#i know we sell em at work but money

[autoneurotic]

my family is cute and funny. my dad got my a quarter of Very Good Weed for my birthday <3

[stairset]

Microdosing on having money by looking at virtual tours of apartments I can’t afford

[shotmrmiller]

Needs must

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader

WC: 2.1K

TW: prostitution, explicit fingering, and smut-ish.

ive got 4 other ideas for this goddamn escort au and one of em is MY BOY JOHNNY. oof i cant wait. im mad it took me this long to do this. I wrote this listening to rich sex by nicki minaj.

You had needs. No matter how magical, a toy can only do so much for you. You wanted the praise of another human being—the warm touch of their hands around your waist, your neck. God, you needed to get laid. But after the disaster that was your last relationship, how nasty it ended, you couldn’t even ring your ex-girlfriend up for a booty call. 

Sucking your teeth, you look at your phone. Noon. Well, maybe one of your friends you’re about to meet up with for a weekly Saturday brunch knew someone who would be interested in a no-strings-attached situationship.

—

Flipping the card in your hands,  you chewed on your bottom lip in deliberation and looked down at the business card— the color of bone with raised black lettering. Ghost, it read, with his number on the back. How you ended up with this in your hand made you almost regret having reprobates for friends. An escort. That’s what they had shamelessly suggested. You had almost choked on your eggs benedict when one of them pulled out a contact card from their wallet and placed it by your mimosa. I mean, really. Preparing to argue about their lack of sense, they brought up a great point. It was either this, someone who was there for what you needed whenever you needed it, or your toys which were in a pathetic state from constant use. Your ex called it quits because you simply couldn't find the time to maintain a proper relationship— your demanding job took up most of it. You couldn’t believe you were about to do this.

Ghost. What a name. But you suppose it didn’t matter what his name was, only that he could do his job, and with the way your friend gushed over him— he’d leave you walking side to side. You needed this. You worked too hard for too many hours to not spend your money on some self-care. 

Fuck it. Maybe he will be just a one-time thing, you thought, and sent his number a text. 

—

Closing the door of your car, you briskly walk towards the small cafe Ghost had sent the address to; A cute little quaint coffee shop. Coming to a stop, you straighten your office skirt and run a hand through your hair before opening the door. Breathing in the coffee aroma, you look around for who you’re looking for, spotting him sitting in the back. The click of your heels echoes inside the cafe, catching the attention of your awaiting companion. He looks up and rises to stand, and it takes you aback. It was like witnessing a grizzly standing on its hind legs. Jesus.

He was tall, so tall, and broad. Wearing a black beanie and covering the lower half of his face with a mask, he extends his arm out to shake your hand, and you internally scream at how shapely his arm alone looks over his long-sleeved shirt. 

“I’m Ghost. It’s a pleasure, love.” 

Choking back a moan at his accent, you put your hand in his and say, “No, I’m sure it’ll be all mine.” You can see his dark eyes crinkle at your quip. 

“If we get through this smoothly, the next time we meet I’ll make sure of it.” 

As you let out a playful laugh, Ghost reaches for the back of your chair, pulling it out with a chivalrous gesture. “And a gentleman? You definitely know how to sell yourself.” 

“No, love. This is just a common courtesy. I don’t need t’tell you that I’m good,” and in one smooth motion, he extracts a sleek, forest green matte folder from the leather business bag lying at his feet.

“I need this filled out, just the usual— hard and soft limits. Safewords, nicknames, allergies, and so on.” You pick up the folder and open it, skimming over the contents of the front page. 

“This really is your job.” You flick your eyes from the folder to him and he’s already looking at you, watchful and steady. 

“O’ course it is. I take my clients, and future clients, seriously. I enjoy wha’ I do but it will never be at the cost of another. I will not make you uncomfortable in any way, nor risk your health. I aim to please you, not the other way around. And I cannot do tha’ if I don’t know tha’ you’re allergic to latex or completely against something I might do.” 

He gives a slight cough, and you divert your attention from the paper and meet his gaze. “What’s a pretty thing like you seeking out someone who offers these types of services?” and a lighthearted chuckle escapes you.

“The same reason the one who gave me your card did— just looking for a good time, no commitment.” 

He raises his eyebrows at that but makes no further comment. Smart man. Glancing at your wrist, you check the time. “Right,” and lean forward to get up when Ghost shoots up from his chair to pull out yours. “I’ll have your folder ready for you by the weekend,” and turn your head to face him.

“Is that when you’ll want this, then?” and you give a casual shrug. 

“If you happen to be available.” He reaches out and gently grabs your hand to pull you in for a tight embrace. Softly, he whispers in your ear, “I’ll be seeing you then, love.”

You leave with a silly little grin on your face.

—

The weekend comes and you’re a puddle of nerves. You can’t remember the last time someone made you this anxious. The knock on your door startles you out of your inner ramblings. It’s time. Taking in a deep, calming breath, you open it. 

Ghost calmly walks in, and starts taking off his mask, and then leather jacket.

“I’ve one absolute limit I forgot to mention,” he says in a firm tone. “I do not kiss. It is not a negotiation.” 

Well, you couldn’t give a damn if he didn’t. Nonchalantly, you shrug and say, “And mine is that we always use a condom.” With a nod and a chuckle, he eagerly grabs the folder from your table and starts flipping through its pages.

“A’right, love. Go get on the bed f’me.” The smirk he gives you is positively wicked. “I saw tha’ you have like to be told wha’ to do.” He jerks his chin towards your room. “And take everything off.” With nervous excitement, you run off, haphazardly tossing your clothes on the floor.

—

Eyes covered with a blindfold, all you hear is your shaky breathing and his footsteps on your plush rug. Your nerves feel exposed, raw. As you lie on the bed, you suddenly feel a firm grip on the flesh of your thighs, causing your skin to break out in goosebumps. The room's cool air contrasts with the warm heat radiating from his touch, pulling a hiss from your lips as he pulls you toward the edge of the bed.

“Atta girl, love. Open your legs f’me, lemme see that pretty pussy.” The lack of eyesight helps you to focus on his touch alone, making you fearless, and your legs drop open without hesitation as you lie on your back.

“Look at tha’. Aren’t you just a dream? Hm?” he puts his hands on your knees, keeping your thighs open, wet cunt exposed. “And you waxed, too. Hope tha’ wasn’t f’me.” You feel a fingertip slide from your hood, down to your clit and hole, spreading your juices around the labia and back up. Your nerves are on fire, your pussy clenching around nothing, forcing juices to drip down to your arsehole.

“A’right, pretty. Touch yourself. Shove your tiny little fingers into your,” he pauses to suck the skin of your inner thigh, “cunt and show me how to make you feel good.” He then moves his mouth closer to where you need it most, and bites. Are you defying me? Did you suddenly become deaf as well, once I blindfolded you?” and you aggressively shake your head. 

“No! No, sir. I hear you, loud and clear.” With a tight squeeze to your thighs, he says, “Then do as I say.” Moaning, you slowly bring your hand down, starting from your chest. Your palms rub against your pebbled nipples, down to your soft stomach, until your fingertips meet your swollen nub, then move in soft, tight circles, mewling at the feeling. The groan that reaches your ears is so lewd, you could come from that alone. 

“Tha’s it, baby. You’re doing so well. Look at how wet you are, fuck, show me just how you like it.” And you do. A vulgar noise comes from your hole once you stuff yourself with one finger, slowly stretching, before adding another. It’s something, but not enough, not what you want. Not thick enough, long enough, and that thought makes you whimper in disappointment. 

“Aw, are your fingers not satisfying? I’ll help you, sweet, only because you look so delicious spread out f’me like this. So vulnerable, bare.” His breath fans over your cunt, over your clit, and it sends a jolt up your spine— but he doesn’t move, doesn’t touch. It feels like you’ve been waiting for hours until he finally, finally, pushes a thick finger into you, and curls it, rubbing against the right spot, over and over, and then pushes in a second, threatening to tip you over the peak. The feeling is intense —your walls clench around him firmly in your rising pleasure.

“Oh, g-god, Ghost pleasepleaseplease,” squealing as you fuck yourself on his hand, and when your hypersensitive nerves pick up on the sensation of his scorching mouth on your clit, with a pulsating suction, your muscles tighten and tremble, to the point of pain, until Ghost gives one hard suck, forcibly pushing you off the edge. The wail you let out is ear-splitting— as ecstasy slams into your body, like waves crashing at shore. Your thighs squeeze Ghost’s head irrationally tight, but he doesn’t care, just groaning into your core, lapping up your juices like a dehydrated man who’s found an oasis. Your body stings— prickles from the vicious high you’re riding—chest heaving with sobs from the sheer force of it, fingernails digging into Ghost’s scalp, yanking on his hair. As your soul melts back into your body, you absentmindedly thank all the bloody gods for having friends who really do look out for you. 

Whimpering pathetically, your limbs go limp, loose, heavy. Ghost easily picks your body up and moves you toward the center of the bed, vertically, the blindfold still robbing you of your vision. 

 With a grunt of effort, his hand firmly settles by your ribcage, sinking into the softness of the bed, and then he slips a folded pillow beneath your hipbones, expertly arching your spine into a delicious angle. His hand firmly connects with your rear, not just once but twice, feeling the exquisite sting of it. The room falls into silence, only to be interrupted by the clinking sound of his belt buckle. Your body tenses as you hear the unmistakable sound of plastic being torn open, and then you feel his thick and warm shaft teasing your entrance. A moan escapes your lips as he penetrates you, his movements slow and sensual, until his hipbones press against your backside. Taking his time, he slowly pulls back his length, dragging it against your slick walls, before pushing forward again, covering your body with his own. His right hand is flat on the bed by your right shoulder, while his left curls around your neck, gently forcing your head to tilt back onto him. The tip of his head grinds against the entrance of your womb. 

He moans softly into your ear, before quietly purring, “Let’s see how many more orgasms I can wring out of you, pet.” The tightening of his makeshift necklace around your throat is your first and last warning of what is to come.

—

He pulled four. Four gut-wrenching, shattering orgasms before finding his own release. He left you a drooling, sloppy, sweaty mess on your bed, completely languid and relaxed. Somewhere, you faintly hear your phone ping with a notification. Hissing as you get up, you limp to your living room, and see it on the sofa. Unlocking it, you see that it’s Ghost, sending you his Cash App information. Holding in a chickle, you send him his money and wait for his confirmation. 

It was a real pleasure, doll. Let me know when you need me again.

Cackling to yourself, you place your phone back on the table. 

Bastard. 

He knows you’ll definitely be seeing him again.

[mrchiipchrome]

You Always Go To The Parties

W.C. - 5.7 k

okay so this is the project i've been working on for a little, hope y'all like it:) (also listen to American Wedding by Frank Ocean while y'all read this.)

To clarify, this is a lionesses x r series too, but this is literally just the chapter of introduction so that we can get to know the characters.

-----------------------

“Do I really have to go? I can’t even drink legally here.” You groan, there was nothing stopping you from collecting your things and getting the hell out of that apartment in Boston, well except the manners instilled in you from an early age. There was nothing you’d like more than to crawl up in bed and sleep for the next few weeks.

No way Emma would let you do that. 

The sophomore defender had been one of the only people that had come back to college early, having been asked to show you around the campus and the facilities. She had quickly taken you under her wing, which meant that she wouldn’t let you sulk in bed the rest of August.

Brown cardboard boxes filled to the brim with different things, ranging from clothes to knick knacks, were stacked to the ceiling in the otherwise empty apartment. You didn’t mind, clearly, but it bothered Em.

You tuck your hands behind your head, staring up at the ceiling from your mattress that was placed directly on the floor. Your button up had the first few buttons undone, the top of your chest displayed for Em to see, you had even put your fancy trousers on for the stupid party you didn’t even want to attend.

“Yes, you really have to. How else do you expect to make friends, your cute British accent will only get you that far, you actually need to put in some effort okay?” Rolling your eyes at her words, you were quickly made to get up off the makeshift bed, getting pushed towards the door.

“But-” 

“No buts, you are going because I need someone to drive me home when I’m black out drunk tonight, you don’t want me to drink and drive right?” You can’t help but contemplate over her words, feeling the girl’s hand come down on your shoulder harshly. 

Clearly she didn’t like that.

“I mean you could just, I don't know…not drink?” She looks at you like she’s disgusted you’d even think about saying something like that, like she has to drink.

“Wow, it really is obvious your parents are rich.” You lock the door up as you look at her through the corner of your eye, a slightly judgemental look in your eyes.

Your parents were rich, but they didn’t spoil you so you weren’t one of those snobby rich kids, you were just like anyone else. Only you had access to more money than most.

“Shut up.” Emma puts her hands up in the air, like she’s surrendering to you, but you see the way she’s smiling slyly at you. Note to self; don’t get defensive when Em brings up your rich parents.

“You know, I could use a new Gucci bag if you want to contact daddy dear.” She looks up at you pleadingly as you make your way to her car, there was no way you’d use your car, it was far too expensive to be left outside a frat house. You really had to get a more beat up one.

Maybe you’d sell it, and donate the money you got for it to charity. 

“Aw, we’re taking my car?” Em whines, clearly she wanted to take your cool car.

“Aw, I’m not leaving my really expensive car outside of a frat house for hours.” You roll your eyes at her almost like she’s stupid, throwing her the keys so that she could drive, you didn’t even know where it was you were going.

“You know, you are really sassy for being a rich kid.” Em pulls out of the garage, the apartment complex you were living in was just off campus, so near that you walked there every day for pre-pre-season training (absolutely destroying Em every single time without fail).

“Yeah well, I grew up in the public education system in London, so that’s where I get it from.” You look on as the girl in the driver’s seat taps her fingers against the steering wheel, waiting for the red light to turn green.

“Really, I would’ve thought that they had you in private school from the second you popped out.” The green light stands out against the quickly darkening sky, starless and rather bleak, but that’s what you get for living in a big city.

“Nope, they wanted me to have a normal childhood, so here I am.” You motion to yourself, feeling the bumps and dips of the road beneath you, damn potholes.

“I mean fair enough right.” A certain quietness envelops the space between the two of you, it wasn’t uncomfortable, just present without any real purpose.

Your eyes slip shut, with Em turning the radio on, playing soft instrumental music like you weren’t in the middle of Boston where most people prefer hip hop and bubblegum pop. That was probably the biggest culture shock you'd been given so far, the music.

At home it was different, in a neutral way. It was neither better nor was it worse, but it was simply different.

You sink into your seat, the cool air blasting across your skin in that refreshing way, the summer’s heat canceled out by the air coming from the car. Slowly, sleep starts to take over your body in that calming sort of way that you’d wished for earlier.

It had only felt like moments since you’d fallen asleep as Em shakes your shoulders to get you to wake up, the pulsing music coming from the frat house a walking distance away already making your ears hurt. You look around at the surrounding nature, it wasn’t familiar to you, not the trees you’d found yourself memorizing nor the architecture present in Boston.

Even the people looked different, shirts with the printing of a dog on the front instead of the three books representing Harvard. Stupid of you to assume that Em would be rational for once.

“Where are we Em?” You ask, voice riddled with a sleepy kind of innocence that suggested that not everything had registered yet.

“We are in Connecticut, home of the huskies and what might be the best parties you’ll ever experience.” Your eyes shoot open wide, a more than flabbergasted look on your face at her naïve words.

“You kidnapped me and then drove me all the way to Connecticut for a party we could just as well have found in Boston?!” You ask her incredulously, like you couldn’t really believe her. And you couldn’t.

“Yeah, technically I did but you’ll also get to experience the party of your lifetime, so I think that it’s fine.” She tries to justify her actions by trying to reason with you, and whilst it doesn’t work in the way she wishes, Emma’s just happy you’re not totally freaking out.

“Come on grumpy, let’s go. Who knows, you might even have some fun.” Em pulls you along towards the house spewing flashing lights in a hundred different colors.

You let your eyes adjust to the blinking lights as you enter through the open front door, seeing the entire bottom floor of the mansion-like house covered with hundreds of students, packed together tightly like a sweaty sardine can.

The house reeks of bad body wash, moldy pits and strong cheap alcohol, and in a sense of the word Em really did tell the truth, you’d never seen anything like it before. It was almost like those frat boys couldn’t afford to buy deodorant.

If your arm wasn’t as firmly attached to your body as it was, you were sure that Emma would’ve torn it off by now, the resistance of the sweaty bodies pushing against your own as she leads you to the kitchen proving to be a difficult task for her weak arms.

Reaching the entrance of the large kitchen, the first thing you notice is that it’s not as tightly packed as the living room, only a few stragglers here and there with the stereotypical red solo cups can be found in every single person’s hand. Future alcoholists.

 “Okay, base rules since you’ve never been to a college party before, don’t take a drink from anyone you don’t know, don’t accept anyone’s request to go upstairs or somewhere private, you’ll most likely get robbed, don’t be too snarky, people don’t appreciate that and… I think that’s all. Have a nice night!” And with that she’s off to the living room, plucking a cup from a random man’s hand and taking a sip before leading him to the dance floor.

Yeah, base rules or whatever.

Standing alone in the kitchen, you suddenly feel so awkward. The only real parties you’d been to were the one’s your friends threw when your parents were away on their stupidly long business trips, just the chaotic friend group drinking together.

So this, college parties, was something that was totally out of your comfort zone and you’d never hated anyone as much as you hated Em right at that moment.

Spotting a boy out of the corner of your eye, you approach him with confident, yet still relatively hesitant steps, a question at the tip of your tongue. He looks up at you when you’re close enough to smell the odor of old spice deodorant and way too much sweat, his hat turned backwards on his head to hide the greasy hair still somehow poking its way through.

You almost feel bad for the poor thing, well that is until his mouth opens and you’re staring into the hell that is a frat boy’s gob. 

“‘Sup dude, what can I do for you?” His eyes run all along your body, from your ankles up to your face where he notices the annoyed expression.

“I was wondering if you had anything non alcoholic.” You smile staley, eyebrows furrowing together when his eyes light up like a kid on christmas. His laugh feels slightly insulting, especially when his hand comes up to point at you, but there’s really not a lot you could do.

“Dude totally, say the thing though.” You look at him confused, like you didn’t know what he meant. Spoiler alert; you did. “Y’know bo'ohw'o'wo'er.” 

He laughs again when you roll your eyes, and even if all you desire is to punch his stupid face in, you still say the phrase. Was it worth it for a coke? Eh, debatable.

He opens the fridge and throws you the can and laughs once more at your dirty look.

Sipping the drink slowly as you make your way around the house, the UConn students around you stare unashamedly at you, like they knew your face from somewhere, but you weren’t familiar per se. 

Your face scrunches up at the metallic taste of the American coke, much preferring the Mexican one they had in the canteen. You couldn’t complain too much though, you were the one who actually let yourself get dragged to the party.

It’s sudden, the way her eyes catch yours. Deep pools of endearing brown that capture your entire soul in a single second. The girl was mesmerizing as she stood leaning against the wall across from you, her long brown hair falling so effortlessly down her back.

Her gaze is just focussed on you for a second or two, her attention soon being stolen by the man standing in front of her, a sleazy smirk on his face as his eyes ran all along her body. It was clear that she was uncomfortable purely by the way her lips were turned downwards and the way her hands fiddled with the hem of her crop top.

There seems to be a lull in their one sided conversation as she looks to you almost pleadingly, getting the hint almost immediately, you walk over with confident steps, dropping the now empty can on the floor on the way.

The man is almost as tall as you, his burly shoulders disproportionate to the rest of his awkward body, his meaty hands gripping the red cup tightly like he was afraid someone would steal it from him. His hooded eyes do a once over when he spots you nearing them, almost turning a green pale at the sight of you.

You don’t understand why, there was no way you knew him and being recognised as Harvard’s newest addition would be unlikely. Especially in Connecticut.

“Everything alright here?” The girl seems startled by your accent, but she quickly schools her features so as to not show her surprise. Her hands wrap around your waist, and when you look down at her she looks back up at you with pleading eyes, asking you to just go along with it for the time being.

Your arm wraps around her shoulders and she leans into your body almost subconsciously, like you’ve known each other for much longer than you have.

“Yeah, everything’s going good.” He says, not backing down despite having been nervous at your mere presence only seconds before.

“Really? Because from where I stood it looked like you were flirting with my girlfriend.” You don’t even get the satisfaction of watching his gummy smile fade from his thin lips as he takes in your words, because he walks away from you before you can see it.

It makes you chuckle, especially since he walks up to another girl almost immediately, getting turned down in the same second.

“You okay?” You question the girl in your arms, her hand still resting on your waist as you take her in. You can feel her hair against your arm, her nails digging into your skin ever so slightly and the rest of her body pressed so tightly against your own.

“Yeah, he just wouldn’t leave me alone, thank you for the help.” She smiles at you sweetly, her brown eyes shining under the flashing lights. You smile back at her softly, noticing the way her grip loosens, you quickly let up on your grip of her shoulders.

Her unsure steps catch your attention as she takes your hand in her soft one, just like Em had done earlier in the evening.

“Where are you taking me?” You laugh through the sentence as she tries to pull you through the crowd of people, stumbling over her feet clumsily every so often.

“Do you like burgers?” She questions hastily, nearly having pulled you all the way to the front door already, she was a lot stronger than Em that’s for sure.

"Doesn't everyone?” You smile goofily when she looks back at you, her eyes narrowed playfully when you send her a wink. It’s only when you’re already out the door that you realize that Em is still in there, with people you don't know. Strangers.

You stop walking, the girl’s hand still in yours as she too stops, looking back at you confused.

“I’m sorry but my friend, Em, is still in there and I don’t want to leave her alone with strangers.” Her eyes light up again and you look at her weirdly, not understanding why she looked so happy that you had to leave.

“Em Whitmore?” She giggles at the shocked look on your face, clearly you didn’t know much about Em, the girl thinks to herself. You look at her suspiciously, how did she know Em?

“Yeah…how’d you know?” You ask her, still suspicious of her pretty intoxicated form. Her laugh carries all throughout the empty night, no one out and about except you and the mystery girl who’s soft hand is still in yours.

“I know her brother, she comes to a lot of parties here, because she knows she’ll be safe.” The brunette starts pulling you along again and you let yourself follow her, no longer worried about your Harvard counterpart. Her brother wouldn’t let anything bad happen to her.

By the time you reach the 50’s themed diner, you’ve already walked for ten minutes, side by side with the dark haired girl. You’re lucky that it wasn’t too far away, the half stumbling girl beside you probably wouldn’t have been able to walk that far without falling over.

The bell at the top of the door chimes when she pushes it open, the bored looking cashier perking up when he sees your companion. It was empty in the diner and you couldn’t imagine that keeping it open for this long wasn’t only for the drunk college students looking for a quick snack.

She drags you over to a booth in the corner, decorated in red and white stripes, a glass with straws standing in the middle of the table with a napkin holder beside it.

“Welcome to Donna’s Diner, what can I get for you?” The boy from the counter comes up to the booth after you’ve both settled, handing the two of you plastic menus. The dark haired girl smiles up at him, that fantastic glint in her eye once more.

“Come on now Alex, no need to be all professional.” You look up at him from where you’re sitting, his blonde hair curling around his ears, green eyes staring into yours kindly, thin fingers clasping the small notebook in his hands.

“Alex, this is my new friend, she knows Callum’s little sister, mystery friend, this is Alex and he’s in one of my classes.” You smile at him softly, sticking your hand out for him to shake, and he does take it in a confident grip, sending you a smile of his own.

“I’m Y/n.” Now the mystery girl looks up at you, finally a name attached to your face.

“Nika, I already know what you want, but how about you?” He looks to you when he speaks, obviously you wouldn’t know what to order, it being your first time there and all.

“I’ll just have whatever she’s having with a chocolate milkshake.” Alex disappears behind the counter again, your eyes following his retreating form. Looking away from the kitchen door, your eyes quickly meet the ones of the girl you now know as Nika.

One of her hands was tucked under her chin, keeping her head up in order to look at you. Relaxing into the cushions behind you, the small smile slowly taking over your face suddenly becomes full blown.

“What is it?” She giggles under her breath at your inquisitive look, and despite not knowing much more than her name, you already felt like she knew your soul inside and out.

“Nothing…it’s just that this is the last place I would’ve thought that you would bring me to.” The furrow in her brow is frankly quite adorable, her head turning to the side just in time to catch Alex walking out the kitchen with your food. 

You see the way her eyes light up again, the platter of pure greasy goodness at the center of her attention right at that moment. All you could think about at that second was how thankful you were that the season hadn’t started yet, because everything there broke every single diet you could think of.

Looking to the brunette, the laugh bubbling up from the pit of your stomach is almost one of wonder, because the beautiful girl had already managed to get through half the burger that was in front of her. It seemed like her intoxicated brain only was focussed on one thing, satiating her hunger.

It isn’t long until you follow her lead, picking up the burger and just trying to get the most you could of it in your mouth. You can’t help the groan that escapes you when the exquisite flavours hit your taste buds all at once, having to lean back into the cushions of the booth to be able to take it all in, closing your eyes fully to enhance the experience even further.

It’s only when she laughs that you finally open your eyes again, only to see her looking right at you like you were made of glass, like she could read you like a book and then play you like a fiddle.

“I understand, I had the exact same reaction when I tried it.” She continues to giggle at you when you start to eat like a poor man starved. It was a funny sight to be fair, the way your fancy act completely disappears when in contact with amazing food.

“How’d you even find this place?” You question her when you’ve swallowed and wiped your mouth off with a napkin, you still had manners after all. She smiles at you, gesturing at your surroundings, at the tables and the booths, the chairs and the ketchup bottles, at everything.

“I was drunk after a party once in freshman year and I just stumbled across it.” You nod in response, completely understanding the randomness of how she’d found the place. When you’re drunk, all you want is some greasy food.

“So it’s a well guarded secret between the students then? I assume there’s usually more people here at this time of night.” You take a sip of the milkshake when the last word has fallen from your lips, heat spreading across your face at the intense look you’re getting from the brunette in front of you.

It’s probably just because she’s drunk, you think quietly to yourself, almost trying to convince your mind that the stupidly attractive smile on her face was just one of momentary value, that it was only because it was late and you were tired that it affected you in the way it did.

“Yeah, something like that.” She responds, a comfortable silence enveloping you two as you continue to eat.

The only thing that could be heard was the murmur of the fan across the room, the patting of the fingers of the boy, Alex, at the counter and the sound of shallow breathing. Well that was until her accented voice breaks it with a question.

“So, how’d you manage to befriend the girl with the scariest brother ever?” Nika asks you, her fingers playing with the napkin she’d taken only moments before. Her teeth capture her bottom lip softly as she looks at you tentatively, she’s positively driving you nuts with her pure unfiltered beauty.

“Well, for starters we both play football for Harvard, but she was the first one there to greet me, to help me pack up the necessities and all that. She never did mention a brother though.” You relish in the way she looks at you, all flustered and sweet despite you not having done anything in particular. It was adorable. Pause.

She nods absentmindedly, opening her mouth to speak before closing it and then opening it again, resembling a fish out of water more than anything.

“Were you going to say something love?” You ask the now blushing girl, and she hides her face in her hands at the embarrassment, clearly having zoned out for a little while there.

Reaching over, you pat her shoulder comfortingly before you ask her your next question.

“How about you? How do you know Em’s brother?” Nika reaches over the table to steal a few of your fries, laughing at the betrayed look on your face.

Maybe it was the drinks or maybe you were just funnier than you’d originally thought, either way the angelic sound of her laughing had graced your ears many times that evening. Not that you minded, you didn’t even mind a little bit.

“He plays basketball, I play basketball, and sometimes we train together.” You can’t help the feeling taking over you, the burning feeling that makes you question everything you’d ever known about yourself. Just the thought of your friend’s brother getting to enjoy her company makes the feeling inside you that much worse.

 It seems like she sees the way your expression changes just that little bit before it goes back to normal.

“So, you’re like…close?” You ask the basketball player timidly, rolling your eyes only seconds later when the brunette decides to take a sip of your milkshake.

“No, not especially close. I mean, we talk when we have to at the shared training sessions, but not outside of it. But realistically though, who in the world of college sports doesn’t know Callum Whitmore?” Looking at her cluelessly, you sarcastically shrug as if to say you, because you truly hadn’t known a single thing about the man before she had told you.

By the third time Nika reaches for your fries, you decide to just push them towards her and let her have them, you weren’t even hungry after the monster burger you’d just consumed. It wasn’t at all just because she was too pretty not to get whatever she wanted. Pause.

“You want to switch?” She gestures to your drinks, she’d gotten a strawberry milkshake that she didn’t seem to fancy all that much right at that moment. Sighing goodnaturedly, you give her a nod and allow her to take whatever was left of your shake, smiling softly as you sip absentmindedly at the pink shake she’d given you. 

Soon enough, the only thing that could be heard over the natural noise of the diner was the slight slurping every so often.

“I just got to go wash up, then I’ll walk you home, okay?” The brunette nods as she looks at you leaving, pulling out her phone to seemingly start to text someone not long after.

You walk up to Alex, who’s still standing at the counter and he smiles in your direction when you near, only seeing you out of the corner of his eye. Pulling out your wallet, you hold out your card to him.

“Could you do a to go order? God knows she’ll need that in the morning.” You nod your head in Nika’s direction, Alex smiling widely at you.

“You know, I’ve never seen her with you before…” His voice trails off, as if to tell you to fill in the blanks.

“Yeah, we only met tonight.” You smile at him staley, not understanding why the timeline of events was so important.

“You must be special then if she brought you here, it’s not often she brings anyone other than her friends here after a night out. Nico, drop me two burgers on the grill, one choc milkshake and a strawberry one.” As you walked towards the bathroom of the establishment, putting your card back in your wallet, you started to think about his words, wasn’t this place well known? What made it so special to Nika that the server had to point out how she never brought strangers there?

Wiping your hands off on your trousers, you go up to your table to collect Nika before swinging by the counter to pick up your to-go order, the brown paper bag looking out of place next to the two of you. It seems like she’s sobered up at least a little as she looks at you questioningly, her eyes soon falling to the bag in your hands and then back up at your face.

The bell chimes again when the two of you exit the diner, the cooling air of the late night a contrast to the warm atmosphere of the diner.

“What’s that for?” The furrow in her brow is so endearing that you almost feel the skip in your heartbeat, her eyes narrowing at you ever so slightly. Her arm threads through yours, one of your hands in the pocket of your trousers, creating the perfect space for her arm to go through.

You sneak a glance at her, flyaways being highlighted by the streetlights you were passing. Her head meets your shoulder as you start to walk back to the party, her apartment couldn’t be too far from it considering she hadn’t mentioned anything when you offered to walk her home.

“It’s for you, I just know that hungover Nika is going to crave Donna’s diner’s milkshakes to calm her raging headache.” You tease her softly, but there was definite truth there either way.

If there was one thing you knew about being hungover, then it was that good food usually helped at least a little (well, after the spells of throwing up everything from the previous night.) You give her a cheeky smile as you near the party once more, the booming music being heard from miles away. 

“Thank you, you didn’t have to do that.” She speaks sincerely, you just smile at her in response, did you have to do it? No, but she’d kept you company all night so you did it anyway.

“Hey, can I just stop by my friend’s car before I walk you home? I just have to get something.” You were so thankful that you’d stolen the keys from Em before you went into the party only hours before. Leading her to the beat up truck, unlocking it and opening the door, you place the bag on the ground before you look through the glove compartment.

Finding the cartridge of painkillers and the pen that you were searching for with a small ‘aha’. The post-it notes Em always kept in her car finally came to use when you stole one, writing a quick message on it before sticking it to the plastic of the painkillers and dropping it down the brown paper bag.

You lock the car up, despite it being a piece of shit that no one would ever steal, Em always insisted on you locking it. 

Walking up to her side once more, you open your mouth to speak.

“So, lead the way home love.” You gesture for her to take the lead, it was her apartment after all. Taking your free hand in hers, the girl starts to lead you towards her apartment building, walking calmly side by side with your hands swinging between your bodies.

After passing countless trees, and even more cars, you suddenly find yourselves at the bottom of the slanted hill leading up to where she lives, and when you actually start to walk up the long walkway, it’s slowly almost like you’re both resisting the natural order of events.

But you had to leave her, both Em and Harvard were waiting for you and no matter how much you tried to resist, you knew that’s ultimately where you had to go, it was your life even if the girl you’d just met seemed far more interesting than anything.

When you reach the top, just meters away from the door, you hand her the bag, smiling timidly when she reached out to hug you, her inviting perfume enveloping you in a blanket of warmth. When she pulls away, she thanks you one last time for your kindness.

“Really, it’s no problem.” You reassure her, smiling softly when she turns back towards you one last time before the distance between you becomes larger and larger, her fingers soon punching in the code to open the door.

“Wait!” You call out for her right as she’s about to enter the building, her head turning back to you questioningly. “Don’t forget to put it in the fridge when you get in.” She smiles and nods before disappearing behind the door.

You start your walk back to the party a few minutes after the door has closed, something just keeping you rooted to the ground. It wasn't until you heard your name get called by that familiar voice that you turned around, seeing Nika through her open window, waving at you as you walked away.

It almost felt like you were in some cheesy romance movie as you waved back, turning to walk away after she closed her window. 

Truth be told, the evening had felt like something straight out of a romcom and some part deep down loved it. It loved the cheesy moments of pure unbridled love, the ability to express yourself freely, to dance in the rain, be your true authentic self in front of someone else was something you didn’t even know you longed for before you met Nika.

You shove your hands into the pockets of your trousers, every step you take moving you closer and closer to the frat house, closer to Em and closer to getting back to Boston.

Seeing Em sitting out on the steps of the house has you confused, why was she out there?

“Em? What are you doing out here?” You ask the clearly incredibly intoxicated Emma, your loud voice not even startling her, her slow movements showing just how drunk she is. The squeal she lets out when she sees you has you covering your ears, the intrusive sound killing your tired head.

She tries to stand up, but it just looks like Bambi on ice, stumbling and falling at every second. You come up and sling her arm around your shoulder, bringing her over to her car and sitting her down in the passenger seat.

“I’m not cleaning up if you throw up in here, just so you know.” She nods drunkenly, clearly not understanding a word you were saying.

“The reason why I was sitting outside is a long story.” She leans her head against the window, and knowing Em, she was probably imagining herself in a music video right at that moment.

“You can tell me tomorrow.” The car starts with a rumble and you pull out of the parking space on the side of the road, quickly pulling out and starting to drive on the main road.

It’s quiet for a while and you almost believe that Emma’s asleep, well almost since her feet move back and forth against the floor every so often.

“Where were you huh? What were you doing?” Her words are incredibly slurred and you can barely make out what it is she’s trying to say.

“None of your business mate.” She snickers at you, reading way too much into your response than she should have.

“You got some.” The way your face turns red doesn’t help your case even in the slightest, especially when she herself points out your reddening cheeks.

“Shut up and go to sleep, Em.” Your voice cracks in the middle of the sentence, still embarrassed by her insinuation.

“Mhm, you totally got some pussy.” You sigh as she laughs again, she was clearly getting a lot more joy from the situation than you were.

“Go to sleep Em.”

“Mhm.”

Maybe she had been right after all, maybe you had fun and maybe, just maybe the decision to go to the party was a good one. Not that you’d ever let her know that.

[absurdthirst]

Pretty Woman {Max Lord x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 14.6k

Warnings: Prostitution, sex work, mentions of drug use, oral sex (male and female receiving), vaginal sex, protected sex, mentions of classicism and discrimination, anal sex, public sex, domestic violence, assault

Comments: A chance encounter on the boulevard has Max Lord paying to spend a night with you, then the week. Giving you an experience you never imagined.

A/N: Obviously based off Pretty Woman with Julia Roberts, but we did not add any physical descriptions of the reader beyond being able to wear clothing from Rodeo Drive

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.

|| MasterList || Max Lord MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

The boulevard is busy tonight. Cars pass by but no one stops to pick you up. You sigh, reaching up to scratch your scalp under the itchy blonde bob wig you're wearing. Your feet are starting to ache in these ridiculous boots Kit gave you to wear. "We say what. We say who. We say how much." Kit reminds you as you stand on your corner and your head turns when a sports car comes along the street, the gears grinding. "Catch this." Kit says and your eyes widen, "that's a Lotus Esprit." You exclaim, watching the car come to a screeching stop. 

"No. That's rent. You should go for him." Kit says and you huff, "you look hot tonight. Don't take less than one hundred." She finishes, reminding you once again that your rent is due tonight. "Call me when you're through and take care of you." She says and you nod, adjusting your dress after you give her a hug. You take your jacket off, swaying your hips as Kit tells you to work it and you approach the car. 

"You can handle this." Max says to himself as he fiddles with the gearshift. 

"Hey sugar, you looking for a date?" You ask as you lean in the window. 

"No, I wanna find Beverly Hills, can you give me directions?" Max asks, clearly frustrated and you smother your smirk. 

"Sure....for five bucks." You say and Max scoffs, "that's ridiculous." 

You shrug, "price just went up to ten." Max looks at you incredulously, "you can't charge for directions." 

You chuckle, "I can do whatever I want baby, I ain't lost." You shift away from his window and he sighs, "fine. You got change for a twenty?" He asks and you shake your head as you get in the front seat. 

"For that, I can show you personally. This is a hot car. Uh, lights would be good." You tell him as he pulls away from the curb. He comes to a stop at the light and you can tell he's struggling to drive this car. "What's your name?" He asks you after telling you he did not steal the car. 

"What do you want it to be?" You ask and he turns to look at you with those dark eyes that seem to look through you. You sigh and give him your name. He tells you he's staying at the Beverly Wiltshire and you are impressed, giving him directions. "This car is amazing. Four cylinders and it rounds corners like it's on rails." You exclaim and Max looks at you, "you know about cars?" He asks and you shrug, "grew up around it at home. Mustangs...corvettes...they'd fix 'em up and sell 'em." You explain and the gears grind. 

"You ever driven a Lotus?" Max asks and you shake your head. "Well, you're going to now." He says and you're soon behind the drivers wheel. 

"These have pedals that are really close together so it's easier for a woman to drive." You tell him, "good for little feet. Did you know your foot is the length of your wrist to your elbow?" You ask Max who stares at you in amusement. 

"No, I didn't know that." He confesses, "tell me...what kind of money do you girls make nowadays?" Max asks. 

"No less than $100..." You say, "a night?" Max raises his eyebrows and you shake your head, "an hour." 

"An hour?" He asks, "you make $100 an hour and you got a safety pin holding your boot up? You gotta be joking." He snorts and you shrug, "I never joke about money." 

Max chuckles, "neither do I. $100 an hour is pretty stiff." He says and you smirk, sliding your hand into his lap to press your hand into his groin, "well, no, but it's got potential." You tease until you pull your hand back and focus on driving to the Wiltshire.

Max looks out over the city and his stomach twists with nerves and anticipation. He is here to make his mark, to take over a company that had once looked down on him, refused to do business with him. Now he is poised to take over. To dismantle it piece by piece as soon as the deal is done. Despite his thousand dollar suits and suite at the Beverly Wiltshire, he’s not as confident as he pretends to be. “How much for the night.” He asks suddenly, deciding that he will do better if he spends the night with a beautiful woman and you are that.

You smirk, looking over at him. "Honey, you couldn't afford me." He snorts, "try me." You squeeze the steering wheel, "three hundred." You tell him, knowing you need to pay your rent. 

Max mulls it over for a second before he nods, "done." 

You internally squeal, knowing Kit is gonna be so proud of you. You pull up outside of the hotel and he is greeted by the doorman. "Welcome, Mr. Lord." You are impressed and he glances at your dress, shrugging off his Burberry trench coat. 

"Put this on." He says and you frown, following his order. 

"Great. Now I look like a hooker in a trench coat." You joke and his eyes meet yours for a second before he's heading into the hotel. "Holy shit." You hiss in shock at the expensive decor. He checks in and orders champagne and strawberries for the room. "Ooo fancy." You coo, caressing his back and trying to ignore the stares of everyone in the lobby of the hotel. He is soon escorting you to the escalator and you notice the woman looking at you with disdain so you lift your leg up onto the silver trash can by the escalator. "Oh no, honey. I've torn my pantyhose." You huff and caress your thigh. "Oh wait...I'm not wearing them." You giggle, winking at the woman's husband before you lower your leg. The escalator doors open and you rush in, excited to see this hotel room.

Max tuts, smirking slightly at your moxie as he follows you inside. He’s decided that he likes you. You aren’t stiff and boring, just like his ex-wife accused him of being. Pressing the button for the penthouse, he watches your eyes widen dramatically. He doesn’t expect that your clients often take you to the penthouse. He watches you fidget, wondering what you will do with the three hundred dollars he is paying you. Hopefully it’s not for drugs.

When the elevator arrives, the bellboy watches you as you walk down the hall to the double doors and Max turns to look at him, eyebrows raised, until the young man's face falls and he straightens up. Max unlocks the door and you walk in, mouth open as you take in the lavish suite. "Impressed?" He asks and you shrug, "you kidding me? I come here all the time. As a matter of fact, they do rent this room by the hour." You tease him, walking out onto the balcony. "I bet you could see all the way to ocean from here." You exclaim and Max sits down at the desk, "come inside." He tells you, "I don't go out there." 

You frown as you walk in, setting your purse down on the sofa. "Why not?" You ask and he sighs, "I'm afraid of heights." You snort, "then why'd you get the penthouse?" 

Max straightens up a little, "it's the best." He declares and you nod, confused by his desire to have 'the best of everything' and yet he hired you for the night. 

"Now that I'm here...what do you want to do?" You ask, biting your lip and he sighs, "I - I don't really know." You are surprised by this. Most men would've already been having a smoke after getting their orgasm over with. You sit down on the sofa, "well...one way to break the ice is to pay me." You tell him and he nods, reaching into his jacket for his pocket book and he pulls out three one hundred dollar notes. You move to sit down on the edge of his desk and take the cash, shoving it in your boot. 

"You're on my fax." Max tells you and you chuckle tilting to the side so he can pull the paper out from under your ass, "well that's one I haven't been on before." You unzip your boot, pulling out the condoms you keep there. "Right. Pick one. I got red, I got blue. I'm out of purple. I have one gold coin left. The condom of champions. Nothing getting through this sucker." You flick it and lean closer to him. 

He stands up and you reach for his jacket. "Right, let's get one of these on you?" You suggest and he shakes his head, "why don't we just talk for a bit?" You click your tongue, "talk. Yeah, uh, okay. Max...are you in town for business or pleasure?" You ask, watching him sit down on the sofa and you move to straddle him but he moves so you sit down on the ottoman. "I think you're a lawyer." You guess, crossing your arms and leaning forward to let him see your cleavage.

His eyes flicker down to your chest and he can’t help the way his cock twitches in his suit trousers. “Business.” He answers. “Not a lawyer, lawyers are bloodsucking bastards.” He huffs, rolling his eyes at how much his team of lawyers costs him per hour.

You giggle, reaching out to caress his thighs as he reclines against the sofa. “Ain’t that the truth.” You say just as the doorbell rings. “I’ll get it. Make myself useful.” You stand up and walk over to the door. The hotel worker is surprised when his eyes trail down your dress and he asks where you want the champagne. “Where do we want it?” You ask Max. 

“On the bar.” He says and the man carries it over. He stands there after he sets it down and stares at you expectedly. 

“What you looking at?” You ask and Max sighs, standing up and pulling a note out of his pocket. “Here.” Max says and the man nods, “thank you sir.” He exits the door and Max comes over to pop the champagne.

“Oh.” It’s cute, the way you deflate slightly when you realize you had been a little overzealous in your attitude towards the bellboy. “Here.” He pours a flute of champagne and hold it out to you. “Have it with a strawberry.”

You frown, “why?” You take a large gulp of the champagne before you bite on the strawberry. 

“Just relax. I got some work to do.” He says and walks over to the desk. You frown at his retreating form and you sit down and grab the tv remote. You turn it on to an old episode of “I love Lucy” and you lay down on your stomach with the strawberries and champagne.

Max looks up from the report and smiles as he watches you. You’re kicking your feet and laughing like a little kid. It’s sweet and you don’t seem like a woman of the night, even with your provocative dress on. It’s honestly a joy to watch you and he has to tear himself away to look back down at the report.

You giggle at the show until Max tells you he’s done with his work. “So…you wanna keep talking?” You ask Max after you sit down on the sofa beside him. He stares at you for a second, his dark eyes burning into you in a way you’ve never felt before, and he slowly shakes his head. He leans in towards you but you pull back, “I have one rule. I don’t kiss.” You tell him and he nods. “Tell me what you like.” You demand softly, reaching up to run your fingers through his hair.

“I don’t really know.” Max admits softly. He knows you are more experienced, you have sex for a living. “What do you like? For yourself?” He knows that he will cum no matter what, but he would like to learn something that maybe he doesn’t know. Which wouldn’t be hard to do.

You’re surprised. No one ever asks you that. You never ever expect to cum or receive pleasure. You’re here to do a job. To make him feel good. “I, uh, I like to ride. I like to feel a little in control.” You confess, knowing that most men want to fuck you from behind to make them feel powerful.

“Okay.” He nods seriously, thinking about how he feels about that. “Then ride me.” He decides. “You choose the condom you’re comfortable with, and you can decide how fast you go.”

You nod, taking the gold condom from your boot before you pull them to the side, taking off your socks as well. He watches you, making no moves, and you decide to make this good for him. You set your boots aside and place the condom on the coffee table, grabbing a cushion from the sofa, you kneel between his legs and rub the bulge in his expensive slacks. “I want to suck your cock first.”

He’s surprised that you want to do that, his cock twitching in interest. “You don’t have to.” He promises. “I’m not- it’s not- you want to?” He is a little breathless at the prospect.

You nod, reaching for his Gucci belt buckle to undo it and you unbutton his pants. “Wanna make you feel good.” You murmur as you reach in to pull his hard cock out of his pants. He’s thick and your mouth waters as you lean in to lick a stripe along the underside.

“Oh fuck.” Max chokes out, his head dropping back against the sofa cushions and his eyes close. Your tongue is hot and wet against his cock and makes his stomach twist in pleasure. “Do you- do you like doing this?” He pants out quietly, a little more of his accent slipping out involuntarily.

You pull back, wrapping your fingers around him. “I don’t do this.” You confess, “I- I wanted to do this for you.” It’s true. You never allow oral but you want to do this for him after he’s shown you such a good time already. “I love doing this baby.” You coo, taking his head into your mouth and keeping your eyes on his.

Max groans, twitching in your mouth and biting his lip so he doesn’t grab your head. You are the one setting the pace and he finds it intoxicating. You are so pretty looking up at him with his cock in your mouth. “So pretty.” He praises. “It’s so good, baby, you’re so good to me.”

His slight accent has you getting wet and you moan around him, loving the way he groans and praises you. Your hands caress his thighs, still clad in a designer suit, but you take his cock a little deeper. Your spit combined with his pre-cum dribbling into the material. You moan around him, closing your eyes as you widen your jaw and breathe through your nose.

“It’s been so- so fucking long since I’ve had this.” Max moans out the confession, sure that it’s the best fucking blow job he’s ever had. “You gotta- gotta stop.” He pants out. “Gonna cum if you don’t.” His cock throbs and he wants nothing more than to spill down your throat but he wants you to ride him. He wants to feel your cunt around his cock.

You pull off of him, letting him decide what his body needs, and you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand before you stand up. Your eyes meeting his as you slowly begin to remove your clothes, wanting to give him a show when he’s paying a lot of money for you. You tease, turning around and bending over as you remove your panties, his dark eyes fixed on your body as his chest heaves. When you turn around, you move to straddle his lap and lean in to run your nose along his jaw.

Max hums, still nearly completely dressed with just his slacks opened and his cock pulled out. It’s slightly sexier this way, with you naked on top of him. His hands are hovering over your hips for a few moments before he touches you. Groaning out loud when he grips your flesh and realizes this is actually going to happen.

You reach out to grab the condom, opening the foil packet and you pinch the tip before you work it down his cock. “Shit. You’re so thick.” You murmur, admiring him for a second before you move closer, lifting up to notch him at your entrance. You slowly sink down onto him, your eyes on his face as you take him inside of you for the first time.

“Shiiiiiiiit” Max hisses, loving how tight you are as you slide down his cock. Taking him deep until your ass is against his thighs. He twitches deep inside your hot walls and he grits his teeth to keep from moving. “Holy shit, baby. You’re so tight. So hot.”

You watch him struggle with the need to take over. You can tell he’s used to being in control. You love the strain in his jaw as you start to slowly lift off of him. The slight whine that escapes his clenched teeth as you lift up until only the tip remains inside of you, then you slowly sink back down. “You can touch me, baby.” You remind him, his fists clenched at his sides.

“Fuuuuuuuck.” He slides his hands over your hips and up to cup your tits. “You are so- so tight.” He groans. “Are you going to ride me or tease me?” He demands with a pout, groaning again when you clench down around him. He’s so close to cumming already and you’ve barely started riding him.

You tut, reaching up to grab his cheeks, “I’m in control of pace, remember?” You remind him, clenching around him again and he almost whimpers. Fuck, it’s intoxicating to have a man like him, powerful and rich, whimper for you. You take pity after a second, shifting to grab his shoulders for leverage as you start to move on top of him.

Max nearly whimpers again when you slowly roll your hips, your cunt locking down around him like a vice. You’re gorgeous and your mouth watering tits are in his face. “Can I suck on them?” He asks you desperately, wanting to touch you and make you feel as good as he does.

You nod, reaching out to run your fingers through his hair, dragging his face to your chest. You moan when he wraps his lips around your nipple, biting down softly and you move your hips a little faster, loving the way he stretches him out.

It’s been a long fucking time since he’s fucked anyone and even longer than that since someone ridden him. He loves it though. For a moment, he pretends that you aren’t being paid and you want him. His cock twitches every time he sucks on your tit and it’s only when it’s hard and puffy does he switch over to the other.

Usually, you barely react to sex. It’s a job. Something to pay your rent and you’ve perfected the art of moans and whimpers to make the man paying you cum quicker. Tonight though, you’re in no rush. Max’s hands caress your back and his lips suck on your nipple, making you whimper and throw your head back. It’s the best you’ve felt having sex in so long. He’s thick and you feel him in places that seemed forgotten with your other clients. The control you have is intoxicating and you rock your hips a little faster, trying to find that spot that makes you cum.

Max groans into your flesh, his hands sliding down to your ass and squeezing. He doesn’t try to guide you, just rolls with your movement as he lavishes attention on your breasts. Enjoying it so much more that he had before because of the moans you give him. You’re incredible and you don’t make him feel inadequate.

“Fuck.” You hiss and grind forward, adjusting the angle and you moan at the way his cock hits just right inside of you. You bounce a little faster, “oh God. I- I’m gonna cum.” You confess breathlessly. You never orgasm with a customer. Most just rut into you until they cum a minute later but Max has you shaking above him.

“Don’t fake.” He begs, not wanting you to pretend like his ex wife claimed she did all throughout their marriage. “Want you to really cum for me.”

“Not- not faking.” You promise and reach for his hand, bringing it to your clit. “Rub.” You demand breathlessly and he wastes no time rubbing your clit. It’s perfect. The angle and his touch. You rock a half dozen more times until you cry out, clamping down on his cock and you moan his name.

Max chokes out a moan, Finding you completely gorgeous as you shake apart for him. Your cunt is like a vice around him and he’s not going to be able to hold out. “Fuck, baby.” He hisses, leaning forward and burying his mouth against your pulse to keep from kissing you as he starts to fill the condom.

You moan as he cums, caressing his shoulders and back, and you rock him through it. “So good, baby. So good.” You murmur as he groans into your skin.

You weren’t faking, you couldn’t have faked that. Max moans into your skin, sighing softly when he relaxes. “Fuck.” He pants, still breathing you in. Your perfume is surprisingly bright and clean and he enjoys it. “That was amazing.”

You are pleased he’s happy. Reaching down to grip the base of his cock before you lift off of him, slumping down on the sofa as you try to catch your breath. You haven’t had an orgasm in so long and you turn to look at Max. “Satisfied, Mr. Lord?” You ask teasingly.

Max hums, still blissful from his orgasm. “Call me Max.” He murmurs. “I think that I might actually sleep tonight.” His hand slides over to stroke your thigh. “Did you enjoy yourself?”

You nod, “I did. It’s rare that I do but there’s something about you.” You admit, placing your hand on his. “Well, I’ll get my clothes.” You say but his grip on your thigh tightens. 

“Don’t go yet. I paid for the night. Stay. Have a shower.” He offers and you nod, knowing it will be hard to get home this late.

Max tucks himself away and settles back down with another report while you go into the bathroom. After a few minutes he hears the water start and then some singing. Making him pause and listen for a minute before he starts to grin. It’s off key and pitch, but enthusiastic. Making him shake his head as he looks back down.

You sing in the shower, cleaning off until you come out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel. “I, uh, I don’t really have anything to wear.” You tell him as you glance at your tiny dress and he nods, standing up and making his way over to his closet to open it and take a white shirt out. “Here you go.” He says and you drop the towel, shrugging on his shirt and buttoning it up. “Thank you.” You wink at him and make your way over to the champagne bucket to pour another glass for each of you.

There something about having you here. Just your presence is nice, different from the austere penthouse. He’s not lonely. You turn the tv back to another older show and bring both of the glasses over to where he is sitting and plop down beside him.

You giggle as you watch the show while he looks over his reports again until you are closing your eyes in exhaustion. "Sleep." Max orders, jerking his chin towards the bedroom. You nod, stumbling into the bedroom and Max pulls the covers over you as you settle into the ridiculously soft bed. Max doesn't get in beside you, he closes the door and gets back to his reports, deciding to shower after you're asleep. You huff as the wig you've been wearing all night - even in the shower- digs into you so you grab it from your head and toss it on the chair, pulling off the hair net to let your hair free. You sigh as you settle back in and are soon passed out in a place you never expected to sleep.

It’s after two in the morning when Max decides to go to bed. Showering and then changing into fresh boxers, he stops when he sees you laying in the bed. The short blonde wig was obvious just that, but your natural hair is beautiful. You look so serene, sleeping on your stomach facing the empty side of the bed. As if you are waiting on him. He smiles softly as he climbs in beside you and turns to watch you sleep until his own eyes close.

When you wake up, the sunlight is shining through the curtains and you get up to pee and use some of his toothpaste to freshen your breath. Your hair is a mess but you try to fix it as you walk out into the living area in his shirt. "Hi." You say to Max as he is sitting at the table with his back to you. 

He turns to look at you and nods, "good morning." You run your hands along your sides and bite your lip, "I, uh, wig." You point at your hair and Max smiles softly, "I like it." Your heart thumps at that but you push it aside, "I can get my clothes and go." You say but Max shakes his head, "come sit down. Have some breakfast. I, uh, I didn't know what you like so I got one of everything." He lifts the silver lids up and your eyes widen. "Wow. Thanks." You reach out to pick up a croissant and he picks up his reports. "So Max. You aren't a lawyer...what exactly is it you do?"

“Merger and acquisitions.” Max tells you, folding his newspaper over and smirking at you. “I make money.”

“Right. That explains everything.” You snort sarcastically. “So you’re smart, huh?” You ask and he looks at you. “I didn’t finish eleventh grade.” You confess, “how much school did you do?” You ask him and he tilts his head, “I went all the way.” Your eyebrows raise but you’re not really shocked. He seems smart. “Wow. Good for you. So what are you in town working on now?” You ask and he sighs, “I’m working on acquiring a company for a billion dollars and -” 

You choke at hearing the figure. “One - one billion?” You ask and he nods. “Oh God. That’s - you really are smart. So you get the company and then what?” You ask, ever curious. 

“I buy it and then break it apart. Sell off the assets for more money than I bought the company for.” He explains, “I wasn’t this successful when I got started. Had a lot of fuck ups but I have learned along the way.” 

You gesture to the suite, “clearly.” He stands up, “I’m going to get ready.” He says and you watch him go and change into his suit. He comes out ten minutes later in a bespoke suit but he’s struggling with his tie. You walk over to him to help and soon perfect a Windsor knot. “How do you know how to do this?” He inquires, his dark eyes on yours. 

You smirk, “I screwed the whole debate team.” He chuckles and you wink at him. “My grandpa was a sweet man and he’d go to church so I’d help him with his tie.” You tell him the truth and he nods, reaching behind you to grab his briefcase. “Can I have a bath before I leave?” Max nods and you smile, kissing his cheek before you disappear into the bathroom and the phone rings.

It’s Max’s assistant, informing him that the owners of the company have invited him to some functions while he is in town. Frowning, he remembers that he cannot show up to these functions without a date, he had told James Morse that he had been in a relationship and Jessica had broken up with him because he was always working. To be fair, he had just spent a month away dismantling another company and hadn’t seen her in nearly forty-five days. The singing in the bathroom had started up again, this time it sounds like you are skinning a cat and he grins, telling his secretary to accept the invitations on his behalf and a date. Hanging up, he walks into the bathroom to find you have drawn a bubble bath and have headphones on as you screech along. Chuckling, he stands next to the tub and waits for you to notice him.

You continue singing until you open one eye and see Max perched on the edge of the tub. You throw the headphones for the walkman on the side and internally groan in embarrassment. "Mr. Lord." You greet him, trying to act cool, "Don't you just love Prince?" You grin and he shakes his head. 

"More than life itself." You shake your head, "don't you knock?" 

Max sighs and says your name, "I have a business proposition for you." You ask him what he wants. "I am going to be in town until Sunday and I'd like you to spend the week with me." 

You grin, unable to believe your luck. "Why? You're a rich man. Handsome. You could have anyone... for free." You add and he shakes his head, "I want a professional. I don't want romantic entanglements." You chew the inside of your cheek for a second, "as much as I'd love to be your beck and call girl, it's gonna cost you." You hum and he leans closer, "How much?" 

You tap your chin, "six-night, the days too...$4000." 

His eyebrows raise, "at $300 a night, it's $1800." He tells you and you shrug, "days too." He sighs, "$2000." 

You shake your head, "$3000." Max nods, "deal." Your eyes widen and you can't help but sink under the bubbles, unable to believe your luck.

Max smirks as he watches you do a little dance under the water and then immediately come back up. “Yes! Yes.” You gasp out, wiping the soapy bubbles from your face. “I’m your girl.” 

He chuckles. “Good, now, I’m going to need you to go get a cocktail dress. Something nice. These are important people and I want you to look the part.” He reaches into his pants pocket and pulls out a money clip, peeling crisp hundred dollar bills off until he feels like you have enough, about $1200 dollars and holds it out to you.

Your eyes widen as you stare in shock at the money in your hands. "What do you want me to get?" You ask, climbing out of the bath and following him as he rushes through the penthouse, getting his jacket and briefcase. 

"Classy. Not too sexy. Elegant." He says and you roll your eyes, "boring then." He nods, walking over to the door, "go shopping. Have fun." You nod and watch him go, the door shutting behind him and you rush into the bedroom, squealing in delight at your luck. 

Eventually you calm down and call Kit, giving her the good news. You ask her where to go shopping and she says, "one place in Beverly Hills...Rodeo Drive." You tell her you're leaving the rent money at the desk and you get ready, making your way downstairs to leave the money and you head over to Rodeo Drive.

The boutique that you walk into is obviously expensive and the workers there are immediately suspicious of you. “Oh my god.” Cordelia whispers to her co-worker. “A prostitute just walked into our store, can you believe it?” She purses her lips and continues to go through the clothes on the rack even though you are asking for help.

You ask her about the clothes on the mannequin, at a complete loss of what to do in a store like this. “How much is this?” You ask and she lightly scoffs under her breath. 

“It’s very expensive.” She says, “I don’t think it would fit.” 

You huff, “I didn’t ask if it would fit, I asked how much.” 

She sighs, looking at her colleague, “I don’t think we have anything in here that would work for you.” She says and your stomach drops. You feel sick. You swallow back the tears and rush out of the store. Making your way back into the hotel, you get accosted by the manager, asking you who you’re here to see. “Maxwell Lord.” You tell him and his eyes widen, looking at the bellboy who confirms you are staying in the penthouse. 

“Come this way.” He says, escorting you to his office. “This isn’t your usual hotel, Miss. This is the Beverly Wiltshire. This is a fine establishment and we don’t have women like you staying here.” You nod, feeling reprimanded but you won’t be defeated, not with $3000 on the line. “Mr. Lord, however, is a valued customer and he spends a lot of money here. We can overlook your…occupation for his sake. If anyone asks, you’re his niece. Understood?” He says, eyes burning into you and you nod. 

“Yes sir.” The manager nods, “now, Mr. Lord has a reservation at our restaurant tonight and I’d assume you’re attending with him. Do you have anything else to wear?” He asks and you shake your head. 

“I went to Rodeo and they were so rude. They treated me like trash. I- I don’t have anything else.” You pull out the money Max had given you. “I have all this money and no dress.” 

The manager nods, picking up his phone. “Women’s department, Bridget please.” He asks and waits for a brief moment. “Ah yes, Marie. I have a situation that would benefit from your expertise. I need someone to bring over a black cocktail dress for one of our guests for dinner with her uncle. Yes, black heels. A clutch. Also, send one of your girls for hair and makeup.” He says before he puts down the phone. You’re astonished and he claps his hands. “Now, let’s get you to the room and they will be here soon for you to get ready for dinner.” You nod, letting him escort you through the hotel and back to your room.

A knock on the door comes soon enough and a primly dress woman in a pencil skirt and a silk white blouse is at the door. “Hello!” She smiles brightly at you, her expression never changing when she sees your provocative dress. “My name’s Bridget.” She holds out her hand and you shake it. 

“Yeah, hi. Barney said you’d be nice to me.” 

Bridget blushes slightly at the mention of the hotel manager. “He’s very sweet.” You hum and she moves on. “What are your plans while you are in town?” You cross your arms over your chest nervously. “I’m gonna have dinner.” 

She nods. “Then you need a cocktail dress. I’ve pulled a section of dresses that will be perfect. I’m sure that you’ll find something that your uncle will love.” There is a rack in the hall that is loaded down with dresses and she moves to bring it inside. Correctly guessing your size, she asks you to confirm it. Your eyes widen in amazement. “Yeah. How did you know that?” 

Bridget smiles. “Well, that’s my job.” She replies easily, having to accurately guess women’s sizes all day long. 

“Bridge?” You bite your lip. “He’s not really my uncle.” You confess. 

“They never are, dear.” She assures you.

****

You tap your fingers on the bar in the lounge as you wait for Max, he’s late. You would order a drink but you’re terrified to do something wrong at dinner. To mess up the cutlery order that Mr. Thompson had so willingly taught you. You don’t notice Max enter the lounge until he’s nearly leaving again. You turn your head to look at him just as he meets your eyes and you smile, hoping he likes your new outfit.

Max is astonished. The transformation is nearly unbelievable. You look every inch the sophisticated woman with your cocktail dress, your hair and makeup styled elegantly. He smiles slightly, unable to believe that he gets to escort such a beautiful woman to dinner, despite it being a business transaction. Watching as you gather your clutch and walk over to meet him. “You’re late.” You tease and he is quick to reply. 

“You’re stunning.” He means it, but you giggle slightly. 

“You’re forgiven. 

Max hums and turns to offer his arm like a gentleman. “Shall we go to dinner?”

**** 

“Mr. Morse. It’s great to meet you.” Max greets the older man, “great to meet you. This is my grandson. He’s a fireball. David.” He gestures to the younger man who seems embarrassed by his grandfather. Max introduces you as his friend and you shake both men’s hands. The chair is pulled out for you and you move to sit down until you decide to stand again. All three men stand and Max asks where you’re going. 

“I’m going to the ladies room.” You tell him and he tells you where to go. 

“Shall I order for you?” He asks and you immediately respond, “yeah” until you remember yourself. “Yes. Please do so.” You correct yourself and walk off to the bathroom.

Max can see every man’s eyes at the table on you. Proud of the choice he had made in bringing you here. “She’s charming, isn’t she?” He asks before the three of them order. When you come back, the first course is being served and David is talking to Max. “Mr. Lord, my grandfather believes the men who create a company should control its destiny.” You look down at the plate and then lean over towards Max. 

“Where’s the salad?” You ask quietly. 

Max turns his attention to you. “The salad comes at the end of the meal.”

You stare at the forks, trying to count the tines and the elder Morse leans in, “I never know which one to use.” He chuckles and you follow his lead when he picks up the toast with pâté. The next course is snails. “Escargot.” Max explains, “they’re a delicacy. Try them.” 

You look at the tongs and frown, trying to figure it out until one flings across the room and the waiter catches it. “Slippery little suckers.” You joke “Happens all the time.” He tells you and you fluster. 

The sorbet is next and the conversation heats up between the men. Max reveals that his father died recently and you bite your lip. You watch Max as he clenches his jaw, clearly used to getting what he wants but so is the younger Morse who stands up and leaves, followed by his grandfather. You look at Max who huffs, deciding to pour another glass of wine. Back in the hotel, you decide to admire the view and sit on the balcony. Max joins you a few moments later, rid of his jacket and tie. “I’m sorry about your dad.” You murmur and he sighs, rubbing his jaw. 

“He died last month.” He tells you and you want to comfort him, to make him feel better. Something you haven’t felt in so long. “Haven’t talked to him in fourteen years.” He reveals, staring down at the whiskey in his hand. He hadn’t even attended the funeral, never wished to. He had meant what he said when he said that he never wanted to see the old bastard again. 

You give him a small ‘oh’ and are silent for a minute. “We could just veg out.” You suggest and Max frowns as he looks up at you in confusion. “Sit around and watch tv.” You explain with a grin. “Lay like broccoli.” He snorts and shakes his head before drowning the rest of his drink. “I’ll be back.” He tells you, setting the glass down and walking to the penthouse door quietly.

You huff as he leaves and decide to veg out by yourself. You rub your eyes as the movie ends, Audrey Hepburn and Cary Grant kissing and you glance over at the clock. It’s three in the morning. “Where the hell is he?” You mumble, standing up and wrapping the robe around yourself. You ask the bellboy where Max is and he escorts you through the lobby to the event room. The sounds of the piano echo through the room and a few men are listening him. You’re in awe. You walk over to him when he finishes, clapping softly. “I didn’t know you could play.” You say like you haven’t only known him for two days. “I don’t play in front of people I know.” He explains and you rub his shoulders. 

“You should.” You murmur, leaning down to kiss his neck. His hand finds yours on his shoulder and he guides you around so you’re between his legs. 

“Can you give us the room, fellas?” He asks and the men soon vacate the room. Your eyes meet his as his hands grab your waist, caressing it and your breath hitches at the way he looks at you.

There’s something about you. It’s thrilling and comforting all at the same time. He pushes you up, your ass hitting the keys and he doesn’t smirk like he normally would. Fingers reaching for your robe, and he slowly unties it to pull past and see what you are wearing under it. “Eyes on me.”

You fix your eyes on him, unable to disobey, and he runs his hands up your body, admiring the black silk you're wearing. He grabs your ass and lifts you up onto the top of the piano, your feet hitting the keys as he stands to settle between your legs. His lips seem to gravitate towards yours and you turn your head at the last second, knowing it's not a good idea to kiss him. You're already too involved. His lips find your neck and you whimper when he pushes the nightie up your body, exposing your panties. His nose runs along your stomach, pressing kisses on the skin, teasing you. "Max." You plead softly, needing to feel more.

“I’m going to eat you out.” He decides. “Right here in the lounge of the hotel.” He’s hard and throbbing, but right now, he wants to take you apart. Leaning down even more, his nose presses to your panties and he inhales your intoxicating scent. “When was the last time a man feasted on your cunt?”

You gasp at the way he presses his nose just against your clit. “A long time ago. Clients - they don’t - they don’t do that.” You admit, most just want to get straight to fucking you. It’s not romantic or drawn out. Usually they cum in less than a dozen thrusts and you take your money and go. He hooks his fingers in your panties, “I want to taste you.” He says and you whimper when he drags your underwear down and your ass hits the lacquer of the piano.

His ex-wife had bemoaned his oral skills, claiming that all the talent in his tongue was left in the board room. Not matter how many hours he had spent between her thighs, it was never right and he had eventually given up. However, he wants to see what you think of him. More than that, he just wants to give. Give you things that you haven’t had lately. Forget everything but the way you taste and sound. His fingers pull apart your lips and he groans at the sight of your clit before he leans forward and laps at it with his tongue.

God his tongue feels so good. You moan when he flicks your clit and his mouth covers you. His tongue sliding down to push inside of you and you pant, “Max.” You reach down to tangle your fingers in his air, intoxicated by him already.

He doesn’t think about what he is doing, just focusing on the way that you sound. Groaning into your flesh and squeezing your hips as he drags you closer to taste you more deeply.

It’s scandalous. Him eating you out on a piano in the middle of a hotel lounge and you moan as he takes his time. Most of the time, men only do this to make sure you’re wet enough but Max seems so eager to make you cum. You moan his name as he laps at you and you don’t know how he’s so good at this and unable to get a girlfriend. You moan again, lifting your leg onto his calf as he sucks on your clit. “Oh fuck.” You cry, getting so close already.

Your skin is so soft, fingers digging into the supple areas that he can grab. Dark eyes on your blissed out face as he drags you closer to the edge. Pulling away from your clit to run a figure eight around it with his tongue, he rasps out “cum” before he sucks it back into his mouth to pull on harshly.

You can’t deny him. Fuck, you can’t deny him anything. You moan his name as you rock your hips up towards his mouth and you fall apart on his tongue. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” You cry out as you cum on his face.

It’s the best dessert that he’s ever had, tangy and thick when he moves his tongue down to lap up the fruits of his labor while you shake apart for him.

You pant as you look up at the ornate ceiling of the hotel. The intricate decor almost blurs as you stare at it and you run through fingers through his hair until you’re pushing him away when it becomes too much. “Fuck baby. So good.” You murmur, “there’s a condom in my robe if you want to.” You say, unsure if he wants to fuck you here or go upstairs.

He too worked up to take you upstairs. Digging into your robe to grab the condom, he surges to his feet and fumbles with his belt as he rushes to sink into you.

You sit up on your elbows as he rolls the condom down his length and you moan when he notches himself at your entrance and slowly pushes into you. “Fuck Max.” You moan, reaching for his hand when he pushes deep inside of you.

He moans your name quietly, his thighs bumping the keeps as he tries to get as deep as he possibly can. “Warp your legs around me,” he begs quietly. “Hold onto me.”

You nod, wrapping your legs around him and you shift to sit up, gripping his shoulders the new angle makes you gasp as he starts to move inside of you. “Oh God.” You pant as he curves just right inside of you like this. “Fuck me.” You demand, leaning down to kiss along his neck. Biting down on his ear lobe, “feel so big inside of me.” You murmur, meaning every word.

Max groans, aware that you probably tell every guy you’re with that, but he pretends you mean it. You’re kissing along his next and squeezing his cock with your tight little cunt, making him forget everything as he rocks into you. “Fuck.” He hisses softly. “So beautiful, so tight around me.” He praises.

You rock your hips up to meet his, your hands caressing his back as he pushes deep inside of you. “Fuck baby. Max. Feel so good.” You moan as your nails lightly scratch his back. “Want you to feel good after you made me feel so good.”

Max shudders, aware that anyone could walk in and watch him fucking you, but he doesn’t care. Or maybe it’s that he wishes they would. That they would see that he’s pleasuring such a beautiful woman. “You do, you do.” He pants out. “Feels so good.”

You keep him close, your legs wrapped around him as he pushes deep, slow but precise. “Max. God, that - that’s it.” You pant and he reaches down to rub your clit. You’re so close. Still worked up from your previous orgasm, it doesn’t take you long until you’re clamping down on his cock. Your cry echoing in the empty function room covered in gilded gold.

“That’s it, cum for me.” He hisses, loving the unrestrained way you cry out for him. Letting anyone nearby know that he is making you feel good. His throats turn sloppy, pace faltering as he starts to chase his own release. Groaning your name as he slaps his hips against your once more and presses deep, his body shaking as he empties himself into the condom.

You watch him as he cums, loving how tight his body gets. Jaw clenched and eyes fluttering shut as you get a glimpse into the one and only moment Maxwell Lord relaxes. “That’s it baby. So good.” You murmur, caressing his upper back as you continue to watch him.

When he pulls out of you carefully, his hands are pulling your robe closed so no one could see you even before he's slipping off the condom. Tying it in a knot and tossing it in a trashcan near the piano, he offers you his hand to help you down. "We should sleep." He murmurs, seeing how tired you are after your orgasm.

You nod, letting Max help you off of the piano with shaking legs and you’re soon back in the room. The same as the night before, you get ready for bed and he goes off to review a report, leaving you to fall asleep alone. 

**** 

The next morning, you come out of the room to find Max reading the newspaper. “Good morning.” You greet him, leaning in to kiss his cheek and he hums a good morning to you. “What’s the plan for today?” You ask and he smiles at you, “shopping.” You groan, “no. I- I went yesterday and they were so mean to me.”

Max frowns and folds over his paper, “mean to you? What do you mean?” He demands, his frown deepening even more as you explain and he shakes his head. “Get dressed.” He decides. “I’m coming with you.” 

****

He doesn’t let you pull your hand out of his. Dressed in your outfit you wore the night you met, your heels from last night and one of his dress shirts, you look sexy. The limo driver drops you off on Rodeo drive, he chooses one of the most expensive looking boutiques to walk into. 

“Hello, how may we-“ the worker starts her spiel but Max just cuts her off. 

“We are looking to spend an obscene amount of money.” He declares. “Very obscene. So we are looking to be sucked up to.” He smirks as he looks over at you and winks as he pulls out his Amex card and hands it to you. The one that has no limit. 

“How obscene sir?” The manager asks greedily and Max smirks, “very. Make sure she gets what she wants.” He gestures over to you as you stand admiring the dresses shown to you. Max comes over and takes your hand, “I have a meeting to go to but I’ll see you later.” He says, kissing the back of your hand. You want to pout but instead you nod, letting him go. When he leaves, you try on more clothes than you’ve ever owned, pick out lingerie and nighties. You stare at the man holding a pair of shoes and you see his tie. “Max would love that.” You point to it and the a manager snaps his fingers, “your tie.” He demands and the man takes his tie off to hand it to you. 

You leave the store dressed to the nines and you carry the bags as you make your way back to the store you went in the day before. “Hi, you refused to help me yesterday.” You say to the woman and she frowns until her eyes widen. “You work on commission?” You ask her and she nods. You hold up your bags, “big mistake. Big. Huge.” You tell them before you leave with a massive smirk on your face, unable to believe how on top of the world you feel as you make your way back to the hotel.

Max opens the door to the suite, briefcase in hand and expecting to find you opening dozens of boxes and bags from your shopping excursion. Instead, he finds you sitting at the table, wearing nothing but a tie and your heels. He smirks, setting down the case on the table and stepping closer to you. “That’s a nice tie.” He muses, admiring the way it sits between your tits.

You smirk at him as he walks in and freezes and you slowly uncross your legs, spreading them so he can see your cunt. “I got it for you today.” You coo, reaching down to squeeze your breast. “Thought it would look good on you.” You wink at him and slide your hand lower until you’re rubbing your clit, showing him how wet you are for him.

“Looks…expensive.” He banters and you shoot him a smirk.

“All yours for the low, low price of three thousand dollars.” You tease, reminding him and yourself of how much money he is paying you to stay with him. “Yes, a very expensive tie.” He strides forward and wraps his hand around the silk pinstripe tie, the back of his knuckles dragging over your breasts. “I think it might be my new favorite.”

You smirk up at him, “yeah? Maybe you can wear it tomorrow…after I’m done with it. Might have to take it off though if you want to fuck me hard…maybe fuck my ass?” You ask, biting your lip as you think of the lube you got from the pharmacy on the way back from shopping.

His eyes widen and he glances down at your beautiful cunt and then back at your face. “You want that?” He asks hoarsely, cock twitching. “I’ve never- no one has, um, wanted that. So I don’t know what you would want to get ready for me.”

You giggle at the way he seems flustered. Unused to seeing him like this when you know he’s so stoic in his business. You bite your lip as you lower your leg from the table and stand up to walk over to him. “I have lube. I have thought about this all afternoon so I have, uh, fingered myself open for you. Just need your gorgeous fingers to make sure I’m ready for you and then I have lube so you can fuck me. Want you to experience it with me.” You murmur, caressing his cheek as you stand naked before him bar the tie.

“On your back or your stomach?” He asks, cupping your tits immediately and squeezing them. “What is comfortable for you? What do you like? How did you imagine me fucking you?”

“On my back. I want to watch you.” You tell him as he pinches your nipples and you gasp out his name. “I want to watch your first time doing this.” You say and you pull a condom out from the flap at the back of the tie. “You ready, Mr. Lord?” You smirk, knowing you’ll be wet from him fucking you like this.

“Bedroom.” Max growls out, snatching the condom out of your hand and resisting the urge to grab the tie to drag you closer for a kiss. Reminding himself that he cannot kiss you, it was your one stipulation. He’s eager to experience this, to show you that he can learn new things. “Get your lube.”

You grab the bottle of lube from the side and you rush into the bedroom, loving how animalistic he is. You fling the tie off and throw it down on the chair as you lay down on the bed. “Get undressed Max.” You order, wanting to watch him strip out of his suit.

Max obeys your order, watching you as he starts to strip his suit off. Your greedy eyes make him feel desirable, wanted. It seems like you truly want him. He unpins his cuffs and slowly starts to unbutton his shirt. "Touch yourself." He orders. "Show me how you prepared yourself for me today."

You spread your legs, laying down to lift your ass into the air a little and you slide your fingers through your wet folds, gathering your arousal before you slide them lower to gently push into your ass, showing him how you’ve opened yourself up as you begin to work your fingers in and out.

“Oh fuck.” Max groans, eyes fixed on your ass as you start to finger yourself. “I should have been here for this.” He shrugs out of his shirt and works his belt open. “I would have jerked off.”

You moan at the thought, “you were busy working. Didn’t want to disturb you. You told me to never answer the phone and I assume that means making calls too.” You tell him and he pushes his pants down along with his briefs to expose his hard cock. “God, baby. Your cock is so gorgeous.” You murmur, “want your fingers first. Work me open a little more.” You say and reach for the lube you threw down on the bed.

“I can work you open more.” He promises, wrapping his hand around his cock and pumping it as he kneels on the bed. “Don’t want to hurt you. Want you to feel good. Can you cum from having your ass fucked, or is my pretty girl gonna rub her little clit while I fuck you?”

You whimper, “need to rub my clit to cum.” You tell him and he nods, shifting to kneel on the bed and he pulls your fingers from inside of you. “Lube baby.” He orders and you grab the bottle, squirting some onto his fingers so he can replace your digits with his own. When he does, your head tilts back at the stretch and you moan his name.

You’re gorgeous as he stretches you out on his fingers. Pushing deep inside a hole he had never expected to be in. Scissoring his fingers to work you more as you start to grind down on him, “you like that? Does it feel good?” He asks after long minutes working his fingers inside you. 

“Feels good baby. Want you to feel good.” You murmur as he scissors his fingers to open you up and you watch him as he pumps his cock with his other hand. “Fuck me. Need you inside of me.” You demand as you reach for the lube.

Max pulls his finger out of you and rips open the condom with his teeth. Rolling it down his length and groaning when you smear the condom with the lube generously. “I hope you’re ready.” He hisses, “position me.”

You pant as you reach down to position him, heart pounding as he starts to push in and you watch his face as he pushes in. You’re intoxicated by the look of awe on his face as he pushes into you, slow but precise. “Feel good?” You ask him, wanting to enjoy this.

“Tighter.” He groans, unable to believe how your ring of muscles is squeezing his cock. He checks with you, “how- is it good? Slower? Faster? How do you enjoy it?” He doesn’t just want this to be for him. You are supposed to enjoy yourself too, at least that’s what he wants.

You close your eyes for a second before you open them. “Slow at first then you can speed up. I will enjoy it because it’s you, baby.” You promise, reaching up to caress his forearms as he starts to slowly rock into you. You want to see him wrecked from enjoying this new experience. You’re happy to give it to him.

“You’re so fucking incredible.” He groans as he starts to pull back. Keeping your words in mind as he keeps the pace slow. Enjoying the way your body quivers and tenses under him. “Rub your clit for me.” He orders, remembering how you said you needed to in order to cum. “Want you to cum too.”

You nod, reaching down to rub your clit as he starts to move inside of you. “That’s it baby. Move a little faster. Need you to fuck me like you want. That’s what I want.” You tell him with a moan, your hands caressing his.

He groans, picking up the pace slightly as he watches you rub your clit. It’s so interesting watching himself fuck your ass. Watching your cunt flutter around nothing and yet you are moaning and clearly enjoying yourself. 

You moan as he rocks into you, pushing deeper and stretching you out. “So good baby. Oh God, so good.” You whimper as you rub your clit a little faster. “Keep going, Max. I’m gonna cum from it.” You tell him breathlessly.

He twitches inside you, gasping when you clamp down on him again and his next thrust isn’t as patient as the others. It’s more feral, unrestrained but then the next thrust is more like the others.

It’s your turn to gasp as he becomes more confident and pushes deep into you on the next thrust. “Yessss Max.” You moan, frantically rubbing your clit as he pushes into you again and again. You’re so close. The look on his face has your heart pounding and a couple of thrusts later, you’re clamping down around nothing as you squeeze him inside of your ass.

“Fuck, fuck!” Max hisses, unable to control himself as you start to cum. His thrusts turn frantic and he pushes deep as you squeeze him. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum!” He cries out, feeling the pull in his groin and seconds later, he’s filling the condom with a moan of your name.

You watch him in rapture, loving the look on his face as he cums, filling the condom up. “God, that’s it baby.” You caress his arms as he leans down to kiss you but you turn your head, not wanting to break your rule despite really wanting to kiss him. “Good?” You ask him, wanting to know if he enjoyed it as much as you did.

Max nuzzles your cheek and kisses it softly. “Amazing.” He whispers softly, wishing he could kiss you. “Thank you.” He grips the base of the condom and pulls out of you gently. “Do you want to take a bath?”

You nod, needing to relax your muscles. It doesn’t take long for you to be wrapped around him in a bath, you grab the sponge to wash his chest and you kiss his neck. “What’s on for tomorrow?” You ask and he hums, caressing your arms, “polo match.” You nod, “I’ve never been to polo. What do I wear?” You ask,

“A nice day dress.” He hums. “Something flowy, a big hat to keep the sun off you.” You nod eagerly. “I have just the thing. It’s a cute dress with white polka dots, but it doesn’t have sleeves, is that okay?” 

Max shrugs. “I don’t see why not.”

**** 

The next day, you and Max arrive at the polo grounds and you are immediately nervous and feel out of the place. Max seems to be in his element mixing with the upper crust and he leaves you with two sisters, going off to see his attorney. “So you’re the flavor of the week.” They giggle and you smirk, “oh no. I’m just using him for sex.” You stride off to find Max.

“Who is this girl? Where did she come from?” Max’s attorney is a nervous sort, who sees corporate spies behind every door. 

“Phil, don’t worry about it, she’s not a spy.” He assures him, but the man is about to stroke out because you’ve found David Morse, or the man found you, and you’re petting his polo pony. 

“See?” He hisses, grabbing Max’s arm. 

“Tell me she’s not a spy!” Max sighs, knowing he can trust his lawyer of nearly fifteen years. “She’s a hooker.” He tells the man in confidence. Phil looks skeptical, but Max nods. “Picked her up on the Boulevard the night that you loaned me the car.” He huffs. “Think Morse has spies turning tricks? There’s nothing to worry about.” Your laughter catches his attention and he looks over to find you laughing with the horse nipping at your palm and he smiles, thinking you look beautiful. “Excuse me.”

Max comes over to you as you say goodbye to David and he wraps his arm around you and you watch as the upper crust go out to pat down the holes on the field as is tradition according to the announcer. You take the glass of champagne Max offers you until he tells you he wants to talk to someone and leaves you on your own. His attorney, Phil, approaches you, his wife off talking to the others, and Phil chuckles. “You know, you dress up nice.” He says and you turn to look at him, “thanks.” He reaches up to gently run his finger down your arm, “yeah. You clean up nice compared to what you must wear on the boulevard.” Your jaw drops slightly and you turn to look at him. “Maybe I’ll have to come and find you when Max is done with you.” He winks and walks off and you clench your jaw, biting back a retort. When Max comes over, you’re silent and you remain silent until you get back to the hotel. 

**** 

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Max asks when you storm into the room, straight to the bedroom where you begin to gather the clothes he bought for you.

“You. Telling Phil that I’m a prostitute. He - he said you told him and I- I just thought you wouldn’t be telling everyone there what I am to you.” You spit, zipping up the garment bag.

Max huffs, pissed off at Phil for telling you. “He thought you were a corporate spy.” He snorts, still amused by that. “Was talking about running a background check on you. And you talking to David Morse didn’t help.” He hates that a thread of jealousy had ripped through him when you had been talking to the other handsome guy, annoyed that you might be more interested in him than Max.

“I just - I thought - I thought we would discuss what you told people before you announced to everyone that I’m a hooker.” You huff as you grab your things.

 “You are a hooker.” Max says and your heart breaks. You thought you were- well, never mind. 

You swallow the lump in your throat and you say, “I want to leave. Now.” You grab your purse and Max nods, grabbing his pocket book to throw the money down on the bed. You swallow harshly as he walks out the room and you don’t want his money. You storm through the hotel suite to the doors and you walk away from him, waiting for the elevator.

Max looks back into the bedroom and sees that you’ve left all the money on the bed, his heart aching at the thought of you leaving. His shoes are still off but he walks out of the suite and down the hall to where you are waiting for the elevator car. Pausing for a second when you won’t look at him. “I’m sorry that I told Phil.” He apologizes. “Will you please come back inside?”

You stare at the golden doors, clothes folded over your arms. They open a few seconds later with the bellboy standing there. “Please?” Max asks, his dark eyes wide as he stares at you pleadingly. You bite your lips as you look at him until you sigh, nodding. “Sorry.” You tell the bellboy and you step back towards Max.

He’s relieved that you are willing to come back to the room and he takes your bag and the clothes out of your arms to carry them for you. Biting his lip as he brings them back into the bedroom and the money is still on the bed.

You set the clothes down and your purse, crossing your arms as you wait for him to say something. “You didn’t take the money.” He says and you shake your head, “I don’t want it.” You confess, “it’s - it’s changed. This situation has changed.” You confess and he nods. You step closer to him, “are you…you think I should stay?”

“I do.” He confesses, reaching out and touching your shoulder. “I didn’t like it when you were talking to Morse.” He continues on. You look at him strangely, “we were just talking.” You remind him. “I didn’t like it.” He repeats, feeling almost possessive of you. Sure, he has purchased your time and use of your body, but he also wants your interest, your thoughts.

You turn towards him, cupping his cheek as he admits his jealousy. “Baby. I’m yours. Until I leave.” You tease, leaning in to kiss his chin. “But that won’t be tonight. I want…I want you to show me that you’re sorry.” You smirk, pushing down on his shoulders, “make me cum.” You smile at him as you work on the zipper of your dress, wanting to feel his tongue again. 

**** 

In bed, you turn to face Max and he softly asks you how you ended up in L.A. You sigh, “I followed a boyfriend over here. He - he was a bum. I have always dated bums. One cheated on me. One went to jail. This one…I followed to L.A and he dumped me for some other girl. I refused to go home with my tail between my legs so I got whatever job I could. Even valeted cars for a bit. Then I couldn’t pay my rent. I met Kit and she told me how much she made…how easy it is. I- I decided to do it. No one plans on becoming a hooker but - I cried. The first time. I cried the entire time.” You confess, shifting a little closer to him.

Max frowns, his heart hurting for you, how you must have felt. “I’m sorry.” He murmurs softly, feeling compelled to tell you his story as well. “My ex constantly told me I wasn’t good enough. I didn’t make enough money or I wasn’t a good enough lover.” He snorts. “She paraded lovers through our home and tried to convince me it was my fault.”

“She was an idiot.” You scoff, reaching out to caress his chest. “You’re handsome. You’re funny. You’re smart as hell. You’re rich as fuck. Why would she say you’re not good enough? Pfft. She’s a goddamn fool.” You scoff and Max snorts, pulling you close but not saying a word. His heart thumping in his chest as he holds you close. 

**** 

“What are we doing today?” You ask Max as you walk into the living room in your robe. He looks up from his reports. “Tonight, we are going to the opera.” Your eyes widen, “the opera?” He nods and you are nervous at the thought. “How am I going to understand anything they sing?” You ask and he smiles at you, “it transcends words. Languages.” You nod, “guess I better get another dress.” 

**** 

Max adjusts his cufflinks as you exit the bedroom, wearing the red dress that you can barely breathe in but it’s worth it. It’s gorgeous and you’ve never felt so beautiful. “You like it?” You ask Max, wanting his approval.

“Hmmm.” Max shakes his head slightly. “It’s missing something.��� He decides and pulls out a large jewelry box out of his jacket. He had stopped and picked it up on the way back to the hotel. “Now…” he opens it and snaps it back shut before you can see inside. “This is on loan. You can’t keep this.”

Your eyes widen and you giggle when he snaps the lid shut on your hand and you gasp when you see the necklace again. “Max…oh my God.” You are in awe of the jewelry and you look at it. 

“Let’s get it on you.” Max says and you let him escort you over to the mirror. He fastens it on your neck and you touch it, “how much is this?” You ask and your eyes widen when he says a quarter of a million. “A quarter mil?” You gasp and he nods, “on loan.” You giggle and reach for your clutch as Max escorts you through the hotel where everyone looks at you in awe. “Everyone’s staring.” You murmur.

“Of course they are.” Max huffs, proud to have you on his arm. You are gorgeous and look fucking amazing in your dress. “Good evening, Mr. Lord.” The limo driver nods as he opens the door once you are out of the hotel. “The pilot is ready to take off as soon as you arrive.” Max smiles as he helps you into the car. “Good.”

Your eyes widen once more and you lean into his side, unable to say much as you are driven to a small airport and right up to a private jet. “Max?” You gasp as he escorts you up the steps and onto the plane. You didn’t know that this kind of life was real but it is and you’re in awe of the luxury Max lives in.

“I didn’t tell you?” He asks playfully as he guides you towards a seat and he nods when the stewardess asks if you would like champagne before take off. “The opera is in San Francisco.”

You grin, shaking your head in disbelief. “Is this my life?” You ask Max and he chuckles, leaning in to kiss your cheek. 

**** 

When you arrive at the opera house, Max ushers you to your seats which happens to be a balcony. “You said you don’t like heights?” You ask him as you sit down in your seats. “I don’t.” Max says and you lean in closer, “then why did you get these?” 

He chuckles, “because they are the best.” You playfully roll your eyes and he winks at you just as the opera is about to start. You grab the binoculars and try to figure them out. You flip them until Max chuckles and puts them the right way. “Thank you.” You smile and the music begins.

Max looks over at you during the first act and you are completely enthralled. Eyes fixed on the stage and you are twisting your program in your lap as you watch. He finds it almost more entertaining than the opera. Reaching for your hand, he picks it up and kisses the back of it as tears slip down your cheeks from the beauty of the story is conveyed through the emotion of the performance.

The opera ends and you swallow back the lump in your throat as you wipe your tears away. It was beautiful and moving and you’ve never been to anything like it. “Max.” You sigh when you get back to the hotel after a quiet flight back to L.A. “God, Max. That was incredible.” You sigh as you step out of your heels. “Thank you for taking me.” You tell him, reaching up to remove his tie.

Max smiles at you. “Did you enjoy yourself?” He asks, even though he knows you did. Happy that he could give you this experience, he reaches out and touches the loaned necklace. “Remove your dress, but leave the necklace on.”

You smirk, shaking your head at him. “Let’s play chess.” You say, wanting to keep him on his feet even if he’s paying for you. You grab a Diet Coke from the fridge and move over to the table where the chess board is c waiting for Max. “Come play with me.” You demand as Max watches you. He nods and comes over after removing his jacket and tie. “Take tomorrow off.” You say after he’s won a game and you’re on the next.

“What would I do?” He asks with a frown, knowing that he’s come to L.A. to work. To make this deal happen and make a lot of money.

You reach out to rub your foot against his ankle. “Nothing. Anything. Relax.” You tell him, knowing he takes no time to himself. “You could explore the city. Have lunch. Have sex.” You wink, wanting him to have a day to himself when all he does is work.

He purses his lips, about to tease you and remind you that you turned him down, but the idea is intriguing. “We’ll go on a picnic.” He decides. “I’ve not been on one in so long.”

“Let’s do that then.” You grin and stand up, slowly moving around the table to straddle him in his seat. “And for now…I want to show you how much I enjoyed the opera.” You lean in to kiss his neck and his hands find your waist, sliding up to unzip your dress. “Fuck me with this necklace on before we return it.” You murmur into his neck as you bite his ear. 

**** 

You adjust your skirt as Max finishes getting dressed and after he’s ready, you take his hand as he guides you out of the hotel and into Beverly Hills where there’s nothing planned for once in Max’s life.

The two of you manage to find a deli who is willing to put together a picnic basket for the handsome sum Max slipped him. The charming wicker basket hangs from his hand and he feels lighter than he has in a long time. When you reach the park, you take off the stylish flats you are wearing and grin at him. “Take off your shoes.” 

He snorts and looks down at the Italian loafers. “What?”

“Take off your shoes.” You tell him and he stares at you for a second before he follows your order. You lay out the blanket and you sit down as you grab the basket to open it. You eat and watch the people pass by until Max pulls a book out of his pocket. “Shakespeare?” You ask in curiosity.

  “Of course.” Max huffs playfully, as if everyone should carry Shakespeare in their pocket. “What else would we read while drinking wine and laying in the grass?”

You giggle and listen to Max as he reads a sonnet, your head on his chest. Later that day, you go to a small diner and sit and eat at the bar, laughing at Max as he tells a story from his high school days. When you return to the hotel, you tell Max you’re going to go get ready for bed. You change into one of the silky nightgowns that Max bought you and you adjust your hair as you make your way back out into the bedroom. Max is leaning against the headboard, his eyes shut as he finally sleeps. You shift quietly to sit next to him, smiling. “He sleeps.” You murmur, leaning in to gently kiss his cheek, turning your head slightly to kiss his lips. You break your rule to give him a piece of yourself without him knowing you’ve broken your rule.

The next morning, Max apologizes to you about having to leave so early, rushing out of the hotel suite before you can even have breakfast together. He has a meeting with Mr. Morse that the rest of the board doesn’t know about, not even his lawyer. Wanting to talk to the old man one on one. Or with David too, but without the sharks to smell blood in the water.

You gather your things, packing your bag, and you wait for Max to return from his meeting. The doorbell rings and you answer the door, eyes widening when you see Max’s lawyer, Phil. “How are you?” You ask him and he storms in. You shut the door behind you and you watch him as he practically pulls his hair out, walking over to the bar to pour himself a scotch.

“How am I? I wish I knew. I used to know. Just like I used to know how Max was. But now, I think he’s with you.” He tells you, taking a sip of the scotch and staring at you. Max had completely undone all of his hard work, ruined his chances for making a boatload off this deal and it’s all because of you.

“Max will be back soon. Any minute he’ll be home.” You tell Phil who scoffs, “home? This isn’t your home. This is a hotel room and you aren’t the little woman. You’re a hooker.” Your stomach twists and you swallow down the urge to slap him and decide to sit down on the sofa instead. Phil follows, sitting down beside you, and he sets down the empty glass on the coffee table until he places his hand on your bare thigh. 

“So how much is it? You must be good to have Max all tangled up. I wouldn’t mind a piece of that pussy.” Phil says as he slides his hand up higher and you gasp, grabbing his wrist to push him away. He growls and pounces on you, pushing you back into the sofa and you scream, trying to get out from under him. Phil reacts, slapping you across the face to get you to shut up but you scream out again, putting up a fight.

Max had been in a good mood as he let himself into the suite. Ready to tell you about the deal he had struck with Morse. He wasn’t going to dismantle the company anymore, he was going to invest and make sure that Morse enterprises build the ships they wanted to. When he sees Phil on top of you and you struggling, something snaps in him and he rushes over to drag the man off of you, spinning him around and punching him in the mouth. “What is the matter with you!”

“She’s a whore, man.” Phil growls and Max shakes his head, about to punch the man again. Max throws his briefcase down the hall "this is bullshit. Bullshit. I gave you ten years of my life!" Phil cries, throwing up his hands. 

Max shakes his head again. “This is such bullshit. It's the kill you love not me. Get out of here. Get out!" He demands and Phil stumbles down the hall as Max slams the door. You sit on the sofa, nursing your sore cheek and Max immediately rushes to get you some ice. You hiss when he presses it to your cheek, covered in the napkin, and he looks ready to kill. “Are you okay?” He asks, despite knowing you’re not. 

“I’m fine. I- I gotta go.” You choke out, knowing this moment just solidified your leaving. 

“Don’t go.” Max murmurs, “come with me to New York.” 

You shake your head, “I can’t go with you. It’s - it’s always going to be someone. Some guy who finds out what I am and wants something from me. You can’t beat everyone up.” You reach out to caress his cheek, wanting to cry but you remain strong. 

“Stay here then. Stay and I’ll get you a condo. You can have a card to spend whatever you want if you see me when I come back here.” 

You shake your head again. “That’s a mighty fine offer for a girl like me but I can’t take it. I want…I want more than just the castle. I want the prince. I want the fairytale.” You confess, eyes burning into his. 

He nods and stands up, helping you up and you gather your things again. “Stay with me. One night. One more night. Not because I’m paying you but because I want you to.” He pleads softly and you sigh, “I can’t.” 

You watch him as he takes the money and places it in your hand along with his card, stamped with gold. You lean in to kiss his cheek, “you have a lot of special gifts.” 

Max chuckles, “my special gift is complicated relationships.” You smirk, reaching for his hand before you make your way to the elevator. Max watches you go and somehow you make it down to the lobby. You find Barney and tell him you’ve come to say goodbye. “Thank you for everything.” You murmur and lean in to kiss his cheek. 

He smiles at you, “you’re welcome back whenever you wish, goodbye.” He reaches for your hand to kiss the back of it. “The hotel limo will take you wherever you wish to go.” He says and you nod, “stay cool.” You wink and make your way out of the hotel, knowing you’ll never return.

Max walks through the suite, touching the surfaces that you had touched. The table where he had you for breakfast instead of food. The bathtub you had laid in together. He already misses you. He can’t let you go. Picking up the telephone, he’s connected to the front desk. “Yes, Mr. Lord?” The voice on the other end says. 

He bites his lip. “I need the limo and a dozen roses.” He orders.

You arrive back at your apartment and see Kit, telling her your decision to go to San Francisco to start again, to finish school. You pack your things, including your new clothes, and hand Kit some cash before she leaves because she says she can’t handle goodbyes. Your bus leaves soon and you’re about to go when you hear a horn honking. You go out on your rickety fire escape and you see the hotel limo approach, Max hanging out of the roof window and your eyes widen. Opera plays from the car and Max jumps out when the car stops. You lean over as he contemplates what to do when he looks up at the high fire escape and you giggle when he puts the flower stems into his mouth so he can climb up the stairs. “Don’t-” You don’t get to protest as he rushes up and you decide to meet him halfway, chest heaving as you face him. He comes to you, handing you the flowers. “Max?” You gasp and he stands before you. 

“I can’t let you go. I - it’s more than this week. You- you’ve crawled under my skin. Into my heart. I don’t want to let you go, I want you to be mine.” He declares and your heart clenches. 

“I love you Max.” You murmur, stepping closer to him and you cup his cheeks. 

“So what happens after a prince climbs up the tower to rescue the princess?” He asks you breathlessly. 

“She rescues him right back.” You grin and lean in to press your lips to his. He groans and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you close and you melt into the kiss. You never imagined you’d be meeting the man you love by walking the boulevard. You thought you’d be down on your luck forever until a handsome man pulled up in a Lotus Esprit to change your life forever.

​​

[lesbicosmos]

six of crows is so incredibly hozier coded and to prove it ive assigned each character/couple a song and given a specific section of the lyrics

(i feel entirely normal about this i swear)

the books in general are 100% eat your young

There's money to be made, whatever's still to come Get some Pull up the ladder when the flood comes Throw enough rope until the legs have swung Seven new ways that you can eat your young Come and get some Skinning the children for a war drum Putting food on the table selling bombs and guns It's quicker and easier to eat your young

kaz brekker - arsonist's lullabye

When I was 16, my senses fooled me Thought gasoline was on my clothes I knew that something would always rule me I knew the scent was mine alone All you have is your fire And the place you need to reach Don't you ever tame your demons But always keep 'em on a leash

inej ghafa - would that i

With the war of the fire My heart moves to its feet Like the ashes of ash I saw eyes in the heat Feel it soft and as pure as snow Fell in love with the fire long ago With each love I could lose I was never the same Watch it still live in roofs Be consumed by the flame I was fixed on your hand of gold Lay in waste of my lovin' long ago

jesper fahey - someone new

There's an art to life's distractions To somehow escape the burning weight, the art of scraping through Some like to imagine The dark caress of someone else, I guess any thrill will do Would things be easier if there was a right way? Honey, there is no right way

wylan van eck - through me (the flood)

Any time I've struggled on Against the course Out on my own Every time I'd burn through the world, I'd see That the world, it burns through me

nina zenik - angel of small death and the codeine scene

Feeling more human and hooked on her flesh, I Lay my heart down with the rest at her feet Fresh from the fields, all fetor and fertile It's bloody and raw, but I swear it is sweet With her sweetened breath, and her tongue so mean She's the angel of small death and the codeine scene

(this is so nina post-parem)

matthias helvar - foreigner's god

Her eyes look sharp and steady Into the empty parts of me But still my heart is heavy With the hate of some other man's beliefs

kaz/inej - work song

When my time comes around Lay me gently in the cold dark earth No grave can hold my body down I'll crawl home to her

(this is just so i would come for you and if i couldn't walk i'd crawl to you i cannot)

matthias/nina - in a week

A thousand teeth And yours among them, I know Our hungers appeased Our heartbeats becoming slow We lay here for years or for hours Thrown here or found To freeze or to thaw So long we become the flowers Two corpses we were

(they're also incredibly work song coded, it was a struggle choosing between helnik and kanej for that one)

wylan/jesper - like real people do

So I will not ask you Why you were creeping In some sad way I already know I will not ask you where you came from I will not ask and neither should you Honey just put your sweet lips on my lips We should just kiss like real people do

[zwolfgames]

Yandere Platonic MHA x child!reader

Requested by: jocru046

Part two/sequel of this.

(Warnings: kind of kidnapping, kicking a child, creepy overbearing behavior, yandere in general.)

(3rd person POV)

Life sucked.

No really, it did.

Atleast for you, that is. Y/N, not even a last name. Just a small kid, no parents or guardian. You can't even remember how thar happned. Did you have parents? Did you just spawn in one day? Only god knew. No wait, that didn't exsist. Trust me, you had begged that god for help and received nothing.

Never having gone to school or kindergarden you were far behind other kids. Now, as a illiterate 8 year old with no hopes or dreams you live on the streets. Luckily, your quirk kept you alive.

A simple concept. You cried pearls. Or well, thats all you knew of it. It would be sad if that was the only thing you could do but you didn't care at the moment. Survival was your top priority.

So, when you ran low on money, you cried and collected the little pearls. Selling them to who-ever you could. It worked... well enough. You were a kid, you definitly got scammed a lot.

So that brings us to this faithfull moolit night. One where you were drawing on an old newspaper. You couldn't read it anyways.

All was calm untill you began to hear footsteps. Loud frantic footsteps and heavy breaths. Like a group of humans running from a bear.

You held your breath and shrunk into your make-shift dumpster house as the footsteps came into your alley.

You expected them to just run past, like everyone always did. But no...

They stopped... Right in the middle of the alley.

It was quiet for a moment, just a moment. As if they were scanning the space.

"Oi! Kid. Come out, right now! We know you're here!" Some loud man screamed. A sudden crash of a thrashcan being thrown against a wall was heard. You gulped.

Surely they were thinking if some other kid, right? I mean, surely there was some other poor orphan child in this alley besides you?

Nope.

Just as you finished the tought the lid of your dumpster home smashed open and before you could even gasp one of the men had a crushing grip on your upper arm. Ripping you out of the dumpster as if you were nothing but a twig.

"Got it." He huffed to his boss as this henchman, or whatever, held you beside him in the crushing grip.

"Who are you? Let go! You're hurting me!" You growl and bare your teeth, a trick you had seen the stray dogs use on weirdo's.

"Shut it. Hurt them." The boss man said harshly. He looked disgusting. Like some vile criminal. Whatever his quirk was wasnt helping his appearance. This man had the skin of a fish yet the appearance of a man...

The thug holding you complied and bashed your head against the rough brick wall. You let out a pained sounded and started slightly crying at the pain. Your head feeling heavy as you saw stars. If you guessed right you were even bleeding.

Two small pearls streamed down your cheeks and fell to the dirty alley ground with a small sound.

The fish man grinned, revealing scary, shark-like, teeth. "Thats them. The pearl seller. Take em away. We'll be rich by the end of the week!" He laughed and you were dragged along. Your head still spinning.

This was going too fast. What was happening?! Who were these people? Why did they hurt you?

You began realising the situation when their black van came into vieuw. They'd stuff you in there and you'd never be seen again! You knew it! You've seen it happen to kids before!

So in that moment you let out the most blood-curdling scream of despair. Shrill and loud, just like you wanted it.

The chance someone would come to rescue you was small, seeing how humans were.... But it was worth a shot.

The man holding you growled in anger and kicked in your stomach. You almost fell to the ground if it wasn't for his deadly harsh grip on your arm. The air knocked out of you.

The thug was about to throw you into the dammned van before you were suddendly back on the ground again.

No longer having your arm crushed. Now curling up into a pained ball on the ground as you cried. Shiny perfect pearls rolling down your face.

There, infront of you, stood some darkly dressed man. Somehow, his scarf somehow floating...

Just a moment ago all those bad men were ready to drive off.... and now they were either knocked out on the ground or too pained to move...

What was this... mosnter? How did he do this? The scary looking man came closer to you, taking light steps.

You could see his face now. Some ridiculous yellow goggles on his eyes. His long, messy black hair swayed with his steps. Overall, he didnt look too bad... maybe a bit sleep-deprived and dead inside but oh well... What made him scary was the fact that he just wiped out this gang of men that wanted to kidnap you.

The unknown man kneels down in front of you. Not too close, not too far.

He observes you. Just faintly, you can see his eyes stare into yours from behind his strange yellow goggles.

"Are you alright?" He asks after a long silnece. You had alreadt seized your crying... now just a pile of little pearls on the ground.

"Im... fine." You whispered. In a broken choked voice. Who could blame you? You just released the loudest scream you ever had in your short life.

"Sounds like a lie. You're bleeding kiddo." The mysterious man sigh and reaches his hand towards you, to wich you flinch and scamble to your feet to take a step back.

The man frowns and stand up aswell, way more intimidating at his full height.

"There's no need to be afraid. Im here to help." He said, keeping the distance as to not scare you further.

This man... He may be scary but he didn't feel the same way the thugs on the ground felt.... More... safe.

How could some-one so scary feel safe? You wondered.

The man seemed to notice your questioning look but said nothing, merely making sure you didn't run off. You were injured and he needed the whole story.

"Whats your name?" He suddendly said, his voice soft and caring, as if he was speaking to a small child- oh wait, you were a small child.

You hesitated for a moment but decided to just answer before he bashed your head in like he did with the thugs.

"Y/N..." You answer softly. Not looking him in the face anymore.

"Where are your parents, Y/N?" He asked calmly. That question stunned you for a moment, maybe you should have expected it but somehow... no-one had asked you that before.

"...Non-exsistent." You answered bluntly. Not a hint of care for the subject in your voice.

The man had expected that but not in... such a careless way.

"I see... Would you trust me to help you?" He asked. This man only asked questions, how annoying.

"...No." You answered after a moment of silence. The man seemed baffled, as if no-one he had rescued had ever said 'no'.

He opened his mouth to say something yet before he could a groan was heard from the fish man on the ground behind him.

He shot into action at the mere sound and before you knew it you were off the ground and in his arms.

The wind blew into your face before the man tucked your head into his chest. Now you had no clue what was happening.

But judging from the loud air sounds, you were going fast as fuck.

As the surprise faded and you came back to your senses you started struggeling, to wich the man simply tightend his hold on you.

"Don't struggle, im taking you somewhere safer." He said calmly, tough the wind made it hard to hear. Was this dude doing parkour or something? You were getting sick from these abrupt movements! But i guess that did make you struggle less.

You tried to speak but this mans clothes were smothering your face. That weird scarf fluttering against your head as the man jumped and ran.

After an agonizing whileof running and wind he set you down on a chair. No wait, this was a car...

"Mister, what do you think you're doing-" You quickly asked but he held a finger to your lips and buckled you in. You were utterly confused.

First, some thugs tried to nab you for unknown reasons. And now this random man shoved you into his car?!

You gulped in slight fear yet looked around the car curiously, never having been in one before.

The man seemed satisfied with your silence and got into the car, taking the wheel and driving off.

"I know this is going too fast for you, but you'll be alright. Im EraserHead. A pro-hero." He side-eyed you and you simply looked up ahead. He was right, this was going too fast. And a pro-hero? This slobby dude? Really?

You said nothing and simply stared ahead. This was too complex for a child. You felt as if you should be scared but he had infact saved you... untill he grabbed you himself but eh.

EraserHead eventually stopped the car and got out before walking over to your side and unbuckeling you. Taking your hand as he leads you into a huge building.

"See, this is U.A. You've heard of it, haven't you?" He smiles slightly down at you. Those stupid goggles off of his face now so you could actually see his eyes.

You wanted to say no... but decided just to nod to avoid any boring info.

EraserHead led you into the grand building and after an endless amount of twists and turns you arrived at some sort of hospital room.

There, at a desk, set a tiny old lady. She turned her head and greeted EraserHead before turning her attention to you. You didn't know what it was about her but she immeadiatly had your trust.

"How are you feeling sweetie?" She asked softly and observed your still bleeding head and multiple scrape wounds. Wich now that the adrenaline had stopped working, hurt quite a lot.

"I-Im fine." You meekly uttered, shrinking into yourself slightly. Eraserhead was about to comment 'Lies.' Once again but he didn't have the chance as the old lady shot him a glare.

"Is it okay if I help you dear?" She smiles at you. It was quite comforting since she wasn't way taller then you. You nod hesistanly.

The lady somewhat kisses your forehead and you can littarly feel your wounds being healed. Wich was really really weird!

The lady nodded and pat your head before gesturing to EraserHead that you were now fixed.

He nodded back and took your hand again. Seeing as this man claimed he was a hero, you'd seize your struggeling..  for now.

After another long trip of twists and turns youre back outside. Now walking on a nice path with a bunch of tall buildings next to it.

Where the hell did you end up?

"Students... This is Y/N. They'll be staying here temporally, untill I figure out how to solve their living situation." EraserHead ordered a group of weird looking teens. Wait, stay here?! Your consent was not asked!

Your eyes widen and you instictivly hide behind EraserHead. An action he found just adorable, tough he would never admit that.

The students stared for a moment untill you were suddendly swarmed.

Some pink girl squished your cheeks and you felt observed by everyone.

"Y/N, you're such a cutie. How did you end up here hmm?" The pink lady asked, to wich you had no answer. Luckily, EraserHead still exsisted and shooed the teens away.

"Y/N almost got abducted by a gang. They got hurt so I took them here. They don't seem to have parents or a guardian so untill that is sorted they stay here. If I hear even a single complaint from the kid, you're all dead." He sneered and glared at some spikey haired blonde specifically.

You gulped at all the attention and took a step backwards only to bump into some green haired guy.

He smiled such a friendly smile down at you, it was impossible to feel scared. That was what you tought untill he hugged you.

"Whats your quirk, little Y/N?" He asked sickingly sweet as he held you. You bet he tought it was comforting but after today and the amount of grabbing you've lived trough it was not..

"I um... cry pearls..." You uttered weakly. Overwhelmed by all the states and attention.

He nodded and seemed fascinated. Patting your head. "Thats so cool! Do they stay forever or is it temporary? Is it real pearl or does it just look like it? Does it hurt? Are there drawbacks? Do you get tired? Does i-"

"Shut up you stupid nerb!" That spikey haired blonde dude yelled harshly and his hand suddendly exploded.

You yelped in surprise and clung onto the green haired boy for dear life.

Not a moment later the blonde get wacked in the head by EraserHead.

"Stop bothering them. Introduce yourselfs so I can show them their room, they must be tired." He instructs and they did indeed introduce themselves. Some more elaborate then others but hey.... Its not like you'd remember their names anytime soon...

Like he said, EraserHead, also known as Aizawa now, led you up the stairs and showed you a vacant room.

There was a bed, a coffee table, a desk and a chair.... Thats more then you've ever had! Oh my god?!

Aizawa noticed you absolute bafflement and had to surpress a chuckle.

"Will you be able to sleep kiddo?" He asked softly and looked down at you. You slowly nodded, still taking the room in.

He smiled and pat your head before leaving you in the room. Closing the door behind him. You were now alone. And very tired. So you slumped onto the bed and fell asleep.

"Y/N. Wake up. Satou made breakfast." Some sweet female voice called out to you in your sleep. You slowly opened your eyes and were met with... Momo.... And her last name was too long for you to remember, so Momo it was.

Her black hair was nicely tied up and she put some clothes at the end of your bed.

"Come down when youre ready." She smiled and left your room. You were still sleepy but complied. Wow, these people were nice.

You put on your clothes, you had no clue how they got your meassurements but whatever.

You came downstairs and followed the sound of loud teens.

It led you to the dining room in this weird dorm like building and the room went quiet when you stepped in.

You were almost scared you did something wrong untill the students began argueing on who you should sit next to.

You stood there awkwardly before you were grabbed of the ground by none other then Aizawa and he just plopped you into an empty chair.

Now the people argued over who got to sit next to you but you just shrunk into yourself and quietly ate your food. It was amazing!

The students finally stopped bickering by the time you were done with eating, so, it was all for nothing. You jumped of your seat and went back to your room, unsure of what you were supposed, and allowed, to do.

Like that, life went on for some weeks. Tough you had noticed the way the class had become way more clingy and affectionate. You almost felt like some baby-doll they were assigned to take care off and got too attached to.

Your room had slowly been filled up with gifts and toys you had never seen before. But as much as you wanted to ignore it.... you had noticed how your balcony window did not open...

"Kiri, put me down! I can stand, I have legs!" You huff and struggle. Thats another thing they liked to do. Just pick you up.

"Would you rather not have legs, hmm?" He smiled sickingly sweet. It shut you right up. Another one of those scary remarks.

Something was wrong with these people.

You were hoping and praying for Aizawa to finish finding where you would go. Maybe an orphanage? Perhaps directly to a family?

He would never tell you he stopped searching long ago.

As Kirishima carried you to the living room for a movie you noticed everyone had gathered there.

You were put right in the middle, nicely tucked into a blanket. The movie started and you tried your best to pay attention... but you felt more watched then the movie...

You wanted to go home... But there was no home. You used to live in a dumpster for gods sake! They really had you stuck here.

The evening commenced and you fell asleep on the couch. It was way past your bedtime afterall.

The next day, you just woke up back in your bed. Probably carried there by who knows who... Everyone of these kids was strong enough to carry ten of you!

It was a nice loop. Wake up, eat, get left 'alone' for the school hours, play with the teens, eat, sleep. The same, every day.

You were so stuck in this routine. Figurativly and littarly.

You were used to it yes.... But they wouldn't ever let you leave either.

You hadnt tried yet... But each time you wandered outside you were quickly dragged back... It's like you were watched 24/7.

They didn't want you to play outside. It was dangerous. You could catch a cold, or scrape your knee.

All very normal things. You tried to reason. Back when you lived on the streets you got hurt and sick all the time. It made them even more protective.

Soon, you began noticing. The hushed whispers they tought you didn't hear. The hidden cameras. The damm baby monitor under you bed.

They were crazy! They had to be! What was all this? Why weren't you sent away yet?

What were you doing here?

Answers never came. You just had to stay in the loop. Wake up, eat, get left 'alone' for the school hours, play with the teens, eat, sleep.

Thats what they wanted.

You didn't have to know how dear you were to them. An innocent child. Waiting for them at the end of a stressfull day. Smiling and laughing.

You were precious to them.

You didn't have to know. You just had to stay.

None of them had ever expected that they could agree on something this... unhealty. Yet they did.

These teens, with such diffrencess, agreed to keep you with them.

How absurd.

But it happned anyways.

All was fine untill these 'villains' attacked their school.

From what you've heard, it wasn't the first time. You had seen nothing of the fight.

Aizawa had handed you to Jirou and Asui right at the beginning. They had a simple task. Bring you to the safest possible place.

Wich to your displeasure was a basement.

It was dark and you could hear fighting, but you couldnt go see. Couldnt move.

They made sure of that.

You were like their sibling. Their dear younger sibling.

You had suffred enough.

If they couldnt keep you safe now, how would they ever be great hero's?

So thats how security became even stronger after the attack.

No longer were you even allowed to step a foot outside. Not even look at the door if they could help it.

There was always someone with you.

Some nicer then other.... Surprisingly, Bakugo had more chill then Midoriya.

The angry blonde tought you how too cook omelets while the green nerd didn't even let you lift a finger.

Life was dull, repetitive and utterly.... boring.

What was fun if there were no risks? You couldn't go down a slide without someone holding you the whole way.

Couldnt build a pillow fort without Uraraka standing by for if anything fell.... Not even a pillow could graze your skin or panic would break loose!

You could argue as much as you wanted. In the end it didn't matter. You were the child. You were helpless. You needed them.

They made that clear.

And you would never, ever leave.

Where could you go?

It was them.... or nothing.

Have a nice day/night!

Words: 3543

[ancientgoddessofegypt]

Saturn's Rewards. Time, Commitment, & Learning How To Be A Boss.

Saturn rewards you based off your commitment, discipline, and the amount of effort you put in to obtain the material reality you want.What beliefs, morals, and ideals do you keep in mind to ground yourself? Are you willing to face challenges and adversity? Do you remember to say thank you to the divine even when everything seems down bad?

Looking to where the planet is in your chart will speak volumes on this.

Saturn in the first house has to look forward and see things from their first mind. The second comes after. Just because there is nothing but dirt doesn't mean it cant be made into something special. I heard they sell dirt nowadays, making money off hard shit and making it a gold mine. Thats alchemy.

Commit to yourself and not what others see or think of you. The grass is always greener when its in your own yard.

Saturn in the second needs to learn their values & freedom will apply itself in the future. Financial freedom that is. The cold lessons gotta kick in before you can spend that gold from that treasure you just found! What good is it for a man to have the whole world but with the loss of his soul?

If you want to expand on your fortune, you must first appreciate the things you had before it all started piling in. Remembering your values is how you sustain your possessions and whats worth keeping. You dont need anything thats for shits n giggles all the time. You need things that will show growth in the future, not stagnancy. What are you willing to do to get the things you want? Your soul wants more but commit to having VALUES in place to receive the ideal manifestations of your worldly reality.

Saturn in the third, speak loud or forever hold your peace. These mountains need an echo from the village, and your words hold the key to salvation. You mirror societies dark picture, and theyll paint you into a villian if they can. But not without a fight first. Dont hold your tongue, as the truth will set you and others free.

Speak with authority as the teacher in you propels others to think for themselves and appreciate the power of their minds. You just gotta give it to em a little harder, but they'll think you later ;)

Saturn in the fourth house, the golden child. Yes i said it. They learn the way of their ancestors at a young age. Hell, they might even be the ancestor reincarnated. Jus gotta show everyone a thing or too before you hit it off to the next dimension ;)

These big brains know a lot and carry wisdom like no other. Its a shame that others force themselves (yes, force) to misunderstand them when their young and will convince themselves once more when their old. They can't handle the youngin holding them at a standard they themselves never gave em. Only saturn ;)

Saturn in the 5th. Play play play baby, we only got one life to live and we need yall to live it. They take things to new heights when you give em a lift. Their sturdy on the ground but they dont mind being picked up. They love to be head over heels for someone, they just wont break their standards for you so... they'll typically have to deal with bargainers from time to time. Lucky for them they never budge, which is why they stay single for a while until they find that one. They adore a love affair like in the 90s romance films, but only if it last forever. Their not too into fairytales.

Can be the life of the party but theirs limits to it. Their not your flat out drunk type, but they will be the social drinker.

Again, these babes have a standard and they hold a really good reputation for themselves & they will not do anything stupid for the sake of others enjoyment. More mature settings are best for them, no matter the age.

Saturn in the 6th house, Work work work work work! This is the house they strive in. A beneficial place for saturn before saturn is all about commitment, working hard and putting in the effort even if it makes them sick. Because thats what its like working with the 6th house (or being a virgo) and they can handle it.

Some of the hardest workers and are usually respected and valued by their co-workers and bosses due to them understanding the rules and working with them. Won't talk back unless necessary and pretty much will finish their duties without rebeling against authority. The thing is, they are naturals when it comes to management or being at the head of something so they understand what to do and what not to do. Also prone to take their time no matter how long it takes.

Saturn in the 7th, lonely lovers.. lol jk. these people are really romantic when they want to be, its hard for them to pick the right partners at time due to an influx of standards that are impossible for others to truly meet. Their a rare breed looking for another rare gem to live happily forever with. As that is not a problem, they must face themselves through the art of others showing up for them in a way they wouldn't have noticed was in them all along. Who ever they date is mirroring the inner turmoil they face on a daily, the partner is just turning up the charm on this one.

These radiators are turbulent in mass destruction when their needs aren't met in partnerships. They'll become the storm and turn everything upside down when their not facing the moments that are there to teach em a lesson. Helping them understand the dialects they have between them and other much deeper. It is for their personal growth. Believe in yourself and a better love will come.

Saturn in the 8th, testy testy. Your heart belongs to the world, your blessed to see the unknown from a consciousness thats presented with a crock of bullshit since the time you were born... not kidding. You may see things from more complexed lens from your peers but how you talk they would never know.

You have insights on how the world really works, and for better for worse you can transform things to something beneficial.

the darkside has its perks, you just have to appreciate the light a little better and everything will come together.

9th house saturns just know it all, a cosmic gift. They've learned a lot through past lives and bring it all back to us so we can appreciate the inner knowings of their minds. Their thoughts hold philosophical treasures that help us stick to a certain belief instead of always changing them. Its okay for our thoughts to evolve, but when their constantly changing with no background check it becomes a problem. 9th house saturns believe in committing to a ideal to get the better contract. Otherwise, we'll always be following someone else's tricks to believing in something that doesnt work for society as a whole but just for that person. These individuals train their minds to think bigger and expand on certain details before just sitting with a belief, its just better that way. They need to learn more so they can appreciate the wheel turning to different tides.

Saturn in the 10th, think big, dream big, be BIG. In its rightful house, these potential bosses will rule their world and leave a mark. They know what they want for themselves and they must commit to the details before that plan can get in order.

They must learn themselves in a way that others would not see coming. No such thing as potential when they already are the thing they want to embody, yall just havent seen it yet. They collect enough data before they take the world by storm with their mission and things begin to take shape for them to create space for their higher self. The kings and queens of manifesting their reality, they usually carry a lot of faith with them as they work hard to be where they want to be.

Saturn in the 11th, work hard. play hard. dont forget to thank the community, they did a lot just so they could see you win! Dont run away from help, thats your lesson here. The way you commit to yourself is the fastest way to get others to see your dreams and help you, too. This one is way shorter, i had to get straight to the point <3

Saturn in the 12th, you helpless helpers, lol jk. Seriously though, you guys need to see yourself in a better light. All that guilt shame and fear isnt doing anything but stopping you from achieving what you want. You know, calling yourself that bad word doesnt mean thats what you are... so why keep tricking your mind like that? its only going by what you say it. You're consciousness is smarter than you think. Once you learn the mind you can challenge the mind to benefit you. Commit to changing your way of thinking and watch how reality shape shifts into the world you want to be in.

hope that helps. enjoy everybody!

[shankss-magnificent-ass]

Imagine the beast pirates learning you are a criminal mastermind

Kaido: *going over a cargo manifest* we will sell these in Port Chugal, prepare them for shipment.

King: Port Chugal won't buy pirate goods anymore, the world government found out they've been trading with us, so they replaced the king there.

Kaido: That's the third distribution market I've had to change in the last month. First the Bourgeois Kingdom, then Ballywood, and now Port Chugal. How are they finding my warehouses?

Queen: we don't know at the moment, but we're working on it

You: *King's assistant* I would like to point out something that all three have in common.

King: Silence.

Kaido: let em talk, I want to hear what they have to say.

You: they were all common stops on Captain Rondow's transport route, who was captured almost three months ago by the world government.

Kaido: You think the poor bastard broke under torture?

You: It appears so, and from the other reports we're getting I'm guessing they have figured out how you conduct your exportation operation. *Hands King the reports*

King: *Skims them* we spent years building this system.

You: which means building another will be faster this time. I'm guessing how they're locating our goods is by the fact that while it's labeled under a company that doesn't have any paperwork officially filed in countries we claim it's from.

Kaido: what are we supposed to do, get a business permit?

You: yes, but actually no. Now any new businesses from any nations in your territory will come under scrutiny by the world government. So I think we should find any failing, but long-established companies, and bail them out in exchange for slipping our illicit cargo into their product distribution.

King: that... might actually work, but there's no way we can guarantee their loyalty.

You: that's why you give them a small percentage of the profits and gather blackmail material. Most rich people are sick fucks will have skeletons in their closet, you just have to look for it.

Kaido: I'll entrust the task to you, and in the meantime we'll have Yamato fill in for you with King.

King: what! No! Your son is... not great at paperwork.

Kaido: Sorry bud, but I'd like to see what they can do on their own, so I'm setting them loose.

Returns from setting up the new network seven months later

Kaido: I just got the finance report for the last quarter

You: *literally just got off the boat* Sir?

King: Your network is more efficient than what we had set up.

Kaido: you're getting promoted, so you can manage it from here.

You: But I was really looking forward to working with King again.

Kaido: then you'll work under him not me.

You: I'm keeping my desk in your office.

King: For someone who ruthlessly castrated a man to get him to do what they wanted, you are very clingy and sentimental.

You: I was well within my rights to revoke that man's dick privilege, you had no idea how man people he's assaulted. I did that town a fucking favor by pickling that man's junk

Kaido: you pickled it!

You: Yes I did, how else, so you think I got an entire town to look the other way about our ships coming into the harbor?

Kaido: I never would have thought of that... You know when I met you I never would have guessed you'd be an asset to my operations. You seemed too soft and naive, too kind.

You: *shrugs* Well thank you for thinking I'm kind, but I just so happen to hate you less than the world government, and you have more money than the revolutionary army. And Lin Lin and her family freaks me out.

King: don't forget Akagami and Whitebeard won't hire you since you've worked with us.

You: *clicks your tongue* and I regret it every day.

Coming Soon

[genericpuff]

saw a post criticizing lore rekindled a while back, and one of the points made was "it's unfair to rachel that someone else can profit off and make money off her work"

do you profit off lore rekindled??? i don't remember if you ever said that you were monetizing lore rekindled, so i'm unsure where this piece of information came from

I literally do NOT profit off Rekindled in any way shape or form, it's a Tumblr comic that's free to read, zero subscriptions, paywalls, or ads.

I did just recently open a Patreon and apply my Twitch channel to become affiliate, but 1. my Patreon doesn't have any paid members yet , 2. my Patreon won't be offering rewards that limit the reading experience of Rekindled (it's gonna be like random doodles n junk), and 3. I haven't even streamed since I applied for Affiliate and people are watching the streams for art and lo-fi, not for any sort of exclusive reading experiences that wouldn't also be accessible on Tumblr (you just get to watch me slowly work on Rekindled while playing FF XIV LMAOO) All of these restrictions I have in place is to prevent exactly what folks assume or accuse me - profiting off Rachel's IP. At the end of the day I just wanna create an AU fanfic project, even if it's created out of disappointment for what could have been.

I *do* spend a few hundred a month though for my assistant. So I'm working on Rekindled completely at a loss, out of my own pocket. So in that regard, even if I were to monetize any part of Rekindled... it wouldn't be for my own profitable gain, I'd maybe be able to cover some of my assistant fees 🤣 (but that's just hypothetical food for thought, because as I said above, I don't want to monetize Rekindled because of the potentially legal and ethical issues in doing so. Making money is also just not why I'm making Rekindled because it's something I wanna just do for fun! Money complicates things, turns shit into a job :'0) And let's be real, in that hypothetical scenario, I don't think any money I could generate on my free to read Tumblr project would come anywhere close to threatening Rachel's bottom line 🤣

And this isn't to throw anyone under the bus but when people get suspicious of Rekindled profiting off LO, I can't help but think of the actual fans of LO selling handmade LO merch on Etsy and LO-style adoptables and other arts and crafts dedicated to their favorite comic. And I'm not gonna judge them for that, more power to 'em if people wanna buy their cool stuff (and some of it is really REALLY cool, like I wanna buy their stuff too LOL), I just think it's ironic that people separate the two because... I'm not a diehard fan? Or because Rekindled has gotten popular here. Beats me. All that "popularity" is still just a niche remake of a niche comic in a niche medium. It's not Spiderman Lotus levels of big 🤣 but I know it probably feels that big to people who are engaged with this fandom and spend a lot of time in it.

There's an opposite side of being a yes man that perpetuates similar behavior on the other side - when you come up with reasons to rag on someone just for the sake of it because you can't rationalize them NOT being the all 100% pulp of evil LMAO (and I see people do this even to Rachel and it's not fair imo, like people who use the Lolita thing as a way to accuse Rachel of being a legitimate pedophile? Like no, I don't think we should be normalizing serious accusations like that. I think she's just misinformed in a lot of ways at worst and suffering from dark romantasy porn brainrot at best LOL).

Like, as an example, I've also seen people claim stuff like I'm in the fan spaces telling people not to read LO and to read LR instead? Which like... why would I do that, LR isn't for the fans anyways and I don't gain anything by being a dick in their space 🤣 If my own readers are doing that, that's out of my hands (but respectfully don't do this please!!! there's a reason I don't use the standard LO hashtags and only stick to the anti ones!!!!) but again (and this is a big assumption so take with grains of salt) I think people just like to claim these things because they feel it's just naturally the right thing to do when someone who has opinions they don't like actually puts them into action. Because now they can't say shit like "well if you think you're so much smarter than Rachel why don't YOU write the story!" and "you don't know what it's like to manage a comic!" so they grapple onto whatever other argument they can even if it's misconstrued or entirely pulled out of thin air and not backed up with any legitimate evidence.

Their perspectives make sense to them. My perspective makes sense to me. I don't blame people for being suspicious when they see someone like me pour this much time and effort and money into a project like Rekindled, they assume it HAS to do with something they can rationalize from their own point of view, like wanting to "steal" Rachel's work or profit off it or take it for myself out of "jealousy".

Sorry to disappoint y'all with a boring answer, but I'm just someone who was once a huge fan of LO and couldn't let it go. I'm just someone who's way too hyperfixated, with a lot of passion for making comics and experience to match. I'd still be making it even if I didn't have an assistant. I'd still be making it even if I was stuck working with nothing but paper and pencil. Because I love making it and I love what it means to me, and I love that it makes other people feel the same way I do about it.

And that's really all I have to say on that.

[hannahssimblr]

I shoulder through the front doors into the fresh spring air, still a little breathless with adrenaline, to where Michelle is waiting for me. She looks unhappy. 

“How did it go?” I say. 

“Oh, awful, they were like robots, so intimidating. I didn’t know what they thought of my work, you know? I really thought I’d start crying at one point.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, and that woman was so cold. She was pulling all of these faces at my self portraits and saying they were naive.”

“Oh, God,” In an attempt at reassurance I start rubbing her arm, “I’m sure they liked plenty things about your work.”

“Oh, I don’t know. I sensed they hated all of it.”

“They couldn’t have, it’s probably just your perception, they… I bet they’re harsh to everyone, you know? They probably don’t want to get anyone's hopes up with there being limited places and all…”

She looks at me, “Was yours bad too?”

“Awful,” I say without missing a beat, “Same as you, they gave me nothing. It was hard to tell what they really thought of my work, but they didn’t seem overjoyed by any of it to be honest.”

“Oh,” her shoulders relax, “well if they were like that with you then they must be just playing hard ball.”

“I think so.”

“What if we don’t get in?”

“Well fuck ‘em,” I grin, “We don’t need them. NCAD? Who cares, right? It’s not exactly at the top of our list.”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

“I usually am.”

“Something else will work out, right?”

“Of course it will! C’mon, let’s just grab a coffee and chill out,” I drape my arm over her shoulder and walk her around the corner to where I parked the car. 

The car, the brand new, shiny, blue Volkswagen Polo that my parents got me for my eighteenth birthday, is gleaming under the afternoon sun, one tyre wedged awkwardly against the kerb because I haven’t yet mastered the art of parallel parking when there are two other impatient drivers beeping their horns at me and gesticulating wildly out their windows. 

“He just got his fucking licence, you spas!” Michelle screamed at them from the passenger window as I manoeuvred myself into a gap big enough to house an articulated truck but somehow felt the width of a water closet as soon as I tried to fit my 1.0 litre hatchback into it. I could have told her that firing middle fingers at other drivers left and right wasn’t really doing much to diffuse the situation, but it seemed she was reaching some sort of catharsis from it. She likes that. Screaming, I mean.

This car has been a point of contention, not because I can’t park it well, but because it was an extravagance I neither needed nor desired. “We live in the city,” I protested when my parents handed me the keys, “I can just take the bus.” But they had this idea that I might like to drive it into school and be the envy of all the other students, poverty stricken losers without parents who can buy them vehicles worth half the average national salary. I told them I can just walk like always, and they didn’t like that. 

“This is a good present,” said my dad, as though insisting could make it so, “You can drive all over, you won’t have to rely on public transport any more.”

“Did I say I didn’t like public transport?”

“Well, you could get mugged on the bus, someone could pull out a knife and take your phone and all of your money! That kind of thing is happening all over the city lately.”

I showed him my Nokia from 2004 and asked him what kind of person might like to risk prison for it, but he didn’t appreciate that, and it just escalated the argument further. 

“I’m not going to even live in Ireland in a year, not if I can help it!” I cried with exasperation, after a further ten minutes of his dramatics, “What’s the point?”

“Sell it then!” he bellowed back, “I don’t care what you do! It’s yours!”

“I just don’t need it! It’s too much. You can use that money for something better.”

“Money? Money is not an issue.”

“Well that car will be wasted just sitting in the driveway.”

“You’ll figure out what to use it for.”

And I did. I still walk to school, I still take the bus into town most days (when I’m not hauling two A1 portfolio cases along with me), but sometimes, late at night Michelle and I drive up and down the coast. We get ice cream at the drive through, we talk, but mostly I park it in the darkest corner of some car park, sea facing for maximum romance, and we fuck in the passenger seat. Not that I’ve kept track of it by any means, but I’m almost certain I have spent more time having sex in my shiny, blue, Volkswagen Polo than actually driving it. I’m sure it wasn’t Christopher’s intention for it, and it might affect the resale value, but the car has become a haven of sorts, a place where we can go to be alone, at a safe distance from my nosy sister, from Michelle’s anxious father, and perhaps most vitally, from Jen, who has never quite stopped being weirded out by our relationship, even with nine full months to get used to it.

Beginning // Prev // Next

[talesfrommedinastation]

My redneck neighbor Doug watches 'Bad Territory'

As a few people have quickly surmised, the Bad Batch episode in which they go to Space Swampy Badtimes and punch gators was going to send Doug over the edge with joy. Y'all right!

So, turn up the CCR to 'Born on the Bayou', and prepare for some of the more unhinged things Doug's texted me.

CW: Little more mild, just excitement. When Doug starts rambling about Cajun food, just click here. He says it's one of the best places for boudin and bbq and they'll even process a deer you found on the highway.

------------------------------------------------------------

Episode 8: “::happy Cajun noises::”

Well we back in Space Daytona, outside the HMS Search Warrant because Daddy Rambo can’t afford a trailer now. Does that thing have air conditioning? 

Man, Toaster Strudel’s always gone, is he a space trucker now or what.

Oh, man, it’s Church Lady! She don’t seem too upset by Ryan-from-Accounting being somewhere else, fighting the Space Balrog. But we know why she’s not sad. 

(Does this involve Mayday?

"Who?"

Sassy Park Ranger?

"Hell yeah it does! He’s her beau."

What about Ryan-from-Accounting?

"I done told you once I tell you again RYAN-FROM-ACCOUNTING DIDN’T DESERVE THAT SMART INDEPENDENT WOMAN NONE!")

Maybe Daddy Warcrimes will hang out with Church Lady and she can double dip with him and Sassy Park Ranger. It’s Thanksgiving, dark meat and white meat are on the plate.

(WTF?!)

Well you know why Church Lady’s the Church Lady? She’s been talking to other church folks and if there’s one person who knows how to get info on people it’s the church ladies. Seriously, how do you think they organize EVERYTHING and know EVERYONE. You think they go to church for Jesus that’s a bald lie up in here. 

So Julio fires up the stolen work truck and he and Daddy Rambo are off. 

Wait, if that’s their home, where Little Orphan Blondie and Daddy Warcrimes sleeping? The beach? Come on now. 

Aw, shit, man, is that THOTH STATION?! Meat Muffin, these show people reading your white trash love story book and made it into reality! They owe you MONEY GIRL! Think they’ll meet Fred Johnson or Anderson Dawes?!

And look it’s CAMINA DRUMMER! 

Oh wait no that’s that Chick-that’s-in-Everything! Looks like she’s doing business with the guy Han Solo shot in the club. Think she’s selling him Columbian nose candy? 

Well she’s drinking a whole thing of pinot, don’t blame her, I’d be drinking if Daddy Rambo was up in my club whining for names. Go on the Facebook, Daddy Rambo, it’d be easier.

They’re off somewhere else to help the Chick-that’s-in-Everything. OH MY SWEET TITS OF CHRIST THEY IN LOUISIANA AGAIN! IT’S AN OIL REFINERY! No one can breath! They got a PONTOON! Everything’s orange and sticky!

Oh look at them out in them stinky bayous of Terrebonne Parish! Man did they film this entire season in my home state like it’s the first season of True Detective now I wonder. Man that was a good show. 

Aw man, mines in the water! It IS TERREBONNE PARISH! “He won’t expect us,” damn right he won’t. The Chick-Thats-In-Everything sure knows her shit. She’s a redneck hunter and the lady’s got grit. I wonder if she’s caught Steven Segal. 

There better be OH MAN IT IS! 

SPACE GATORS!!!!!

YEAH! PUNCH EM JULIO! SHOOT EM CHICK-THAT’S-IN-EVERYTHING! OH DADDY RAMBO GOT CAUGHT BUT JULIO PUNCHED IT TOO! PUNCHING GATORS AND THROWING KNIVES AND SHOOTING GUNS IN THE BAYOU, MEAT MUFFIN I LOVE THIS DAMN SHOW!!!!!

The only bad thing about this is now I need to go back to Thibodaux to Bourgeois and get some crawfish boudin, maybe some cracklings, some hogshead cheese too. 

Daddy Warcrimes is doing that thing where you sit around and breathe. Jenny tells me to do that. I’m like woman I do that every damn day at work what’s the difference now. 

They’re at the place–it’s a shack in the woods surrounded by home made bombs and the owner’s armed to the teeth?! MEAT MUFFIN THEY GONE DONE AND FILMED IT AT MY COUSIN CLAYTON'S HOUSE IN TERREBONNE PARISH NOW!!!!

Oh man it ain’t my cousin Clayton whose been weird since he got out of Angola,  now they’re hunting Jeff Goldblum from The Fly! Except now he’s a mantis! Hate those things. Jenny set one on fire after she caught it snapping at one of her hummingbirds. That woman, man, you don’t mess with her garden, she’ll take out the hairspray and a lighter and make a torch out of it. Love her. Married two dozen years now.*

Oh! Jeff Goldblum is trying to escape–but the Chick-That’s-In-Everything knows her shit and cuts her own wire to the pontoon! Maybe she IS Camina Drummer after all. 

Oh, man, they done got that mantis son of a bitch. Now, back to Thoth Station, and of course, the Chick-That’s-in-Everything ain’t coughing up a dime. Just flings Daddy Rambo right off her ship. 

Oh, man, who is she calling? 

I hope it’s not Gun-Safety-Muppet, I hate that blue bastard. 

*= Jenny is a delight and really does flip from ‘Sweetie, you need to meditate’ to ‘I will set bugs on fire for threatening my birds’. She’s the one who taught Jimmers to corner and kill everything in their yard.

@skellymom @cdblake1565 @sued134 @amalthiaph @yeehawgeek @merkitty49 @eyecandyeoz @isthereanechoinhere96 who else loves Redneck Doug?

If you want to be added, please let me know!

PS- I have his ramblings from the last two episodes, but they were not nearly as deranged as this.

[prettyboyeddiemunson]

omfg plss idk what your thoughts for p⭐️ eddie are but the thought of him doing it and making SCHMONEY and having the nickname the freak for good…..makes me nutz…….

HE WOULD MAKE SO MUCH MONEY EYE—

he would be a really popular one, i’m thinking. his movies sell like crazy, he’s very in demand, he’ll do pretty much anything on camera, so nothing is off limits for him. any sex act, any type of adult movie, he’s open to everything and it makes him a very sought-after star. he definitely no longer struggles financially, either; baby boy is rich now because of the movies he’s doing. and yes, he would have the nickname “the freak” for good, because of what he’s willing & excited to do in the industry. “the freak” is how he’s known in the industry, among directors, producers, and other stars.

i’m trying to think of a good p**n star name for him, though! the vampire slut in me wants to say something vampy, because he gives off the vampire vibes and the spooky vibes to many who know him. i also wanna say that if he’s a star when the dark tower books come out, he’s gonna take eddie dean as his pseudonym. he’s a nerd and i know he would love those books, and yeah, he is identifying hardcore with eddie fucking dean. he’s also a cheeky fuck, so i could see him using dracula or something in his name. but for now, I’m going with eddie dean, unless & until I think of something better!

and piercings? he’s got ‘em! tongue, nipples, possibly some kind of genital piercing, but the first two for sure. he also has more tattoos than what we saw in canon, but not many. i can see maybe a couple more arm tats, maybe two more torso tattoos, and a thigh tattoo. he still looks the exact same—long dark hair, breathtaking bambi eyes, same fashion sense when he’s not working on a set. it works well for him, though: he’s pulling men & women left and right, he’s going to parties, he’s dating supermodels, he’s living his truly best life as a p**n star.

which we all know will get even better the moment you walk into his life, because goddamn, he’s never met a girl like you. someone who doesn’t care who he is, someone who gives him a chase & a challenge, someone who won’t take his or anyone else’s shit. fuck, he’s head over heels the moment he sets eyes on you, and he has to have you. nothing else will do; he will quit the industry, if he has to. that’s how desperate he is to have you in his life.

oh, and lastly, we gotta talk about how…gifted he is inside those pants. this man is huge, like he has a hot demand for a reason. it’s his skills, too, and his abilities to do anything that’s asked of him, but his dick? nine inches long at least, pretty good girth, and he knows how the fuck to use it. it’s brought him this far, and is going to take him even further, i’m telling you.

[bookishtheaterlover7]

Random anon here, we’ll to those who are mad at Chris, let me ask you all, what should he have done?

It’s easy to say not gotten into This mess, duh, but he’s in it and deep in it.

It’s easy on the outside looking in to say just leave but umm like the marketing anon stated….it’s a business and one thing you don’t fuck with is people’s money especially those with more power and influence than you.

See I’m not making any excuses for Chris but I see people ragging on him but never stopping to realize we don’t have the full scope of this, huge missing pieces are left out and many are inserting their opinions and speculation as facts.

Be mad sure, but had Chris said no who’s to say this man wouldn’t have ended up blacklisted, lost everything he’s worked for etc. also he’s human and the pandemic scared at lot of people, even Scott stated Chris was worried about money during a podcast in 2020, Scott laughed but I never forgot that. Pr is easy money I’m sure. Things start out looking simple and then go left, again it’s easy to say well he would have said no, at least he’d had his integrity and morals, okay…..but if he ends up on a where are they now and homeless, severe drug addiction or mental issues due to losing everything then what.

My point is we don’t know shit and it’s easy to act like we do. Chris isn’t an idiot so I assume there’s more to this and he’s stuck because no way in hell things would be playing out the way they have nor would he be looking like a shell of his former self if he had power to end this or if this were real.

He’s human, be mad but don’t act like you haven’t ever fucked up in life either. I hate the high and mighty bullshit posts from people over shit you have no knowledge of.

Hollywood is a fucked up place and let me drop a bomb on you all, majority of the shit people sit online discussing is purposely created to keep people engaged from random headlines to bs from tv shows, news stories, movies, celeb drama, we’re all entangled in the web.

Example: Marketing is creating a story about two celebs fighting or dating and in reality the celebs never met but the rumor is now out there and they test to see the reactions.

Many feel Chris image is fake due to this mess but was it? I’m sure he would have revealed himself years before this mess if this was who he truly is.

Use your brains people, don’t fall for bullshit and don’t waste time fussing and cursing Chris everyday because you think this is some simple PR stunt he chose to do or that he’s actually with her.

Truth always come to light so don’t take anything personal and sit back and just watch until it all explodes. Lies can only last so long. 💅

An🫶n, you make an excellent point. And I wholeheartedly agree with you.

Chris may be a celebrity, but he's also a guy who needs to keep money flowing in order to live.

A big possibility, purely speculation, but the PR contract must have been tied to a lot of money. Money that post pandemic, he definitely needs. So, he's selling this, failing, but selling to get the check. And as shallow as that is, he definitely needs the money like any other grown up with bills.

So, let's cut Chris a little slack. And let's not wish him harm, because I heard from the grapevine that someone in the Fandom has wished him harm.

Not naming names. But that's fucked up, and you're no better than the people on the other side, whoever you are.

As for the fans that only want the best for Chris, let's ride the waves, hang in there, and continue to call 'em out! Or ignore certain tantrum-like antics. Whatever the occasion calls for 😌

[ill-say-anything-i-hafta]

The Lower Manhattan Boys (and Spot Conlon) Tell You How They Make Extra Money In the Winter

1. Thievin'

Jack: I will pick a pocket if the opportunity presents itself, but the church collection boxes is easiest, especially at this time of year.

Racetrack: That's a big risk Jack. They's always gonna be lookin' closer at a guy like you. it's just another form of gamblin', really.

Jack: Hey, you stay out of this, pal. You sound like Dave. And it ain't as if Ise stealin' stuff away from the intended recipients. Them funds is supposed to be for the poor and needy, right? Ain't we poor?

Racetrack: You want another card, or is we gonna sit here jawin' all night?

Jack: I fold.

2. Shovelin' walkways

Buttons: We charges two cents to do the stretch of sidewalk in front of your shop or your home, plus an extra penny if you wants your stoop cleared. Railings is free. And we gives a discount if you is old and feeble.

Romeo: Or if you is pretty.

Buttons: We do Jacobi's and the theater for free.

Jojo: But we charges extra if you looks like you can afford it. Miss Katherine taught us this is called bein' an entrepreneur.

Buttons: Hey, dummy, speak for yourself. I don't need no girl to teach me big words. In fact, I already knowed that one.

Jojo: Well I ain't needed to know it to do it. Ise a natural.

3. Encouragin' tips

Crutchie: I gets around all right, generally. Don't let no one tell you different. But ice and snow on cobblestones ain't no picnic for me. And damp weather like this, the leg won't hardly give me no peace. I miss a lot of sellin' days. But I got a compensatory seasonal advantage. Here's what I do: I fumble with the change. More often than not, by the time I gets the coins out of my pocket, they don't even want 'em.

Les: So what? I do that every single day of the year. It doesn't always work, but it can't hurt, right?

Crutchie: Youse real cute, Les. But let's just say someone like me gets more tips in December.

Les: Why?

Crutchie: Look. It ain't my fault some fella wrote a Christmas story about a kid with a crutch. It ain't my fault if i puts folks in mind of that kid. I didn't ask for it.

Les: But you're Jewish, like us. Aren't you?

Crutchie: Shh! Who told you that?

Les: Specs.

Crutchie: Well, keep it under your hat. There's money on the line.

4. Totin' packages and similar errends

Elmer: I'se the only who makes money this way because no one in their right mind would trust most of these boys. But I got a innocent face. And luckily for my regulars, I got a honest disposition to go along with it.

5. Soakin' Midtown kids

Albert: Complain all you like about the short, dark days of winter, but there is some things I happen to like about this time of year. The sight of a wreath of greenery and berries hangin' on someone's door. Hot chestnuts from a cart. The cheery fellow-feeling that is in evidence everywhere you -- hey, ain't that Lefty Petrovitch? What's he doin' south of Fourteenth Street?

Spot: [Cracking her knuckles] Let's get him!

Albert: I appreciate your help, Spot.

Spot: It is my personal pleasure, Al. In fact, this is one of my favorite pastimes of the Christmas season because not only is I doin' you a good turn, but we might also make a tidy profit besides, depenin' on how good he was sellin'.

Albert: Just 'cause we all got a union together don't mean kids should get away with floutin' mutually agreed-upon territorial boundaries.

Spot: Yeah!

Albert: Remind me, why does Race get to sell way across the bridge at Sheepshead?

Spot: [Cracking her knuckles again] I often find myself ponderin' that self-same question.

FIN.

[imlivinginyourtrashcan]

back at it again with the swap au

In this version, Giovanni is a mundie! Part of the crime family, The Potages! Only containing Gio, his two moms, and his very concerned Epithet having cousins, The Roughhouses

Now for what you've all been waiting for:

The mugger shrunk back. W-what the hell was she supposed to do in a situation like this?! Her eyes darted over towards the two teens cowering next to the backpack. Desperately, she grabbed the sea urchin looking one and held him at knifepoint, he pantomimed in mute protest.

"St-stop right there!" She shouted. "Don't you care what happens to these two?!"

Giovanni's grin did not falter for a second, in fact, it had gotten wider. More gremlin esc, you could say. He flicked his arms, hiding them inside his sleeves. "You think a hostage can save your ass? HAH!" He barked. "Go 'head, don't need 'em alive to sell their stuff, best thing they can do is postpone the inevitable by a few seconds, then I'll have three more body's under my belt." He flicked his sleeves, several switchblades coming out from inside, dragging them across the alley walls, his foot steps driving into the mugger's head like a mysterious ticking noise

Tik

Tik

Tik

"Is five thousand dollars worth their lives? Is it worth yours? You gonna wake up with five thousand in your pocket after you watch two teenagers die in front of ya? Or ya gonna let yourself die? These are aaaaalll hypothetical, it don't matter to me! It's your choice 'Sides," Giovanni stopped, eyes gazing the mugger with a serious, shaded away expression, like in an anime. "I've killed for less."

Suddenly, Giovanni charged the mugger head on until she ran out of the alleyway, screaming her head off like she had just saw five horror movies all at once.

Giovanni stopped, waiting until dead silence was all that remained.

Once there was reassurance that she was fully gone, the two ex-hostages looked at their saviour.

Giovanni Potage did not have an Epithet

Giovanni Potage had never been in a real fight in all seventeen years of his life.

Giovanni Potage started to laugh out of panic

"HOOOLY SMOKES!!! HAHAHAHA!!!" He spat quickly, hiding the knives in his sleeves while he gripped the wall. "That was SO SCARY! Hah! I may be laughing but on the inside I'm dying!"

Giovanni hadn't lied to the mugger fully about his background, his side of the family were a bunch of criminals, growing up learning how to scare, cheat, and lie his way through life. He tries his best to put all that behind him, though. If he had an Epithet, like his parents, he would use all these tricks all he wanted, but, he was a Mundie. So that means he has to lay low.

He desperately wheezed, hacking up whatever was in his throat. "Oh my god what a rush! I straight up thought we were all gonna croak! I know I kept my cool, but I swear If anyone touched me I would turn to dust."

Rick wrapped his arms around Giovanni, crying big stupid tears. "GIOVANNII!!!! MY SECOND BESTEST FRIEND!!! THANK YOU!!! YOU'VE SAVED US FROM THE MONEY HUNGRY WENCH!!!!!"

Giovanni awkwardly patted his back, then Lorelai was dragged into the hug, Rick nestling his head in the middle, tears falling onto the concreate.

"You too, Lorelai! I am so sorry the woman had drenched your work! But the best thing is that.... we are ALL HERE!!"

Ah, the beloved Neo Trio. Standing near each other, all three looked like Neapolitan ice cream, Lorelai and Rick's hair even made it so some of the ice-cream got into their section, authentic!

Giovanni Potage and Rick Shades, Lorelai's best friends, she cared about them more than anything else.

Now for RICK! Our beloved Rich little Sea Urchin! In the au, he's a Mundie, much like Giovanni. Being homeschooled most of his life, Rick never really got people, and people never really got him. He later finds two new BEST FRIENDS! Giovanni and Lorelai.

The good stuff:

"Hey.."

"Oh- eh- hello!" Rick waved awkwardly like a robot, as he started to sweat from the very thought of human interaction.

"Nice lookin' bag ya got there..."

The 'bag' she was referring to was Rick's murse, it was a cute little purple purse in the shape of a sea urchin. Rick had a... strange obsession with sea creatures, sea slugs, cephalopods, isopods, shrimps, crabs, you name it? He loved it. Sometimes he would tell random strangers facts only he thinks are cool.

"Thank you!" Rick held it up "It's a sea urchin! By the way, did you know that the sea urchin uses the hydraulic pressure of water moving in and out of their tube feet to move about slowly. They can also propel themselves along with their spines. That's pretty impressive, considering sea urchins don't actually have brains!" Rick info dumped, not picking up on the fact the woman clearly did not care.

"Look's expensive..."

"Oh indeed it was! I had to personally commission it!" Rick grinned, like a glitched character in a video game. The air got too thick with awkward silence to where he had to leave. "Well! Bye!" He quickly made a break for the exit, but the woman blocked her path.

"Who'd you get to commission it for ya? Might be lookin t'get one.."

"Oh! I paid that nice man at the Baxter's crafting store! No clue what his name was, but I'm sure he'd be happy to make it for you!" The bells in his head were not going off when they really should be

"Ooooooh Baxter's? Gee, I don't think I can afford it"

"Hm! Troubling!" Rick blinked, pulling out a book about Marine Biology from his murse. "Anyways, do you want to hear about 101 Ocean Wildlife Facts?"

Rick did not wait for an answer before flipping through it, clearing his throat, he read the first fact. "Number one! Many bony fish have more than just one set of nostrils. The nostrils of fish also do not open into the back of the mouth like those of mammals, and are not, therefore, for breathing. They lead into organs of smell, which are very sensitive in order for fish to detect the presence of food in the water at considerable distances. More nostrils = more smelling! Huh! Well isn't that neat?"

Rick, once again, did not wait for a reply from the woman. "Ahem, number two-"

The woman didn't think twice before trying to snatch the murse from Rick, making him grab for it with a whine. "Heyyy! That's mine!"

"Not for long!" The woman replied, tugging it. Rick shimmied his way out of her grasp, clutching the murse closely as he shoved the book back inside it.

"You bully! You could've broken it! I know just how to deal with you!" Rick declared, inching closer to the woman before embracing her. "You are only mean because of what society has done! I will be the first to break your mind away from these patterns of violence and thievery! I... forgive you!"

The woman swiftly snatched up the boy by his aquarium back pack, causing him to flail and wail.

"NOOOOOOOO!!! VHS TAPES!!!!! YOU LIEEEEEEEEE!!!!!"