#tips or anything are greatly appreciated

[xo-lesserafim]

.

[dicksoutformtl]

sorry for my lack of knowledge about the world everyone 😔 i’ve been hit in the head a lot when i was younger and it made me very stupid

i’m back again with a question for anyone who may have an answer or an idea, but does anyone have a face care routine/products that’s hydrating & good for both sensitive dry & oily skin?

if i get things for dry skin it messes with the oil an makes that way worse, if i do something for the oil it makes my skin dry out real bad— i can’t seem to win an my poor face is suffering lmao

i’ve tried cerve, cetaphil, aveeno, an so on— hadn’t had a lot of good luck depending on what i’m using it for, like for example so far with the lotions they’re like to oily or something an my skin gets really shiny an my pores clog that or the worst part it makes my skin feel weird an gross an i lowkey freak the fuck out :’((

[abba-enthusiast]

Oh shit, if you fucking. DRENCH your bread in butter and roast it , it’s way better than when you use just a little butter. Who’d have thunk

[one-sexy-fucking-toucan]

I want a pair of headphones with an at least halfway decent microphone Help.

I have no idea how to shop for items I need

[fc-drawing]

Siiiigh, when the background turned out so good you don’t even want to add anything else

[bubblingdrfizz]

☆ INTRO !!!

hey guys i should probably use tumblr so

throws carrd at you

^^^ most information is on here... some things may be a bit outdated so just incase...

introduction time!!!!

BELOW THE CUT vvv

Last Updated... 5/11/2025 (HAPPY MOTHERS' DAY!)

/5/11/2025 Update: Just put in a new carrd after ALMOST A YEAR?? also changed name prefs X3 nothin too much

1/3/2025 Update: HAPPY NEW YEAR! Small changes... again lmao. idk shrug i literally have no identity. added a thing where i mentioned that i am quite the awkward person.. talking 2 cool ppl online is scaryy [cry]

8/7/2024 Update: Changes to my preferences (name, pronouns, etc)! I will be updating my carrd soon. :) ALSO II2 EP RELEASED!!!

2/14/2024 Update: Small updates! Just added the read more line and a few gifs to make the post pleasant to look at (hopefully). Also just a minor addition to the pronouns part and just one random note at the end. :)

hi, i'm MURA !!! ♡ u can also can me mic or one of my kin names

+ call me ANYTHING honestly. i have no set name

◇ MINOR!

pronouns -- any + any neos/xenos

— auxiliary pronouns can be they/them and she/her

—— HSHS I HOPE I'M USING AUXILIARY PRONOUNS CORRECTLY!!? :,)

unlabeled lesbian , demiromantic ; identity

interests -- pjsk, vocaloids, object shows, tsams, eddsworld, reading, writing, music, dw

taco ii fictionkin/copinglink :3 ; kinning

sometimes you'll see typing quirks (like s -> z, "zuper zick!! / super sick!!"), but i highly doubt i'll use them much. if i do, i'll be sure to add translations when asked ^_^

TONE TAGS ARE NOT NECESSARY, BUT APPRECIATED!!! :D

i am VERY AWKWARD, and i apologize for that!! PLEASE.. i love talking with people, i really do 😭😭 i swear that i'm not uninterested in others or mean any ill will, i'm just extremely nervous

○ ○ ○

BLOG STUFF!!!! :3

requests and asks will (probably) ALWAYS BE OPEN!!!

^^^ i don't mind silly talk revolving the topic, but unfortunately i will not respond to requests/asks about nsfw (like art or just extremely inappropriate stuff)... there's a line i draw!!! wow drawing lines are fun did you know that

^^^ how am i supposed to word this? uh i can... i can take funny stuff like dirty jokes or just stupid crap (broken humor amirite), as long as it's not sending media or requesting media explicitly nsfw. that makes sense, right? please tell me that makes sense graahjjhhh

i plan on being active, but with responsibilities coming back into play i cannot guarantee it! i'll try my best though, ahahah

— 01/03/2025: SIGHH school sucks.. i am not active as i would like to be

reblogs are appreciated!!

^^^ yes yes plz do (i suppose i dont know how social media works or if im using reblogs correctly but like. yeah do it thank youuu 👍

▪︎ random notes...

* i'm new(ish) to tumblr (i've never actually looked into the app, i usually just came by every now and then to check out tags without managing my acocunt) so emm... expect to see me acknowledge random stuff here and go insane over it... LIKE COLORS!!! being able to color the text is fun i enjoy that lol

* emoticon user, because who's stopping me from doing that?

* i'm running out of cool things to say...

* SOWA CREEM!!!!!

* tumblr's kinda fun to use actually HOLD ON............

* take this app away from me im having an unnecessary amount of entertainment from writing random shizzlewizz on this singular post what??

* oh by the way i CAN'T TYPE PROPERLY

[doodleloopsy]

PSA:

...a fit will be thrown if I don't figure out how to draw men....h e l p m e.

[catcrumb]

after 5 years of running this blog, i've made the decision to open up a patreon!

my life circumstances are changing, and patreon will greatly help me make ends meet and pay rent. nothing about this blog will be changing - i'll still be posting a cat doodle every day, same as i always have.

i have a $3/month tier and a $6/month tier - both work as tip jars, with the latter being if you feel especially generous and can afford it.

right now i have transparent and/or higher-resolution PNGs of certain catcrumbs that i've used for redbubble up for members, if anyone wants to make emojis or such. i'll also be taking requests for drawings to be transparentized and/or put on redbubble. in the future i may start offering additional rewards - bonus art, requests, maybe physical stuff - but my life needs to settle down a bit before i do anything like that.

your money is of course yours to do with as you see fit (and there are many many good causes out there that i urge you to donate to), but i hope that if my little drawings have given you joy over the years and you have the room in your budget, you'll consider supporting me!

i also have a kofi and redbubble if you'd rather support me that way!

no matter what - i genuinely appreciate all the kindness i have been given. i try very hard to keep catcrumb a self-driven art exercise - just one cat a day, doesnt have to be perfect or even good, just has to be a cat - but i couldn't have kept up the hobby without so many people's joy. it's been a genuinely incredible experience for my silly little scribbles to have positively touched people's lives - in-jokes between friends and partners, a gentle reminder, tattoos and baby clothes, something to look forward to... it's really been a flood of human kindness.

thank you all so much for all the joy - here's to more! :~D

[bitchface24-7]

Could I request smut headcanons for Arcane Viktor, Jayce, Steb, Vander, Silco, and Ekko reacting to his female s/o accidentally turning him on please?

HEADCANON - ACCIDENTALLY TURNING THEM ON

ft. Viktor, Jayce, Steb, Vander, Silco, and Ekko

synopsis: you didn't mean to. Honestly! You weren't doing anything special, anything intentionally, it just… kind of happened? It’s not your fault your boys are obsessed with you!

warnings: accidental teasing, purposeful teasing, banter, semi-public sex, fingering, oral (m/f receiving), dry humping, thigh/ass kink, wearing his clothes, praise, degradation, cumming in pants, squirting, marking, smoking, argument (not between R or the boys, some random dude), voice kink, Grammarly as my beta

genre: m/f

p.s. Thanks for being the first request for headcanons! A few of these characters I haven't written for before so I hope I get their characterization down. Love ya! Xoxo

VIKTOR

He's never had the biggest libido. Being so focused on his work he forgets basic necessities. Eating, sleeping, the whole shebang.

But when he does remember… oh boy you're in for a wild ride.

Literally.

You don't know what the hell happened. All you know is you went to the lab to drop off a packed lunch for Viktor. You're certain he hasn't eaten breakfast so he must be starving, even if he himself hasn't clocked it yet.

You wore a simple sun dress in your favourite colour, highlighting your beauty. Your hair was up and out of the way, and you can't t remember if you have any makeup on or not. Simple flats dawn your feet. You're comfortable.

You're insanely beautiful to Viktor.

He didn't hear you enter the lab, but he saw the lunch pail lightly drop down onto his desk, and when he lifted his gaze, all he saw was your cleavage.

Soft skin he's intimately familiar with. Skin that bruises wonderfully and that makes you gasp in a way that makes Viktor's ears warm.

He sees your mouth moving, but doesn't hear anything coming out of it. Oh your lips look so lush. So soft and biteable. Glossy too. He wonders if they taste like your favourite fruit.

Before he knows it, there's a tight feeling in his pants and his cock aches against the restricting fabric.

One thing led to another and here you are; spread out across his desk. Your panties in his pocket as he eats you out viciously. The tip of his nose, his lips, and his chin covered in your essence.

You gasp and moan at the familiar sensations. God. You two may not have a crazy sex life, but it is always mind-blowing.

You can see one of Viktor’s arms moving up and down desperately as he eats you out, he's jerking himself off as he devours you.

That realization is what sends you over the edge as you cum on Viktor’s tongue. Your thighs clench against his beautiful face and he moans brokenely into your sex. A slight whimper escapes him when he's done.

You're left panting on the desk as Viktor casually states, “Thank you for the meal. I greatly appreciated it.” as he wipes his mouth clean with the back of his hand.

You laugh incredulously as he takes the lunch pail off the desk to see what you brought him.

What the fuck just happened?

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

JAYCE

Jayce is a simple man. Everything about you is jaw-droppingly gorgeous. He's surprised he has enough blood in his body to keep him functioning with the amount of times you've made him hard.

This morning is no different.

Jayce wakes up alone in bed and pouts at the cold spot you left behind. There's a whisper of warmth, indicating you got up maybe ten minutes ago.

He drags his feet to the kitchen, his slippers sliding against the floor as he yawns and scratches his bare stomach.

The yawn gets caught in his throat when he sees you humming lightly in the kitchen, casually making two coffees to start your day.

Your hair is a bit messy, but that doesn't bother Jayce. It’s what your wearing that gets him.

Jayce runs hot. He always has. So when it’s time to go to bed, he takes his pyjamas off and sleeps in boxers. When he wakes up he puts the pants back on, but he was wondering where the shirt was.

It’s on you. It’s way too big, coming down to about mid-thigh on you. It’s a rich red colour with some gold embroidery. On the chest pocket is the symbol of House Talis.

You need something on the top shelf and get on your tip toes to get it as you reach up, and with that, Jayce sees the entirety of your thighs and your ass. Your underwear leaves very little to the imagination.

Jayce feels as if he got punched in the gut as all the blood in his body rushes to his dick.

He comes up behind you quietly and puts a hand on your hip, the other reaching up to grab the other mug for you. Jayce likes putting your favourite cups too high up so you have to ask for his help, it's working in his favour at the moment.

“Jayce!” you gasp, a smile painting your pretty face. He can't help but grin back at you and kiss your cheek as he places the cup down on the countertop.

You tilt your head to the side to give Jayce more room, he takes it gladly. Kissing down your neck, nipping as he goes. You moan quietly.

Your moans amp up when you feel his massive hard on rubbing against your ass incessantly, “Really?! Jayce!”

He moans out a laugh, “Don’t judge me! I can't help it, you're so beautiful.”

You turn around and kiss him properly, a hand cupping his erection, he whines into the kiss.

Your coffee is forgotten as he pins you down onto the countertop, his pyjama pants lowered just enough to release his cock.

He ruts agaisnt your clothed pussy, the underwear giving great friction for the two of you.

You can't help but moan at the feeling. Your panties are ruined with your slick and Jayce's precum. The tip of his cock bumps against your clit deliciously, and his length keeps the pleasure going.

Before you know it you're cumming, soaking your underwear, and Jayce follows suit, ruining your underwear even further.

Your thighs and ass have fingerprint-shaped bruises. They'll be there for the next few weeks.

Guess you'll have to start wearing Jayce's clothes more often…

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

STEB

Steb is a sweetheart. He's very kind and caring, if a bit quiet. He doesn't speak often, but his facial expressions and body language give him away easily.

So imagine his surprise when he wakes up with a raging hard on and you none the wiser as you continue to drift off in dream land.

His face heats up in mortification as he tries to pry you away from him. Gently detangling your bodies, in doing this, the nightgown you wear to bed has shifted as well.

Your breasts damn near spill out— wait you moved again your tits are out. A clear shot of your soft breasts and lightly pebbled nipples is all Steb can focus on. Then his gaze shifts against his will.

His eyes trail your waist, your barely covered hips and there she is. Your pussy is out and playfully saying high. Your pubes are a bit bushier than normal due to the amount of tossing and turning you do.

God you're displayed like a delicious feast and Steb wants to sink his teeth into you.

But you're sleeping, and you work long hours. He doesn't want to bother you.

So he uses your image to jerk off.

He's a bit clumsy, and he tries his best to not make noise. He's unsuccessful.

Pants, moans, and whines escape the pretty fish boy. He gets loud enough that you wake up, and what a sight he is!

Face flushed, lower lip bitten in desperation, a large hand pumping his cock, fingers deftly playing with the ridges on his shaft.

You moan lightly at the sight and Steb freezes. “Don’t stop on my account darling. I was just starting to enjoy the show.”

Steb’s face erupts into a bright red as a shuddery moan escapes him. You bite your lip at the sound, Steb very rarely speaks, so hearing his voice all debauched has made your pussy dripping wet.

You open your legs wide and start to play with your pussy, dragging a finger through your wetness, three fingers rubbing casually rubbing your clit.

A look of astonishment is what you get from Steb, especially when you take his free hand and bring it to your breast, squeezing it harshly. Steb’s motions speed up, as do yours. Seeing him so ruined at the mere sight of you is ramping up your ego you're not going to lie.

Eventually, the two of you cum, it happens when the two of you kiss sweetly enough. Steb’s panting in exhaustion as you just lay him on your chest, tracing his features with your fingertips.

“… Thank you.” Steb says quietly, his voice smooth and sweet. You smile at your handsome boy, “No problem sweetheart. Now, shall we go back to sleep for a bit? Your shift starts in a few hours.”

Steb groans and buries his face deeper into your chest and you can't help but laugh at him.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

VANDER

You've been helping Vander out at the Last Drop ever since you were a teen and he was in his twenties.

You helped look after the kids, and helped count inventory. Vander is the face of the bar, both as the bartender and as the owner.

Now the kids are teens themselves, you're in your late twenties and Vander is pushing early forties. The eleven-year age gap now not as obvious as it once was.

You've always kind of had a crush on him. He's gorgeous, kind, caring, and has this gentle dominance about him. He's never scared you— he's the one you go to when you're scared.

Especially now that you bartend with the man. “You're family” he said, “The kids don't need an eye on them 24/7 now, let them grow a bit on their own. But I still need you. Come bartend with me. I'll teach you all the tricks.”

Now, how could you say no to that?

You couldn’t, so now you’re a well known face at the Last Drop

A very well known face

A very pretty one

But there’s an unsaid rule, You’re Vander’s Girl. No if’s, ands, or buts.

Some patrons don’t understand that.

One in particular is making you want to commit murder. He’s rude, touchy, and disgusting to look at.

At one point when you turned around to grab a bottle of booze, the son of a bitch slapped your ass, in retaliation, you swung around and smashed said bottle of booze into his face.

He fell flat on his back, glass stuck in his face as it bled profusely. Other patrons of the bar became silent. A pin drop could be heard in the once lively bar.

“You Bitch!” The man gargles out, oops looks like you broke his jaw. You sneer down at him, “You’re lucky I’m the one who hurt you, instead of Vander.”

“The ladies right. Now get the hell out of my bar.” Vander states as he enters the bar from the back room, wiping his hands with a towel, before tossing it onto his shoulder.

The hurt man stumbles up and leaves, his tail between his legs. Your anger hasn’t subsided, as you pant in frustration. You want to rip your hair out, destroy the bottles of liquor lining the wall. Stab someone. Anything to get this anger out.

Vander clears his throat, “Benzo, you mind watching the bar for a bit? Gotta calm the Little Miss down.”

Benzo just nods silently as Vander takes your hand and drags you to the back of the bar, into the stock room. There’s a multitude of bottles, barrels, cold fridges, and a table with a few chairs, so that you can count inventory comfortably.

Vander sits you down before sitting next to you. There’s a small silence between the two of you, but it’s a comfortable one.

“I’m proud of you.” At that statement, your head whips around to look at the handsome man. “What?”

“I’m proud of you. A decade ago you would’ve let it slide, not this time. You stood up for yourself. I’m proud of you.”

You snicker, “A decade ago I was seventeen and worried about how others thought of me. Not anymore. Who gives a shit if some people don’t like me? I can’t please everyone.”

“I forget how young you are sometimes. The Lanes… they change you. They change everyone.”

A small smile erupts across your face, you hand coming to rest on top of one of Vanders. God damn his hand is so much bigger than yours.

“You’re young too you know? You’re only thirty-eight. Oh the horror, you’re almost forty!” You tease, a giggle in your voice. Vander rolls his eyes, “I was eleven when you were born.”

“Now I’m a grown woman.”

There’s a silence between you two again, but this time it’s not as comfortable. There’s tension there. Undeniable tension.

Vander clears his throat after some time, “So, you feeling better? Not gonna kill one of my patrons?”

You purse your lips, “Honestly. No. I’m still angry, and I know if I go out to bartend again without dealing with it, I probably will snap, and at someone who doesn’t deserve it.”

With that, you stand up and place yourself in Vander’s lap. The older man gasps at your audacity. You smirk, “One thing that’s always helped me calm down is a good orgasm.”

Vander’s hands go to your hips, they completely encompass them. “I can’t Lass. You’re… you’re too young.”

“I’m twenty seven. Like I said before, I’m a grown woman.”

“I’ve known you since you were a teen.”

“And I’ve wanted to fuck you since then. Be happy I’m seducing you now rather than when I was a teen.”

Vander says your name sharply when you start to rub yourself in his lap, “I know you want this too Vander. I see how you look at me. At my ass when I bend over, at my tits when I lean against the bar, at my lips when I bite them. I see how much you want me, and the guilt that follows.”

A groan escapes him, “We shouldn’t… it’s wrong.”

“Then why does it feel so good?”

Vander smashes his lips against yours and you moan at the feeling, the very large bulge rubbing against your pussy isn’t helping.

You both pull apart from the kiss, panting as you stare at one another, “We can’t fuck here. I need time to prep you. My fingers good enough for now lovely?” Vander asks, eyes dark with want. You nod desperately as you lick your lips, god you taste just like him now. His pipe, his favourite whisky, and mint from when he brushed his teeth. Its addicting.

Vander pushes your pants and panties down easily, your bare pussy soaking Vander's pants. His fingers are huge, god they're gonna feel so good fucking your pussy.

And they do. They're massive. Curling against your g-spot effortlessly. They even bump lightly into your cervix which sends a zing of pleasure down your spine.

You have to cover your mouth with your hand so as to not let Benzo or he patrons know what’s going on.

Before you know it, you're cumming aggressively. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you squirt. A squeal escaping your parted lips.

Vander hushes you as he prolongs your pleasure, almost pushing to overstimulation.

A sweet kiss is places onto your temple as Vander gets you presentable again. He pops his fingers into hai mouth and you groan in embarrassment.

“What? You taste as sweet as you look.”

A shy smile is what he gets in return, “What about you?”

Vander smirks at you, “I'll get my fill when the bar closes. That way you won't have to hold back your pretty moans.”

The large man then leaves the storage room and you're left there panting in satisfaction. You can't wait for the bar to close.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

SILCO

You and Silco have a give-and-take relationship. It’s worked well so far.

As a madame of a brothel, Silco ensures security is at your house— both for your girls and yourself. In return, you gift Silco multiple things.

The finest cigars, bourbon, and the greatest gift of all.

Yourself.

You're Silco’. No-one questions you. Not when you want into his office, not when you go places others are prohibited, not when you input your opinion on one of Silco’s plans.

It's especially apparent as Silco casually smokes his cigar as you enter his office in a blazing glory. All you get to your entrance is a quirked eyebrow.

“Where’s Allistar?” You snarl, your eyes blazing and hands clenched at your side. Silco sighs out a ring of smoke, “He’s guarding the club patrons.”

You roll your eyes and push your tongue into your cheek, “Get him up here. He hurt one of my girl and decided not to pay.”

All Silco does is nod once, calling Sevika over and whispers something to her. She looks at her boss, at you, and then silently leaves the office. In no time, the little weasel is inside The Eye of Zaun’s office, trembling.

Before he can do anything, you twirl one of your knives from their holster on your thigh and slash across his face; a nice clean cut from a corner of his forehead, across an eye, his lips, and to the opposite corner of his jaw.

A shout of pain is all that's heard in the silent office as you snarl, “That’s for hurting one of my girls! I'll make you hurt a lot more if you don't pay me my owed money.”

He scoffs at you, and you see red. In a flash, you've got him on his back, you've slammed your foot into his crotch, and you lean over, the tip of your knife digging into his throat.

His cries have turned into whimpers, you're quite certain you've popped one of his balls. Oh well.

He shakily pulls out a pouch of coins and hands them to you, “Thank you darling.” you say, your words a smooth purr.

Allistar just nods quietly before looking at Silco, who just sighs and states, “You may go now.”

He runs as fast as he can out the door. It's more like a frantic limp but you get the idea. The door slams behind the rat and the office is plunged into silence again.

You’re cleaning your blade casually before Silco calls your name. You look up and smirk at the sight. Silco looks hungry. His one blue eye darkened, his pupil overtaking his iris. His jaw is clenched and his hair is a bit messy, as if he was running his hand through it as you cleaned your knife.

He ushers you to him silently, a single crock of his fingers. You sashay to his side and your smirk widens when you see the substantial bulge in his pants.

“Oh Silco… did my violence excite you?”

“Get on your knees.”

You do so without hesitation.

In a few short moments, Silco’s cock is down your throat and his head is thrown back in pleasure.

“Fuck, look at you! A dangerous woman who most people in the Lanes fears, on her knees sucking my cock like one of her working girls. Such a whore for me.”

You moan around his cock, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

Silco chuckles at your reaction, “You like this. You like defiling yourself for me. You like being my personal cock sleeve.”

Your hips speed up on the tip of Silco’s shiny leather boots, and you shudder as you cum in your panties. You shove your head down until your nose is tickling the trimmed pubes at the base of Silco’s cock and swallow.

Silco groans deeply in his chest. A rumbly sound that makes you shiver as he cums deeply down your throat.

You pull away and inhale deeply, wiping your mouth and nose and you catch your breath. You sniff lightly as you put Silco's cock back into his pants. You crawl up from the floor and Silco kisses your cheek.

“So… should I be more violent in your presence?”

“You should just be in my presence more often.”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

EKKO

Being Ekko’s right hand woman as leader of the Firelights can be very difficult.

It can also be very rewarding.

When Ekko found out you saved not only your team of firelights but all the zaunites from the enforcers trying to cause trouble to illegally put them into Stillwater, he never loved you more.

Seeing you tired, dirty, and bruised caused an unintentional pulse in his cock. Oh no. No. No. No! This can't be! No!

Fuck you look amazing.

Knowing the reason why you're so dishevelled and seeing you so unbelievably gorgeous makes him want to drag you away to a random private room and give you all the pleasure you deserve.

He doesn't even let the firelight team debrief the mission, he doesn't hear anything as he drags you away to his room.

“Ekko! What's gotten into you?” You squeal, you voice light and full of confused happiness.

The handsome boy just stays quiet as he whips open his bedroom door, slams it, and locks it.

All the firelights look to one another before coming to the same conclusion. Leave those two alone for a while unless you want to be traumatized.

As your firelights warn one another, you and Ekko are just passionately making out. Grunts, groans, moans, and whines are all that’s heard in the room. Ekko pulls you desperately into his lap and ruts against your clothed sex. You whine loudly into his plush mouth.

“Ekko! Seriously, fuck what's gotten you so revved up?”

Ekko groans that you stopped his kisses, “You did. You're amazing, I'm so lucky you're mine and fuck you look so good.”

You go back to kissing and the rutting intensifies. You're tempered to strip down and get Ekko’s lovely cock inside you but the rutting is too good. The layers of clothes causing amazing pleasure to your pudgy clit and Ekko’s engorged cock.

You two paw one another like horny teens rather than young adults, but it feels too good to stop.

In no time you cum harshly into your pants, your underwear sticky and soaked to your sensitive pussy. Ekko groans deeply and you feel him rutt desperately into your pussy as he cums too.

The two of you pull away and pant deeply.

“Did that just happen?” You ask, tone full of disbelief. Ekko laughs and nods.

There's a small bitog silence between the two of you before you calmly state, “Can my team and I debrief you now?”

The look of embarrassment that crosses Ekko’s face makes you laugh so hard you snort, and Ekko punches you in the shoulder.

All you can hope is that the other firelights didn't hear you…

(they did. Oops.)

I hope y'all liked this! I accidentally made Vander’s longer than the others due to exposition. It was a bit hard to write for this many characters but I think I did well! Love ya xoxo ❤️

[sweet-as-an-angel]

König's Breeding Kink

Warnings: 18+, Smut, Unprotected Sex, Breeding Kink, Mentioned Lactation, Dirty Talk, Profanity, Fem! Reader.

“Going to breed you like the bitch you are,” König panted, his growl rivalled only by the sound of him sheathing his cock all the way inside you, a nice, long bump forming there as his tip nestled against your cervix. His balls, heavy and drooping with the weight of weeks’ worth of unspent seed, slapped the skin of your backside raw and red. He couldn’t help but pinch the skin there, only to hear you yelp and feel your body spasm around him, sucking him in deeper.

“God, look at you – practically milking me. So desperate for my cum, aren’t you?”

You couldn’t think straight. Not when your beast of a boyfriend seemed determined to make you cum so hard that you’d be seeing stars before the hour struck a new day. He had your leg hooked over his shoulder, desperate to get as deep as your body would allow. When you didn’t – couldn’t – answer him, König took your chin between his fingers, forcing you to look at him.

“Aren’t you,” he repeated. Between your moans and gasps for breath – the latter of which being knocked out of you – you nodded, whispering yes over and over again until König relinquished you, his hands coming to rest on your breasts. He squeezed them, hummed as he tilted his head back, massaging the plush beneath calloused hands.

“Can’t wait to see you dripping with milk, Liebling,” he muttered, more to himself than anything. “Can’t wait to taste you.”

You were always so close. So close to unravelling and being reduced to your most base, carnal instincts, becoming nothing more than an incubator for the behemoth between your legs, destined to be bred and fucked dumb for as long as you could stand.

“Don’t worry, Schatz,” König reassured. “I won’t stop until it takes.”

He looked down at you, eyes ice yet possessing a warmth he held only for you. He reached down, pressed an uncoordinated kiss to your lips. His breath fanned your face, uneven. “We have the whole night to ourselves.”

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

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[milla-frenchy]

Harry

502 words | Harry Castillo x fem reader | ao3 | Masterlist Summary: you meet the perfect guy, and things become intimate Warnings: 18+ mdni. Meet cute, f!oral (Harry eats it from the back), rimming, anal play, praise kink, piv. No age specified 

a/n: drabble for the trope search @jolacheese (anal play) Thank you @aurorawritestoescape for being my sweetheart, and for beta-ing me💕🫶 dividers @/saradika-graphics 🙏

The first time you saw him, it was at the Tribeca Film Festival. You were there for business. He was wearing a black suit, an emerald ring shining around his finger. You smiled at each other.

The second time, you were reading a book on a bench, in a park. He was jogging. You smiled again when he passed by you.

The third time was in a restaurant.

“Third time we meet,” he said, eyes so soft you wished you could drown in them. “That's a sign, isn't it?”  He gave you his card, told you to call or text him if you wished. Harry Castillo.

Your first date was in a restaurant.

His brown eyes were beautiful, his smile devastating. Wearing a black sweater and pants, all casual but the clothes were fitting his body perfectly. He invited you for a nightcap, and pressed you against the wall leading to his bedroom. When he kissed you, his hands roaming over your body so sensually, you knew you were screwed.

Several dates and weeks later, you were on your elbows and knees, ass tilted back in his $12 million penthouse, with the most beautiful view in front of you. But you didn't care about it. 

You couldn't think about anything else but his hands on your hips, and his cock pushing into your cunt. 

Once or twice, he pulled out and ate you from the back. Pussy first, his nose brushing against your ass so perfectly, his big hands keeping you open for him. 

Your ring, then. Making you stifle a cry into his satin sheets, as he lapped at it, softing its resistance. Then he darted at it with the tip of his tongue.

He straightened up and thrusted in again, slowly. Your wet, tight pussy was taking him perfectly, and little groans escaped his throat.

He wasn't in a rush. He loved to fuck you slowly, deeply. Loved to lean towards you, covering your back with his broad chest without leaving your heat. Seizing your chin with two fingers to kiss you. 

Loved to feed your cunt his whole length, again and again, his hands holding your hips as if they were molded for it. 

He slid his hand to your ass and spread your cheeks to reveal your tight ring, still glistening with his saliva. Brushed it with his middle finger, spreading the wetness a little, then replaced it with his thumb. He didn't push, at first. He just kept his finger there, feeling you throb under his skin.

He kept fucking you, slowly, deeply.

His knuckle slightly passed the barrier that was eager to let him in now.

“You're gonna come for me, baby?” he asked, his voice low and soft as velvet. “I can feel how much you love it, having my thumb right here, right where you need it.”

You whined, unable to answer. Your moans got weaker and weaker until you clenched on his shaft, listening to his praise.

Harry Castillo. 

Yeah, you were screwed.

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Thank you for reading 🙏

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated ❤️

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[cntloup]

Ex-Husband!Simon HCs

MDNI Fem!Reader slight NSFW

He still checks up on you regularly, making sure you're living comfortably and in peace. He tells you that you can count on him with anything you may need; you need someone to pick you up, grocery shopping, repairs, absolutely anything. He's just one call away.

He gives you some information and phone numbers; who to call in case something happens when he's on deployment. He constantly worries for your safety. He has installed a security system in your home and taught you how it works.

If you have kids, he picks them up three times a week and takes them hiking and teaches them about nature and tips on how to survive there, if they're old enough. But if they're younger, they go to amusement parks or spend the day at his home with coloring books (Simon's face and sleeve tattoos) and play-fighting. Then he brings them back to you with permanent marker stains on his face and glitter all over him as you try to stifle a laugh.

His heart shatters if he hears that you're with someone else, but he maintains a calm and collected exterior so as not to upset you, also he knows that it's not his place to mention his opinion. So he tries to pick up the pieces alone again and again...

He's always a shoulder to cry on if you ever need one. Or if a situation makes you nervous and you need someone by your side, he's always there for you. He takes you to all your doctor appointments if you ask him and stays with you until it's finished. If anyone ever tries anything with you or disrespects you, they answer to him.

He always opens the doors for you and helps you with the stuff on the top shelves. And if you both reach for something at the same time, your hands touching, his touch lingers, eyes burning with longing and deep sorrow as he glances at you.

He kept all the photos you sent him when he was gone on deployments. He palms his aching throbbing cock through his sweatpants as he looks at your dirty photos through half-lidded eyes. The photos which you both took together, or you took alone while touching your pretty pussy which was weeping for his thick veiny cock.

He jerks off to the thought of your soft lovely lips wrapped around his length or your tight warm walls engulfing him, your moaned-out name falling from his lips as he spills his warm sticky cum in his palm.

He feels you're so incredibly close, yet so devastatingly far. Several times, he came close to saying that he still loves you only to back out at the last moment.

He spends most of his nights reminiscing all his memories of you and shedding tears of despair as he stares at your wedding photos and listens to your voicemails over and over again with a half-empty bottle of whiskey in hand, thinking of what could have been.

comments/reblogs are greatly appreciated ♥ 

[krirebr]

Luck Be a Lady

Pairing: soft!dark Curtis Everett x female reader

Word Count: ~10.1k

Summary: Desperate for money, you accept a job as a cocktail waitress at an underground casino. You think you know what you're doing, but when you meet Curtis, will you realize you're in over your head?

Warnings: Mob AU, violence, allusions to murder, explicit language, dubcon touching, noncon touching (not Curtis), willfully oblivious reader, SMUT - facefucking, dirty talk, light d/s dynamics, praise kink, other explicit sexual content. This is definitely on the darker end of the soft!dark spectrum, so proceed with caution! All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by @thecutestgrotto

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A/N: And here it finally is! This is my first real attempt at soft!dark. I hope I did it right! 😂

This was inspired by two things: 1) me going to a rep screening of Goodfellas and spending the entire time wondering why I hadn't done a mob au yet and 2) @bigtreefest saying "enforcer!Curtis Everett and mob boss!Andy Barber" in my general direction. Thanks for the inspo, friend!!

And big thanks as always to @paperweight91 who not only came up with Curtis's name for reader but also offered heaps of encouragement and was a great sounding board. And thanks to @stargazingfangirl18 for helping me figure out how exactly we'd get to the smut. Thanks Siri!

Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. Please come scream at me about this! 😄 As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜

You fruitlessly tug down your very short skirt as Holly talks at you. You’re both standing in the corner of the bar’s basement waiting for the night to start in earnest—your first night.

“Lloyd’s not so bad,” she says of your boss, the man who runs this little underground gambling ring. “You’ll have to split your tips with him at the end of the night, but he doesn’t take that much, and you’ll make enough that you won’t really notice. As long as you do that, he’ll mostly keep his hands to himself.”

You nod along, glancing at the mustachioed man conferring with the bouncer at the door. The interview process for this job had boiled down to a thorough once-over that’d made you feel naked in your jeans and t-shirt and a “You’re not too stupid to take a drink order, are you?” and then you had the job.

Holly had vouched for you. Neighbors for almost half a year, she’d come home early one morning last week and witnessed you trying to convince the landlord that you were good for your past-due rent. She’d taken you for coffee and told you she might be able to help if you were good at keeping your head down and mouth shut. And now you were here.

“The customers, on the other hand,” she continues, smacking her gum, “you’ll have to let them touch, at least a little bit. Within reason, you know? But if anything gets out of hand, you can just tell Jake at the door and he’ll take care of it.”

“Within reason?” you ask, voice shaking, just the littlest bit, as the pit that started forming in your stomach when you agreed to this grows a little more.

The look she gives you verges on exasperated. “Well, you want to make money, don’t you?”

Yes, you do. Very much so. It’s a need, not a want. So you nod and try to listen as she keeps giving you the rundown. 

Before you’re ready, the first patrons start trickling in and then you’re off to the races. It’s not too bad. No one’s orders are too complicated, mostly just bottles of beer and glasses of straight whiskey. The bartender, Colin, is friendly enough, although you learn that he’s another person you’ll need to split your tips with. 

As for the touching, there are hands on your hips, pats to your ass. But you’re rewarded with folded-up bills held up between fingers or tucked into the strap of your top. Or, twice, slid behind the waistband of your skirt. Once you realize that the majority of these bills aren’t ones or fives, but twenties, you care about the touching that comes with them much less. Plus, you’re too busy to really think about it that hard. 

You can’t believe how busy it is for a random Tuesday night, multiple games of poker, craps, and who knows what else all going at once. But when you mention that to Holly, she just laughs and shakes her head. “This is nothing,” she says. “On the weekends there’ll be three more of us and another one of Jake. Things get wild.” 

You don’t have time to decide whether that makes you nervous or excited before someone is signaling for your attention again. You manage to suppress your grimace when he slides his arm around your waist to tell you what he needs from the bar. You’re rewarded for your troubles by a wad of twenties. You aren’t sure who these men are to tip so freely, but you know better than to look a gift horse in the mouth.

It’s an hour or two later that Lloyd calls you over to where he’s speaking to a large, impossibly broad man, dressed in a soft-looking henley under a leather jacket with dark jeans. There’s dark ink all over his hands that disappears up his sleeves and reappears on his neck in intricate lines. He’s got close-cropped hair and a full beard that’s neatly trimmed. His deep blue eyes drill into you right away and you do your best not to shiver.

“Got a new girl tonight, Everett. Still learning the ropes, but she’ll take good care of you, won’t you, Cupcake?” 

“Yes, of course,” you say, before Lloyd wanders off to check on one of the poker games.

The man, Everett, lets his eyes rove over you. “Cupcake, huh?” His voice is deep, gritty, but there's something there that's much gentler than you expected.

You give him what you hope is a coy smile. “Sure. If you want.” Lloyd was treating him like he's important. You hope important means deep pockets.

He hits you with a penetrative stare, so strong you almost have to take a step back. “No,” he finally says. “I don't think so. I'll find something more fitting.” Then he turns and starts to walk away, before calling over his shoulder. “I'm gonna get dealt in. Bring me a whiskey once I'm settled.”

You watch him go for just a moment, and then head to the bar, asking for a whiskey. 

“This for Everett?” the bartender, Colin, asks. When you nod, he grabs a fancy bottle off the top shelf. “This is all he drinks. And he doesn't pay for it, alright? Don't ever think about giving him a bill.” 

You look back at the man in question, seriously looking at the cards he’s just been dealt. Who is he???

You collect his whiskey and move back to him. As you set it down, he turns to you. “How about this?” he asks as he holds up a crisply folded hundred-dollar bill between two fingers. Your eyes widen at the money. All you’ve done is bring him one straight pour. “There’s another one of these in it for you if you make sure I never see the bottom of this glass tonight. Sound good?” And then he folds the bill one more time in his thick fingers, before sliding it under the low-cut neckline of your blouse. Your skin tingles where he brushes against it.

“Yeah, you got it,” you just breathe out, a little shocked you’re able to form words. He gives you a smug smile that you can only describe as shark-like before turning back to his cards, and you understand it as the dismissal that it is. 

You move around the room, collecting empties, getting refills, trying to goodnaturedly accept unsolicited touches. The whole time you feel eyes on you, but whenever you glance Everett’s way, he’s focused on his poker game.

Eventually, a down moment finds you catching your breath against the wall. The moment Holly sees you standing still, she’s quickly making her way to you. “You need to be more careful around Curtis,” she hisses, lowly.

You look at her, confused. “Curtis?” Jake’s at the door. Colin’s behind the bar. You don’t know a Curtis.

“Curtis Everett!” You glance at the man at the poker table. He’s running a poker chip across his knuckles mindlessly. Then he looks up and you briefly make eye contact before you quickly look away. Holly is staring at you and she looks worried. But the name still doesn’t mean anything to you, so you shake your head and shrug. She groans as quietly as she can. “He’s Barber’s top enforcer!”

This whole conversation feels so out of the blue that it takes you a minute to catch up. Barber. Andrew Barber. The most feared mob boss in the city. Probably the state. Maybe even more. Ruthless and exacting was how the papers described him. He’d been the subject of multiple stings and taskforces and whathaveyou but nothing ever stuck. “He works for Andrew Barber?” you ask, shocked and a little appalled.

Holly stares at you in a way that you can only describe as dumbfounded. It takes her a few moments to find her words, then, “Bitch, you work for Andrew Barber!”

Everything stops. “What?” you gasp.

“Oh my god,” Holly groans. “This was such a mistake. It’s an underground card game in his city! Who did you think was running things?”

“I– I don’t know,” you stutter, stupidly. The god’s honest truth is that you’d never really stopped to think about it. You’d been staring down an eviction, struggling to afford groceries. Unable to make ends meet no matter what you did. When Holly told you about this job, all you saw were dollar signs. You didn't think about anything further. Of course, you’d known these games were illegal, but it seemed so minor in the grand scheme of things. You hadn’t connected it to anything bigger because you just hadn’t wanted to.

But now– Now that you know the truth, what are you going to do? You know what you should do. You should walk out the door right now. You should find some other legitimate way to pay your bills. It’ll be safer. It’ll be better. It’ll be so much harder.

As you bite your lip, trying to process all of this information, Holly continues. “Listen,” she says, “still get him drinks, be friendly, whatever you need to do. But keep your distance however you can. Don't encourage him. He's just– He's really dangerous. They don't call him Barber’s attack dog for nothing, ok?”

“Yeah,” you say. You start to look back in Curtis’s direction but stop yourself. You think about the hundred you already have and the one promised to you at the end of the night. You think of how empty your pantry is. But then you see the genuine fear in Holly's eyes. You let out a shaky breath. “Yeah. I got it. Thanks.”

“He doesn't even come in here that often. I'm surprised to see him tonight, so I'm sure it’ll be fine,” she says, but you can tell she’s nervous.

You nod, absently, finally letting yourself glance over at him. His drink is getting close to the bottom. “Shit,” you mumble. “I gotta get him his refill.”

“Do you want me to do it?” Holly asks. 

You should let her do it. You absolutely should. But you just can’t give up on that tip. You shake your head. “No, I’ll be fine. But thanks.”

You head back to the bar and grab Curtis’s top-shelf whiskey of choice from Colin, then make your way to his table. You set it down next to him, hoping to move away without him even noticing, he’s so engrossed in the game. But as you take a step back, his hand shoots out to grab your wrist. He holds it tightly until you meet his eyes. “Good girl,” he murmurs, and you can’t help the sharp intake of breath or the way you feel his words in your knees. He strokes his thumb down the inside of your wrist, then abruptly lets go, pushing his chips to the middle of the table. You step away, gathering yourself as subtly as you can, and get back to work.

The rest of the night goes quickly. The crowd gets a little rowdier as they drink more, but you find that it’s nothing you can’t handle. The reality of who these people are, what they’re connected to, never leaves your mind. But really, they’re not so bad. None of this feels so bad at all. And soon, people start heading out. You’re beginning to clean up, when a recognizable voice rings out, “Bambi!” You turn and lock eyes with Curtis. He crooks two fingers at you and you quickly make your way over to him.

“Bambi?” you ask.

He grins at you and it feels more than a little predatory. You’ll never admit how much you like it. You try to keep Holly’s warning at the forefront of your mind. “Wide eyes and just getting your legs under you,” he says. You instinctively duck your head at that, which earns a dark chuckle. “Here,” he continues, as he pulls a genuine, fat money clip out of his back pocket. You’ve never seen something like it in real life before. He peels off two bills and holds them out to you. “This is what good girls get,” he says, a low rumble in his voice.

You swallow as you take them from him. Two hundred dollars. Twice what you were expecting. “Thank you,” you say quietly. 

He shakes his head. “You earned it.” Then, after one last long look at you, he turns around and leaves.

You stand and stare after him. You don’t doubt anything Holly said, but three hundred dollars, just for bringing him drinks. He doesn’t seem that bad, not really. A little intense maybe, but there’s some sort of interest there, and it can’t be that bad to encourage it, just a little if it earns you these sorts of tips, can it??

Any hesitance you have about this entire endeavor completely disappears as you count your money at the end of the night.

Your first week flies by. You're starting to get the hang of the job. You get along with your coworkers. You get to know the regulars. You like it. Even Lloyd isn’t so bad as long as you give him his cut at the end of every night.

And you’re making so much money.

In your downtime, you pay your landlord what you owe him. You go grocery shopping without scouring for coupons first or calculating exactly what you can afford beforehand. You make a Pinterest board of what you want your apartment to look like now that you might actually be able to buy things to fill it. For the very first time, you’re thinking about things you actually want, not just desperately trying to figure out how you’ll pay your bills. You’ve never felt this calm, this relaxed, this free before. It’s an incredible feeling.

And Curtis. Despite Holly’s reassurances that you wouldn’t see him much, he seems to be there whenever you are, trying to capitalize on his winning streak at the poker tables, you assume. His tips are still insanely generous. You don’t think he carries anything less than hundred dollar bills. 

And there’s just something about him. The way he looks at you. The way he touches you. It’s not like the other men here. His touch is like fire, warming from the inside. There’ve been times when his hand on your hip has almost made your knees buckle. That doesn’t happen with anyone else here.

But you’re being smart and you’re being safe. You are. You’re going to set a savings goal, you think. And once you hit that number, you’ll be out of here, onto something more legitimate. And until then, you’ll just keep your head down and mouth shut, like Holly said. You haven’t even really seen anything. It’s a good plan. It’ll be fine.

She’s right that the weekends are wilder. Even with three additional girls working the room, you’re kept running. You do your best to keep an eye on Curtis’s drinks, but it’s much harder than on weeknights. And you aren’t really able to pause when you drop them off. It’s one of these times, as you’re pulling away from the table as soon as you’ve set his glass down, that you’re stopped short by his hand on you. He pulls you back in by the wrist and says, “They’re just running you ragged tonight, huh, Bambi?”

You smile and shrug. “It’s busy.”

He holds out a bill and you try not to smile even wider as he slips it into the waistband of your skirt. “For all your hard work.”

You bat your lashes a little. “You spoil me.”

“I like spoiling you,” he says, lowly. 

“You’re too sweet,” you say softly. Then, pulling your arm away with a wink, you add, “Gotta run,” and you’re onto the next table.

You’re getting good at this, figuring out what level of harmless flirting is just enough to keep the money flowing. And you’re having fun. You’d never expected that.

Holly and two of the other girls, Jane and Kristi, are congregated at the end of the bar, waiting for drinks, when you join them. They’re all watching you warily. “So, uh,” Jane starts quietly, “you seem to be getting pretty cozy with Curtis.” 

Before you can respond, Holly scoffs behind her. “I’ve tried to warn her but she won’t fucking listen.”

You roll your eyes. You’re tired of hearing this. “I seriously don’t get what the big deal is. He’s nice and he tips well. It’s harmless!”

Kristi just gapes at you. “He’s nice?!”

Holly slams the drinks she was waiting for onto her tray. “Whatever,” she grumbles. “It’s her fucking funeral.”

You shake your head as you watch her go. It’s fine. You can take care of yourself.

The rest of the night goes by in a blur. You don’t get much of a chance to talk to Curtis, but you feel his eyes on you before he disappears a little before closing.

At the end of the night, once you’ve helped clean up, you cash out with Colin and Jake and then go to find Lloyd in his office. You think it’s kind of ridiculous that you’re basically paying him to work there, but it is what it is. And Holly was right, you’re making so much that you barely even notice. 

Lloyd is sitting at his desk, looking a little more disheveled than you’re used to. He startles at your approach, which is also new. 

“Oh, hey,” he says, with slightly rounded eyes. “What can I do for you?”

You look at him, a little confused. “Just here with your cut,” you say as you hold out his money.

His hands immediately fly up to his chest, palms out. “No, no,” he says. “You made that fair and square. You just– you keep what you make from now on, Cupcake. Sound good?”

You swallow and nod, preparing yourself for whatever other price you’ll have to pay for keeping your job, mentally calculating what you’re willing to do. But Lloyd doesn’t do anything, doesn’t make any move to get closer to you. Just stays there at his desk, turning back to his work. “You have a good night,” he says, clearly dismissing you. 

You leave confused, but richer, telling yourself not to question it too hard.

Things go so smoothly for a few weeks that you’re a little shocked when the bubble bursts. 

It’s a relatively quiet weeknight. There are a few games going, but nothing compared to the weekend. The pace of the night feels leisurely. It’s nice.

It’s maybe the first night you haven’t seen Curtis there. It feels weird. He’s become such a part of this place for you. A fixture, like the bar or the carpet. Just one of the elements that make it what it is. But it’s fine. Of course, he doesn’t come every night. He probably has a whole life outside of this. He must’ve gotten bored of playing cards. Oh well. It was nice while it lasted.

You’re passing the time talking to one of the regulars at the bar, Vinny. He’s in his fifties, you think, with gray hair and laugh lines. He’d gone bust at the poker table (or maybe it was craps tonight) earlier and then had moved to the bar to drink away his sorrows and bad luck. That was how his nights tended to go.

He’s sitting on a barstool, his arm around your waist where you stand next to him. He’s a little close for comfort, but he’s always just been a friendly guy, so you’re alright. Which is why you’re so surprised when, in the middle of a story about the good old days of the Copa Cabana, his other hand suddenly finds its way between your thighs. You freeze. For just a second. Then you force out a laugh and try to push his hand away. “Bad boy,” you try to tease, your voice shaking. His hand will not move. What is happening? “Come on, let’s keep our hands to ourselves.”

Instead of doing what you’ve asked, his thumb briefly brushes the inside of your leg and then his whole hand begins moving higher. You stop breathing. You push again but he won’t budge.

“You’re such a pretty doll, aren’tcha?” he says. 

Tears start to gather in your eyes. You look around wildly to see if anyone’s noticing what’s happening. Colin’s busy making drinks. Jake and Lloyd are talking by the door. Everyone else is engrossed in their own business. “Vinnie, stop, please,” you whisper. You don’t know why you can’t get your voice to work, can’t get your body to move.

“Come on,” he cajoles, “I’m being nice, aren’t I?” 

Then his thumb brushes against your panties and your entire body jolts into action. You wrench your leg out of his grasp and take several steps away from him. Your whole body is shaking now. “I gotta–” you start, trying to keep your tone casual and failing miserably. “I gotta get back to work, Vinny.” Then you grab your tray off the bartop and walk away as fast as you can.

You don’t really have a destination in mind. You pick up a few empties as you wander between tables. You can feel his eyes on you, following you. You try to take a deep breath, calm yourself down. It isn’t very helpful. You look up to see Jake by himself now. You make your way over to him, Holly’s words on your first night in your ears. That was out of hand, wasn’t it?

He looks up as you approach. His big golden retriever smile on his face. “Hey, what’s up?” Then he actually takes you in and his smile drops. “What happened?”

“Um, Vinny, he, uh–” You feel a few tears fall down your cheeks and you just shake your head.

Jake’s face darkens. “Did he hurt you?” 

“No, uh, he– he just–” You shake your head again. “No, he didn’t hurt me.”

Jake doesn’t say anything for a moment, just looks at you. There’s something about the way he does it that makes you think he understands everything you just can’t say. He nods once. “Alright. I’ll take care of it. You go take your time in the back. Do what you need to do. He’ll be gone by the time you’re done.”

You let out a shaky breath. “Okay, thank you,” you say so quietly. Then you get yourself to the back room as quickly as you can.

It’s really more of a hallway than a room, small and narrow. All of the storage space for the building is in the legitimate bar upstairs. But there’s enough room for you to crouch down, your knees pulled up tight to your chin. You bury your face in your thighs and let the tears you’ve been holding in finally fall. You’re okay. You’re okay. You’re safe. You’re fine. 

You don’t know how long you’ve spent trying to calm yourself down when a large shadow suddenly looms over you. It takes you a moment to gather your strength to find out who it is. You hope it’s Jake telling you Vinny’s gone. You’re afraid it might be Lloyd, here to tell you to get back to work. There’s a slowly building terror that it might be Vinny himself.

After a deep breath, you look up to find Curtis staring down at you, concern on his face and fiery anger in his eyes. “What happened?” he growls.

You shake your head and turn away. He crouches down in front of you. “Are you alright?”

A humorless, uncontrolled laugh escapes you. Once you finally stop, you ignore his question and ask your own, “Why are you here?”

It takes him a very long time to answer. He just looks at you seriously for several moments. Then, finally, “Jake called me.” While you try to figure out why on earth Jake would do that, he continues, “I'm sorry I wasn’t already here.”

“Why?” you blurt out without thinking. 

He looks away without saying anything. You both just sit in the silence for a few moments. Then, you try to change tactics. “Where were you?” you ask out of morbid curiosity. You can't imagine what his life is like outside of here.

“Working,” he says curtly. He plays with a ring on his middle finger and the movement draws your eyes to his hands, specifically his knuckles. They're scraped and caked with dried blood. 

You swallow and you catch how his eyes track the movement. His eyes are always on you. He catches everything. 

“Someone touched you?”

“Lots of people touch me,” you say, flatly. “It's part of the job. You touch me.”

His eyes narrow at that. “But this was different.” It isn’t a question.

You look down at your hands in your lap and don't say anything. 

“Tell me who it was.”

“No,” you say instinctively, something about the moment feeling incredibly dangerous. 

He huffs in frustration. “Are you trying to protect him?”

“No!” you say, sharply. “I’m protecting myself.”

“You don’t have to do that. Not from me. Not ever.”

You don’t know how to tell him that every atom in you knows that that isn’t true. You can’t explain it, and it wasn’t until the moment he joined you in this little closet, but you’d swear that he’s a danger to you. You just can't articulate how, but you feel it in your bones. And still, here you stay.

At your silence, he grits out, “If you don’t tell me who it was, Jake will.”

Jake probably already has, that’s what you’ve figured. “Great,” you say. “Then you don’t need me to say it.”

“Bambi,” he lets out in an exasperated growl. “I'm trying to help you.” 

You just look at him and then figure you may as well ask the main question that's on your mind. “Why did Jake call you?” 

He ignores you and stands up. “Come on,” he says and extends his hand, “I'm taking you home.”

You just blink up at him. “My shift isn't over.” 

He shakes his hand at you impatiently. “It is now. Come on.”

You shake your head. “Curtis, this is my job. I can't just– Lloyd will–”

“I'll take care of Lloyd. Let’s go.”

You think about going home. About sitting alone in your small apartment. At least here you'll have something to do, things to focus on, to keep you busy. At home, there'll be nothing to think about other than that hand between your legs and– “No,” you say as firmly as you can manage. “I'm staying here. I'm finishing the night.”

His jaw ticks but he doesn’t say anything, just tries to stare you down. You stare right back. You will not concede this. 

Finally, he exhales through his nostrils, then growls out an unhappy “Fine. But I'll–” He's interrupted by his phone ringing in his pocket. He takes it out and glances at the caller ID and sighs. “I have to take this.” He steps away as much as he can in the tiny area and answers with a curt “Everett.” There's a slight pause. “Yeah, I took care of it.” Another pause that has him glancing at you. “No, something else came up.”

You don't wait to hear the rest of the conversation. You take the opportunity to go back to the main room and get back to work. 

You don't see Curtis again that night. You don't spare much thought to where he might've gone. You're too focused on getting through the remainder of your shift. When it's done, Jake insists on seeing you home. You don't ask why. You already know who's behind it.

The next few days are fine. You try to put what happened behind you, doing your best to ignore it. But that becomes impossible when three days after the incident you watch Vinny walk in. You can’t help the little burst of panic you feel as you warily watch him sit down at his usual table and get dealt in. 

As subtly as you can, you make your way over to Jake. You don’t even say anything before he’s looking at you, chagrined. “I know,” he says. “I’m sorry, but I had to let him in. I promise it’s all going to be taken care of. It’s just– You can ignore him tonight, ok? Just trust me. You don’t need to worry about him. I promise.”

“Ok,” you say reluctantly, trying to resist looking back at Vinny. “I just– I didn’t think I’d have to see him again.”

“I really think that after tonight you won’t,” he says sincerely.

You don’t really understand what that means, but you nod anyway. “Ok,” you say. “I, uh, I should get back to work then.” 

He just nods after you, looking a little concerned and a little sad. But the room is filling up, so you don’t have time to delve into it.

Sometime later, as you’re taking a brief moment to idle by the bar, a strange hush descends over the room. You’re facing away from the door, away from the rest of the room, but you see Colin take in whatever it is that’s caused this. His face pales and he lets out a quiet, urgent, “Shit.” 

You turn around to see what on earth could be going on and you immediately freeze. Curtis is here. But that’s not what’s garnering all of this attention. Well, not all. Because he’s not alone, there’s a man with him. A little shorter, not quite as broad. But you’d be able to feel the power radiating off of him, even if you didn’t recognize him. Soft dark hair, thick beard, an immaculately tailored suit. You’ve seen him in the papers, on the news, but in real life, he’s even more intimidating. Andrew Barber.

Barber leans in close to say something to Curtis, who nods, eyes scanning the room until they land on you. Your breath catches, but luckily Colin calls your name behind you and you have an excuse to turn around. He places two glasses of dark liquor on the bar. “Everett,” he says, gesturing to one, then “Barber,” while waving his hand over the other. “Got it?” You nod and place them on your tray. They’re identical to your eyes except for the fact that Barber's has a muddled black cherry at the bottom of the glass.

You carefully bring them over, trying to force yourself to breathe. Curtis intercepts you and grabs the drinks when you're a few steps away. “Thank you, Bambi,” he says, lowly. 

Barber perks up. “This is Bambi? Really?” He extends a hand and you have no choice but to take it. “Andy Barber,” he says with a disarming smile. “It's a pleasure to meet you finally.”

His handshake is firm, demanding. He is terrifying in his friendliness. And he knows who you are. Has known, for who knows how long. You glance at Curtis, but he's just calmly drinking his whiskey. You don't know what to say, what are you supposed to say?? So after too long a pause, you practically whisper, “Thank you, Mr. Barber.”

He chuckles lightly as he takes back his hand. To Curtis, he says, “You're right, Bambi does suit her.” Then he turns back to you and adds, “Andy, please.”

“O– Okay, Andy,” you say, with what you desperately hope is a benign smile. You look over at Curtis, you’re not entirely sure why, but out of these two dangerous options, he, at least, is familiar. “I should get back to work.”

Curtis is staring at you, but it’s Andy who answers. “Mmm, and we have a game to join, don’t we?” Curtis nods but still doesn’t break his gaze. Andy smirks, “No rest for the wicked.”

You have no idea what to do with that sentiment, so you take the opportunity and get out of there. You walk through the tables, checking to see if anyone needs anything, but the mob boss’s physical presence seems to have ground all action to a halt. The room is collectively holding its breath. 

You go back to the bar for want of anything else to do. Colin is standing ramrod straight, coiled in case he needs to spring into action. Lloyd is sitting down at the end of the bar, drumming his fingers, eyes moving all around the room. You settle next to Holly, who looks just as scared as she did that first night when she was trying to warn you off of Curtis. “Is this,” you start to ask, your voice shaking. “Is this normal? Does he come here a lot?”

“No, never” she shakes her head. “Why would he come here? He has real clubs and restaurants. He doesn’t need to hang out in a shit hole like this.” She shakes her head again. “He’d only come here for a reason.”

You turn your head back to the room and find that Andy and Curtis have settled at Vinny’s table, joining his game across from him. Your heart lands in your throat. That can’t– No. You’re just some cocktail waitress. Even with Curtis’s obvious interest in you, you aren’t important enough to bring the most powerful man in the city here. You’re nothing. He must have other reasons.

The room is quiet enough to hear a pin drop as everyone waits for something to happen, which is why when Andy does start speaking, you don’t have to strain your ears to pick up every word.

He looks at his cards carefully, then over at Vinny. “You know, Vinny, you’re a hard man to track down.” His voice is so calm, it sends a chill up your spine. “You don’t go home, we can’t find you at work. I was starting to get worried.” He runs a few chips through his fingers before tossing them into the center of the felt. “That’s why, when I heard you were showing up here, I sent my best man to investigate,” he nods towards Curtis, “just to make sure you were ok.” 

You don’t have a great view of Vinny from where you’re standing, but you can see how stiff he is, how silent. But he still calls when it’s his turn.

“You can imagine my relief when I found out you were alright. Except,” he raises again, a few more chips into the pot, “you’re losing a lot of money, aren’t you? Now, this upsets me. Not because you’re losing your own money. But because it’s mine, isn’t it?”

Vinny finally tries to pipe up. “Andy, hold on. I can ex–”

“You owe me $150,000, Vinny. With interest, that total’s climbing every day. And yet, you sit here and you just keep losing, don’t you? At my own game. What would you do if you won, huh? Would you really try paying me back with my own money? I thought maybe you’d at least have the smarts to cross the border and try this at one of Roger’s casinos. Huh? Paying me back with my enemy’s money, at least that I could respect. But no, it’s only me you think is stupid enough to fall for your bullshit. So now I’m here to give you the chance to fucking do it to my face.” With that, he violently pushes all of his chips into the center of the table. 

Everyone else has folded. It’s just Barber and Vinny now. You’re not sure Curtis even actually played. He’s just staring Vinny down, although occasionally his eyes will flick up and meet yours. You hate feeling like you’re a part of this, but you don’t know what else to do besides watch it play out.

Vinny is just spluttering, while Andy calmly looks on. It’s all the expected, cliche stuff you’ve seen in gangster movies. He’s got the money, he swears. He just needs a little more time. Andy has to know he’s good for it! You want to roll your eyes right along with Andy.

“Call, Vinny,” Andy cuts him off, sternly. “That’s $150,000 I just put in the pot. Call. And if you win, we’re even. Your debt’s erased. But if you lose, well then that’s $300,000 you’ll owe me. And you know I won’t be able to tolerate that. So call. And let’s find out where we stand.”

You can’t see what Vinny’s doing, but you can imagine the way his fingers must be hovering over his chips, his eyes moving down to his cards to check, one more time, if they’re as good or bad as he remembers. You know there’s no way out for him either way. He’ll have to call. He’s just delaying the inevitable.

You feel like you can't breathe as you wait for him to just finally do it, but Andy cuts in again. “The thing I can't understand, Vinny, is why you kept coming here after Curtis showed up. Either you're very stupid or really fucking greedy.” He looks at Vinny carefully. “Maybe a little of both. I hear you've been touching something that doesn't belong to you.”

You gasp. No one notices, but you do. He can't be talking about you. He can't. He can't. 

Vinny seems even more confused than you. “What are you talking about? I haven't touched anything!”

Andy continues to ignore him. “So you're stupid and greedy. That's why you aren't afraid of him like you should be. They call him my attack dog, did you know? Have you heard that? Maybe that’s the problem. Maybe you think he’s some puppy that follows me around. You’d be stupid to underestimate him, underestimate me. But maybe you only do that because you've never seen my dog off his leash.”

Curtis springs into action, lunging across the table to grab Vinny by the collar, and then slams his head into the felt. Before there’s even time to react, he’s stood and he's picking Vinny back up and hurling him onto the floor. Curtis comes around the table to stalk after him and the look on his face has you gasping for breath. You've never seen Curtis like this. There's a glint in his eye that might be the scariest thing you've ever seen. Who is this man? What is he capable of?

Vinny is dazedly trying to crawl away, but Curtis catches him easily. He grabs Vinny’s collar and hauls him back up, delivering two punches to his face in quick succession. The sound it makes. There's no other sound in the whole room. No one's saying anything, no one's doing anything. Everyone's just watching, hypnotized. You turn away, your stomach churning. Your eyes catch on Andy, sitting back in his chair, placidly drinking the whiskey you brought him, completely relaxed, like he's watching anything else. You can't look at him either. 

The room is completely silent except for the crunching of bones, Vinny’s whimpers, and Curtis’s grunts. You look up again to be startled by eye contact with Curtis. His eyes are wild, unhinged. Feral. But there's something else in it, like all of this is for you. That all of you are there, everything is happening, because Vinny dared to touch you. It takes your breath away. It’s mesmerizing.

Andy finally stands and strides over to where Curtis is holding Vinny up in the middle of the room. He looks down at Vinny, then spits in his face. “I'm tired of trying to draw blood from a stone,” he says. Then he turns to Curtis and finishes, “Get rid of him.”

Curtis gives you one last long look, his face unreadable. You feel it in your knees. Then he drags Vinny out, leaving a bloody trail behind him.

The moment they're gone, it's like the entire room can breathe again. “Lloyd,” Andy calls out. “How ‘bout a round for everyone? On me.”

Lloyd nods to Colin who hurriedly starts pouring drinks. And you, so grateful for something to do, instead of just standing there, shaking, start loading the glasses on your tray.

As you begin to pass them out, Andy of all people, pulls you aside. “Bambi,” he says quietly, “I hope you know now, we take care of our own.”

You gaze at him, shocked. It feels like a comfort and a threat. But why? It's not so much the implication that this all had something to do with you, but you can't for the life of you imagine what you've done to get yourself to a place where Andy Barber might consider you his, however distantly. It can't just be that you work here. You can't picture him doing something similar for Holly or Colin. Once again, this all feels so incredibly dangerous. 

While you're struggling to come up with anything to say to that, he grabs a drink off your tray and downs it quickly. Then, with a wink, he turns and leaves. You’re left staring after him until someone calls after you and you're scrambling to pass out drinks again. 

The night ends quickly. No one seems eager to stay and drink and play after everything that's happened. Not when there's still blood on the floor.

You do what you can to help clean up, but when you stare at the stain helplessly, Lloyd tells you not to worry about it. He's got a guy.

Colin walks out with you so you aren’t in the parking lot alone. You're grateful. You're still so shaken. As you approach your car, your beater that you still don’t quite have the money to replace, you see someone leaning against it. You stop short, looking to Colin for help, but he just keeps walking to his own car, his head down. That’s when you know it’s Curtis. 

You take a deep breath and then force yourself to keep walking towards him. You can't begin to parse how you feel to see him now. Your keys are ready in your hand like you might just get in and drive off without speaking to him. You know you won’t.

When you reach him, his voice is rough as he asks, “Are you ok?” He’s cleaned up. There’s no more blood on his hands, his clothes have been straightened.

You open your mouth to answer, even though you have no idea, so instead what comes out is “Did you kill him?”

“Did you want me to?” is his immediate reply.

It stops you in your tracks as all sorts of feelings come bubbling up, ones you can not, will not examine. This is about his propensity for violence, how terrifying he became, not– No. “Did you?” you insist. 

He looks at you carefully then shakes his head. “I don't think you actually want me to answer that.”

“But you've killed before?” You can't stop yourself from pressing, from pushing. You don’t know why. 

He just sort of smiles, gently almost, in a way that is deeply unsettling. “You need to stop asking questions you aren’t ready for me to answer, Bambi.” And it’s the way he says the nickname, like you really are that babe in the woods, just born with no knowledge of the world around you, that has your hackles rising.

“Andy called you his dog,” you say, like he should be offended.

To your surprise, he laughs, his head thrown back. Then he takes a step closer to you, and you take the opportunity to sneak in behind him, get to your car. You realize your mistake immediately when he turns back around and cages you in, your back pressed against the driver’s side door. “Everyone calls me his dog. Because he’s the civilized man in the designer suit, and I’m the animal just begging for a reason to slip my leash.”

Your heart pounds wildly in your chest. You should get into your car. You should drive away as fast as you can. You should never come back. But you don’t. “You did it for him,” you say, mustering all the strength into your voice that you can. “You didn’t do it for me.”

He leans over you, the space between you shrinking rapidly. “Yeah, he asked me to do it,” he nods. “But if he hadn’t, I still would have done it. For you.”

 You try to shake your head, to tell him that that can’t be true, even as a wild, loud part of you starts to rise up and claw out of your chest. You try to tamp it down, deny it, but before you can, Curtis is leaning in further, his whole body pressing against you, and then he covers your lips with his.  

There’s a heat that comes up out of him that fills you, the instant his skin touches yours. His hands are on you, your neck, your hip. You can’t keep track, can only say that his hands are there, everywhere, that his body touches all of yours, that his lips and his tongue are demanding, unrelenting. You are burning up from the inside.

Too soon, but ages later, he pulls away. His eyes are on fire as he looks at you. Then he tears his gaze away, and hits the roof of your decrepit car twice, looking at it disdainfully. “You get home safe,” he says, then steps back to allow you the space you need to get into your car.

You do what he wants you to do. You get in your car, sit in the driver’s seat, and then stare blankly out the windshield. You’ve never felt so out of control in your life. How did this happen? You were flirting for tips, that was all! You encouraged it for money, that was it, and now– You press your thighs together, trying not to pant. You will not be unmoored. 

A slight movement in your periphery makes you notice that Curtis is still standing just to the side of your car, watching you. You turn your keys in the ignition and shift into drive.

It doesn’t mean anything it doesn’t mean anything it doesn’t mean anything, you chant to yourself all the way home.

It’s your next shift back, and everything seems to have changed. You don’t understand it. You keep doing laps of the room, keep sidling up to regulars you were so friendly with just a few nights ago, but now, they won’t even look at you, let alone touch you. No one’s ordering anything.

Or at least, they aren’t ordering from you.

Holly has been running around nonstop all night, basically having to take care of the entire room by herself. You watch man after man after man slip her little bundles of money. 

You want to scream. What the fuck happened? What did you do? What are you going to do?

You go to stand by the bar to wait for something you can do. Colin gives you a brief nod of acknowledgment but that’s it. He’s been cold, too. No. Not cold, distant. You don’t understand what’s changed.

You take a deep breath. It’s one weird night. Things will be better tomorrow.

Things don’t get better. The next night is the same. You’re starting to panic. This job was supposed to be your lifeline. Without it, without the money you were making, you’re not sure how you’ll survive.

Curtis comes in after a couple of hours of nothing. You could cry you’re so happy to see him. But terrified too. If he gives you the cold shoulder, this job really is over. But you have no idea how he’s going to act, not after what happened last time. You’re not sure how you’re going to act either. You can still feel his lips on yours.

You bring him his whiskey immediately and he greets you with an arm around your waist, pulling you in. “Hey Bambi,” he says quietly. Then he gets a good look at you. “What’s wrong?” 

You look at him carefully, not sure what to confide. You aren’t even sure what the problem is. You shake your head. “Not my best night,” you say with a tired smile. “But I’m fine.”

He stares at you for a moment, then stands up. “Come on,” he says, grabbing your hand and leading you to the little back room. You feel eyes on the two of you the whole way there.

Once he’s closed the door behind you both, he asks again, “What’s wrong?”

You sigh. “The last two nights have been weird here. I don’t– I don’t know. I’m just worried. I don’t know what happened but I’m not making any tips. No one’s treating me like they used to.”

“Mmm,” Curtis hums thoughtfully. “I think,” he says as he takes two steps closer to you, which in this small space is significant, “everyone else here has figured it out.”

It’s suddenly a little hard to breathe with him standing over you like this. His presence, his attention is always so much. “Figured what out?” you ask, confused.

“That I have lost my patience for watching other men touch you.” 

It hits you like a freight train. “What?” It comes out in a whisper.

“I’ve let this go on for too long,” he says, his voice is calm, casual. “I don’t want you working here anymore. This is done.”

“I– What? Curtis. What?! I have to work! I have to pay my bills! I don’t understand. I don’t–”

He takes one last step forward. You feel the heat coming off of him. “Shh,” he soothes, cradling your cheek in his hand. “It’ll be alright. I’ll take care of you. I take care of what’s mine.”

You pull your face away, even as the urge to nuzzle into him is so strong. You feel like you’ve missed something, a thousand things. You feel too many steps behind. “Curtis, I’m not– I’m not yours.”

Something comes into his eyes and you’re reminded of him standing over Vinny, covered in blood. His hand travels down from your cheek. He strokes your throat once, and then his hand closes around it. “Look me in the eye,” he growls, “and say that again.”

His hand is firm, snug, but it doesn’t tighten. But you can imagine so easily how it might. You look him in the eye. You open your mouth, ready to say it again. But then– then you see it. In the way he looks at you, the way he’s always looked at you. You feel it in his grip on you, now. You can’t deny it anymore. 

Curtis shoves you into his bedroom. You’re panting already. You need his hands on you, right now. You don’t have to ask for it. He gets you to the center of the room and yanks down your skirt, tearing it in the process. You step out of it and take your blouse off, throwing it on top of your skirt. Curtis’s eyes are cataloging your body, the swell of your breasts spilling out of your bra, your soft tummy, thick thighs. His gaze, as always, takes your breath away.

You reach out for Curtis’s shirt, but he grabs your hands. “I want you on your knees,” he growls and you immediately kneel for him. He throws off his shirt, revealing the expanse of his chest, the muted blacks and grays of his tattoos. You’re desperate to run your hands over them, trace the art, but instead, they just twitch at your side. He'll tell you what you're allowed to do.

He begins unbuttoning his jeans and your mouth drops open. He chuckles darkly. “Perfect little slut.” He takes his phone out of his back pocket and aims it at you, taking a picture as you gaze up at him under your lashes, your mouth wide open. “I've been dreaming of getting you on your knees for me.” He puts his phone on his dresser, then continues taking off his pants. “You ready to choke on my cock, baby?”

“Please,” you whine. You're practically salivating now. His bare thighs are as thick as tree trunks, the muscles corded. His abs ripple as he moves. His shoulders, his back. You want.

He frees his cock and rolls his black boxer briefs down his legs, stepping out of them. It's long and thick, just like the rest of him. Your breath catches. You don't think you've ever taken something that big before.

He takes a few steps so he's completely in your space, his cock bobbing right in front of your face. He takes it in one hand, the other firmly on the back of your head and slowly feeds the tip into your mouth. You taste his musk on your tongue. As he rocks into your mouth, going a little further each time, your hands come up to grasp his thighs. On his next thrust in, you run your tongue along the underside of his dick. His movements stutter just a little and then he looks down at you, a smirk overtaking his face. It's just a touch mean, in a way that has you soaking your panties. “You ready?” he asks, his voice rough. And then without waiting for the answer, he thrusts in all the way, making you take him deep in your throat.

You flail, slapping his thigh as you try to swallow around him, breathing frantically through your nose. After holding you there for a moment, he sets a brutal but steady pace. It takes you a moment, but you find your rhythm, your panic subsiding. Once you feel steady, you lift one hand from his thighs and bring it up to cradle his balls. “Fuck, Bambi,” he grinds out. “You're gonna– I– fuck!” His hand moves from the back of your head down to the back of your neck, which he grips firmly, pulling you off his cock. As you cough and splutter on the floor, he growls, “The first time you make me come is gonna be inside that perfect cunt.”

He helps you stand on wobbly legs, then shoves his hand between your legs, cupping your pussy over your panties. “Shit, fucking soaked just from deepthroating me?”

You let out a needy little whine, trying to push further into his hand, but he withdraws it, instead settling on your hip. “Well,” he grins, “if they’re ruined anyway…” then uses that hand to rip the black lace down the side, letting them fall to the floor. He makes quick work of your bra as well, then takes a step back and sighs, “Shit, Bambi, look at you.” It’s the reverence in his voice and on his face that has you launching yourself at him, unable to keep from kissing him any longer. He lets you, quickly taking control, letting you feel all his hunger, the want he’s kept barely bottled up since he first laid eyes on you. You understand it all now. His erection brushes against you, and now it’s his turn to whine, just a little. 

He pulls away, brushing a hand down your cheek, then says “Get on the bed, on your stomach.” You quickly comply, laying in the center of the bed with your knees pulled up and spread beneath you. He brings his hand down on one asscheek harshly and you can’t help the lewd moan that escapes you. He chuckles, “Oh, I will definitely remember that for later.” He grabs your hips and cants them up, then whistles at your exposed cunt. “I knew it. Absolutely beautiful.” Then he unceremoniously shoves two fingers into your hole and you choke on nothing. “Shh,” he coos. “You can take it. My cock’s gonna be a lot thicker.” 

As he starts scissoring his fingers inside you, you can’t hold it in any longer and start babbling. Mostly a combination of “please,” and “Curtis,” and “I need,” over and over.

“I know, baby,” he says as he pulls his fingers out of you. “I’ve got what you need right here.” You have a brief moment to feel the tip of his cock on your pussy lips before he’s thrusting it into you, as far as he can go without making it hurt. 

“Oh my god,” you cry, pressing your forehead into the mattress and balling his dark blue sheets in your hands. You feel so full. It’s so good. He’s working himself into you as quickly as he can, desperate now. You both are. Once he bottoms out, fully seated in you, he pauses. Then with one hand on your stomach and the other around your neck, he pulls you up onto your knees, your back flush to his chest. You cry out at the new angle; he’s somehow even deeper now. He starts thrusting up into you at a punishing pace. You’re bouncing up and down in his firm grasp. The hand on your neck turns your head to face him, his lips brushing against yours. He holds eye contact with you as the hand on your stomach snakes down your pelvis so his thick fingers can begin circling your clit. “Fuck! Curtis, please!” you shout. 

“Yeah, come on,” he breathes, “you can let go. You can do it. Come for me like a good girl.” It’s those words that send you careening over the edge, your cunt pulsing around his cock, squeezing him until he’s coming too with a grunt, filling you up until both your cum is leaking out around him. 

He holds you there, on your knees, as you both come down, your twin pants all you can hear.

You wake up slowly, the sun shining on you through the soft drapes. You start to shift then groan at how stiff you are. The night before comes back to you. Curtis took you two more times before you both collapsed in satisfied exhaustion. He’s still out like a light beneath you. 

You take a moment to look at him. It’s odd to see him so peaceful, so still. There’s nothing of the feral predator he projects to the world. It makes you feel oddly close to him, seeing him like this.

You carefully get up without disturbing him and begin collecting your clothes. You put on your bra, but there’s no saving your panties. Same for your skirt; it’s ripped along the seam. So instead you pick up Curtis’s t-shirt from last night and put it on. It smells like him. You breathe it in shamelessly knowing there’s no one to witness it.

You savor the soreness as you move out of the bedroom. It’s like you can still feel him inside you, how much he wanted you, needed you. It makes you feel a little powerful, having that effect on a man like him.

You make your way into his living room. You didn’t really have a chance to look at his house last night, as determined as he was to get you into the bedroom. If you’d ever thought to picture it, this wouldn’t be far off. It’s all rich blues and greens and grays, leather and dark wood. Masculine. It suits him. 

As you’re admiring the room, you hear footsteps behind you and then two big arms are encircling your waist, pulling you into him. “Good morning,” he rasps. 

You turn your head to him. “Good morning,” you say with a smile.

“Fuck, Bambi, you’re even hotter in my shirt than you were last night.”

You smirk at him even as your face heats. “Mmm,” you hum. “It’s comfy. You might not get it back.” He nuzzles into your neck as you continue. “I was hoping you might have something I could wear for bottoms, too. You destroyed my skirt.”

His beard roughly drags against your skin as he asks, “Why the hell would I let you wear bottoms?”

You laugh. “Because I have to leave the house, Curtis.”

“No, you don’t,” he says as his hand begins to move between your thighs.

You playfully swat him away, even as you feel yourself getting wet again from his attention. “I have to go home.”

“Why? You’re staying here.” It’s how certain he sounds that has you turning around in his arms.

“What?”

“I don’t like your building. It isn’t safe enough. Now that I finally have you, of course, I’m going to keep you here with me.”

Once again, you feel too many steps behind. You just blink at him, confused. How does he even know where you live??

He takes your chin in his hand, his fingers gentle. “I told you, Bambi, I take care of what’s mine.”

Tag list

@stargazingfangirl18 @yenzys-lucky-charm @thezombieprostitute @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @bval-1 @km-ffluv @texmexdarling @ladyvenera @roxyfan14-blog @darkserenity24 @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @ronearoundblindly @brandycranby @midnightramyeoncravings

[natti-ice]

— just a stranger.

18+ mdni

pairing: male character x fem!reader

cw: p in v, public sex, unprotected sex, creampie, mentions of alcohol

reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated<3

⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡

The smell of smoke and hand soap lingers in the air around you as your mouth clashes with his, the loud bass from the live band vibrates the small bathroom stall, you can’t help but moan as his tongue slides against yours. You don’t normally hook up with strangers at bars but there was something so captivating about this man you couldn’t deny his invitation to the bathroom, the taste of whiskey off his lips sends a flood down to your core- desperate for friction you reach down and unbuckle his belt as fast as possible.

He takes the hint and takes over, unbuttoning his jeans and pulls them down along with his boxers. You gasp softly against his mouth as you feel your dress being yanked above your waist, his fingers make their way into the band of your soaked panties. A soft whimper escapes your lips as his finger tips gently graze your swollen clit “Jesus, sweetheart, you’re already wet” his husky, lust filled voice scratches something in your brain. The horny daze you’re in takes over your body, you don’t think about your next move you just let your body take control.

You reach down and grab a hold of his cock and gently stroke it while looking deep into his eyes, without breaking eye contact he pushes your panties down to your knees and moves you against the cold metal stall door. He steps right in front of you and brings his cock between your legs, your legs tremble as the tip glides up and down your puffy lips. He pulls your legs apart more and you grab a hold of the toilet paper holder for balance, the head of his dick slow presses into your entrance asking for permission. You nod quickly giving him the okay, you couldn’t help but feel so needy right now. The ache between your legs could only be fixed by one solution and that solution was this stranger’s big cock.

You cover your mouth immediately as he pushes further into you until he bottoms out, you bite your tongue hard to fight back the moan of pure ecstasy that’s lodged in your throat. His pleasured groans meet your ears as he starts to pump into you, his hand slams against the door that holds you up to balance himself, your free hand snakes behind him and grips his ass. Soft swears are muttered against your neck as his hot lips place gentle kisses against your sensitive skin. Your body tenses immediately as you hear the bathroom door open and a few people come stumbling in, your brain tells you to push the guy away but you’re so lost in pleasure that you don’t move.

He pulls away from your neck for a moment and you look up at him to see a wicked grin slapped across his face, his pace doesn’t slow down as he reaches up and grabs your wrist to pull away your hand that’s clamped over your mouth. He whispers to you “don’t hold back sweetheart, let the whole bar hear what a good girl you are.” His voice was pure sex and you couldn’t help but listen to his demand, you let out the moans, allowing yourself to enjoy this very hot situation. You could hear laughing coming from outside the stall but you didn’t care, the orgasm you were chasing was too tempting to pass up.

Your back arches as a loud grunt leaves his perfect mouth, your pussy clenches around him as you go over the edge, you don’t hold anything back as you cum- letting all the swears fill the small space around you. His amused chuckle is followed by a shuttered groan as you feel him spill into your body, he collapses against you, panting softly as the both of you catch your breath. After a few moments past the haze starts to clear, you feel his breath against your ear, there’s a gentleness to his words as he says, “best pussy of my life.”

For some reason you believed him, you’ve only know him for a few hours but something about the way he said it makes you truly believe that you’re the best he’s ever had.

[obsessiveandutterlydelusional]

Quiet as worship.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader (no use of y/n)

Summary:

You and Wanda have spent the last year walking the tightrope between secrecy and devotion—navigating judgment, age gaps, and quiet mornings that feel more sacred than any spotlight. To the world, you're just two successful women in different stages of life. But behind closed doors, you're something far more intimate. When you return home during one of Wanda's livestreamed interviews, the quiet ache to be close becomes impossible to resist. And under the desk—where no one can see—you remind her exactly who she belongs to, even when the camera’s still rolling.

A story of stolen moments, soft worship, and the kind of love that doesn’t need an audience to feel real.

TW: NFSW, oral sex (w!receiving), fingering (w!receiving), age gap relationship (legal, duh), secretish relationship, praise & worship kink (implied), power dynamics, dom!wanda, sub!reader, established relationship, fem!reader, public sex?(concealed), A/U!Celebrities, MDI.

Word Count: around 1k (it's a short one)

A/N: honestly, i've never really written anything before, (unless you count making "fanfics" on youtube when i was like 13.) i've been obsessd with elizabeth olsen lately, and really just wanted to write something short for wanda. i don't expect this to really blow up or anything but thought i'd share and may write more fics if this gets any attention. feel free to comment your thoughts or critiques, i also barely know how to navigate anything on tumblr when it comes to posting so if you have any tips for that, greatly appreciated. enjoy! :)

You and Wanda had been navigating the blurred line between secrecy and intimacy for nearly a year. It wasn’t a tabloid-worthy secret—not exactly—not to those who mattered. Your families knew. So did your closest friends. But the rest of the world? The fans, the press, the ever-watchful industry eyes? They didn’t know. Not yet.

You both guarded it tightly, like something too rare and beautiful to survive under public scrutiny.

And truthfully, it wasn’t the kind of love story you could explain easily.

You were 21—young, ambitious, a rising force in music with a voice that turned heads. Acting had become your latest frontier, a new stage to conquer. Wanda was 30—powerful, poised, and captivating in ways that made people go silent mid-sentence. She’d lived through storms, carried shadows she rarely spoke of, and moved through the world with a calm intensity that demanded respect.

And that nine-year gap between you? It made people talk. Judge. Assume.

Her friends whispered their theories—maybe she was chasing youth, maybe it was a passing indulgence. Your family masked concern with logic, lacing their doubt with patronizing smiles. Too young. Too complicated. As if love bowed to reason.

But none of it mattered. Not anymore.

Because it worked.

The late nights. The quiet mornings. The language spoken in glances and silences. It bloomed into something undeniable. And after nearly a year of proving the world wrong, even the skeptics had started to soften. They saw it now—the connection, the depth, the truth.

A month ago, you moved in—into her secluded home nestled in the hills above L.A., wrapped in silence and red-hued sunsets that lasted just a little longer when she was beside you. It felt seamless. Like gravity.

Today had been ordinary, in the kind of way that only shared lives could make beautiful. You’d spent the morning in the studio, lost in harmonies and half-written lyrics. Wanda had stayed home, preparing for a livestreamed interview for a film she’d done more as a favor than anything else.

Before the call began, she left you a voice note—low, calm, clipped in that no-nonsense way she got when she was focused.

“I’ll be live when you get back. Mic and camera on. Be good for me, okay?”

There was a softness beneath the command, and you’d smiled at the sound of it.

You got home quietly, careful with your keys and the sound of the door, trying not to disturb her. But curiosity had a gravity all its own. You told yourself you just wanted to see her.

Drifting down the hall, you paused at the half-open door of her office. Warm light poured out, casting long golden shadows. And there she was.

Wanda sat like she owned the space—back straight, voice smooth, answering questions with calm poise and piercing intelligence. Her hair, back to its deep auburn, framed her face in soft waves, new bangs brushing her brows and easing the sharpness of her features. She wore a loose black pantsuit—elegant and commanding, clinging to her in ways that made your pulse stutter. She didn’t have to try. She just was.

And you stood there, breath caught in your throat.

She hadn’t noticed you. Her eyes were on the screen. But yours? They were only on her. The curve of her mouth, the angle of her jaw, the way her fingers moved lightly across the desk—it all drew you in. Unintended seduction. Unintended, and yet devastating.

Your body responded before your mind could argue. Quietly, you stepped inside. No grand plan—just a hunger to be close. You dropped to your knees, heart hammering, and crawled beneath the desk. Her mic was angled high, her camera facing away from the lower half. She wouldn’t be visible from this angle. Neither would you.

It wasn’t about teasing. It wasn’t about interruption. You just needed to be near her.

Face to face with her knees, you reached out, fingers ghosting over her ankles and slipping under the fabric of her pants to stroke the warm skin of her calves.

Wanda didn’t flinch. Didn’t skip a beat. But a subtle smile ghosted her lips—so faint it might’ve gone unnoticed.

‘I knew you’d find your way under my desk.’

Her thighs shifted, parting slightly, creating space for you. Space you moved into with reverent ease. You rested your head on her inner thigh, looking up through your lashes, just watching her speak—captivated. Worshipful.

Your hands trailed up, fingers pressing softly into the fabric of her slacks, drawing lazy circles on her skin beneath.

And Wanda responded in the quietest of ways.

A shift in her chair. A hand sliding down, curling beneath the desk to cradle your jaw. Another tangling into your hair, fingertips gripping gently. Guiding. Not forcing. Just showing you what she wanted.

Your cheeks burned under her touch, the intimacy of it pulling a shiver through you. You hadn’t expected this—thought maybe she’d hush you away with a glance. But Wanda rarely did what people expected.

Hands shaking just slightly, you moved to the waistband of her pants, undoing the button with deliberate slowness. Her hips lifted, offering permission, as she kept speaking to the screen with barely a hitch.

“So you could say the character’s inner struggle is something many of us can relate to…”

Her voice stayed calm, even as you slid the zipper down.

You pulled her pants and underwear just low enough, breath catching at the sight of her—already wet, already wanting. She was flushed, beautiful, and utterly composed.

Leaning in, you pressed soft kisses to her inner thighs, rewarded with the quietest sigh. A gentle tug at your hair—impatient.

You obeyed.

Your mouth found her center, tongue teasing a long stripe through her slit, savoring the taste of her. She shifted, hips rolling forward, breath catching as you sucked lightly on her clit.

“Mm… the theme of self-discovery was important to explore…”

A subtle breathiness laced her tone, barely there but so present to you.

The wet sounds of your mouth were louder now, shame and desire twisted together in your chest as you tried to stay quiet. Your fingers joined the rhythm, slipping into her slowly, curling up to find that one perfect spot.

She gripped the chair arm harder.

“It’s about… facing your fears. Finding courage to be who you truly are…”

You looked up at her—sweat at her brow, jaw clenched, chest rising with uneven breaths. She glanced down, and her green eyes met yours—dark, desperate, hungry.

She was close. So close.

“This film really shows the power of… of collaboration…”

Her thighs trembled around your head, clamping tighter. Her hands clenched, one still buried in your hair. She was trying so hard to hold it together.

“And—ah—it’s been an honor to work with such an incredibly talented ensemble…”

Her voice broke for a fraction of a second.

You knew that sound. That edge. She was there.

“Thank you for having me,” she said quickly, managing a final smile for the camera. “It’s been a pleasure.”

She ended the stream in one swift motion—shutting the laptop before anyone could respond.

In a blur, she pushed her chair back, pulling you from under the desk and onto her lap with startling strength.

Her lips grazed your ear. Her voice was low, dark, commanding.

“Naughty girl. You just couldn’t wait, could you?”

A shiver licked up your spine.

“You know this isn’t going unpunished.”

And you knew. God, you knew. But you didn’t care. As long as it was Wanda... You’d take anything she gave.

[bunny-jpeg]

cum stained logos

max verstappen

cw: smut/pwp, the 2024 red bull driving uniform, uniform kink, oral sex

bunny says: reblogs & comments are greatly appreciated! I love feedback!! i am looking (dis)respectfully mr. verstappen, been thinkin about this image.

the driving uniform was a core feature of formula one, it was a showcase of sponsors while also being a protector for the driver. there was a reason why technically the uniform was in two layers.

max was proud to wear red bull, even off the track he wore is quite frequently. you once made a comment asking if he got this stuff for free and that was why there was so much of it in his closet.

"you like it." he responded as he placed his hands on your shoulders and went in for a kiss on your cheek from behind, "i know how you look at me after a race. red bull across my chest."

you looked behind yourself to him and made a face, "i love a man in uniform so." you shrugged.

the idea buried itself in max's brain like a seed. it soon grew into a hefty idea to make you squirm.

for max it wasn't hard to get his driving suit into his bag and back to his home. everyone assumed he was just very dedicated to racing (which was a correct assumption), but max verstappen would never do anything nefarious with it. to ruin the red bull legacy and brand.

so the look on your face when you went into the bathroom and saw him zipping up the dark blue uniform was a nice surprise. he looked over at you and smiled, "like what you see?"

you swallowed, "how did you even-"

he turned around, it was still partially unzipped giving you a clear view that he was not wearing the fire proof protection underneath. he had no reason to really wear it, while sex with you was hot. it was no fire hazard.

you adverted your eyes and swallowed, "max... how?"

he chuckled and went up to you. he placed his hands on his shoulders and leaned in for a kiss. when he pulled away soon after he said, "i want to show the integrity of the red bull brand.

he then laughed, "i'm joking. i wanted you to suck my cock while i wore it. after all, you liked men in uniform."

your eyes went wide for a moment, "every day you surprise me, max." then your hand was taken by your boyfriend and led back to the bedroom.

he looked over his shoulder as he led you and said, "well, you have a whole lifetime of surprises then." he got on the bed, with his back up against the headboard. he patted his thigh and you got between his legs.

"sometimes i forget how hot you are." you admitted.

he raised an eyebrow, "well, i guess i have to remind you then." then gestured for you to unzip the suit. he watched you careful eyes as you slowly unzipped it.

you felt your hand shake from anticipation as you zipped it all the way down, exposed his toned torso to you. you swallowed when you eyes trailed to his cock which was clothed by a pair of briefs. you noticed the bulge in them.

"like it?" he asked.

you looked up at him, "max, the first time i saw it on accident my jaw hit the floor. remember what i asked you?"

he scratched his jaw a little flustered, "you asked me if when i get hard if i lose all the blood in my head."

you nodded and reached for the waistband of his briefs. you pulled his cock out and without thinking licking your lips. you felt a shudder in your heart. you kissed the leaky tip and sighed contently.

this entire situation was hot. he looked good in the driver's suit. he looked good with red bull and the other branding across his body. he was a good racer and got good sponsors. he also had an impressive cock that fit nicely in your throat.

it was hefty and big, but not terrifying. it was a snug fit, but not a painful stretch. it was perfect just like the rest of him. you heard him relax further against the headboard and his large hand found the back of your head.

"ik had dit eerder moeten doen. als ik het had geweten, fuck." he shifted on the bed and let you take all of him in his mouth. as much as you threw around that max was a kinky man, you were almost toe to toe with him.

he knew you tried to act surprised, but he knew that you ate up any chance at exploring aspects of sex. and sometimes that meant him stealing his driving suit and letting you suck him off.

you held onto his thighs for support, the fabric under his fingers grounded you as you sucked him off. your eyes fluttered closed as you bobbed your head up and down.

your mouth felt like a dream. he held onto you and rocked up a little against your mouth.

"you feel so good." he panted as he felt the heat in his body. his heart was a loud thump in his ears as he stroked your hair. you looked so good laid out between his legs with his cock in your throat.

it was so painfully dirty that it lit a fire in max's stomach. he softly met your pace and pushed his cock a little further into your throat. he exhaled deeply as you just took him so well.

"do you like the uniform?" he asked, "maybe next time i'll fuck you while you're wearing it. " he chuckled a little.

you got your mouth off of him and stroked his cock quickly, "don't get cocky." you raised your eyebrows then leaned in to lick the swollen head, "not a good look on you."

he gripped your hair a little tighter and replied, "but you love it." then guided your mouth back onto his cock. he set the pace a little bit as he moved your head up and down his cock.

you got it slick all the way to his balls. his cock felt good on your tongue as you felt the heat curl in your stomach. the heat throbbed in your head.

you two continued to work together. the soft noises and the sounds of your mouth on his cock were in the air. the soft curses and heavy pants. the shifts on the bed.

max was deeply in love with you, not that it was something that you questioned. but when you were sucking the soul of out him, he felt a big swell of pride in his chest that you were his.

"shit, i'm close." he groaned, the sweat caused the suit to stick to his back. it felt good, but he was reaching his peak.

you pulled your mouth away from his cock and hastily jerked him off. you were both panting with an intense head rush. max ran his fingers through his hair once more before he tensed up and climaxed.

ropes of hot cum reached across his chest and splattered onto a few of the logos on the uniform. but he couldn't care in that moment. he did wish that he got to finish all over those cute cheeks of yours.

no time like the present for that dream as he reached down and pulled your mouth up against his still erect cock. between heavy pants he said, "keep it in your mouth next time. clean me up.'

you looked back up at him before you started to lick his cock. your core throbbed, you'd get yours soon enough. but your driver boyfriend wasn't done yet. <3