as rolling his eyes, but the point of you moving in was to cement that he’d look after you no matter what. He’d turned his head to you on his pillow and reached for your elbow. You’re still resting. 

You’ve been home for two months, Spencer. I’ve rested enough. I… I only managed this long because you haven’t asked me for anything and that’s not fair, we both live here. 

I earn more than you, so I pay more, he’d said, confused. It’s not as though it hurt him to continue paying for an apartment he’s been living in for years. 

I won’t be your leech. 

You’re not my leech, don’t say that.

I can’t just not have money. 

Well… he’d said. He’d never discussed it with you so openly before, always stopped at the first suggestion, but there’s a first time for everything. You know you can have whatever you want from me. Anything you want, you don’t have to ask. 

Spencer… you’re my boyfriend. 

Exactly. 

No, you’re my boyfriend. You don’t have to keep me. I don’t want that. 

He understood the ‘want’ most heavily. What do you want, angel? he’d asked, dragging your hand up his naked chest to rest over his diaphragm, your arm moving up and down in time with his breathing. 

You’d seemed stricken, but not upset. Like the question surprised you in having no answer. Not sure… you’d said eventually. Mostly you. 

A week passed, two. A third and you’d asked him to borrow money, just for a little while, and with the vehement promise you’d pay him back. 

He’s not expecting it. So soon, either. But here you are standing in front of him with a beaming smile and little book in your hands, unzipping one of the book's inner pockets to count out the money you’d ’borrowed’. “Here you go, my angel, there’s everything.” 

Spencer just looks at it. “What is it?” 

“The money I owe you.” 

He presses his hands to his stomach to stop you from forcing the notes into them. “You don’t owe me anything.” 

“No, seriously, please take it.” 

He shakes his head. “Seriously. I don’t want anything from you, I love you. That money was for you to do what you wanted, or needed. It was yours as soon as I gave it to you.” 

You try regardless to put it in his hands. Your hair was done freshly a week ago, your nails manicured but unpainted, your face adorned with some new makeup he’d seen on his (your) vanity a few days ago. It honestly hadn’t crossed his mind why you’d suddenly given yourself a refresh, and he had no suspicions. You would’ve told him if you went to the club, even just via text, because it’s important he knows you’ve had access to your phone or that you’re coming home. (Plus, he’d notice you leaving at night. You’ve spent the last few evenings laying across his lap.)

“Where did you get this?” he asks, smiling softly, wondering if he’s come to the right conclusion. 

You drop the money on his thigh and take a couple of steps back. 

“I,” you say, holding your little book to your stomach, “got a job as a barista. They gave me my first paycheck today, a direct deposit. So I took out what I owe you and the rest of it is in here.” 

“You what?” he asks. 

“I’m working at the coffeehouse by the library,” you say, nodding, parts proud of yourself and parts shy. 

“For how long? Why didn’t you tell me?” 

You bite your lip. “Just this week. And honestly, I didn’t want you to know if I couldn’t do it.” 

Spencer stands up but doesn’t cross the room to you. He could reach out and catch your hand. “How could you work somewhere new all week without me noticing?” 

“You weren’t here on Monday, Tuesday, or Wednesday morning, and they gave me Thursday off, so I just told you a very small lie this morning about going to the store. I knew you’d get distracted by your Persian poetry again.” 

He did get distracted, very much so. You’ve been and worked a whole shift without his worrying, which is a bit awful in itself (he really does love you, and he’d like to know where you are), but is also, frankly, a great thing. You should be able to work without worry. You should do anything you want to do. 

Still, a whole week at a brand new job without any support, and to stand there with your paycheck as unmistakable waves of satisfaction melt off of you unkissed is insanity. Spencer’s laughing as he ushers you into his arms, as he hugs your shoulders tightly, “Oh my god!” he says, “Wow, congratulations!” He pulls back just a touch to see your face. “Please don’t lie to me about where you’re going, that’s so dangerous. I love you!” 

He takes your face into both hands with your arms hanging loosely behind his back and begins a reckoning of kisses. The slope of your cheek, the skin between your nose and lips, Spencer couldn’t care less where the kisses land, he just wants them all over you. You laugh softly as he goes, almost stickily, a sound that comes deep from your chest. “I’m so proud of you,” he says, pressing a quick, mildly rougher kiss to the corner of your mouth. 

“I might still strip,” you say. 

“Whatever you want,” he says, squeezing your face between his palms. “What’s it like? Do you like it? Is it hard?” He kisses you again. “I wish you’d told me,” he says against your lips. 

You’re quieter than he expected, and warm. He pulls away more sternly to see what’s gone wrong. He could’ve asked the wrong questions. Maybe he’s embarrassed you. 

“I just wanted to make sure I could do it. I didn’t want to fail and… and have you know. I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be, I get it.” God knows he’s failed a hundred times for you to see it. He wishes he would have hidden a lot of that from you, spared you some heartache, but he also knows how lucky he is to have you near. “That’s what we’re supposed to do, right? We should be together when stuff goes wrong.” He beams. “But it didn’t go wrong.” 

“I think I’m pretty good at it.” 

“Yeah?” 

You hold his wrist. “And I get tips, did you know that? Not as many as before,” —you laugh to yourself loudly— “but still. It’s really cool. They pay me even if nobody wants coffee, and when people want coffee I get extra.” 

Spencer kisses the corner of your eye. He kisses up to your eyebrow and down again, all over your cheek before turning your face to the other side to kiss circles into the other. “I,” —kiss— “can’t,” —kiss— “believe it.” Kiss. “Actually, I can, but I still can’t.” 

“It’s just a part time job.” 

“That you didn’t think you could do,” he says. “But you can do anything, I knew you could. I’m amazed by you.” 

He grins and throws his arms over your shoulders. 

You squeeze him right back, the two of you swaying, almost falling over. He can feel how proud you are of yourself. You deserve to feel this way no matter what. 

“I like dancing,” you say, “I do, I just wish I could do it in a different… world? Is that stupid?” 

“No. You’re never stupid.” He smiles as your hand weaves into his hair, fingertips scratching along his scalp, his curls caught between your fingers. 

“Do you think you could come on Monday? I can make you a cup of coffee. It’s not as hard as it looks.” 

“Please, I’d love for you to make me a cup of coffee.” His smile presses to your shoulder, where he breathes you in briefly, before remembering something very important. “Hey, do you wear an apron?” 

“Of course I do.”

Oh my god, he thinks. There are more than half a million baristas in the United States, and Spencer will bet his monthly paycheck that you’re the cutest one to ever exist. You look cute right now in your jeans and your button up shirt, but put an apron on top of that? To see you standing behind a bar mixing drinks and pouring latte art? Monday can’t come quick enough. 

[oreolemur]

Okey so here's my request...

reader working at a strip club.... She is poor And needs financial so she is working as a stripper....So one day the gojo goes to the club and ask to get a private dance by reader So reader starts doing her job like twerking on him..and gojo gets hard...he isn't allowed to touch her cause it's the rules...soo after the 5minutes of doing her job on him he asks for her number but she declines...and like her forces her for her number and she calls security..... Gojo knows he's strong enough to kill those security then and there but he didn't and went out... she continued doing her job...closing time she went out and started walking later she saw a black car and ignored..gojo exited the car and called her she saw him and ran..he chased her and got her..and took her in and thts when the things happens (it's a Noncon request 💕)

Keep sending more requests loves! ❤

“I’m so sick of this job”, you sighed, staring at yourself in the mirror. You applied makeup to your face as you got ready to start another day of work. “At least my fit today is cute”. You were wearing a short blue skirt that exposed your ass cheeks and a see through crop top that showed cleavage. You admired yourself some more, before being rudely interrupted by your boss. “Y/n! Get your ass out here and start making these customers happy”, the man yelled. You rolled your eyes, gathering your stuff to head to the preparation room. “I really need a new job”, you muttered. Once inside, you were happily greeted by your coworkers. They all had on similar clothing as you. “I guess blue is today’s theme”, you said to your friend. 

She looked at you and nodded. “Yeah apparently the heir of the Gojo clan is coming today”, the woman mentioned. You were confused. “Who exactly?”, you questioned. She slightly hit your arm. “You don’t know Satoru? He comes in often carrying a lot of cash”, she said. “His birthday is today so we all have to wear blue to celebrate”. Raising your eyebrow at her, you still didn’t know who she was talking about. “Yeah…he’s not ringing a bell”. As the two of you chatted a while longer, you heard your name being called on stage. “Shit! How do I look?”, you asked your friend. “Like a stripper”, she laughed. You giggled at her comment, “Duh bitch, but seriously…how do I look?”. She tucked your hair behind your ears. “You look like someone who’s gonna get out of here soon. Make that money, save it, and never come back”, she said. You gave her a kiss on the cheek, proceeding to head out.

❤~On Stage~❤

It was mostly a crowd full of men, some women here and there, but mostly males were present. They all showered you with money as you worked your hips, dancing around that long silver pole you hated so much. The light from the ceiling beamed on you, revealing everything you were doing. “Isn’t she lovely?”, the man on the speaker said. Your body moved with ease as you slid down the pole, spreading your legs. The people went wild as they saw your black thong. You then got on the floor, crawling to the customers in front. You made eye contact with some of them as they put money in your skirt. “You deserve my whole savings”, one of the men said. You continued performing, until your time was up. “All right ladies and gentlemen, get ready to meet our next beauty”.

Heading off the stage, you were pulled to the side by a bouncer. “You have a private dance to attend to”, he said, guiding you to the private area of the club. “Do I have to?’, you pouted. The bouncer ignored you as he opened the door to one of the rooms. “If he tries anything you let me know”. With that he closed the door in your face. You stood there, sighing, facing your back towards your lucky customer. “Don’t look so sad”, he said. You turned around, seeing a tall white haired male with blue eyes. “Come over here”, he gestured. You put on a fake smile, approaching him. “Dance for me”, he demanded. Doing exactly what you do on stage, you begin to dance your hips, hands roaming all over your body. 

“So…what’s your name?”, you asked, trying to make small talk. “Satoru…Satoru Gojo”, he smiled. Your eyes lit up in shock. “This is who she was talking about”, you thought. The man kept his eyes on you, observing the way you moved. “You have a nice body”, Satoru complimented. He let you dance in front of him some more, before patting his lap. “Come here”, he whispered. You walked over, sitting on him. “Such a good girl”, he said, resting his arms behind his head. He spread his legs, making sure you were lap dancing directly over his cock. “Am I doing ok?”, you asked, twerking on him. Satoru nodded, “More than ok”, he smirked. You continued to dance, feeling him slightly move his hips upwards as he got hard. “Can you stop that?”you asked, getting annoyed.

The man chuckled, “Fine…but can I have your number? I would be glad to have a beautiful lady like you as a gift”. You stopped moving, looking back at him. “Sorry, hun”, you said. “I’m not interested”. You started to dance again, wishing that the time he had left would be over. “Come on, darling”, Satoru grinned. “Don’t you want to get to know me? I’m a very interesting guy”. You rolled your eyes, “Not interested”. He chuckled again, “But why not? I can give you everything you ever wanted. Money…sex…you name it”. Satoru leaned forward, whispering into your ear. “Be a good girl and accept my offer”. Feeling his hand touch your waist, you yelled for the bouncer, getting up quickly. “Hey! Get him out of here”. The large man came in, ordering Gojo to get out. “Times up, man”, he said.

Satoru stayed seated. “No fair, I still have time left”. The bouncer got close to him. “Get out or I’ll throw you out myself”, he threatened. The white haired male looked at him, finding the man funny. “Do you really want to go there?”, he asked, standing up. The two men glared at each other. You watched from the doorway, getting nervous. “Just leave”, you told him. Satoru looked over at you, “Ok, princess”, he said, walking to the door. Before he left out, he stopped, turning his focus on you. “I’ll see you soon”. You felt it in your gut that he wasn’t lying. “What did he mean by that?”, you wondered. The bouncer tried to reassure you. “Don’t worry, y/n. I’ll make sure that bastard doesn’t try anything”. The man walked with you out of the room. “I can’t believe that just happened. What a creep”, you said to yourself. 

❤~Time Skip~❤

You spent the rest of your shift, hanging out with your coworkers as you tried to forget what occurred between you and Gojo. “I heard you got to dance on Satoru”, your friend said. “How was it? Did he leave you a tip? He usually does”. You told her what happened. “For real?”, she said. “That does sound creepy, but don’t take it to heart. He’s usually a jokester”. You didn’t like how unserious she was. “Be serious! What if he kidnaps me or something? You know how desperate these customers can get”, you said. She shrugged her shoulders, telling you that Satoru has a different vibe. “He’s not like that…and besides if he does…you’ll be rich”, she joked. You laughed it off with her, trying to get over it. “All right girls time to go home”, your boss said, closing up the club. The bouncers kicked out any remaining customers, most of whom were bummed out drunk. “About time”, you yawned, stretching. 

You went backstage to change and gather your stuff. “What a day”. Waving goodbye to your coworkers, you left out the back. The night was cold. All you had on were uggs, a crop top hoodie, and leggings. “Why is it so fucking cold?”, you shivered. “I should’ve brought a heavy jacket”. You walked home, hating the fact that you didn’t have a car. “I really need to get a car”. 10 minutes into your walk, you stopped at a convenience store for snacks. “Damn, I’m starving”, You sat at a nearby bus stop, chomping down a bag of chips and some cookies. “What has my life come to?”, you thought. You reflected on life, thinking about your financial situation. Stripping made a decent amount of money, but it wasn’t enough to support everything you needed. “I really need a new job”, you whined. After you were done stuffing your face, you got up, proceeding to head home again.

As you walked past a nearby church, you knew the alley you hated was coming up. It was dark and barely had any lights. You knew another way to go, but this way was quicker. You pulled out your phone, turning on the flashlight. A bunch of cats scattered around as they saw you. Trash was littered everywhere and a few cars passed you by. Just as you were about to turn a corner, a black car pulled up next to you, rolling the windows down. “It’s nice to see you again, princess”. You looked to the side, noticing it was Satoru. “Leave me alone”, you said, walking faster. He drove slowly, following you. “It’s cold out here. Why don’t you get in so I can give you a ride?”, he suggested. You ignored him.

The man sighed, feeling himself getting irritated. “Come on, baby. Don’t be like that. I’m trying to do you a favor”. You kept ignoring him, walking even faster. You were so distracted by him bugging you that you didn’t notice yourself turning the wrong corner. “Fuck! A dead end”, you said. Satoru smiled, taking this opportunity to block you with his car. You turned around to try to walk the other way, but you saw his trap. “What the fuck?”, your heart started to beat fast as fear filled you. “Well, well, well”, the man said, getting out of the car. You backed away, seeing him walk close to you. “Get the hell away from me”, you said. Gojo shook his head. “No can do, princess”. He pulled a white cloth out of his pocket. 

“Get in the car”, he demanded. His usual smug look was gone. You could tell he was being serious. “N-no”, you said. Satoru sighed. “If you want me to be rough with you then just tell me”. He was now getting closer and closer. “This is your last chance”, he warned. “Get. In. The. Fucking. Car”. Seeing an opening, you made the brave decision to run past him. But before you could even make it, he put you in a headlock, smothering you with the cloth. “Just relax”, he said, feeling you struggle. You tried to fight back, kicking him in his leg. “You’re so cute”, he chuckled. Within minutes, you passed out. “Sleep peacefully, princess”. He picked you up, placing you in the trunk of his car. “We’re gonna have so much fun together”.

❤~An Hour Later~❤

You began to wake up. “Ow”, you groaned. Your head was throbbing from the drug Gojo used to knock you out. You blinked a couple of times, scanning the room he put you in. “Looks like my pretty princess is awake”. You noticed Satoru standing in front of a dresser. He had nothing but a blue silk robe on. “Did you sleep well?”, he asked, smiling. “Why am I here?”, you questioned. “Take me home now!”. He didn’t like your tone. “You’re so feisty, y/n”, he chuckled. You were shocked. “How do you know my name?”. The man walked over to the bed you were sitting on. He sat down, reaching for your face. “D-don’t touch me”, you slapped his hand away. Satoru stared at you with a blank expression, tilting his head. “You know…”, he paused. “Your defiance is really starting to piss me off”. 

You scoffed at him. “You think you’re starting to get pissed off? Fuck-”, before you could finish what you were about to say. Gojo slapped you. Your back hit the mattress as you laid there crying. “Don’t test me”, he said. The man got up from the bed, taking off his robe. “Get undressed”, he ordered. You continued to lay there, holding your face. “Now y/n!” Satoru raised his voice. You leaned up, taking off everything but your bra and panties. “Take those off too”, he said. You shook your head, “C-can I please keep these on?”, you asked, voice breaking. “No”, he said simply. The two of you stared at each other in silence. At this moment…you started to realize how serious the situation was. You took off the remaining clothing, making him smile. 

“Good girl”, he said. Gojo walked up to you, grabbing your face. “Don’t cry”, he cooed, seeing the mascara run down your cheeks. He gently laid you down, getting on top of you. “All you have to do is behave and I won’t hurt you”. He kissed your lips, slipping his tongue in your mouth. His hand roamed your body, reaching for your pussy. “Hmm?”, he moaned, pulling away from the kiss. “You’re wet already?”, he smiled. “Did me hitting you turn you on?”.  He slid his fingers in you, thrusting deep into your cunt. You gasped, feeling his long digits explore inside you. Satoru chuckled, “I can make you feel so good”.’

He curled his fingers, hitting your g-spot. “N-no”, you moaned, reaching for his arm. The man grabbed both of your arms, pinning your wrists above your head. “Don’t do that, princess”, he kissed your neck, leaving wet sloppy trails. You blushed, slightly moaning. You could hear him laugh in between each kiss. “You smell so good”, he licked your skin, before roughly biting it. “Ow”, you whimpered. He left a red mark on your flesh, kissing the bruise. His fingers fucked you faster, feeling you clench around him. “That’s it, doll. Cum for me”. Your moans began to get louder and more high pitched. “Fuck”, you whined. Within seconds you came, making Satoru proud. He pulled his fingers out, sticking them in his mouth. “Mmm”, he grinned. 

You breathed heavily, trying to recover from your intense orgasm. “Wasn’t that fun?”, he teased. His hand wrapped around his cock, slowly stroking it. You looked down at it, seeing precum leak from his pink tip. He slapped his dick against your cunt, causing you to twitch. “God, you’re so wet”, he grunted. Without warning, he shoved himself in you. Your walls stretched open. You cried out in pain, begging him to pull out. “P-please pull out. It hurts��. Satoru caressed your face, wiping away a tear that fell from your eye. He sadistically humped you hard, making you whimper even more. “Please”, you squealed. He ignored your begging, continuing to fuck you. The man was rough as he slammed himself into you. “You take me so well”, he groaned. 

The more you cried, the sooner your voice began to die down. Gojo had you flipped on your stomach, his hand restraining your arms behind your back. You sobbed quietly into his pillow, waiting for him to be done with you. The man was fucking you harder now, making your ass clap as his pelvis kept hitting it. He moaned louder, feeling his orgasm arriving. “Fuck…you’re…s-so tight”, he grunted. With a few more thrusts, he spilled his seed into you, filling you up. “Damn”, he huffed. He pulled out of you, watching cum leak down onto his blanket. “You were so good for me, princess”, he said, wiping the sweat from his forehead. 

You laid flat, feeling disgusted. “Can I go home now?”, you asked. He laid beside you, staring into your eyes. “Why do you want to go back?”, he questioned. “You should stay here with me. Like I said sweetface… I can give you anything you want”. He leaned into your face, kissing your lips. “You really want to go back to being a broke stripper?”. You knew he was right. You hated your job and the idea of being with someone with status and money could help you live a better life. “So what do you say?” Satoru asked. You looked at him and nodded. “Ok… I’ll stay with you”.

[lindsaylohanslefttoe]

Things to do when you feel like eating!

Exercise obviously! Go on a walk, do a youtube workout, etc.. Get your body moving.

Start a new hobby!! Painting and using oil pastels are good because your hands will be busy and probably dirty from the supplies.

Scrapbooking or journaling! A brand new journal and some cute stickers is all you need to pass the time. Write about your day, your family, what you ate, what you’ll wear when you’re skinny, etc. You can even give yourself a prompt and that will keep you distracted from the hunger.

Scroll on tiktok.

Scroll on Tumblr and make a new post! Thinspo, bonespo, meanspo, etc.

Look in the mirror and weigh yourself. I’m sure you won’t want to eat after that.

Watch a new movie! or a triggering one. Maybe you could even do a small workout during a movie.

Look at new clothes you’ll buy when you’re skinny!! Make a whole haul. Remind yourself you can’t wear any of that until you lose the weight.

If you have a gaming system, go play!! It won’t take long to forget about the hunger.

Read a book.

Brush your teeth/oil pulling.

Learn how to do your nails or just paint them. Will keep you busy and you won’t be able to eat with wet nails.

House work!! Go clean!! Anything gross that will turn you away from food like cleaning the toilet, cleaning out a litter box, dusting heavily, mopping the dirty floor, etc. This will distract you and disgust you!

Take your pet on a walk.

Learn a new hair style! Braids, buns, fancy stuff. You could dye it, style it, do whatever. You could also learn how to do your makeup. You wouldn’t want to mess that pretty face up with food!

Nap! Simple. You won’t be awake to eat.

Hang out with friends (if it’s a non-food event).

Go window shopping and don’t take any money. You won’t spend money on food and you’ll be out of the house for a while.

Create a new tumblr blog of your interests.

Create a list of things you’ll do or what you’ll wear when you’re skinny.

Shave/wax yourself!

Get a cute coloring book.

Listen to music and/or dance.

Go through your wardrobe and try all your clothes on. Imagine how much better they’d look without all that weight on you.

Get a job!! It’s hard to eat when you’re busy, but be super careful of fast food jobs.

If the hunger is that bad, eat ice, gum, and chug cold water.

Facetime a friend.

Start a new TV show! Young Sheldon, Breaking Bad, PEN15, Keeping up with the Kardashians, etc. There is always something to watch!

I already said clean, BUT CLEAN YOUR ROOM!!! I guarantee it’s probably not clean enough.

Learn how to make friendship bracelets!

Go serve the homeless!! Feed somebody who actually needs fed.

Volunteer at places like a dog shelter or something that interests you that will keep you busy.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Candy Girl 4

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as cheating, age gap, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: as you’re about to take the next step with your boyfriend, doubts begin to arise. (short!plus!reader)

Characters: Thor (boyfriend’s dad/silverfox)

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself. <3

After a quick flight, both thankful to Thor and embarrassed that he witnessed his son’s behaviour, you don’t know if you ever want to go back. As much as you love Magni, you’re not sure if it’s worth it. He never seems to want to do anything but play video games or sex. The latter remains a touchy subject for both of you. 

You’ll let Magni cool off, and yourself. 

This isn’t the end. You would know if it was. You send him your usual texts. Good mornings, good nights, and check in when you can. His lack of response isn’t unusual. He’s probably playing around with his bike again. You wonder if he’s figured out how to put it back together yet. 

The days pass in a blur. You have work to keep you busy. With summer in full swing, you have more than enough driving around to do. 

Between deliveries, your mind wanders. You’ll have to talk to him face-to-face, get this sorted out. You're not mad at him. It was a bad morning and a strange night. You can move past it. Right? 

You grab the next order and check the address as you get in your front seat. Huh, it’s in Magni’s neighbourhood. Maybe you can swing by and surprise him. 

You turn the engine and blast your stereo. Rihanna pumps from the speakers, a bit scratchy, but still a bop. You hunch over the wheel as you follow the rush hour traffic, tapping the breaks as you crawl along. Finally, you get to a turn off and dip down some side streets.  

You turn down the A/C as the car begins to shake. You don’t use the air much, your old beater doesn’t much like any extra stress. You turn down the volume and give an anxious look to the venting in the hood. That’s not smoke, you’re just imagining things. 

Before the job, you couldn’t tell left from right but now the whole city is imprinted in the back of your head. You know which orders to make quickly and ones where you can leave the car unlocked while you run up to the door. Magni’s is the latter. 

You roll down the avenue lazily and come up before a big white house, squinting at the number on the front door. You get out and stretch, just a few more hours. You grab the insulated bag and the paper bag with the cans of soda. You bounce up the front steps and balance it all as you ring the bell. 

You wait, glancing around at the lush greenery. It’s kind of lame to dream of living in a place like this. Basic, your friends tease, but you just want to know what it’s like. Maybe it’s just as bad as what you have, just painted up nice. 

You can’t really complain. You have a roof and food and job. Could be a lot worse. 

The door opens and jolts you from your internal turmoil. You blink and step back, once more looking around. You know for sure you didn’t go to the wrong house. Thor’s house isn’t even the same colour. So what is he doing there? 

“Ah, little one, I was hoping it would be you,” he booms. 

“Huh?” You make a dumb face. 

“I thought it’d be a fun surprise,” he grins, “my friend’s,” he points up then reaches into his back pocket, “they suggested pizza and I told them I knew just the place.” 

“Oh, wow, thanks,” you smile and unzip the bag. 

“Hmm,” he hums as he counts out bills, “funny, they got a little thing like you carrying around all that.” 

“Mr. Odinson,” you chirp, “I’m not that small.” 

“Suppose most people are too me,” he grins and holds out the money, “keep the change.” 

You accept the bills with the pizza against your hip and the paper bag on top. You blink dumbly at the folded bills. He can’t be serious. 

“Mr. Odinson.” 

“Thor,” he purrs. 

“Thor, er, I think you miscounted.” 

“I didn’t, I have generous friends,” he shrugs, “we put in together. Now,” he reaches to take the paper bag, “allow me to relieve your burden.” 

You gulp and tuck away the money. You finish unzipping the bag and slide out the pizzas. It’s awkward as the boxes are so big. He gets closer to help and you slide them right into his hand. As you finish unsheathing them, he steps back. 

“How about you have a slice before you go?” He offers, “you have much to go?” 

“Halfway through,” you fold the empty bag against your stomach, “that’s real nice, but they time us.” 

“Oh, too bad,” he nods, “well, I suppose I’ll see you... haven’t lately. Not that I can blame you.” 

“Oh, uh, I’ve been real busy,” you say, not a complete lie. Still, you have been avoiding it. 

“Yes, you work hard. Wish I could say the same of Magni.” 

“Sorry,” you frown. 

“Sorry? For him? He’s not your responsibility. Only myself to blame, I am his father,” he sighs, “anyhow, don’t let me keep you.” 

“Thanks again,” you try to brighten up. “I’m... I’m going to talk to Magni tomorrow. It's my day off.” 

“Ah, yes, well, I hope it isn’t a waste of time,” he resigns and gives a wave. 

He stays at the door as you turn away, his words ominous as they leave an unsettling flutter in your chest. You hop down the steps and open the back door of your car. You toss the empty bag inside and close it, getting in the front.  

You shove the key in the ignition and twist. The engine rumbles but doesn’t flip. You huff and try again, leaning your weight into the effort. As the motor kick, you look up to find Thor still watching you from the porch. 

The engine turns and you sigh in relief. As you go to shift into reverse, there’s a pop, then a bag, and several more noises. The exhaust puffs one last time and the engine dies. No! No! Not now baby. We made it so far. 

You get out as black smoke plumes around the edges of the hood and you hear a shuffle from the porch. Shoot, shoot, shoot. Thor puts the pizza down on the bench and hurries down to you. As if you haven’t embarrassed yourself enough in front of him. 

“You alright?” He asks. 

“Yeah, fine,” you pout, “I’m not worried about me.” 

“Hm, may I?” He gestures to the hood. You shrug. 

He pops it open and moves the stick to prop it up. He waves away the smoke and squints through it. You cross your arms and stand back. You wouldn’t know where to begin. 

“Hmm, lucky it wasn’t a full blown fire. Fuel lines are rotten,” he says and moves out of the path of the smoke. “One finally burst.” 

“Oh,” you mope, “no...” 

“Sorry, little one, it’ll need a professional.” 

“Uh, at least... I guess the tip will help with that,” you sniff, “but... I gotta work. What am I gonna tell Karl?” 

“Karl?” He echoes curiously. 

“My manager,” you utter, “and my parents...” You look at him, “sorry, this isn’t your problem.” 

“I would gladly take it on,” he assures you, “why don’t you call Karl, tell him you’re having some difficulties, you can’t finish your shift.” 

“Urgh,” you frame your forehead in frustration, “but...” 

“I know someone who can look at the car. I’ll give him a call.” 

“Oh gee,” you huff and turn your head up, dropping your hands. “This isn’t happening.” 

“Don’t worry, little one, I will take care of it. Please, it’ll be alright.” 

You look at him again. It isn’t his responsibility and you shouldn’t let him but you don’t have much of a choice. What else are you going to do? Borrow Magni’s broken motorcycle? 

“Right, I’ll... I’ll call my boss.” 

“Please, I don’t like to see you upset,” he says, “call him then have some pizza and I’ll take you to mine. You can make up with Magni, eh? At least that’s something.” 

“Thank you, Mr. Odinson,” you give a bittersweet smile, “really, you don’t have to do all that.” 

“Ah, but why wouldn’t I?” He winks and turns away, “Bucky!” 

He stomps up the steps and pulls open the door, the pizza forgotten on the bench. He calls the same name again and you take out your phone. At least Karl is a nice guy. He’ll let you make it up once you get your car running again. 

[leonscape]

the ways of the ikepri househusbands

jin has no problem that his wife is the main breadwinner of the family. he doesn’t mind staying home and taking care of their household. he takes his duties very seriously, even if it may not seem like it. people are often surprised when they see an intimidatingly burly man doing domestic house work. he’s the type to not wear a shirt but wear and apron while cooking lol.

chevalier is the tidiest househusband. every centimeter of the house is abnormally tidy. not a spec of dust to be seen anywhere. you could take a white glove and test any surface, any area and the glove would remain pristine. he always prepares meals in advance, especially breakfast since he doesn’t wake up early enough for it. when he finishes his chores, he quietly reads until his hard working wife comes home from work.

clavis is a proud househusband. he likes to brag about your career achievements. he picks up little skills here and there by taking classes and also from self study. he’s gone to many cooking classes but he still insists that he knows what he’s doing in the kitchen. but he also goes to knitting/crocheting or sewing classes so he makes you little plushies and stuff.

leon has always encouraged you to do your best. eventually, money wasn’t a problem and leon started taking over the household chores to help ease the pressure on you. he always makes sure that you have enough food and get enough rest. he also gives really good massages. and imo he’s a person that can’t sit still so i think he would either still have a little side hustle of some sort? whether he works part time from home, or he has his own little business? maybe he makes furniture and sells it or something idk.

yves still worries about what other people say. he’s happy he can help you. but sometimes he gets insecure when people criticize his lifestyle choices. he loves to cook and bake so he naturally took on the housework. he makes meal menus for the week so you know what you’re having for dinner everyday. he mostly spends his days making and perfecting his recipes.

licht doesn’t really like just being a househusband. he feels like he needs to do more. he needs to support you more but you reassure him that he’s doing his best. maybe he’s not the best at cooking but he’s getting better. he stopped setting the stove on fire last month. now he’s working on learning how to season the food.

nokto likes being a househusband. he keeps the home clean and cozy, ready to welcome you home. (sorry i don’t actually know a lot about him so i’m just gonna say whatever comes to mind.) he strikes me as a rich wine aunt rather uncle in his case and he likes to paint too. i think he’d throw parties or some kind of gatherings so he can make friends and such.

luke is the ultimate househusband. homemade meals, always warm and comforting. he likes sewing too so he learns how to make you clothes. of course he makes matching couple outfits too. he probably starts a garden so he can grow some food.

rio malewife he’s the best househusband you could ask for. he would do anything for you so when you asked him if he wanted to be a househusband, he happily agreed. he can do paperwork, cook, clean, fix things, develop skills on the spot if you wished for it.

this is getting too long lmk if y’all want sariel, gilbert, keith, and silvio

[artinvain]

𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔴𝔬𝔩𝔣 𝔬𝔣 𝔴𝔞𝔩𝔩 𝔰𝔱𝔯𝔢𝔢𝔱 (pt. 1)

sevika x reader modern au (fluff & weed smoking… mdni)

characters: sevika x reader, silco & vander .

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓₓ˚. ୭

when sevika joins one of the biggest financial firms in her district, it’s not a big deal to her. it’s not her passion, but she makes money, work is stupidly easy for her, she lives way over comfortably and if she wants she can choose her own hours. of course — she keeps to a basically military routine, she likes it, it helps her stop thinking. about her dad, where her mom could be, the last person she loved.

she’s waiting to meet up with the same old college buddies she always does. they meet at a dispensary cafe maybe once or twice a week. but sevika goes almost everyday — because it also helps her not think.

when she walks in vander and silco are making a noise in their usual nook, greeting her with hugs and a cig to start. when they were all together like this they became idiots. usually intellectual conversations about philosophy or politics, the latest in news, the latest in their lives and careers. but here it was babble filled laughter and no thoughts at all.

“do you guys want coffee or some of the stuff on the munchies menu?”

your voice is new, vander and silco quieten down in her ears as she looks up at you, the sun shining like a halo bouncing around your locs. she wants to say something, tell you you’re pretty. It’s what she usually does when she sees a girl she likes. flirts like crazy but now sevika can’t say a goddamm thing.

it’s the way you’re looking at her and only her. your lip bitten and a small smile poking through as you notice she’s staring. and you can’t help but look on with some strange affection, her soft dark skin, muscles underneath it flexing. her grey eyes — so unusual, smoky and cool. your manager had told you she was a regular so if you wanted a tip you needed to be nice. to sevika you are lovely — she can’t really describe it but you make her blush.

when you walk away with their orders, the boys are immediately hounding her. “would you have preferred vander and i left the both when you did all that?”

“I - did you - are you fucking blushing?” silco laughs so hard he’s coughing and slapping vander’s arm when she rolls her eyes. “my hearts, my stars, my god — you are! I haven’t seen you look like this in years,” he gasps.

“weed makes you overly dramatic, silco,” she retorts gulps gratefully at a bottle of water while vander continues

“seriously though, you’re looking at her like you have something other than ice in your veins” vander howls at himself

silco lights up his cigarette and leans back, “come now vander, sevika’s just afraid of her feelings, if anything — her blood burns too hot-“

“shut up.” sevika mumbles. it’s not untrue, she’d bounced around from girlfriend to girlfriend, but no one ever stuck and she never seemed to mind. the sex was good — sometimes okay. they never could quite match her though. “it’s not my fault I don’t get along with them,”

“oh yes it’s always something - no banter, not intellectual enough — but I think -“

“yes, what do you think vander?” sevika spits with a snarl

“I think you’re sabotaging yourself.” he says more seriously than intended. she has nothing to say. no remark - she can’t explain away a truth they’d been skirting around whenever it came to sevika’s love life. they’d been badgering her about settling down for once, let herself be known outside of their little trio.

“drop it, vander,” she glares and he only rolls his eyes leaning forward to snatch a lighter in her hand for his joint.

it just has to be then that you walk back to their table, startled by the sudden silence as you hand out their snacks. “is everything okay?” you ask and Sevika’s smile is small but fleeting.

“do you have a strain that can lift the mood?” ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙

sevika greets you by name every time she comes in now, over tips you, pulls you into conversation when she knows you should be working but she knows your boss and he’ll let it slide for her.

“so, how’s the wolf of wall street?” you whistle handing sev a clear vile with her joint in it. “you have to stop calling me that,” sevika laughs, loosening the deep blue, tie, embroidered with silver stars around her neck. “but you are! you told me yourself you’re up at 6am every day to make your matcha latte before gym, and you look at your stocks, in your giant loft —“

sevika laughs albeit a little nervously at your teasing “I did not say I had a loft,” and you smile at her coyly scratching her neck. “but am I wrong?” you ask and she ducks her head, her shoulder moving with her laughter.

“ah fuck,” she groans with a smile “leave me alone,” sev says jokingly, and you roll your eyes “okay, if you really want me to.”

but you don’t move, and sevika doesn’t say anything. she’s just looking at you, taking you in — grateful your job doesn’t have a uniform so she can see you in your wide leg pants, dark green flowers springing forth and your tight top — purple, strappy and your breasts, pressed up against them. she looks away from a moment and you chuckle having seen where her eyes ended they’re tour of you.

“you look pretty today,” sev mumbles, taking a sip of water.

“thank you sev, you look pretty put together yourself — meeting with investors ?”

“yeah,” she grunts, “something like that — I don’t know, first time I’ve felt off my game. the company’s just very white and male. I don’t know if I got the deal.” she stretches her neck, “and I hate failing,” she lets slip. furrows her eyebrows at herself because why would she tell you that?

“hey, you’re good at your job, or you wouldn’t be up for a promotion,” she shrugs at your response “plus,” you sit down next to her, “if anything you can depend on the diversity token,” you smirk and nudge her with your elbow, smoke billows out of her mouth as she laughs. coughing slightly before sitting up straight.

“I know it must be annoying, always having to shape yourself up into this heterosexual role,” you sigh, sev offers you some of her joint and you take it without question, knowing it was just you and andy your co-worker today,

“and your jobs are always with all these white, men determining whether you look good enough or if you’re well spoken enough, it’s bullshit,” you sigh and sevika nods

“it’s like I’m never doing well enough I’m tired of it,” she responds.

“you should be tired of it, but you are,” you say firmly, “good enough — don’t let them define you sev, your work shows that you’re good for it.”

“thanks,” she smiles, she’d heard it before but it felt different coming from you, because you understand her. you’re not just trying to make her feel better. it is bullshit and you let her know that it’s okay to feel that way.

“vander and silco don’t really understand it. i mean don’t get me wrong they try. but they’ll never really know.” sevika sighs and takes the j back from you when you offer it with a smile.

“I get that,” you nod and tie your locs up out of your face. “hey, I have to go check on that table,” you spot a couple with their coffee cups empty. “but I’ll be back,”

she turns the words over in her head. she didn’t ask you to, but you were coming back to her — like you always did. the first to check in on her when she came in and rarely did you leave her without at least some conversation, even when the cafe was busy. you grab sev’s hand and give it a tight squeeze and it jolts sevika’s body feeling your soft hand in hers, so warm and you trace a circle on the back of her hand that she can feel long after you’ve pulled away.

sevika should be at home by now, instead she’s following you around, watching you clean counter tops and pack away snacks for the night shift to open later.

“so, I told andy like I can’t take her every table just because she doesn’t feel like serving — do I have something on my face?” you stop rubbing at a sticky spot on the table where someone spilled something, staring at her quizzically as she looks down at you.

“no,” she smiles and then her eyes dart nervously around the room, “sorry, I was just… looking at you.” you don’t say anything for a moment, “I think you’re really pretty,” she says nervously. she hadn’t complimented someone so gently in a while. it’d all been heated praises while her hands were guided to someone’s neck. so sev chuckles uncomfortably and turns her head to stare at a painting when you say forger.

“I could have painted that. like better probably,” she says and when she looks back at you, your standing so close to her she can feel your breath on her neck.

“I think you’re beautiful,” you say, and sevika chokes on her words. she’d always been “sexy” or “hot” or “super attractive” but no one had called her beautiful. cupping her cheek so softly and with no intent.

“I just was never sure how you felt, so I didn’t say anything,” you said, and sevika holds her hand over yours, looking down at you and smiling sheepishly as you lean up and kiss the side of her mouth. “I like you,” you grin at her blush and the way she tumbles over her words.

“of course yeah, i um - do you want to come back to my place?” she rushes out and a pit forms in her stomach when you blink slowly and swallow.

“I’m sorry, did I just ruin everything?” sevika asks bluntly and you shake your head, she holds your hand to her cheek, hoping you don’t pull away.

“no it’s fine. I want to, I do. but, I’ve done that a lot recently, I mean finishing my masters it was really bad. I kind of want something real,” you say shyly, trying and failing to pull away from sevika,

“we can take it slow,” what the fuck is she thinking. she’s never taken it slow. her longest relationship was three months and she fucked it up because she always priorities work. but, you’re beautiful and kind and smart and funny and she doesn’t know if she can just let you go. at least not that easily.

“let me take you home,” sevika offers as you lock up, the sun’s not down yet but she doesn’t want you to go. you agree and whistle when you jump into her jeep.

“wolf of Wall Street— this is impressive,” sevika rolls her eyes with a smile and turns her car on.

“just fucking give me the directions,” she answers and you laugh, getting your maps out “it’s not far from here,” you say.

“if you’re not busy, maybe you can come inside, talk and have some tea or — I don’t know, maybe not-“

“no yes. I would love to,” she replies eagerly, making her way down to your place, following the maps stoic directions.

“so you said you could paint something better than what’s in the shop?” you turn to her and she blushes — she shouldn’t have said that.

“I used to paint, and sketch,” she admits, used to as if she didn’t pick up her charcoal for the first time in months to sketch every detail of your soft face.

you nod, looking around her clean car, it didn’t look like one of an artist “you should show me sometime,” you mumble and flick the boulder of the sisyphus bobble head stuck to her dash. “this is a really fucking specific bobble head,”

sevika laughs and agrees, “I got it in greece at some really overpriced tourist shop. I don’t know, vander and silco got something too, all philosophy shit because we’re—“

“really pretentious,” you laugh and she nods along “yeah yeah. we all met in our first year greek mythology course and then again in philosophy and we kind of just stuck together. and I never buy myself anything so I figured.”

“why this though? why the reminder of eternal punishment on your dashboard, every day?”

“other than the fact that it reminds me of my oldest friends?”

it’s not like you didn’t understand. you have an embroidered quilt of plath’s fig tree poem hanging in your kitchen.

“yeah, other than that,” you dig, you know there’s something more there.

“I don’t know, I felt like I was sisyphus for a long time,” she admits. something about your aura was so damn relaxing, like she could say anything around you and you wouldn’t care. “I had accepted that I had to suffer.” she drums her thumbs on the steering wheel, “that being who I am was some cosmic punishment, but then. I don’t know I figured if my boulder was who I am, I’d have to keep pushing it, even if people failed to see how light it is to me,”

you nod, finally satisfied with her answer and look over at her. she doesn’t feel like she has anything more to say. and for once she isn’t scrambling for charmed words or flirtation, she just lets herself listen to you breathe.

“paradoxical but that’s what it is to be brown and queer in this world huh,” you say and sevika nods falling into a comfortable silence until you reach your flat.

a small victorian brick building, that’s much bigger when you’re inside. stairs leading up to what you explain are two other apartments. the tenants quiet but very nice and hardly home. you walk her down the passage to your apartment door.

she’s greeted by warmth and the smell of fading incense. you turn on orange lamps and a sunset one in the living room,

“you can put your jacket on the stand there,” you say, looking at her from over the kitchen island. “and take your shoes off, please,”

sevika complies and feels a tight knot it her stomach. nerves. why is she nervous when she knows you two won’t be doing anything. the way you’d seen through her in the car, you wanted to know her, not just her body and that scared the shit out of her. should she just leave? she’s ready to put her shoes back on when you walk past her into the living room with a tray, a teapot and two cups and some honey. it’s so sweet she decides against herself to sit down on your couch beside you.

she looks around while you pour her tea, the couch is plush, you’re venitian carpeting soft under her socks. you have a feature wall painted dark green and covered in abstract paintings and one family portrait.

“that you?” sevika asks, making out our plump cheeks and toothy grin, as you lean over who she assumes in your father. she thanks you for the tea and takes a sip of the warmth,

“yeah,” you smile, “my brother is late, but my sister lives like two streets down,”

“I’m so sorry,” she offers and gently lays a hand on your shoulder. you take it and kiss the back of her hand.

“shit, sorry,” you apologise and let go off her, but she wants you to do it again, can feel the outline of your lips tingling on her hand. “s’okay,” she nods and keeps her hand on your shoulder.

“viktor was my adopted brother, he was really sick.” you stop there and turn to her with a watery smile. “I loved him a lot,”

she can tell. nods solemnly and lets you have a moment, and then your laughing a little embarrassed and wiping your eyes.

“It was a long time ago, sorry,”

“don’t be,” sev says, “I wanna know you,” she smiles and you smirk back at her, your cheeky attitude back in play, “then ask me a question,” you say, she doesn’t know where to start because she has a million.

“how’d you know you were… I don’t know sapphic?” she asks tentatively. “well, I’ve known I was a lesbian since I was like twelve. there was this girl I alway hung out with —“ you’re smiling fondly and sevika lays over your words.

“yeah?” sevika answers getting ready for your story.

she leaves way too late, all you two did was talk and laugh and she hadn’t checked her stocks or taken any calls and she can’t remember the last time she wasn’t always working, even partially, even in her free time. when she gets home she’s on her laptop until midnight, taking an international meeting and all the while, all she can think about is sitting and watching the rest of the stupid magician show she’d started with you before she saw the time.

when she clambers into bed, for the first time she notices how cool the spot beside her is. she bundles herself up in pillows and falls asleep with you on her mind.

·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙

”I wanna take you on a date,” sevika smiles leaning on the counter where you’ve just finish letting a group of friends pay.

“you do?” you ask, “you doing it because you think I’ll give you discounts ?”

“I know you’ll give me discounts,” she laughs “I got something for you,” she pulls out a novel from her work satchel. “I know you wanted a physical to have, but you said you were too distracted to get one so”

the picture of dorian gray. inside the first page were names of people who had had the book before you, dating back to ‘97. you’d wanted a hard cover since you’d read it a year ago. but she’d gone above and beyond getting you a thrifted version, you liked the idea of a hand me down of something so many others like you had enjoyed and now you had one and she knew that. the thought made your heart thump.

“where did you get this?” you ask, touching over the names of all the people who’d signed it,

“just looked at like four different second hand book stores,” she shrugs and looks on fondly as you excitedly flip through the annotated pages.

“thank you!” you lean over the counter and kiss her cheek.

“and not that that was a bribe or anything but-“

“I obviously want to go on a date with you vika,” she blushes at the nickname, her heart beating a little faster. “yeah?” “yeah,” you nod and jump at andy’s snide remark for you to start your shift.

“I’ll pick you up after work,” she taps on the counter and smiles widely, the bell on the cafe door ringing loudly in her ears as she exits. for the first time in a long time, she’s more than just living. the air smells fresh, colours and bright and her heart is pumping hard, hot blood coursing to her cheeks as she thinks of you. tonight, tonight, tonight.

okay next chapter is the date and maybe a sexy little smut scene hehehe or angst. who knows? not even me. 🏷️ @iamaboringrattat @archangeldyke-all @sevsbaby @sapphicsgirl @bimboprincezz @opropheticsoul @ariariarr @sexysapphicshopowner

[lemonchuu]

𝐒𝐞𝐚 𝐨𝐟 𝐋𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 || 𝐑𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐞 𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐜𝐡𝐢 || 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭: 𝐁𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐮𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐃𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐟𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬 (𝐆𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐧)

the dusty blond merman in your rickety old boat chuckles shrilly as you glare at him while struggling to row the damn thing, the tip of his tail occasionally dipping itself into the water to splash you. “shishishi, guess you’re all talk and no bite, huh?” he starts as you spit out the water that got into your mouth and groan. “shut up,” you responded before stopping. “this is the place you told me about. what’s going on?” 

“look below the boat,” he starts as you nod, peering over the edge to see the water turn a bright shade of blue. “it’s called the glowing gems. we eat it, once in a bit, because they’re not really meant to be eaten, but humans shouldn’t touch it.” you hum at the word of caution appreciatively, tucking your hands into the boat. “there are some kinds of peeps who eat it, some who don’t. i used to eat it when i was little and there were the hard days.” 

“can’t believe human systems of the rich trampling the poor made it all the way down there,” you chuckle sadly as you look at the blond merman from the periphery of your eye. “well,” he responds as nonchalantly as he can, “a lot of peeps said we were their descendants, of this one ancient city that collapsed or something. i dunno, though. that theory’s popular up in the capitol, where they’ve got the time and the money to invest into this nonsense.” 

“you don’t live in the capitol? then where do you live?” you asked, eyes wide. “me? i live in this cave system a bit outside. don’t tell me you’re worried for little old me,” the blond merman adds and smirks, pointy teeth glistening under the moonlight, his hair more silver than gold afloat on the boat. “you ‘ve got your own problems, don’t you?” 

“doesn’t mean i can’t feel sorry for the pain you’re going through,” you murmur as you reach out to him slowly, pausing halfway for his approval. with a flushed face and a slight harrumph, the merman lets you indulge your curiosity with his face and his hair, stroking his face gently before moving towards his hair. there’s little need for any words at this point- the merman’s trust is not easily given, you feel, and you want to receive as much of it as you can. even though you know he’ll probably never come back to the surface world. 

behind you, the skies turn a muted orange, and the first signs of life on land begin to appear, with the cawing of the crows and the sea birds, and of the weary fisherman who have to make their way to the ocean for another day’s worth of work. the merman pulls away from your touch, and for a second, you feel rejected, before closing your eyes. “we have no more time,” he murmurs, caressing your cheeks like you did before throwing his tail overboard into the water. 

“i’ll see you soon, pretty. and before you give me a name of your own, though i’d like that, to be honest- the name’s ruggie. ruggie bucchi. don’t you forget that, hmm?” kissing you on the cheek, he tips the boat just enough to fall into the water, and as the sun finally comes up, there’s no evidence of ruggie bucchi ever existing. But his hands are warm on your face, and so is the lilting kiss on your cheek.

[left-myself-in-the-alleyway]

I feel so physically ill with anxiety right now I can hardly think

[iknowwhereyousleepatnight]

hey guys just doodling the guy again (i am booed offstage)

[dramarants]

Wanting more homoeroticism in the tension between the show’s leads as the narrative introduces greater intimacy and higher stakes between them, especially in a landscape that lacks queer representation who isn’t a villain or dies within one or two episodes, but also recognizing that core values/motivation for these characters lie in their relationships with one of two major female characters in an on screen sausage fest where the only other woman is a morally reprehensible femme fatale and erasing and/or vilifying female leads in favor of conventionally attractive males is a common practice observed in fandoms that’s rooted in misogyny and justified under the guise of rejecting heteronormativity, thinly veiled double standards, or claiming the woman is simply not interesting enough and not wanting to bolster that mindset

[chheese-mmmhh]

am i hoping for bad things to happen to watcher? no!!! absolutely not!!! i really hope they continue to do great and pull in more people HOWEVER do i foresee bad things happening? yeah for sure…like just on a business level this was a horrible move and i have such mixed emotions because i WANT good things for them but that just…won’t happen

[blessthishouse]

I wish working didn’t make me feel so anxious. I always take longer than everyone else to finish my tasks and it reminds me of being in school and getting left behind (and isolated) for not being able to keep up. I didn’t have a good experience with my very first job and I think with what’s been happening lately, I need to continue working through that experience

[ciderjacks]

Can we kill the whole “no attention on artwork is sad and means it was a waste of time” thing? Like Seriously can we kill it. I put a fuckton of effort into my art and it usually gets like, 10 likes, and that doesn’t really matter to me bc I love making it. I’m grateful for nice comments, but I’m gonna keep making the stuff I make regardless.

Like ok I’m not trying to sound all holier than thou here, but the amount of artists online who say stuff like “this artwork was a flop, so I’m feeling really discouraged” is making me go crazy. Is that all it is for you guys? Content? When you’re making artwork are you just making content for an audience? No offence but I feel like that’s a huge fucking waste of time, way more than making art you like and getting minimal attention on it.

[carpisuns]

theOrEticalLy . if I opened commissions at some point. would there be. a smackerel of interest . ??

[spookykestrel]

Chat how soon is too soon to return to a job after being thrown a goodbye celebration under the pretense of you moving across the country 🫣