#make money on autopilot

[wisso8220]

Sign up to coinbase: https://bit.ly/3dzCSEQ

#money mindset #make money #law of

attraction #wealthy #wealth #motivation

#finance #personal finance #hustle

#entrepreneur

[houseofaproko]

[babyfairy]

feeling resentful again. and i know it’s probably just the grief. it’s the week of his death anniversary. but i am just so tired. can feel myself wanting to pull away from everyone again and i know i need to fight it. but i just feel so angry and disappointed by everything. i’m so tired of having hope or expecting things to have a better outcome than they actually do. i’m so tired of feeling like i have to scream and beg for help. and nothing even helps. i just feel alone at the end of every single day anyways. it’s always the same. feel like the world has left me behind and forgotten about me and no amount of begging for it to stop can fix it

[bestiasilvanus]

Man this post graduation burnout is hitting hard

[minotaurfemme]

ough jelly arms

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Tesla's Dieselgate

Elon Musk lies a lot. He lies about being a “utopian socialist.” He lies about being a “free speech absolutist.” He lies about which companies he founded:

https://www.businessinsider.com/tesla-cofounder-martin-eberhard-interview-history-elon-musk-ev-market-2023-2 He lies about being the “chief engineer” of those companies:

https://www.quora.com/Was-Elon-Musk-the-actual-engineer-behind-SpaceX-and-Tesla

He lies about really stupid stuff, like claiming that comsats that share the same spectrum will deliver steady broadband speeds as they add more users who each get a narrower slice of that spectrum:

https://www.eff.org/wp/case-fiber-home-today-why-fiber-superior-medium-21st-century-broadband

The fundamental laws of physics don’t care about this bullshit, but people do. The comsat lie convinced a bunch of people that pulling fiber to all our homes is literally impossible — as though the electrical and phone lines that come to our homes now were installed by an ancient, lost civilization. Pulling new cabling isn’t a mysterious art, like embalming pharaohs. We do it all the time. One of the poorest places in America installed universal fiber with a mule named “Ole Bub”:

https://www.newyorker.com/tech/annals-of-technology/the-one-traffic-light-town-with-some-of-the-fastest-internet-in-the-us

Previous tech barons had “reality distortion fields,” but Musk just blithely contradicts himself and pretends he isn’t doing so, like a budget Steve Jobs. There’s an entire site devoted to cataloging Musk’s public lies:

https://elonmusk.today/

But while Musk lacks the charm of earlier Silicon Valley grifters, he’s much better than they ever were at running a long con. For years, he’s been promising “full self driving…next year.”

https://pluralistic.net/2022/10/09/herbies-revenge/#100-billion-here-100-billion-there-pretty-soon-youre-talking-real-money

He’s hasn’t delivered, but he keeps claiming he has, making Teslas some of the deadliest cars on the road:

https://www.washingtonpost.com/technology/2023/06/10/tesla-autopilot-crashes-elon-musk/

Tesla is a giant shell-game masquerading as a car company. The important thing about Tesla isn’t its cars, it’s Tesla’s business arrangement, the Tesla-Financial Complex:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/11/24/no-puedo-pagar-no-pagara/#Rat

Once you start unpacking Tesla’s balance sheets, you start to realize how much the company depends on government subsidies and tax-breaks, combined with selling carbon credits that make huge, planet-destroying SUVs possible, under the pretense that this is somehow good for the environment:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/04/14/for-sale-green-indulgences/#killer-analogy

But even with all those financial shenanigans, Tesla’s got an absurdly high valuation, soaring at times to 1600x its profitability:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/01/15/hoover-calling/#intangibles

That valuation represents a bet on Tesla’s ability to extract ever-higher rents from its customers. Take Tesla’s batteries: you pay for the battery when you buy your car, but you don’t own that battery. You have to rent the right to use its full capacity, with Tesla reserving the right to reduce how far you go on a charge based on your willingness to pay:

https://memex.craphound.com/2017/09/10/teslas-demon-haunted-cars-in-irmas-path-get-a-temporary-battery-life-boost/

That’s just one of the many rent-a-features that Tesla drivers have to shell out for. You don’t own your car at all: when you sell it as a used vehicle, Tesla strips out these features you paid for and makes the next driver pay again, reducing the value of your used car and transfering it to Tesla’s shareholders:

https://www.theverge.com/2020/2/6/21127243/tesla-model-s-autopilot-disabled-remotely-used-car-update

To maintain this rent-extraction racket, Tesla uses DRM that makes it a felony to alter your own car’s software without Tesla’s permission. This is the root of all autoenshittification:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/24/rent-to-pwn/#kitt-is-a-demon

This is technofeudalism. Whereas capitalists seek profits (income from selling things), feudalists seek rents (income from owning the things other people use). If Telsa were a capitalist enterprise, then entrepreneurs could enter the market and sell mods that let you unlock the functionality in your own car:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/06/11/1-in-3/#boost-50

But because Tesla is a feudal enterprise, capitalists must first secure permission from the fief, Elon Musk, who decides which companies are allowed to compete with him, and how.

Once a company owns the right to decide which software you can run, there’s no limit to the ways it can extract rent from you. Blocking you from changing your device’s software lets a company run overt scams on you. For example, they can block you from getting your car independently repaired with third-party parts.

But they can also screw you in sneaky ways. Once a device has DRM on it, Section 1201 of the DMCA makes it a felony to bypass that DRM, even for legitimate purposes. That means that your DRM-locked device can spy on you, and because no one is allowed to explore how that surveillance works, the manufacturer can be incredibly sloppy with all the personal info they gather:

https://www.cnbc.com/2019/03/29/tesla-model-3-keeps-data-like-crash-videos-location-phone-contacts.html

All kinds of hidden anti-features can lurk in your DRM-locked car, protected from discovery, analysis and criticism by the illegality of bypassing the DRM. For example, Teslas have a hidden feature that lets them lock out their owners and summon a repo man to drive them away if you have a dispute about a late payment:

https://tiremeetsroad.com/2021/03/18/tesla-allegedly-remotely-unlocks-model-3-owners-car-uses-smart-summon-to-help-repo-agent/

DRM is a gun on the mantlepiece in Act I, and by Act III, it goes off, revealing some kind of ugly and often dangerous scam. Remember Dieselgate? Volkswagen created a line of demon-haunted cars: if they thought they were being scrutinized (by regulators measuring their emissions), they switched into a mode that traded performance for low emissions. But when they believed themselves to be unobserved, they reversed this, emitting deadly levels of NOX but delivering superior mileage.

The conversion of the VW diesel fleet into mobile gas-chambers wouldn’t have been possible without DRM. DRM adds a layer of serious criminal jeopardy to anyone attempting to reverse-engineer and study any device, from a phone to a car. DRM let Apple claim to be a champion of its users’ privacy even as it spied on them from asshole to appetite:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/11/14/luxury-surveillance/#liar-liar

Now, Tesla is having its own Dieselgate scandal. A stunning investigation by Steve Stecklow and Norihiko Shirouzu for Reuters reveals how Tesla was able to create its own demon-haunted car, which systematically deceived drivers about its driving range, and the increasingly desperate measures the company turned to as customers discovered the ruse:

https://www.reuters.com/investigates/special-report/tesla-batteries-range/

The root of the deception is very simple: Tesla mis-sells its cars by falsely claiming ranges that those cars can’t attain. Every person who ever bought a Tesla was defrauded.

But this fraud would be easy to detect. If you bought a Tesla rated for 353 miles on a charge, but the dashboard range predictor told you that your fully charged car could only go 150 miles, you’d immediately figure something was up. So your Telsa tells another lie: the range predictor tells you that you can go 353 miles.

But again, if the car continued to tell you it has 203 miles of range when it was about to run out of charge, you’d figure something was up pretty quick — like, the first time your car ran out of battery while the dashboard cheerily informed you that you had 203 miles of range left.

So Teslas tell a third lie: when the battery charge reached about 50%, the fake range is replaced with the real one. That way, drivers aren’t getting mass-stranded by the roadside, and the scam can continue.

But there’s a new problem: drivers whose cars are rated for 353 miles but can’t go anything like that far on a full charge naturally assume that something is wrong with their cars, so they start calling Tesla service and asking to have the car checked over.

This creates a problem for Tesla: those service calls can cost the company $1,000, and of course, there’s nothing wrong with the car. It’s performing exactly as designed. So Tesla created its boldest fraud yet: a boiler-room full of anti-salespeople charged with convincing people that their cars weren’t broken.

This new unit — the “diversion team” — was headquartered in a Nevada satellite office, which was equipped with a metal xylophone that would be rung in triumph every time a Tesla owner was successfully conned into thinking that their car wasn’t defrauding them.

When a Tesla owner called this boiler room, the diverter would run remote diagnostics on their car, then pronounce it fine, and chide the driver for having energy-hungry driving habits (shades of Steve Jobs’s “You’re holding it wrong”):

https://www.wired.com/2010/06/iphone-4-holding-it-wrong/

The drivers who called the Diversion Team weren’t just lied to, they were also punished. The Tesla app was silently altered so that anyone who filed a complaint about their car’s range was no longer able to book a service appointment for any reason. If their car malfunctioned, they’d have to request a callback, which could take several days.

Meanwhile, the diverters on the diversion team were instructed not to inform drivers if the remote diagnostics they performed detected any other defects in the cars.

The diversion team had a 750 complaint/week quota: to juke this stat, diverters would close the case for any driver who failed to answer the phone when they were eventually called back. The center received 2,000+ calls every week. Diverters were ordered to keep calls to five minutes or less.

Eventually, diverters were ordered to cease performing any remote diagnostics on drivers’ cars: a source told Reuters that “Thousands of customers were told there is nothing wrong with their car” without any diagnostics being performed.

Predicting EV range is an inexact science as many factors can affect battery life, notably whether a journey is uphill or downhill. Every EV automaker has to come up with a figure that represents some kind of best guess under a mix of conditions. But while other manufacturers err on the side of caution, Tesla has the most inaccurate mileage estimates in the industry, double the industry average.

Other countries’ regulators have taken note. In Korea, Tesla was fined millions and Elon Musk was personally required to state that he had deceived Tesla buyers. The Korean regulator found that the true range of Teslas under normal winter conditions was less than half of the claimed range.

Now, many companies have been run by malignant narcissists who lied compulsively — think of Thomas Edison, archnemesis of Nikola Tesla himself. The difference here isn’t merely that Musk is a deeply unfit monster of a human being — but rather, that DRM allows him to defraud his customers behind a state-enforced opaque veil. The digital computers at the heart of a Tesla aren’t just demons haunting the car, changing its performance based on whether it believes it is being observed — they also allow Musk to invoke the power of the US government to felonize anyone who tries to peer into the black box where he commits his frauds.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/28/edison-not-tesla/#demon-haunted-world

This Sunday (July 30) at 1530h, I’m appearing on a panel at Midsummer Scream in Long Beach, CA, to discuss the wonderful, award-winning “Ghost Post” Haunted Mansion project I worked on for Disney Imagineering.

Image ID [A scene out of an 11th century tome on demon-summoning called 'Compendium rarissimum totius Artis Magicae sistematisatae per celeberrimos Artis hujus Magistros. Anno 1057. Noli me tangere.' It depicts a demon tormenting two unlucky would-be demon-summoners who have dug up a grave in a graveyard. One summoner is held aloft by his hair, screaming; the other screams from inside the grave he is digging up. The scene has been altered to remove the demon's prominent, urinating penis, to add in a Tesla supercharger, and a red Tesla Model S nosing into the scene.]

Image: Steve Jurvetson (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Tesla_Model_S_Indoors.jpg

CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/deed.en

[pmland]

Real Keyword Targeted Website Traffic

[schrodingerscougar]

Part two for this one. I'm sorry for the cliffhanger in the first part. The illustration is from the amazing @ave661 .

--

Four months. That’s how much time it took Simon to get out of that hazy fugue state. He didn’t really remember what he had gone through during that time, his brain switched to autopilot after the breakup. He often wondered why it affected him this much when he didn’t even love you. You were just someone he spent time with, someone he tried to play house with for a short while to feel normal.

Still, now as he lay on his bed, watching the ceiling fan rotate to stir up the hot air in the room, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. He even found himself opening a social media app to search for your name from a fake account he had set up a long time ago, and he was shocked to see the most recent photo of you. It was impossible to miss the unmistakable shape of a baby bump under your shirt, and based on its size, you got pregnant long months ago.

When he was finally allowed to go home for a short while, Simon went to see you. He knew he had hurt you, he knew you were probably still mad at him, but he had to know if it was his child. It only happened one time. One night when he tried to fix things by giving you what you wanted, hoping sex could make him see you in another light. Maybe he would finally want you the way you always wanted him to want you. But it didn’t work, and it was after that night he made the final decision to end things with you.

“What do you want?” you asked him when you opened the door.

Simon nodded as he bit the inside of his cheek. This cold welcome was fair enough, he deserved this kind of treatment. Normally, he would have left you alone. But normally, you would have told him you were pregnant.

So he silently pointed at your belly and waited for you to realize what he wanted. He knew you weren't dumb, the pieces would fall into place in a second. And sure enough, you let out a sigh then opened the door wider to let him in.

“Why didn't you tell me?” he asked you as he stood in the kitchen next to you with his arms crossed.

You were busy making him a cup of tea, but you took the time to silently shrug. When he let out a heavy sigh, you looked over at him and said, “I didn't think you'd care, Si. Simple as that.”

You were right. He didn't care. Even now that he was looking at you, his eyes occasionally moving to the bump that hid his own blood, his mind was somewhere else. He was a soldier, he knew how to take responsibility for his actions. You getting pregnant was his fault too. He couldn't just ignore the problem.

“I’ll pay child support,” he assured you.

“No need.”

Simon reached out to put a hand on the base of your neck, but you quickly pushed his hand away before he could touch your skin. “You don’t have to do this alone.”

You inhaled through your nose and held your breath in for a few seconds before finally exhaling. “So what? You’re gonna be around and help us? Take her to a doctor’s appointment or for a stroll around the block?” When you saw him looking down at his shoes, you couldn’t help but snort. “Thought so,” you said.

“I’ll better get going. If you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

Months flew by, but Simon barely noticed. He was on a mission again far from home, risking his life as usual. You never called and he didn’t force it. He accepted that he would have to live with the guilt of making this happen. Since you didn’t want to accept child support, he opened a bank account where he stored that money, hoping that one day he could give it to you or his daughter when she became old enough.

One day he checked your social media accounts like he had done a few times before, just to see how you were. This is when he saw the post in which you announced the arrival of your baby girl. He didn’t make a big deal out of it at first. She was born and she would probably ask about her father one day. If he was still alive then, he would gladly give her a toned down explanation. If not… Well, he left everything to her in his will.

Eventually he began to save the photos of his daughter and he often found himself looking at them. She was adorable, some of her features resembling his own. Her big brown eyes were definitely his; the color and the shape were both so familiar to him.

No one from the team knew about this part of his life. He had never told anyone, because why would he? They were close, they were his brothers, but you and your daughter were carefully guarded secrets in his life. Simon knew the real reason why he never talked about you; he was afraid of the judgmental looks and words.

Two months later, when he entered his apartment again after another round of deployment, Simon didn't really know what to do with himself. He ended up looking at his daughter's photos more and more often and eventually he made up his mind to give her a visit. It had absolutely nothing to do with you. He was doing this for the little girl.

You weren't welcoming but, once again, he couldn't blame you. “I just want to see my daughter,” he said softly, hoping the two of you could avoid fighting.

For long moments you were cautiously watching him, as if you were trying to decide if he could be trusted or not. But then your eyes fell on the big teddy bear he was holding with one hand and you let out a sigh of defeat.

On the way to the nursery, you didn't talk at all. The silence didn't bother him, but still he would have appreciated some words about the little girl he was about to meet. Was he allowed to pick her up? Did she like to be held? How was she? Did she have stomach ache often? Were she teething?

“Be quick,” you warned him when you stopped by her crib.

Simon let out a sigh. “Come on, don't be like that.”

You just rolled your eyes at him before taking a step back to lean your shoulder against the doorframe, arms folded over your chest, eyes watching his every move like a hawk. He found it a little too much, he hated that you didn't trust him. Sure, he hadn't given you many reasons to trust him, but for the sake of your daughter you should have tried.

With a sigh, he rested an elbow on the side of the crib and reached out to touch the baby as gently as he could with his other hand. His own flesh and blood. It was amazing, really. Without asking for permission, he picked her up and couldn't help but smile when the baby smiled at him.

Now that he was holding her close to his body, placing soft kisses on her head every so often, Simon couldn't deny that he already loved his daughter. There was an invisible string between them, something that brought her closer to him that anyone has ever been.

The baby giggled suddenly and it brought an even wider smile to Simon’s face. He could only hope you would let him see her as often as he could visit, but something told him it wouldn't be easy to convince you.

“She likes you,” you suddenly noted.

He put down the little girl then turned to you. “The feeling's mutual.” A faint smile appeared on your lips. “Can I see her some other time?” You nodded. “Thank you. If I can help with anything, just give me a call or send a message. I'll get back to you as soon as I can,” he offered.

You been to walk out of the room and he quietly followed you, waiting for you to say something. He didn't really know what he was expecting to hear, but he had a feeling you were holding back something. And sure enough, after a few minutes of silence you began to talk, scolding him for not even bothering to send at least a text to ask about her before suddenly showing up.

“I'm sorry. I didn't think you'd read them.”

“I'm mad at you, that's true,” you agreed.

Simon leaned against the doorframe as he watched you pace in the living room like a caged animal. He remembered those nights he had spent thinking about on deployment, the moment he saw that photo of you, and he realized that maybe he was missing you.

But how could he miss someone he didn't even love? Or had he developed feelings for you, feelings he tried to hide even from himself? It was way too confusing for him, and he didn't like to be confused. It was a weakness on the field and in his civilian life.

“I should go. If you need anything–”

You came to a halt, turned to him and nodded. “I know where to find you. But can I ask you something?” Simon motioned you to go on. “Why now? Why did you become interested in her all of a sudden?”

He let out a thoughtful hum as he put his hand on the back of his neck. “I saw the photos, how much she looks like me, and… I don't know.” You took a few steps closer to him, but you still kept a comfortable distance. “I've been saving money for her. I want to give you access to that bank account.”

“I don't need your money,” you were quick to say.

“It's for her. Please, accept it.”

You became mad at him, accusing him of assuming you couldn't take care of your daughter you'd been raising on your own from day one. He knew there was no point in defending himself, you were too lost in the hate you felt for him. So he just waited there in silence, letting you finish your speech.

Then, the moment you seemingly finished, he closed the gap between the two of you. He didn't know what he was doing, he just followed his instinct when he leaned down and kissed you. This was probably the first time he truly enjoyed kissing you, and it helped a lot that you were quick to return it.

Maybe this was why he wanted to come here today. To fix things. To try to get a family he'd been craving ever since he lost his own.

(part three)

[mindblowing-33]

Let's learn! How can be Made $100,000 Per Month With Bots and Automation (You Can Too!)

[adrienneleclerc]

Surprise

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x Hispanic/Latina! Reader

Summary: Oscar surprises his girlfriend with a puppy after hearing some bad news

Warning: Spelling and grammatical errors

A/N: this is my first Oscar Piastri fanfic

Y/N moved to England from New York when she got accepted into Oxford. In one of her Oxford days, she met Oscar Piastri at a club in London, they have been dating ever since. Currently, Y/N has a paid internship with Stella McCartney but has weekends off to join Oscar if it’s close/reasonable. Y/N got home to their shared apartment and was putting her bag away when she got a phone call from her mom. She answered it.

“Hola mami, cómo estás?” Y/N asked. Hi mom, how are you

“No ando bien, princesa.” Her mom answered. I’m not doing well, princess

“Mami, que tienes, has estado llorando?” Y/N asked. What’s wrong, have you been crying?

“Ay mija, no sé cómo contarte pero Daisy murió.” Her mom said and Y/N covered her mouth to stop the sobs from coming out. She had tears on her eyes and she sat down on the couch. Oh honey, I don’t know how to tell you this but Daisy died

“No no no, no puede ser, les visité hace dos meses, Daisy estaba bien, estaba muy cariñosa conmigo, no puede estar muerta.” Y/N said. That can’t be, I visited you guys 2 months ago, Daisy was fine, she was very cuddly with me, she can’t be dead

“Lo siento, amor, pero Daisy ya estaba viejita, ha estado contigo desde que tenías 8 años.” Her mom said. I’m sorry, love, but sissy was old, she’s been with you since you were 8 years old

“Bueno, y cómo está papi?” Y/N asked. Alright then, how’s dad?

“Igual que yo. Luego te hablo, amor, me tengo que ir a dormir, bye.” Her mom said hanging up the phone and that’s when Y/N let herself sob into one of the couch pillows. She didn’t even noticed Oscar coming in. Just like me. I’ll talk to you soon, love, I have to go to sleep

“Hey, darling, I brought back your favorite takeout.” Oscar said leaving the bag of food on the kitchen counter but he noticed Y/N was crying. “Hey, feeling, what happened?” Oscar said sitting next to Y/N on the couch. Y/N picked her head up and wiped her years before looking at Oscar.

“My childhood dog died.” Y/N said, her voice raw from crying.

“Daisy? It was a yorkie, right?” Oscar asked, remembering visiting her parents during his winter break and the photos she has shown him.

“Yes, she was so cute, I loved her so much, she would follow me everywhere and she was the best part when I would visit my parents back home.” Y/N said, she started tearing up again so Oscar hugged her, rubbing her back

“Let it out, sweetheart, you’ll be okay, I know you will.” Oscar said.

The past few days, Y/N has been kind of out of it. Yes, she would go to work and do really well but it was like she was on autopilot. She would make food for her and Oscar, eat, then rot in bed until she had to do something. Oscar couldn’t stand seeing her like this, especially know he has a triple header, meaning he’ll be leaving her alone for 3 weeks.

“Darling, are you sure you can’t use your vacation days to come with me?” Oscar asked. “How about I pay for your tickets to come Saturday and Sunday?”

“Oscar, that’s too much money, I’ll probably only go to the Silverstone track since it’s easier.” Y/N said. “I’ll be fine, I promise”

“I want you, no, I NEED you to call me everyday, before you go to work, when you come home, before you go to sleep, and any time in between.” Oscar said.

“You’re insane, but I love you so much, tiburóncin.” Y/N said, kissing him.

“I love you too.” Oscar said, kissing her back

Oscar was on the plane with Lando and he knew something was wrong.

“What happened, mate?” Lando asked

“Nothing, just Y/N.” Oscar answered

“Ah, trouble in paradise?” Lando asked

“No, her dog died.” Oscar said

“Aw, poor Y/N. Wait, you had a dog this whole time and I never saw it?” Lando asked

“No, you muppet, her childhood dog died.” Oscar said.

“Oh…so how’s Y/N taking it?” Lando asked

“Not well. She just works, eats, and sleeps, as soon as she comes home from work, she makes food and goes lay down, she doesn’t eat until later. I’m worried about her.” Oscar said.

“But it’s only been a few days, I’m sure she’ll get better.” Lando said.

“What if I got her another dog?” Oscar asked

“Aw, you’re such a romantic, Osc.” Lando teased.

“Shut up.” Oscar said.

“Well do you know what kind of dog she likes?” Lando asked

“Well Daisy was a yorkie, I know she likes them, but there’s another breed of dog she likes. What breed is Lady from Lady and the Tramp?” Oscar asked.

“It’s a cavalier King Charles spaniel.” Lando answered and Oscar stared at him. “What? I know my dog breeds.”

“I’ll start looking for places when we land.” Oscar said.

While they were in Spain, Oscar was calling pet stores and breeders he found online from Spain, Austria, and England but there was no luck.

“You found your girlfriend’s dream dog yet?” Lando asked, unpacking his luggage.

“No, all the stores I found online don’t have that breed of dog, they don’t even have yorkies, aren’t they supposed to be a popular breed?” Oscar asked

“Exactly, it’s a popular breed, they get bought quickly.” Lando said.

“Ugh, it’s no use, and no one I know has spaniel puppies.” Oscar said, sighing. Suddenly he remembered his neighbor mentioning something about her dog giving birth so he called her.

“Hello, Areida, how is your dog?” Oscar asked.

“Hey Oscar, Polly is fine, I’m just having trouble rehoming her puppies.” Areida said.

“I was actually wondering if I could have one, they’re the King Charles dog, right?” Oscar asked.

“Yes, they are, and I would gladly, give you one, come over when you’re back in Woking so you could pick out a dog.” Areida said

“Thank you so much!”

“No problem.” Areida hung up and Oscar was smiling.

“Im guessing you have a puppy.” Lando said.

“I have a puppy!” Oscar says with his hands in the air in celebration.

During the triple header, Oscar has been researching about the dog breed and how to socialize puppies since he has never had a pet of his own. He has also been talking to Areida the puppies, how far along are they, if there was a Ruby colored one, the works. Now it was time for the silverstone Grand Prix, despite it being an hour and a half away from their apartment in Woking, Y/N managed to drive all the way there to support her boyfriend. Of course, the distance was nothing for the American girl. So Y/N attended FP3, qualifying, and of course the Grand Prix, after the race, Y/N drove Oscar back home with her. Well, Oscar drove, it was a rule that she’ll always be passenger princess as long as he’s around.

“How’re you holding up, darling?” Oscar asked

“I feel better, I talked to my mom, she’s doing alright, same with my dad, my brother is better too.” Y/N responded.

“That’s good, have you been getting some sun?” Oscar asked.

“Tiburóncin, it’s England,.” Y/N answered and Oscar laughed “but yes, I’ve been going outside.”

The car ride was full of conversation but Y/N slept the last half hour of the car ride. They entered the apartment and had a lovely dinner together. The next day is where Oscar’s plan begins now that Y/N was at work. He called Areida during his workout to see when it’s a good time to pick up the puppy and she said that 12 should be good. After his workout, he showered, and as soon as it hit 12, he knocked on Areida’s door.

“Oscar, who knew you were so punctual. Come in, the puppies are in the living room.” Areida said. Oscar walked into the apartment and spotted the doggy gate caging 5 little cavalier King Charles spaniel puppies. Oscar cooed at the sight of them

They are adorable, I don’t know how you’re having trouble rehoming them.” Oscar said, he spotted the Ruby colored puppy, she looked so small. “Is that’s the youngest one?”

“Yeah, she’s the runt. And I’m picky with the selection process, okay? I’m not giving these puppies away to parents who want them as gifts for their children, a lot of dogs end up in shelters that way.” Areida said.

“That’s true. Can i pick her up?” Oscar asked.

“If she’s the one you’re taking, yes.” Areida said. Oscar carefully picked up the Ruby runt, stroking her fur and she leaned into his touch.

“Hello, Lady, You’re a surprise for my girlfriend.” Oscar said.

“Do you have everything you need?” Areida asked.

“I looked up a lot about this breed, I ordered all the stuff, I’m just going to pick it up.” Oscar said.

“Alright, i trust you.” Areida said.

“Do I pay you?” Oscar asked.

“I believe two months rent is fair considering your job.” Areida said. Oscar playfully rolled his eyes.

“Consider your rent paid.” Oscar said. He left Areida’s apartment to go to his car down in the garage.

He had Lady in his lap the entire drive, took about 15 minutes to go to the pet store and pick up everything, he set up her dog bed in the passenger seat so she can ride comfortably, he has her collar that he had made to be an exact replica like the collar in the movie, starter chew toys (like on of each kind to see what toys Lady likes), pee pads, leash and harness, and of course her food and water bowl and actual food. He made it to the apartment and set up everything. Since Lady is not vaccinated, she’s on the couch while Oscar vacuums and mops the floor. When he’s done, he sets Lady on the floor along with the lee pads so she can get acclimated with her new environment. Lady is smelling everything, wagging her tail, she looks very happy. She stopped to play with one of her toys. But he noticed Lady’s tail wagging even more and that’s when he heard the keys, Y/N is coming. The door opened and the first thing Y/N sees is a little fluffy thing walking up to her. Y/N coos and starts petting her.

“Oh hello, pero que cosa tan linda, are we pet sitting for Areida?” Y/N asked.

“No, actually, this is Lady, your new puppy.” Oscar said. Y/N stood up and hugged Oscar.

“I can’t believe it, she’s so cute, why did you get her?” Y/N asked.

“Well i couldn’t stand seeing my girl so upset and I remembered that you told me you always wanted a dog like Lady and now you have your very own Lady.” Oscar said, picking Lady up to make a point.

“You are the best boyfriend ever, I love you.” Y/N said, kissing him. “Aw, you’re going to be more spoiled than a Beverly Hills Chihuahua, let me tell you.” Y/N said, petting Lady and letting her lick her fingers. “How old is she?”

“About 9 weeks. We still have to get her vaccinated so for the mean time, we gotta carry her outside.” Oscar said,

“That’s fine by me, that way she’ll get used to everything.” Y/N said and Oscar out Laday down. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too.” Oscar said, kissing her.

Liked by yourusername and 752,917 others

oscarpiastri welcome the newest member of our little family, Lady.

View 38,928 comments

yourusername she’s absolutely adorable! I love her so much, thank you, tiburóncin 😘

charlesleclerc if you lived in Monaco, we could have play dates

landonorris just like the movie

logansargeant so cute! I gotta meet her, man

user37 sorry, Leo Leclerc, but Lady Piastri has stolen my heart 😍😍

The End

Hope y’all liked it! Now that I have published a Lando Norris fanfic, a Logan Sargeant fic, and now an Oscar Piastri fic, do y’all like them enough for me to write more?

[marvelfilth]

Angel (18+)

Pairing: stripper!Tara Carpenter x f! lawyer!reader

Warnings: no ghostface AU, Tara is 21, R is 27, smut, lap dance, pole dance, alcohol consumption, tipsy driving (pls don't do that), fingering, a bit of degradation and praise

Summary: You need to unwind. Angel gives you more than you could have ever asked for.

Masterlist

You've had a bad month. Scratch that, you've had the worst month of your career. You've lost one of your loyal clients to a rival and your boss chewed you out over it, and, to top it off, you've lost a case you've been working on for the past four months.

You blink back the exhaustion, leaning back on the railing of your office balcony. You've been nursing your whiskey for the past hour, hoping it'll chase away your gnawing thoughts, but to no avail, you're still deep in your head, rethinking every decision that led you to this.

You check your wrist watch, the platinum glistening in the city lights, and decide to finally head home. You finally relax once you're in your car, putting the key in the ignition and driving off, leaving the day behind. You take a familiar route, driving almost on autopilot and humming along to the song on the radio, fingers drumming on the wheel.

You're almost home when you change your mind and make a sharp turn on the next intersection, heading to a place you haven't been to in months.

Two men in the front greet you with identical nods, holding the door open for you, sensual music spilling into the bustling street. Your eyes zero in on the bar, not paying any attention to the stage and the dancers, happy to see a familiar face handling alcohol tonight.

"Tough day?" Amber asks with a sympathetic smile, placing a full glass in front of you.

"Tough month," you sigh, not in the mood for a conversation.

She offers one more smile before turning to another guest, sensing your desire to be left alone. Her eyes take on a new glint, lips slightly pursed in a cute pout as she talks to a clean shaved man. You scoff in your drink and shake your head, ignoring the glare she sends you.

Leaning back against the bar you settle to simply people watch for some time, maybe get a dance or two from a pretty woman.

"You should ask for Angel," Amber says, wiping the counter. You look at her in question, your glass stopping midway to your mouth. "She's new, but she's good. You could use some unwinding and she's the best at it, trust me."

You nod slowly and ask for a refill before leaving her a tip and walking off to a secluded booth in the back of the club, settling back on the couch and trying to find a new face in the sea of dancers you already know well. Out of the corner of your eye you see Felicity, a fiery redhead with no filter. She effortlessly glides on the dancefloor in her nine inch heels, red lingerie catching eyes of gaping men with pockets full of cash. She bends in a sensual move, her thong granting a perfect view of her round ass. You hum when money starts falling in waves, making the floor disappear. She deserves that and more.

She catches your eye, brow raising suggestively, to which you shake your head no.

"Waiting for someone?" A voice whispers right in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. Your head turns to be met with the eyes of a stranger inches away from your own, lips painted blood red and pulled into a smirk.

You swallow, feeling the swell of her breasts against your arm that's resting on the back of the couch, and shake your head tersely, not trusting your voice just yet. She bites her lower lip and pulls away to slowly walk around the couch, making sure to show off her assets.

Almost all of her body is bare, her lacy push up bra making her breasts look good enough to throw handfuls of cash at her feet. Your gaze is immediately drawn to the full globes, then lowers to a dark red triangle of fabric between her legs held by a thin string. She takes her sweet time in caging you against the leather cushions, draping herself over your lap, hands settling on your shoulders.

You take this opportunity to study her features: the slope of her small nose; the freckles dusted all over her upper cheeks; her dark and inviting eyes, eagerly drinking you up with the same vigor; her full lips, painted red and waiting to be claimed.

She takes your whiskey and sips, expertly masking the distaste behind an alluring smile, but you still catch the way her eyes momentarily squeeze in a fleeting grimace, making you bite back a chuckle.

"I'm Angel. What's your name?" She purrs, hips moving to the beat as she plays with the hair at the nape of your neck. You see some men glare at you with jealousy, their jaws grinding. Angel must be fairly popular to grant a reaction like that.

"Does it matter?" You husk, struggling to keep your hands to yourself.

"Mysterious, huh?" She chuckles, arching against your chest, her barely covered breasts almost spilling out right in your face, hips moving in circles against your crotch. "I like that."

You hum, settling back to watch her flexible body roll against your slowly relaxing one, her lower lip pulled between pearly white teeth.

"There you go," she whispers, sliding her palm down your chest, her other hand tangling in your hair, nails scratching your scalp. It feels so good you almost purr. "Tell me what got you so wound up."

You sigh and take another sip of your drink before answering. "Lost my top client."

She hums, her torso moving in a slow hypnotic circle, before leaning back into you to whisper right in your ear. "Their loss."

She pulls back to look you in the eye, the space between you almost crackling with tension.

"Hey Angel," one of the men that's been glaring at you calls out, waving a couple of twenty dollar bills in the air. "Come give me a dance."

She doesn't even look in his direction, but you silently reach for your wallet, taking out three hundred dollar bills and pushing them under the string of her thong. "Stay."

Her eyes widen and she bites her lip before nodding. She throws her head back, hands leaving your shoulder to slide up her waist to cup her breasts, pushing them together inches away from your face. Your heart hammers in your chest, and you have to grip your thighs to keep yourself from touching her. She rises on her knees and changes the position, her back now to your front, ass snugly against your crotch.

You finish your whiskey in one gulp, your breath hitching. Her wavy hair gets in your face and you breathe in the enticing scent of her perfume mixed with the essence of her. She turns her head, looking at you with half lidded eyes. "You like that?"

"I do," you reply, noting the slight blush rising on her cheeks.

"Want to move somewhere private?" She asks, her eager tone cracking the unbothered facade she's been putting on.

You nod and follow her to the other side of the club, Amber sending you thumbs up from behind the bar before going back to flirting with another drunk man, crisp bills filling her pockets.

You're led to a dark hallway that leads to private rooms, anticipation buzzing under your skin. She nods at the security guard, the man looking you up and down before he lets you through. She locks the door and you wander deeper into the room, taking a seat on the velvety couch.

Sensual music starts spilling from the speakers before she turns sharply, a devilish smirk on her lips. She saunters to the pole, hips swaying in tune with the music, eyes never leaving yours as she hooks her leg over the metal and twirls. She closes her eyes, losing herself in the dance, and grips the pole before bending, back arched, the swell of her ass right in front of your face.

You exhale, nearly biting down on your knuckles from the need to turn her around and fuck her right on the floor. "Angel," you breathe out. She faces you and drops to her knees, legs spread as her hips move up and down, arms over her head as she grips the pole. "Yes?"

You pat your lap and without a moment of hesitation she climbs on top of your thighs, taking off her bra. You bite back a moan when her breasts spill out, pinkish nipples begging for your mouth. She takes hold of your neck, her forehead pressed against yours as she rocks her hips on your lap, her breathing labored. She weaves languidly against your tense torso, her lips brushing against your cheek before she pulls away to settle her hands on your chest, nails scratching your white shirt.

"Fuck," you close your eyes, enjoy the press of lithe body, arousal coursing through your veins. She hums, her center flush against your thigh and you feel her wetness smear on the fabric of your slacks. Your fingers clench uselessly at your sides. "You're enjoying this," you state, searching her face for an answer.

"More than you can imagine," she whispers, grinding down on your thigh with intent. Her nipples brush against your chest and she moans quietly, repeating the motion. You unconsciously thrust up, your pelvis connecting with her heat just as she is rolling down, sending pleasure through her body. She grabs your shoulders and your eyes lock. You thrust again, intentionally this time, your palms planted firmly on the couch to add force. Her hips rock, her needy moans filling your ears.

You can't take your eyes off her.

Fuck that, you think, before planting your hands on her hips, directing her movements, and pulling her into a feverish kiss. Her lips are impossibly soft, and her tongue tastes like whiskey and some fruity cocktail she's probably had earlier. Your hands move from her hips to her breasts, squeezing.

"Yes," she moans, greedily pushing against you. "More, please."

You hesitate only for a moment before lowering your mouth to her nipple, sucking it in with hunger you didn't know you possessed. She bites on her knuckles, hiding a loud moan from the guards behind the door. Your fingers itch with the need to tear off her thong and plunge deep into her soaking pussy, claiming the most vulnerable part of the petite brunette.

"How does that feel?" Your teeth graze against the underside of her breast before you take the other nipple in your mouth, tongue sliding on the hardened nub.

"Like I'm about to come," she whimpers, messily humping on your thigh. "Need you inside," she pleads, taking hold of your hand.

You follow her lead, your fingers easily pushing her thong aside and dipping between her slick folds, strands of wetness clinging to your digits. She buckles against your hand in search of friction, and you teasingly circle her clit, pulling a delicious moan out of her lips. "Like that?" You tease, even though you're as affected as she is.

"Yes- fuck, just like that," she whimpers.

"What about the rules, Angel? You gonna tell your boss about this?"

She shakes her head. "No, I promise. Fuck the rules." She desperately clings to your wrist, pressing your palm against her heat.

It's all you need to finally thrust your fingers inside her cunt. She cries out, biting your shoulder to hide the sound, and starts moving her hips up and down, meeting your fingers halfway.

"Such a bad girl you are, Angel. Riding a stranger like a slut," you grunt, fastening your pace. Filthy sounds fill the room as your fingers keep disappearing in her pussy, bringing her closer to the edge. Suddenly, a misplaced spark of jealousy ignites something deep inside your chest. "Do you do this with everyone, Angel? Do you spread your legs for strangers every night?"

"No," she gasps, tilting your face up and bringing you in for a kiss. "Just you," she moans against your lips, "only you."

The fire inside your chest burns. "Good."

Her walls clench around you, mouth wide open as she moans loudly. You force her mouth shut, pressing your palm against her lips, her eyes widening before they roll to the back of her head. Your thumb slides on her clit in tight circles, fingers curling to touch her sweet spot. She bites down on your knuckles, desperately chasing her orgasm, arousal dripping down her thighs. You add a third finger, stretching her tight pussy, and spread them inside.

"Come for me, Angel," you rasp, pushing deep inside. She cries out, squeezing around your fingers as she comes. She curls into you, hiding her face in the slope of your neck. "Good girl," you praise, kissing her temple, your fingers buried inside her wet heat.

There's a loud knock and a gruff voice sounds from behind the door. "Everything alright, Angel?"

She sits up, eyes wide and alert, and looks at the clock near the door. Your private session ended ten minutes ago.

"I- I have to go," she scurries away, putting on her bra on her way to the door.

"Wait," you call out, catching her wrist before she could touch the handle. "Stay, please."

Her eyes flicker to your lips before she throws herself at you, hands around your waist, kissing you with fervor. You press her against the door, trailing kisses all over her neck, wishing you could leave marks for her to remember you by.

There's another knock and a threat to break down the door. Angel pulls away with one last peck before disappearing behind the door.

The rest of the week goes better after that night. You feel like the burden that's been sitting on your shoulders got smaller, granting you more hours of sleep and allowing you to look your boss in the eye without feeling inferior. You can't help but think back on the girl that so easily brought this change on you. Sometimes when you're caught up in paperwork in the late hours of night you catch yourself wishing you were back in that private room, looking at her instead of some boring corporate nonsense. Your fingers squeeze around the pen with need to touch her again, to unravel her, to savor her taste.

On a Friday night you decide to leave the office early and head to the club, but a phone call stops you in your tracks.

"Hey, hope I'm not interrupting."

You smile, always happy to hear from your friend. "You're not, I'm… heading home early."

"Great. Perfect, actually. I know it's a bit last minute, but I was wondering if you'd like to come over for dinner tonight? I'm making your favorite." Sam asks, and you can hear the sound of pans hitting the stove in the background.

"What's the catch, Carpenter?"

She groans, and you can almost see her slouch against the counter. "I'm not sure if I mentioned it, but Tara is studying to be a lawyer, and I thought maybe you could give her some pointers over dinner?"

You blink, surprised by the question. In two years of your friendship with Sam you've never met her younger sister. Even though they're living together, she's never home when you're over, working double shifts to afford tuition, adamantly refusing Sam's offers to help. She likes to complain about it from time to time, but you can see she's proud of the younger girl.

Angel will be there tomorrow, and you're actually excited to finally meet Tara. It doesn't take long for you to decide which way to go. You make a quick stop at a grocery store on your way there, buying Sam's favorite beer and a bottle of wine, thinking about offering her sister an internship. If she's even half as brilliant as Sam you want her on your team once she graduates.

When you finally knock on the door, expecting to see Sam on the other side, you feel wind get knocked out of you when the woman you've been thinking about since you left the club opens it.

"... Angel?"

_______________

Thoughts?

[olsenmyolsen]

imgonnagetyouback

master list . dark master list

If I said best song on TTPD, then what???

MCU (Female Reader X Wanda Maximoff)

Summary: You and Wanda Maximoff used to be something, but now that you're with Natasha Romanoff, Wanda can't stand by and let it happen.

Word Count: 1.4K

Content: Pissed Off Wanda, Manipulation, Cheating(?)

Wanda hated seeing you with Natasha.

She hated how the redhead whispered sweet nothings into your ear as you cooked dinner. She hated seeing how Natasha's arms held you tight after a mission. Wanda mostly hated how she looked at you. When Wanda truly looked at you. Wanda could see the pain hidden behind the glare.

Wanda hates how you treated her and how she treated you in return.

On top of that, she regrets calling it off too early. But now she hates the idea of you with someone else.

The images of you and Natasha are driving her crazy.

So, as she stands in front of her mirror in a white shirt and a lilac short skirt that fits her like skin, she smiles.

She's gonna get you back.

You're no better than a man when you see the way Wanda glides into the kitchen for breakfast. The body-hugging skirt leaves little to the imagination while making your mouth dry.

Wanda feels your gaze on her as she keeps her back to you. Using her magic to grab a bowl and spoon for cereal, keeping a laugh inside as she hears your thoughts.

You look away when she turns around but look right back up with a spoon clatters against the hardwood. You go red when you see Wanda bent over, picking up the spoon.

The color of her panties matches the skirt.

"Hey!" Natasha's voice makes you jump as she enters the kitchen with a smile. Wanda finishes gathering her cereal in the meantime. She knows this part of her plan worked just by how hard you're trying to keep your focus on Natasha and not Wanda and her body. "You woke up before me. That never happens!" Natasha makes a casual joke that you give a half-hearted chuckle at. "Yeah, just wanted an early start today, I guess."

Wanda takes one last look at you before she leaves the room. Your eyes catch her green ones, and you just about stop breathing when she winks at you.

"You're mine."

The following week, Stark is throwing a party for god knows what the occasion was, but it doesn't matter. You need something like this for one reason or another.

(Wanda and Wanda.)

So, as you walk with your arms linked with Natasha's, you find all eyes on the two of you. Natasha is dressed in a strapless thigh-high slit silver dress. You opted for an all-black tux that Natasha couldn't wait to tear off you later.

And you with her dress.

You smiled and kissed her cheek while she made small talk with colleagues, and you felt the burn of green eyes on you.

Wanda was stewing across the party, in a tight black dress that complimented your tux better than Natasha did. You and Natasha looked stunning.

She hated it.

So, with her mind on autopilot, Wanda downed the remainder of her glass and kept her burning desire trained on you.

After days of teasing, Wanda didn't feel close to accomplishing her goal. So, with misguided judgment, she rolled her tongue over her lips and found herself standing in the garage.

A golf club in her hand.

Luxury cars that Tony spent too much money on never to drive were the first pieces of machinery Wanda saw before she walked further and further down that aisle.

A loud click bounced off the walls with every step of her heels. Until. Wanda finally stopped in front of your bike.

Wanda remembers times when you'd spend all day with this stupid junk—fixing it up and taking it for a spin, being too loud and careless. God, Wanda hated it. But she also loved it because it made you happy.

But Wanda did at some point, too.

A memory of her arms wrapped around you while you sped around the compound plays out.

Wanda unconsciously screams and takes a swing, hitting the headlight right in the middle of the bike. Glass spraying around her. With a gasp, Wanda takes a step back, surprised by her actions, before she grips the club harder and swings for the fences.

39 times.

Wanda had a date a few weeks after Starks party. Your bike was totaled, and Wanda had another date.

You couldn't fucking believe it.

You felt like you had been going crazy with Wanda lately. She was gone one minute and was always around the next, in short skirts or revealing tops. Wanda was there. She acted friendly, and then, in a second, she couldn't stand you.

You couldn't make heads or tails of what was happening.

Was she getting me back?

One way or another?

You sighed as you sat down on your bed at the compound. Natasha was gone on a mission, and even if you wanted to talk to her, you couldn't really do it about Wanda.

You would be lying if you said you didn't miss Wanda at times when Natasha wouldn't get your jokes or how her and Wanda's idea of nights in were different.

On top of that, you missed Wanda's touch. You hate to say it, but you miss feeling her skin under your hand or hearing her whispered sighs escape through her lips.

You groan and lift up from the bed. You head down to the gym to distract yourself. It's empty when you get there and by the time you're finishing up. Yet, with your headphones in and your back to the door. You don't hear Wanda enter the room.

Wanda had listened to your thoughts repeatedly for the last two hours. She had smiled wide and touched herself briefly as your frustrated moans left you. She knew how close she was to getting you back.

So, as you hummed to your music, Wanda gently walked towards you.

You stopped and turned around when red magic surrounded the equipment you were using. "Wanda?" You questioned as you paused your music. She was wearing a black sports bra and bike shorts.

But god, did they stick to her like glue.

"Hi Y/n." Wanda moved closer. "What are you doing here?" You asked after swallowing your nerves and trying to keep your eyes from roaming her body. "Just thought I'd get a workout in before my date," Wanda said with a wide smile that upset you. Wanda's words were making you think twice about what happened between the two of you.

But one thing was for certain.

Her date could never do the things I could.

Wanda raised an eyebrow at that and stepped closer to you. "You've told your friends you hate me, but you love me just the same." You remained stoic even if your lips moved slightly. "Come on. Y/n.." Wanda practically moaned as she stepped closer again with a smirk. Bringing her hand up to your body and dragging her index finger from your chin to your breast.

Only stopping when you grabbed her.

"We tried the whole bygones will be bygones thing," Wanda said as she lifted her eyes from your sweaty and toned body to your beautiful eyes. Eyes she missed, looking at her with softness and lust. "I've tried harder than you." You said, making Wanda roll her eyes.

She was playing a game.

"I don't see what if done wrong," Wanda questioned. "I see the whispers in your eyes, baby. You want me." You dropped Wanda's hand and shook your head. Your thoughts descending into actions of you taking Wanda right here and now mixed with Natasha and her broken heart. "You're poison." You speak with your face inches from Wanda's. "I'm poison either way." Wanda's words cut through you easily.

She'll always be around whether she taints your thoughts and actions or keeps to herself. Wanda will always be there.

"You have someone." You say, but Wanda laughs. "You have someone, too."

You should leave, but you can't bring yourself to do it.

Wanda smiles before she pulls you forward and collides your lips with hers. A simple thing turns into a heated make-out session that leaves both breathless.

And yet Wanda pushes you away when you reach for her shorts. "I need to get started on my workout." She says with a breath between each third word. You shake your head and try again, but Wanda stops you. "Oh, honey..." Wanda coos. "You didn't think it would be that easy. Did you?" You stare at Wanda as she clicks her tongue. "I always have the upper hand, Y/n."

Wanda then looks outside as a Quinjet flies by. You're too busy scanning Wanda's face.

"Looks like she's home," Wanda says as she turns back to you. "And don't worry, I won't say anything." Wanda shrugs before turning away, leaving you standing still as your fingers touch your lips. Still a taste of Wanda. "Oh, and Y/n."

You pull your eyes to her.

"I'm gonna get you back."

dividers by @/benkeibear

[lunarmoves]

you were lost in this stupidly large facility with nothing but a fucking shovel for defense.

you could feel the sweat building up on your palms underneath your black gloves as they gripped tightly onto the shovel's handle. feel the way your baby hairs stuck to the back of your neck and the way your skin crawled like there were hundreds of insects burrowed underneath it. you swallowed heavily and blinked widely in a vain attempt to see through the stifling darkness that wrapped around you in an endless blanket.

you should've never taken this job. your flashlight had ran out of power a while ago to your chagrin. the company couldn't even have been assed to give your team decent fucking supplies for your first assignment and you were all stuck with them until you raised enough money to purchase better ones. you could feel your resolve crumbling the longer you crept your way through what seemed like an infinite loop of concrete rooms. listening raptly for the sound of foreign footsteps trailing after you.

silence, thick and foreboding. then, quiet—so quiet it was almost nonexistent—there was the soft chime of a bell.

fuck, it was still following you.

you glanced quickly over your shoulder. you couldn't make anything out through your suit's mask. you knew, however, that it was only an illusion of solitude.

in this abandoned, alien facility, you were anything but alone.

you clenched your jaw and pressed forward, your steps light and careful. god forbid you stepped on a landmine and blew your legs clean off. or on some random toy and it made enough noise to attract another one of those stupid, deadly creatures. it was difficult though, so fucking difficult. you were running on pure luck, but even then, you weren't entirely sure how long it would last. the oppressive vantablack around you was starting to make you feel hopeless.

you glanced at the time through your suit's h.u.d. 10:24 p.m. you took in a deep breath and did your best to settle the way your heart pounded in your chest. at midnight, the ship's autopilot would force it to leave, regardless of whether you were on it or not. you wondered if the rest of your team was in the building looking for you, or if they thought you were already dead.

you hadn't been notified of the ship leaving yet, though, so you were holding on by a sliver.

another soft chime sounded from behind you. your lips trembled slightly. you pressed them together for a moment and slowly made your way around a corner. another dark hallway. you could barely make out the gleam of steam pipes along the walls. you shifted the shovel in your hand, your steps feather light as you walked with your knees slightly bent.

whatever was following closely behind you had been doing so for the last hour—silent enough that no matter how much you strained your ears or stilled your breaths, you couldn't hear anything apart from the occasional jingle. it was anyone's guess what creature it was that resided in this hellish building. you certainly didn't remember reading about anything capable of making bell sounds in the database.

god, you were going to fucking die in here, weren't you? everything looked the same and you weren't sure when the alien behind you would attack once it got tired of following you. biting your lip, you focused on what was in front of you for now. falling into despair would only make you feel worse.

another corner. there was the gleam of a door to your right. your heart seemed to leap in your chest and you quickly darted over to it so you could wrench it open. it was still dark, but as you stepped forward, you heard your boots land on metal that echoed around the room. you walked forward and realized that there was light—dim, extremely dim light—coming from above. barely illuminating a grated staircase. that was good—stairs were good! you were making progress!

you beelined straight for the upwards staircase, your steps like a metronome as you steadily climbed them. clang clang clang clang. your surroundings got brighter the higher you went and you could feel a light sense of relief and elation begin to wash over you. freedom was at the tips of your fingers.

below you, there was a jingle. and you knew ignoring it was the move, but something in the back of your mind itched in morbid curiosity. a glance was all you needed to add its information to the database, now that you could see a bit better. it would be beneficial, in the long term. you bit at your lower lip and felt your steps slow down just a tad.

and then you looked down, like a fool.

on the staircase directly underneath you, there was a figure that blended into the shadows—a navy blue tinge to its body that was so dark it was nearly black. it was lanky and lithe, with uncanny elongated limbs attached to an almost emaciated body. your breathing cut out as your h.u.d. circled the being in red and updated the database automatically, but you barely registered anything.

the figure was looking right up at you. a wide smile leered at you with sharp, needle-like teeth and ruby-colored eyes that glowed like a warning sign.

yeah. no. fuck that.

you couldn't get out of there fast enough, darting the rest of the way up the stairs until you reached a landing with a door. you slammed it open, then closed it behind you, breathing harsh and heavy enough that it fogged up the inside of your mask. you didn't dare linger, squeezing your hands around your stupid shovel as you walked onward and quickly analyzed where you were.

more rooms. more corridors. you gritted your teeth. it was endless. your only consolation were the lights that were attached to the walls and ceilings—widely interspersed, but at least you could see. you listened carefully for any sounds of a door creaking open behind you, wondering if that thing was still shadowing you like some strange, gaunt ghost. nothing so far. maybe you could breathe a bit easier.

you checked the time again. 10:57 p.m. shit, shit. you were going to cut things close if you didn't get a move on. you started to lightly jog, panic creeping its way through your veins. you were so close, you were so close! all you had to do was find a fire exit or the main entrance and then you could run right for the ship.

you sped through another door, then down a long hallway. everything was so, so quiet. you didn't like it. didn't like how the very building seemed to be holding its breath. your eyes glanced around quickly in your haste and unease. where was the exit? you took a sharp turn around a corner. where was—?

you slammed into something. it was so abrupt and sudden and your heart jumped straight up into your ears as you yelped and threw yourself backwards. the contact was enough for you to feel something unnatural, feel the outwards push of a breath, and the vibration of a hum.

you swung the shovel up like you were about to bat a ball and froze like a deer in headlights. in front of you, blocking your path down the hall, was another creature. long and lanky like the one you'd caught a glimpse of before, except this one was colored gold. it was hunched over you, a wide smile with sharp teeth plastered to its circular face framed with sharp, triangular protrusions. glowing white eyes illuminated the space between your heads. you could just make out its ribs through its chest, and its limbs contorted oddly around you like it didn't know where to place them in the small space.

it felt like you'd been paralyzed, rooted as you were to the floor.

the creature wasn't doing anything. it just watched you with that unreadable grin. you blinked up at it, willing your racing heart to ease down as much as it could. there was a hotness that crawled up your chest and into your neck. was this how you were going to die? did you even want to try to defend yourself?

you eyed the sheer size of the thing before you—the corded muscles you could see under its stretched skin. you would not win.

it continued to watch you, head tilting slightly to the side. not a single sound came from it. maybe you could... retreat? you swallowed thickly, then took a small step back. when the creature didn't do anything, you took another step back. then another. it was starting to get easier for you to breathe.

but then, once you got a few feet away, the creature took a step forward. you jumped slightly and tightened your grip on the shovel. it took another step, reaching its elongated legs towards you in massive steps that nearly closed the meager distance you'd built immediately. you panicked and picked up the pace, glancing behind you intermittently to ensure you wouldn't run into a wall.

was this thing chasing you? it sure felt like it, as odd as it was. it didn't help the foreboding pit you could feel at the bottom of your gut or the way your hands shook in your helplessness. but it was all you could do at the moment. trapped in this odd walk as you backtracked down a hall and into a room that split into two paths.

shit, which way should you go? you looked back in front of you at the creature and saw it was leaning to the left slightly, like it was going to try to subtly crowd you into that direction. you took the right in an attempt to avoid it. maybe it was trying to trap you somewhere. you would not let yourself be outwitted by it, you were better than that, you hoped.

it was truly unnerving how silent the creature was as it followed you, not a single sound coming from its steps. no matter how small the rooms or hallways were for it, it seemed to be able to contort its body to fit and move smoothly through the cramped spaces. it was impressive, if not worrying.

you were running out of time, you realized in dismay as you tried desperately to escape from this thing's eyes. but it was rather persistent—just like the navy one you'd encountered. the way its gaze was unwaveringly plastered onto your own was... captivating in a way that was quite worrying. and it trailed after you through room after room, hallway after hallway with attempts to crowd you into certain paths that you managed to evade until you felt yourself run into something hard.

you jumped. you hadn't realized—! you glanced behind you before snapping your gaze back to the creature in case it lunged at you or something. then you did a double take. wait a second, you'd— you'd ran straight into a red door. the fire exit. you gawked at it, then spun back around to stare at the gold creature. it had stopped moving, lingering a small distance away.

it only seemed to smile wider at you, lips stretching to reveal black gums.

did it— did it somehow—

had you just been outsmarted by this thing? subtly manipulating your movements so that you would—

no. nope. not thinking about it. you were at the exit and you had five minutes to get back to the ship. you couldn't afford to linger, to rest. an anxious feeling skittered all over your body; you did your best to ignore it.

you spared the creature a final glance, hesitating for just a small moment.

"thank you." the words were quiet as they left your lips. its head cocked to the side. then, you shoved your way past the fire exit and into the fresh air of the outside world. ignoring the way it grinned after you, knowing.

behind you, a bell gave a quaint, dulcet chime. ringing in your ears until you finally made it back onto your ship, safe and sound.

[mothhball]

five-finger discount

Pairing | Neil Lewis x Reader

Warnings | 18+ SMUT, DUB-CON, fingering, p in v sex, unprotected sex, blackmail, sex on camera, brief edging, creampie, cheating, cursing, Moth pretends to know anything about movies

Summary | You’ve been trying to make easy money, but you’re not as subtle as you thought. Some lessons need to be learned the hard way.

Words | 4.4k

Notes | FINALLY DONE. and vaguely inspired by 70s porn haha

MINORS DNI

INT. GUMSHOE VIDEO – THRILLER AISLE – DAY

“No, it's not. That's not what she said. Someone is in trouble. Something bad is happening!” squawks a woman from the running TV in the background while your fingers trace over the backs of the VHS as you walk past the shelves.

1 PM on a Wednesday certainly is no rush hour at Gumshoe Video. Even the most annoying film bros don't come here at this time of day to flaunt their knowledge of the craft and subsequent absence of social skills. You're in the clear, pretending to deeply think about your choice in entertainment for the end of the day, even though that couldn't be further from the truth. Throwing a glance over your shoulder, you spot the business owner, entranced by the film that he put on to pass the time, and you can see his plush lips silently mouthing along to the dialog. Cute. And easy to trick.

It's not your first time here. No, you made sure to become familiar with the place over the course of months now, learning where each genre and title has been sorted into its rightful place.

Certain old VHS-tapes can sell for a small fortune online, and for every tape you rent, you take one for free with the plan of selling it to the highest bidder. Currently, you have a stack at home, waiting for you to finally stop procrastinating and open up that damn eBay account.

Your pinky catches on a specific tape. 'A History of Violence', currently estimated to lure an additional 199 bucks into your greedy bank account. Quietly, you pull out the film, leaving a gaping hole in the neatly sorted row as you slip it into your purse.

With nimble hands, you try to rearrange the tapes to make the missing VHS a little less obvious, but in your haste, a few of them escape your clammy grasp and clutter to the ground. A head of silky brunette hair whips around, and you're met with pretty blue eyes as the store owner turns to face you.

You let out a giggle, trying to sound as vapid and innocuous as possible. You’re in character now. The persona you chose? An unassuming, ditzy little thing that’s hot enough to distract him, but stupid enough as to not get suspected of any wrong-doings. You’d say you’re a good actress. A fantastic one, even.

"Sorry," you purr, batting your eyelashes at him. "I'm a little clumsy today." You're already bending over to pick up the tapes when he makes his way over to lend a helping hand, and you make sure to show off your cleavage in an intentionally accidental way. You know he’s into you. You’ve been seeing the heat in his gaze for weeks now, along with the occasional crack in his voice and an almost endearing desire to impress you. It’s his biggest weakness and the reason your plan has been working flawlessly until now.

"Hey, hey, no worries. Uh, gravity wins sometimes. Don't sweat it," he grins at you, brushing his fingers against yours as the two of you work together to put everything back into place.

"What exactly were you looking for anyway?" he suddenly asks, breaking your focus for a second.

"Uh, Moonstruck," you mutter, completely on autopilot. The store owner nods, pursing his lips as he mulls over your answer. You’re aware of your blunder before he even answers.

"Moonstruck? Then you're in the wrong section. You know, with how often you come here, I thought you got the hang of our layout by now." Fuck, he’s got you. Play dumb. Play dumb!

Your poker face almost cracks, but you keep your composure. Or at least you try to. "Huh? Oh - I... right. God, I'm just all over the place today." You giggle again, relieved by the way his grin seems to soften. Hook, line and sinker. He may think he’s detective Sam Spade from ‘The Maltese Falcon’, but you’re Brigid O’Shaughnessy. Or he’s Batman and you’re Catwoman. Or – well, it doesn’t matter. Baseline is, you’re snatching tapes right from underneath his nose while he’s too busy fantasizing about what’s underneath your clothes.

The store owner speaks up again, lazily rubbing the back of his neck as he leans against the shelf, and his free hand wanders and gestures around a bit as if he’s trying to figure out which pose would look the coolest and most effortless.

“Right. Actually, that wasn’t really fair of me.” You tilt your head at him, eyebrows furrowing ever so slightly which prompts him to elaborate. “Some of our tapes went missing. Y’know, some of the oldies and goldies? That’s why I didn’t stock Moonstruck this week.”

Your lips part in surprise, but all you can reply with is a soft ‘oh’. The store owner shrugs, leaning in towards you. There’s something conspiratory about his expression which makes your stomach churn a little. “Yeah. But I do still have it. It’s just in my office.”

There’s a beat of silence as you mull over the unspoken offer. Your plan is built on the one tape you always rent for cheap. No one would think you’re stealing if you’re actually paying for something, right? Despite this, you wonder if you should call it a day and head home with the stolen film hidden in your purse. Alibi be damned.

“I… That’s great. Uh, actually, I was just about to –“ he cuts you off with a casual wave of his hand, and the grin on his face widens once more.

“Don’t worry. I’ll even give you a discount. Just follow me.”

INT. GUMSHOE VIDEO – NEIL LEWIS’ PRIVATE OFFICE – DAY

The private office of Neil Lewis, cinephile and pop culture enthusiast, is decorated with a distinct Film Noir charm, lovingly empathized by leather chairs and a checkered floor. Not to mention the letters on the door. He calls himself a private investigator. A joking title that makes you palms sweat ever so slightly. You notice that he set up a small camera on his desk, but he brushes it off as a regular procedure.

"So... Moonstruck,” he starts, gesturing for you to take a seat. Which you do. “Great pick. Just curious - Why did you go for that one?" The question makes you pause for a second.

"The... the cover spoke to me,” you casually lie, trying to sound somewhat cute, but it doesn’t land. Neil’s expression quickly betrays his skepticism, and his lips part while his narrowed gaze wanders around the room for a minute. "Hm. And what about the other one?"

"What do you mean?" Play dumb, play dumb, play – but he’s not letting you off the hook so easily.

"The other tape."

Silence fills the office, and you swear the VHS in your purse is starting to burn a hole right where it’s settled in your lap.

"Which... other tape? I just picked out this one."

"Ohhh, right. Sorry. My bad. Just… Moonstruck." The way he’s saying this makes it seem like he enjoys the taste of the letters on his tongue. You nod, a little too eager to get this conversation over and done with.

"So you won’t mind me looking through your purse?" Neil leans forward in his seat, folding his hands on top of his desk. Your eyes briefly fall onto the little desk name plate that’s undoubtedly just made out of shiny, golden plastic. But it does the job. It intimidates you. At least to a certain degree.

“No,” you lie through your teeth, trying to shrug off the tension. “I… it’s certainly no problem, Mr. Lewis. None at all.”

Neil lets out an apathetic sigh as he rises from his seat, causing the leather to squeak. His steps seem a little too confident for a video rental owner as he moves around the desk to first walk over to the door and lock it. “Neil is fine. I’m not a big fan of… formalities,” he starts, coming up behind you to set his hands on your shoulders. His hands are gentle but firm, causing your body to warm right down to the deepest layers. To make his control over the situation even more apparent, he splays his hands, tracing your collarbone with his middle finger. It’s subtle enough that he could pass it off as a figment of your imagination if you should choose to speak up. But you don’t. You stay quiet, even as he leans down and you can hear the murmur of his voice right next to your ear.

“Open your purse.”

You bite your tongue, slowly opening your purse to find Cher’s face grinning back at you. It’s Moonstruck. In all of its romantic glory, and it makes both you and Neil freeze for a moment. You lick your dry lips, saying the first thing that comes to mind.

"That's mine."

"Yours?" You wouldn’t know, but his eyebrow twitches upward at your ridiculous claim.

"Yeah. A... personal copy." Great, now you’re doubling down.

"With my name on it?" Silence, yet again. You could basically hear the dramatic music that the producers of any reality TV shows use in the background of any tense scene. But this isn’t scripted. No, all of this is improvised.

"... what are the odds?" you croak, feeling how your throat goes dry in real time. Neil scoffs in reply, shaking his head, and his grip on your shoulders tightens a tad before he lets go entirely. His expression is stern as he steps in front of you, leaning against the desk and crossing his shapely arms over his chest. For a moment, he’s silent, letting his eyes wander all over your form in a slow, appreciative way that makes your palms get sweaty. “You do know I have to call the police, don’t you?”

“What?” Your breath hitches in your lungs, and you blink a few times, almost in an attempt to shake yourself out of this very strange dream. “This… this is just one tape. Isn’t this kind of excessive?”

“Yeah, maybe it’s one tape today. But you’ve been coming here for weeks.” Your jaw drops, but you can’t seem to come up with an appropriate response. You’ve been had. For the past months, you were convinced that he only saw you as a little piece of eye candy wandering through the store, but he’s been seeing right through you all along. Now you definitely don’t feel like Catwoman anymore. When he notices that you’re not going to say anything, Neil continues.

“Did you really think we don’t have security cameras all over the place? Well, I’ve been watching you the entire time, playing along when you pretended to be all ditzy and cute. It’s not just one instance. It’s a whole case, baby. And you’ll go to jail.” That makes you break out of your stupor, and you can feel your pulse speeding up.

“No- wait, no, no, no. Please, can’t we just talk about this for one second?”

“I don’t bargain with thieves.” He’s smug. Too smug for your liking, considering that he’s threatening you with the loss of your precious, precious freedom.

“Please, I’ll do anything,” you plead, fixing him with the biggest puppy dog eyes you can muster in an attempt to appeal to the soft, awkward side of him. And he cracks. At least the tiniest bit.

“Maybe… maybe we can work something out. But I’ll need to search you first. Who knows what else you’re hiding.” He gestures for you to stand, and you get up from your seat, causing the leather cushioning to faintly squeak once again. “Spread your arms. To the side.”

Your expression settles into a pout, but you do as you’re told, much to Neil’s satisfaction. He returns to his previous position behind you and starts by touching your shoulders, slowly trailing his hands down your arms. His fingers leave tingles behind on your skin, and you’re even more aware of how close he’s gotten when you feel his breath on the back of your neck. His cheeky hands continue to wander, making their way down your sides, softly squeezing around your waist before he moves on to your hips. You try to think about it as a TSA search, but it’s a little hard to do when his hands linger for much longer than necessary on your thighs and your calves as he crouches down. Once he’s satisfied, he straightens back up, and you almost think he’s done before he leans in to rasp into your ear.

“You’re gonna have to take your clothes off… so I can search you more thoroughly.”

Your heart skips a beat, and you’re about to protest, but he’s already pulling your top off, tossing it aside before he moves on to your shorts. A sigh escapes him as he pulls them down along with your panties, and he doesn’t give you even a second to recover before he’s gripping and caressing the curves of your body. Leaning his chin on your shoulder, he runs his fingers over your hips, feeling how your skin warms beneath his touch. “Take your bra off.”

“What? There’s no way I could be hiding a tape in there –“ In response, Neil lightly pinches your thigh, causing you to jump a little and let out a soft whine. Seems like there’s no way around it. With shaky hands, you reach behind yourself to unclasp your bra, and Neil leans back ever so slightly to give you the space to move. That is, until your tits are exposed, and his body is glued against yours once more. The feeling of his hardening cock pressing up against your ass sends heat into your core, and you instinctively clench your thighs together. Of course, this catches his attention.

“Ah, so you are hiding something.”

He wraps his arms around you, steering the two of you over to the mirror he hung on the wall next to his ridiculous little costume rack. You watch your own flushed expression as his hand slips between your legs to let his fingers trace over your already wet folds. With a groan, you try to avert your eyes before he corrects you with a rough grope of your breast.

“No. Eyes on yourself. I want you to see the guilt on your face while I search you.”

Reluctantly, your eyes return to the mirror, just in time for him to plunge a finger into your velvety pussy. Your lips part, and as much as you’d like to keep quiet, your resolve crumbles immediately when he finds that sweet spot inside of you. Within minutes, the office fills up with the sounds of your pleasure and the obscene squelching of his fingers in your wet cunt. And he’s thorough in his search, quickly working you up from one finger to three, making your toes curl against the checkered floor. For a moment, he drives you up to that delightful edge, only to pull his fingers out of you at the last second.

You don’t have the capacity to complain when he lifts his hand towards the light, showing off his glistening digits. Both of you are entranced by the sight, and Neil lets out a soft wheeze before he licks his fingers clean.

“Yeah, I made up my mind. Get over to the desk and bend over.”

“I have a boyfriend,” you whine, turning your head to give him your biggest puppy dog eyes.

“Well, you should’ve thought about it before you stole from me. Losing those rare tapes was a financial disaster for me. I’m risking this store. And I’m not gonna do it without something in return.” He finishes his sentence with a light smack to your ass which only manages to get you even more riled up. It’s hard to disagree with him when he knows just how to get you going.

Neil drags you back over to the desk, angling the camera in just the right way before he hurriedly tears his clothes off completely. The sight of his urgency makes your chest fill with butterflies, but you still need to protest. You have to!

“I don’t usually do this… what if my boyfriend finds out?”

“That’s one more reason to behave. You wouldn’t want him to see this little clip, right?” he asks, although the question is entirely rhetorical. You’d love to feel guilty, but you can’t bring yourself to it.

 His hands run from your shoulders down to your hips, kneading your flesh with the attentiveness of a potter crafting a masterpiece, and he leans over you to place open-mouthed kisses down your spine. You shiver, drawing your bottom lip between your teeth to stifle the noises that are threatening to escape your mouth. With a quick movement, Neil reaches under your knee to guide your leg on top of the desk, and you let out a soft sigh when you can feel your arousal rolling down the inside of your thigh as he spreads you open with two fingers.

“You know… nice girls wouldn’t get this wet in situations like these. Then again, you’re a filthy thief, so you’re the furthest thing from a good girl.”

Neil wraps one arm around your waist, pulling you back against his chest so he can latch back onto the side of your neck, sucking and biting while he uses his other hand to guide the tip of his cock against your drooling entrance. His naked skin against yours fills your head with need, and you press up against him a little more to feel him more closely as he slowly pushes inside your velvety cunt. Both of you let out a hiss, and Neil follows it up with a needy whimper as he stills for a moment.

“Fuck… oh fuck,” he breathes, causing your lips to twitch up in subtle amusement. Neil’s hand shakes as he adjusts the camera, making sure to get everything in frame, and in this moment, you clench around him on purpose, causing him to moan right into your ear. “Jesus Christ, don’t do that –”

The slap to your ass is meant to punish you, but it’s doing the exact opposite, and you let him know this by moaning his name. His lips return to your pulse as he pushes his cock deeper into you, stretching you so perfectly that it sends goosebumps over your skin. Or maybe it’s because of his warm breath on your ear. Or his hands diligently kneading your tits. The cocktail of heated touches and sensations is literally making you feel drunk.

“Your cock feels so good,” you whine, causing him to suck in a sharp breath at the praise.

“Yeah?” he chuckles, bottoming out inside of you before he starts to set a slow, sensual rhythm. “You’re such a depraved little slut… getting off on your punishment. If only your boyfriend knew.”

Neil rolls his hips against yours, drawing a moan from both of you that would fit perfectly on the set of a porno. Maybe you’re hamming it up a little to feed his ego. But that isn’t very hard to do when he fills you up so deliciously, making you wetter with every thrust.

You’re already starting to feel breathless when he slowly speeds up, drilling into your dripping pussy with even more fervor. Words are starting to become a little difficult, but you try your best anyway. “You’re better than him. SO much better –“

Your reward is a second smack – aimed at your chest this time.

“You’re damn right I am,” he groans, sucking another hickey into your skin and adding to the little necklace of bruises he’s been placing around your neck. “Suck these for me, will you?”

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion, but it doesn’t last long when he brings his fingers up to your mouth, and you eagerly latch onto his digits, still faintly tasting yourself from earlier. You suck them down to the knuckle, running your tongue in between them in a way that makes him groan and pound your cunt even harder. Once his fingers are sufficiently coated in your saliva, he pulls them free from your lips and reaches between your legs to rub your clit.

The one leg you’ve been standing on threatens to give out immediately, but he holds you up with his other arm, and gently guides your hands into place to better support yourself on the desk. Neil nuzzles his face into your hair, breathing heavily against the shell of your ear.

“If you promise not to steal ever again, I might let you cum on my cock.”

His words are intercepted by quiet grunts and whimpers, and you find yourself agreeing pretty quickly, blabbering out promise after promise.

“I’ll never – never steal again! I swear, I swear, I swear, please! Please, please let me cum –!”

You’re almost not recognizing your own voice due to the desperately needy tone that’s laced through your pleading, but Neil doesn’t mind. Quite the opposite, really, because you can feel his thrusts picking up in intensity. He rewards your obedience by rubbing your clit a little faster, and you have to bite your knuckle as to not cry out his name. Fuck, it’s only noon and you’re approaching your release at breakneck speed.

“Fuck… I – I’m close,” you breathe, turning your head to look at him from over your shoulder. His teeth are back in your neck as he kisses and bites at your skin, and his voice sounds strained as he answers you.

“Go ahead… let go for me. If only your boyfriend knew, hm?”

That’s it. Your orgasm rips through you, and you let out a whine as you claw at the surface beneath you. Neil is generous enough to let you ride out your climax, but you can tell how impatient he is when he suddenly pulls out, swallowing heavily.

 “On your back.” He doesn’t have to tell you twice. It’s a little awkward, but you manage to scramble and reposition yourself, lying back against the desk and looking up at him with flushed cheeks and tousled hair. Neil is in the same state, licking his lips and swallowing dryly as he guides his cock back into your cunt, aided by his thumb on the base of his length.

“Fuck… how can you still be this tight? Shit, FUCK…” He’s cursing and muttering under his breath, having half a brain to readjust the still rolling camera as to not miss a single second. His hands guide your legs around his waist, and he leans over you, staring at you through blown out pupils that clash against the vibrant intensity of his ocean gaze. His pretty face is red, and sweat beads on his forehead, causing his hair to stick to his skin. Without thinking, you reach up to push it back, causing both of you to still for a second before Neil finds his tone again.

“M’gonna fill you up… and send you back home to your boyfriend with a creampie in that pretty cunt. Alright? Alright.”

You can only nod in response, hearing your own racing heartbeat in your ears along with his continued grunts and moans. His hands on you are gentle, but his thrusts definitely aren’t as he pounds you against the desk. Neil’s hips smack against yours, causing every novelty item around the two of you to tremble along to your feverish rhythm. You tilt your head back but he goes after you, finally capturing your lips in a hungry kiss that he’s been trying to hold back from the entire time. But now that he’s rapidly approaching his own climax, the self-restraint is completely out of the window.

Your tongues clash, and you moan into his mouth when his hands find yours, linking your fingers together. Neil’s lips faintly taste of iced coffee as he licks against your tongue, and your grip on his hands tightens when his movements start to become erratic.

Your lips stay locked the entire time, even as he lets out a guttural groan when he finishes inside of you, thrusting into you a few more times to push it in as deep as possible. Finally, he stills and pulls away from you, unable to resist stealing one last peck from your swollen lips. You’re still breathing heavily as his hands roam over your body once more, relishing the feeling of your skin beneath his fingertips. Now that he has material on you and you promised not to steal again, he’s gentle. Almost too gentle, and you have to clear your throat to snap him out of it.

Neil catches himself, blinking down at you with soft eyes while he wipes some sweat off his brow. There’s a subtle twitch in his lips that tells you that he’d love to keep touching you, but he’s aware of the setting you’re in. Almost reluctantly, he pulls out of you to let you retrieve your clothes. While you’re getting dressed, he checks the camera and stops the recording before he speaks up.

“You’re free to go, then. You know what happens if I catch you stealing again, right?”

The question prompts you to nod in response, and you mumble out a “yes” as you pull your top back over your head. Once Neil confiscates the VHS from your purse, you’re free to exit the store on trembling legs, cringing a little at the feeling of your combined fluids leaking into your underwear. But God, this heist was worth it.

INT. YOUR PLACE – LIVING ROOM – DAY

As expected, the house is quiet when you get home, and you let out a deep, satisfied sigh as you throw yourself onto the couch to decompress for a moment.

Not even 20 minutes pass until the front door opens, and you hear familiar footsteps. A lazy smile spreads over your face, and you sit up, watching you boyfriend as he kicks off his shoes and throws his jacket over the coat rack on the wall. He makes his way over, leaning down to press a sweet kiss to your lips, and your vision is filled by ocean eyes and faint freckles. Neil chuckles softly, placing the camera onto the coffee table before he sinks down on the couch next to you and pulls you close. “I’m glad Lucien agreed to take over the rest of the day.” You hum in agreement, closing your eyes when he brushes his fingers through your hair to massage your scalp.

“I think that was our best one yet.”

FIN.

tags: @ellebelleshelby @cilliansprincess @mcumorningstar @x0xomady @mandies24 @detroitbecomevenom @pretty-bluebird @ink5ouls (couldn't tag) @flwrs4aust @vampmary1411 @ashdrinksoatmilk @luvizuku @nnattu @ptolemaniac @kiss-me-cill-me @celebrities-imagines

[starseungs]

of fishes and chocolate muffins. ksm.

kim seungmin x gn!reader — working the morning shift at a cafe on weekdays isn't really the best, entertainment wise. still, eavesdropping on your customers wasn't something you did on a daily basis. it just so happened that two of your regulars had something in store for you today.

GENRE/S — fluff, humor, a pinch of angst, cafe/coffee shop au, writer!seungmin (barely mentioned) • 1.2k words

WARNING/S — profanity for humor, seungmin is pretty down in the dumps for most of this, part 2 of this fic but a different y/n, mentions of unrequited love

( ✒️ ) happy birthday to @seungiepaws !! here's your request for a part 2 of universe lovie, i know i said i'll do a drabble as a gift but it ended up a little longer so you're getting a whole fic mwah <3 i hope you like it

2024 ⓒ starseungs on tumblr. do not steal, repost, or edit.

The small bell perched on top of the cafe’s entrance door chimed softly at the arrival of a new customer. Your well-rehearsed greetings immediately followed, words racing out of your lips before you could even think twice. It really didn’t matter whether you meant them or not. As long as the guest felt welcomed, then that meant you were already doing your job well.

You doubt any of them ever even acknowledged your efforts, anyway. That was just how the world worked on a normal Monday morning—everyone running on autopilot until the seemingly brainless hoard of zombies got their lethal dose of caffeine or sugar and started acting like proper functioning members of society for the rest of the day. Then, the cycle repeats.

As an “all-rounder” cafe employee (as you liked to call yourself), this was just another day in the bigger scale of the year. Not too important, nor was it a particularly boring day. That simply wasn’t possible if you were working at a cafe, or really, just working in general.

“You’re always here, dude.” An exasperated voice groans from the window booth next to the serving counter. You recognized his face right away as one of your regulars who looked like a hamster. “At this point, you need to pay this place rent.”

The man he was talking to rolled his eyes with a scoff, even though his fingers never stopped typing on his laptop���s keyboard. “I’m a paying customer. Objectively, I’m already giving them money to stay here.”

You couldn’t help but silently snort at the guy’s comeback. He wasn’t entirely wrong, after all. This cafe’s prices already took into account the amenities they could use here. So technically speaking, as long as customers bought something from the cafe’s menu, they could stay for as long as they want until the establishment closes. That’s not usually the case, though. Most people still had places to be and other things to do other than have a staycation on some random cafe seat.

Note that you said “most” instead of “all”. Of course, there were always bound to be those who, for the lack of a better description—overstayed their welcome. 

And one of them is that chestnut-haired male who was currently getting berated by his friend.

“Seungmin, seriously!” The other guy, who you finally remembered being named Jisung from his previous orders, exclaimed in concern. “You can’t just stay here all day, every day. I know you’re trying to get over your roommate, but at least make use of your rent?” Jisung almost pleads.

You really didn’t mean to eavesdrop on their conversation, as the topic seemed awfully private, but what exactly could you do from the close proximity of the counter and their booth? It’s not like you were judging the two of them. There was no harm intended, and you were sure you’d still go about your day as usual with or without this newly obtained knowledge from strangers.

Seungmin sighed. “I don’t think you want me to be cooped up in my room writing either, so what do you really want to achieve?” His hands finally parted ways from his keyboard for the first time in about an hour. “Jisung, you know being alone in the apartment is only going to remind me of how my roommate is out there with their boyfriend being all happy and enjoying life while I’m over here writing sappy fictional love stories because I don’t have one of my own.”

“Oh, but you do.” Jisung huffs. “It’s just the unrequited kind.”

“Haha, very funny.”

“Just saying,” he comments. “I’m gonna let you sulk all you want as part of your healing process, but you really shouldn’t be sacrificing yourself just for the thought of them. You deserve better, Min.”

If you could only agree out loud, then you already would’ve. Unfortunately, that meant revealing the fact that you’ve been secretly listening in to the personal conversations of your customers, and you weren’t completely sure if that was even legal for you to do so. Still, what are they going to do? Charge you for having ears?

“I don’t know,” Seungmin mutters. “I’ll manage it eventually.” And to this, Jisung only frowns.

Now, you were just as frustrated as Jisung was. Seungmin is an attractive guy—you were one hundred percent certain that he could get anyone head-over-heels for him if he wanted. And yet, here he was, a monotone mess over unrequited love? Whoever that roommate is, they had severely failed to see the vision since if that was you, best believe you weren’t letting him go just like that. 

Seungmin had honestly caught your eye ever since the moment he started going to this cafe. To put things into perspective, you were practically all smiles for the rest of the day every time he came to order something in the mornings before his daily schedule. When he started staying for whole days, it was only a matter of time before you ended up shooting your shot, even if you barely knew anything about him. Heck, the most you even knew about him was that he liked the chocolate muffins the most here!

A plate of chocolate muffin was heavily plopped down on the two men’s table, startling them due to the sudden act. They exchanged confused glances before Jisung cleared his throat to speak. “Uh—we didn’t order that.”

“It’s on the house.” You pursed your lips.

“What?” Seungmin asks, dumbfounded. You knew he was going to ask for a reason until he saw the look on your face while staring at him. His expression quickly shifted to one of mortification. “Were—were you eavesdropping on us?”

You clicked your tongue. How were you finding his reaction to that so cute? “Look, I didn’t mean to,” you explain. “See that counter? Just how far do you think my station is to your booth for me not to hear a single thing?” Seungmin only grumbles—probably to hide his embarrassment.

“Alright, sure. Whatever,” he says. “I still don’t need that muffin.”

Your eye twitched involuntarily. All of a sudden, you were already leaning on their table with narrowed eyes pointed at the laptop-facing man. “Okay, listen here, you soggy rained-on puppy.” You could have sworn you heard Jisung choke. “This is gonna sound really shitty of me, but there are plenty more fish in the sea. The same goes for your experiences in life. Trust me, you’re not even close to losing those opportunities yet. Unless you’re trying to live like a saint, that is. So grow some balls after your little pity party.”

“That was,” Seungmin exhales shakily. “Vaguely threatening. But somehow I’m not as offended as I thought I would be, so—uh, thanks?” He taps lightly on the plastic cup of his drink, looking away awkwardly.

You lifted yourself off the table and crossed your arms. “My name is Y/N. I work here every morning on the weekdays.” 

“Right,” he hums, still not glancing your way and instead facing the baked good you dropped by their tabletop. “So, is this muffin really free?”

All you let yourself give him was a nonchalant shrug. “Yeah. Just call me whenever or something. Congratulations on hooking a new fish,” you said without shame before walking away back to your station.

If you only looked back for a moment, you would’ve seen Jisung gasping for air from laughter with an incredibly red faced Seungmin blanking out as he held a serious staring contest with his muffin.

You could only hope that cheered him up a bit.

MASTERTAG ━ STATUS: OPEN — ASK OR COMMENT 🫶

@fairyki @hysgf @euncsace @comet-falls @starlostseungmin @ameliesaysshoo @hyunverse @wnbnny @xocandyy @minluvly @moon0fthenight @estellaluna @hanjsquokka @starlostastronaut @minsueng @l3visbby @myjisung

[humansofnewyork]

“They’re oblivious right now. They just think they’re at the park. I’m the one who’s got to figure stuff out. I’ve got enough money for us to get home. Then I’ve got to find a way to get something to eat. I’ve got to pay bills. We’re starting to get foreclosure letters in the mail. It’s just impossible to make ends meet right now, unless you’ve got school. I’m educated, but I just don’t have any degrees. I have no way of showing to a job that’s never met me: ‘Hey, I can do this.’ Plus I never know how it’s going to turn out, and that alone scares me. Maybe I’m just a pussy, I don’t know. I’m not proud of the stuff I’m selling. I’ve seen what it’s done to my mom, which is why I don’t use it. I don’t want that for my kids. I don’t want it to fuck up their life like it fucked up my life and my mom’s. That’s how I actually learned about it. Seeing how she’d fight to get that shit, no matter what. I know I could be selling to someone else’s mom. I hear that little voice in my head, like everyone else. But I block that out. I’m on autopilot. Quick exchange: I get my money, I give them their stuff. I block everything else out and I’m only looking at what I need, you feel me? And yeah it sounds evil, or whatever. But I weigh what I need more, and I need stability. I just need money. Money for my kids. Money for me. Money for like, all of us. Money so I don’t have to feel that stress of where am I going to get this next. And it’s the most accessible thing. It’s the easiest thing to get. You know, it’s Fentanyl.”