#I like cash and my hair to my ass do the dash can you make it go fast fuck the fame all I want is them bands if she keep on muggin ima steal

[slicksquid]

I love Hilda fire emblem fancam

[blueicequeen19]

The Rich & The Damned

Warnings: unprotected sex, implied sexy accountant, public car sex, choking

How did I get here? Men usually paid annual salaries just to get a few minutes of my time but now.. I’m in the front seat of a Rolls Royce for free. With a man who doesn’t respect what I do. Who wants me to quit my job and be his good little wife. He infuriates me. He belittles me. But fuck.. his touch turns my PHD brain into mush.

I’m good at what I do. I recognize my skill set and I know how to play powerful men. I’ve paid my bills with cash in advance for years and put myself through Ivy League schools that only care about last names. I don’t have a big name but I have loaded pockets and that speaks volumes. So why the fuck am I on this man’s lap, dying for a scrap of attention when he can no longer be bothered to come inside to see me?

“Fuck me.. please.. I need you.” I whine, tugging on his hair as he peppers kisses along my throat and collar bone, large hands palming my thong-clad ass and rock me against his erection.

“Come home with me.” He growls, taking a chunk of my flesh between his teeth and making me hiss as I shove his head away.

“I told you not to mark me.” I snap, glaring at him even as his blue eyes shine with amusement and mischief.

“And I told you if you wanted back in my bed, you had to stay off the pole.” His words sting, even with the red lipstick smeared across his mouth. If anything the smirk on his face combined with the red smear made him look even more sinister.

I pull my lips back in a snarl as his hand slides between my parted things to cup my pussy. I slap at his hand but his free hand finds my throat, pushing my back against the dash and squeezing hard.

“You’re not for them.” He growls, tucking my thong to the side before shoving two then three fingers inside me. My eyes roll back into my head, my pussy gushing in his hand as he strokes my sweet spot.

“I-I’m not yours.” I rasp, riding his hand like a desperate whore. God, I’d agree to anything right now if it meant I got to feel his fat cock inside me again. Maybe it’s the lack of oxygen to my brain as he squeezes even harder.

“Don’t lie to me. You’re not very good at it.” His words light me on fire again, making me dig my nails into his chest as I try to lift off his hand. The hand around my throat drops to my chest and he yanks my bra down so my breasts spill out.

“I guess we’re both liars.” I purr, just as his hot mouth closes around my nipple and sucks hard. I was so close to my orgasm I could feel it in my toes. I throw my head back as I shamelessly ride his hand but I desperately craved his cock instead.

“Maybe if you’d stop treating me like one of your customers.” I yelp when he’s teeth sink into my nipple so hard, I know there’s blood. Or the very least, a new piercing. His fingers leave me aching and needy in their retreat.

“Stop treating me like a whore and maybe I’d treat you like someone who actually means something to me.” I bite back, shoving his chest hard as I hear the sound of his belt buckle. When his cock springs free between us it takes everything in me to keep my composure. His large hand wraps around the thick shaft as he strokes himself almost lazily. The tip leaked clear drops of precum that I desperately wanted to chase with my tongue.

“Fuck me in my bed and maybe I’ll believe you’re somebody else.”

I was so fucking weak for him. I wanted to choke on it even if it meant I didn’t get off. If he fucked my throat until it was raw, I’d say thank you like the obedient slut I was. But only for him. Only ever him. So why didn’t he get that? I’d fuck him in front of every single client I had just to show him I was his. He could lead me around on a leash if that’s what it took.

I reached back to unhook my bra and let it fall to the floor before wrapping my hand around his on his cock. I savor the way his eyes become hooded and his breathing becomes labored just from my touch. I loved that he was as weak as I was.

“You—,” I brought my other hand up to his throat, squeezing the best I could until his eyes fully dilated while I lifted myself up on his thighs, “—don’t own—,” I notched his thick cock at my entrance and sank down one excruciating inch, “—me.” I sank down the rest of the way, my body welcoming the pain and stretch of him as his breathy moans met my ears.

It was always in moments like these where it became obvious that Rafe Cameron was fucking mine.

[katyawriteswhump]

the freak in the penthouse, pt 4.2

E-rated (for sexual content), accidental millionaire eddie/sex-worker steve.

On tumblr: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3.1 Part 3.2 Part 4.1 or search #thefreakinthepenthouse

On AO3

4.2 Playing hardball

Steve kneeled beneath the piano, contorting himself awkwardly to avoid the pedals. He was giving the blowjob of his life, which crazily, he was enjoying.

After his candy-ass panic nearly triggered an asthma attack in the plunge pool, he’d felt pretty shaken. On top of that, his ‘saving’ the situation through riding Eddie cowgirl was gonna make sitting down a world of ouch tomorrow. Once he’d escaped the pool, however, he’d managed to dash to the other restroom, take a puff of his inhaler, and… Bam! He came out swinging. 

Unfortunately, Eddie had then turned all jittery and Steve’s dumbass piano recital had been a bogus move.

Eddie seemed happier now, however.

He moaned, fists clamping rigid in Steve’s hair, while Steve pulled out all his neatest tricks. He pawed at Eddie’s balls, massaging and kneading, digging how they drew up, hard as pebbles. At the same time, he lavished his top-trump skill on Eddie’s cockhead. His lips slid wetly on and off the engorged plum, while his tongue swirled and dabbed at Eddie’s slit. He really hoped he was doing too much of an awesome job for Eddie to try and deep throat him.

His hopes paid off.

“Christ… Stevie… You’re fucking slaying me… Yes… there. Aaaaaagh, fuck, fuck, FUUUUUUCK!”

Eddie came hard, hot liquid coating the back of Steve’s throat, giving him little choice but to swallow. Meanwhile, Eddie jerked back, spurting the remnants of his load across Steve’s face:

“Shit… sorry, I was… Oh man, you’re sweet.” Eddie slumped forward, arms thumping the keyboard with a loud, dissonant plink. “You okay?” he panted.

“Mmmm.” Steve licked Eddie’s salty taste from his lips, dragging his arm across his disaster-zone face. He usually loathed this, struggling to conceal his revulsion. It made a helluva lot of difference when he actually fancied the guy who’d mini-bukakid him. He crawled out from under the piano, nearly braining himself. Eddie, looking kinda sheepish, offered him a glass of champagne.

“To wash away, the… erm…”

“Come? I love a cocktail."

“Pun intended?”

“Um, no?” Steve took the flute—internally cringing at his latest lousy line—chugged it back. He knew he should go drink some water. He said, instead: “Gonna be brutally honest. I prefer beer.”

“Christ, me too. I’d murder for a six-pack of Bud.”

After that, they showered together, got wasted on iced beer, then watched a Van Damme movie on cable from Eddie’s enormous bed. Steve lay belly-down across Eddie’s lap, while Eddie fiddled with Steve’s ass.

As Jean-Claude was high-kicking some punk out of existence, Eddie dealt his own killer blow: “Stevie, I want you to stay.”

“You paid for the night, man. I’m not about to split.”

Eddie switched off the TV with his remote. “Not that. How much dough d’ya want for a week? A month? To stay all the time. What do you say?”

“Woah! You really hate your money, don’t you?”

Steve rolled off Eddie’s lap, rested his chin on his fist, and stared. Was Eddie on the level? He was blatantly buzzed. A hot mess, basically. Steve was pretty fuzzy headed, too, after mixing the beer and champagne.

“I can’t ditch my day-job. Playing yo-yo in elevators is still better than”—having sex with the regular breed of a-hole John— “other crap. But listen, as long as I get some sleep and my cash, I’ll come back tomorrow. And the day after that. Aaaaand the day after that, if you’re not sick of my ass.”

A smirk flirted across Eddie’s lush lips, only to be replaced by total sincerity. “I’d like that, Stevie. I’d really like that. And as much as I’d love to fuck you all night every night, sleeping beauty, I ain’t got that kinda stamina. While you’re here, you can nap as much as you like. So…. any other rules? Expectations of your liege lord? Any more buck for your bang?”

“Say what?” This is where I play hardball. Negotiate a higher fee. “Nope,” said Steve, smiling up into Eddie’s big chocolate and slightly bloodshot eyes.

“Okay, I got one new rule,” said Eddie, crossing his arms tight around himself. “No games of poke the grizzly.”

“You lost me again. Is it some loopy sex-game?”

“Nope. You don’t ask me diddly-squat about my past. I won’t ask you.”

Cool. I don’t even have to feel guilty about keeping quiet about… stuff. “You got it, Eddie-cakes.”

Steve came back the next day and so it began.

They usually had sex. Some nights, they just chilled, ordered everything and anything on room service, plus take-outs from all over town, and stuffed their faces. 

Eddie proved a heavy sleeper, which was fortunate for Steve, who often woke himself up coughing. It got easier to control now he’d picked up his prevention meds, but Eddie’s smoking offset that a bit. Not that Steve was gonna say anything, which was kinda dumb, he knew, but… he really didn’t want to.

He’d muscle through.

By the end of a fortnight, it was all routine. When Steve’s alarm went off at 6am, Eddie would groan, lift his arm for Steve to roll away, then snore on. And Steve would often say a silent prayer of thanks to Eddie that he still had an alarm to swiftly silence. That digital watch was the last thing his father gave him. He’d been about to pawn it yet again before Eddie showed up.

On the fifteenth morning, all this usual shit happened. Steve flung on his uniform and slipped out of the suite. He was tucking his shirt in his pants when he reached the service elevator.

“What are you skulking around up here for, Harrington?”

Steve cringed, turning on his toes to confront that total creep, Kline. He needed an excuse, any excuse. Wearily drawing a blank, he was forced to drag out the one thing he’d got in his pocket. His inhaler.

“I was looking for this. Figured I dropped it when I was up here, delivering room service. Seems I was right.”

“Nothing about you is right, son. You’re a gutter-trash, good-for-nothing, snivelling runt.” Kline looked at his own watch, tapped it. “You better hurry up, or you’ll be late for your shift.” His eyes narrowed to slits. “Unless you’re already on shift?”

Steve longed to cave the asshat’s teeth in, break his nose, then scream in his ‘snivelling runt’ face. Instead, he muttered, “Don’t start for two minutes,” and dived past Kline to use the stairs rather than the elevator.

What did Kline mean, ‘Already on shift?’ Steve had been extra careful about not being seen entering Eddie’s suite, or even inside it. Anyhow, what he did in his free time was up to him, right?

Dream on. He rules the roost in this hotel. He’ll want a cut, or worse.

Steve slopped way more coffee than usual at breakfast. Even his trainee-sous-chef ally, Robin, hollered at him when he forgot to pick up the hollandaise to go with an Eggs Benedict. Kline told him to take the rest of the day off—without pay, naturally. He was heading off, when Robin came running after him. “Steve, wait!”

“What?” He hooked his hands on his hips.

“I’m sorry I yelled,” she said, dropping her voice to a whisper. “Listen, however much that penthouse bum is paying you, you need a night off to actually sleep.”

“I am sleeping, Robin! Only not in a linen closet.” Okay, that was where he’d been heading, but only for a snooze. “Jesus, how many times do I have to tell you? Eddie genuinely is the best thing that’s happened to me in a fucking age.”

...

5.1 on tumblr or search #thefreakinthepenthouse)

Chapter 5 on AO3

Thank you for reading. Likes reblogs and comments much appreciated and will feed the bunnies🐰💕🐰💕🐰💕🐰💕

On tumblr: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3.1 Part 3.2 Part 4.1

On AO3 All my ST stuff on AO3

[themermaidriot]

I like cash and my hair to my ass (I do) Do the dash, can you make it go fast? (Go, go) Fuck the fame, all I want is them bands (Money) If she keep on muggin', I'ma steal her man (I got him)

[tboyblaze]

i like cash and my hair to my ass do the dash can you make it go fast fuck fame all i want is the gains if she keep on mugging imma steal her man he watch my behaviour cuz he knows im bad pussy put a spell on him he in a trance i do what i want you do what i ask he loves my confidence and thats what u lack

[enchanted-moura]

I like cash and my hair to my ass

Do the dash, can you make it go fast?

Fuck the fame, all I want is them bands

- Flo Milli💋

[imeverywoman420]

I vocally hate so much stuff. Heres some things i like:

Pictures of old Hot topics or spencers or malls in general. Really any pictures taken of mundane life in the 90s and 2000s

weirdcore and liminal spaces

i really like memes i guess. Always have hehe always will. I love just looking up Troll face spongebob. Squidward elf bar meme. Old 9Gag memes. I really love being silly online and its been a consistent thing for so long.

i like patterns like paisley and i like velvet and jewel tones

i like riff raff the rapper i think nes silly

freepypasta

^_^

Being mad but like for fun

criticizing things

sorting my small colorful objects (like makeup for example) into different baskets and containers

youtube on my tv not my phone or computer

i like cash and my hair to my ass do the dash can you make it go fast fuck the fame all i want is

[rosiedoestumblr]

40 looks so good on you, Ms. Rosie! I hope I’m as cool as you when I’m 40. I’m currently 28, and aging kind of scares me, but it’s people like you that make me feel like there’s nothing to be scared of. 🩷 Thanks for sticking around the internet (specifically Fall Out Boy spaces) as long as you have, it’s always quite a treat to see you on my dash. Have a good day!!

Aw, thanks dude! That's such a nice thing to say (I think you may be mistaken about exactly how cool I am, though). I know I'm really fortunate that having Sicilian genes and a chubby face disguises some of the ageing process, but bear in mind that (as with most people) the pictures I share are probably one or two out of 30 I took to find a couple from a good angle, with good lighting, possibly a Norfolk Terrier or a scarf over my chin to hide how many of them I've cultivated in the last 20 years... I also tend to keep my make up (except my eyeliner) quite natural, because I find that helps keep you looking fresh faced - but that principle shouldn't dictate what you wear.

Here is my stupid face right now, without make up and with unwashed hair. I developed adult acne after having immaculate skin when I was a teenager, possibly because my dog keeps standing on it or licking all over it. I have OCD and what is (appointment pending) probably about to be diagnosed as ADHD, so I'm a chronic skin picker, hence the scars all over my chin and forehead. I've also got fine lines under my eyes, bottom lip and on my forehead, but automatic settings on modern phone cameras kind of smooth the worst of them out.

The whole thing about getting older can be scary, but mostly because we've all been raised on the Boomer-generation's expectations, through movies, TV, adverts and the like, and a lot has changed. We're really fortunate to live at a time where being yourself is much more acceptable than it used to be, in most (although sadly not all) cases. Every advert you see is specifically designed to make you feel inadequate and make you fear irrelevance, but only so they've got an excuse to sell you something you can live without. Whether that's a fancier car or anti-wrinkle cream.

You don't actually have to do the stuff that really ages you, unless you want to. You can keep going to shows (to be honest, gigs have got so expensive we see more people our age there than younger people, who often struggle to afford what bands are asking). You can keep wearing band shirts. You can keep dying your hair and getting tattoos. You can keep being passionate about it. You're a grown ass adult, it's down to you to make your own choices. You don't have to give up what you love, but sometimes you have to be creative about the time you find in which to enjoy it. And you'll appreciate that more.

I've never wanted kids, so I haven't had any.

I never went to uni, but I fell into a career that pays me alright, and it's not an industry I care a lot about (I'm a gas safety contract manager) but I see it as a resource that allows me to do the things that I really want to, the rest of the time.

It's important to remember to live your own life, not the life someone else - anyone else - wants you to. You have to be pragmatic, obviously, and if you choose to settle down with another person then give and take will always be necessary, but don't ever let someone tell you what you can and can't be interested in because of your age (except you, Prince Andrew) or what you can or can't spend your own spare time and disposable cash doing. Keep loving the things you love, if they still captivate you. Fuck anyone who would tell you otherwise! It's the joylessness of giving up your identity to become nothing but your life obligations that costs you the most.

For my part, I'm pretty squarely between Patrick and Andy, age-wise. Fall Out Boy are my generation. We've grown up together, in a fannish sense. It's not like a TV show might be, where the characters are still young and I've gotten old in the last 18 years, they're still relatable to me, even now. Which is probably a lot of the reason I'm still here, specifically.

Watching the waves of new fans discovering the band over the years has been fun, really. Partly because it makes us truly geriatric emos feel like mystical sages sitting on the lonely mountain tops of Old Timer Fandom, offering anecdotes from bandom drama long ago, to young adventurers who approach us with news from the mists of TikTik to ask if things really happened, and witnessing the same things happening cyclically, every couple of years.

New blood means Pete will feel validated and Patrick will feel relevant they'll continue to feel they have something to offer/sell (look what happened when an album didn't do as well...) and it's hard to fault that.

Focus on enjoying your life and your interests as they are now (although do think about saving some of your money when you can, because you'll thank yourself later) and fuck worrying about everything else. You'll find you don't feel any different, when you get where I am, than you do now, anyway.

You have a good day, too. And thanks again for saying such kind things. xoxo

[thebloodykarte]

i like cash and my hair to my ass do the dash can you make it go fast fuck the fame all i want is them bands if she keep on muggin imma steal her man he watching my behavior cause he know im bad pussy put a spell on him he in a trance i do what i please and you do what i ask he love my confidence and thats what you lack if you think im stealing swag bitch come and sue me they watch me like im a new movie his baby mother is my groupie we got the club going up on a tuesday like an OMG girl im a beauty if it dont go my way i get moody flexin on you is my duty im the big dog my nicknames scooby

[wocs]

‘make sure you get it on camera’ I LIKE CASH AND MY HAIR TO MY ASS DO THE DASH CAN YOU M-

[theuniverseawakens347]

jealous; I want what you have .. pink shirt Jamba looking like India … for me ima revolve it around my hair and BASIC necessity to live - SHELTER CLOTHES N FOOD .. I fucked my hair up YES LEE YOU DID IT BUT AGAIN YOU TAKING MY SHIT AWAY THE ONLY THING MADE ME SUBMIT .. so I take ownership ima go learn to grow it and in the midst find style THAT MAKE ME HAPPY .. oh you did faux dreads .. I don’t have money for hair but I can do yarn.. 4 days to do 2 week keep .. shit cute as fuck .. fake septum idk might do that one day but let’s get a fake one … like it here n there not everyday.. tattoos 1st one DESTOR WHAT DESTORYS YOU … it’s a lot of pain crush that shit IN EVERY FUCKING THING I DO .. it surfaces process then move on… but don’t take real estate… you got into office to change the world cause you saw the issues.. but took real estate in letting it just fester AROUND THE GLOBE. . America. .. anyways I see YOU HAVE WHAT I WANT BUT I DONT WANT YOURS INWANT IT MY WAY .. NOT TO OUT BETTER YOU BUT TO FIT WHO I TRUELY AM .. - LESSON LEARNED THANK FOR THE GIFT OF KNOWLEDGE KNOW ITS TIME FOR ME TO GO ON TO THE NEXT BUILDING BLOCK OF MY LIFE .. INDIA YA TRASHA PANT BATHING SUIT TOPMHORSE BACK RIDING TRIP .. you did all this for a nigga who not checking for you.. to say you better then whatever person they date or them being on a they lonely to grow “ WHAT CAN I DO FOR RON ATTENTION” .. let me date his favorite person friend or designer what did he like .. oh we talked dreams let ME GO DO THEM AND FLAUNT THEM ON THE GRAM.. hopefully he checking .. what you like a photo so he can slide on ya page throw a hi n bye to keep his attention but bread crumb him… ur page n body look desperate … THIS THE PART THAT ANGERS ME NC THIS THE THINKING ALL AROUND AMERICA .. CHINA … SOCIAL MEDIA .. I GOTTA CONQUER YOU LIFE BY DOING IT BUT MY WAY BUT YOU CLEARLY THE ONE I WANT TO BE LIKE BUT KILL YOU .. and say I’m inspired … rihan why India get ya hand tattoo - “ I love fashion ( sexy baby voice on camera interview) I WANA be bigger than Rihanna” - goes n gets her hand tattoo same hand but “ ur own design” … RIHANA TIBETAN TRIBAL MARKINGS OF HER CULTURE OR WHAT SHE BELIEVES IN.. chest piece ya grandma .. India… you just a Jessika prankster .. I’m doing it cause you did it… meaning yo friends doing dumb ass shit for money you gon go the extra mile AND NOT TELL EM but rub it in they face n when they ask LEAVE OUT BIG DETAILS - Evelyn maze rages taking to Brian pumper but telling me each detail along the way when I’m already in the car and away from my shit “ oh just a party w celebrity ins” - cool maybe I can network… but this a porn star.. but celebrities all mesh ( my inner thoughts) but the bitch knew it was a set up to get slutted out- oh she did that with me I wonder what happens if we go to Stacy dash son spot cause we too deep in the valley from cash car and THE ONLY ONE W A PHONE IS EVELYN .. also I call my parents .. what are you doing to do bitch me out BC YOU SEE WHAT YOU SEE BUT YOU ALREADY THINK IMA FULL LIAR SO THERES NO REAL TRUST THERE TO BEGIN W … you WANA label me a loose villain bc I didn’t do something one time ur way - NATEANA and I tattoo go to the mall and meet up w some boys… but Lee planned it behind the SCENSE … like you want me to be a bad kid.. but I’m not HITTING THE MARKER IN FULL FOR YOU - but NATEANA is let’s put her in the crime sextour.. but keep her close to cashay Aja bc I’m hoping cashay gives me a reason to kick her out the house bc I don’t WANA be her mom anymore .. - we don’t like each other but she’s a good child been thru shit Howard John garlington

[pansexualkiba]

It's like William Shakespeare once said: "I like cash and my hair to my ass can you do the dash make it go fast"

[starsonmarsy]

me: starts getting flustered me immediately: I LIKE CASH AND MY HAIR TO MY ASS DO THE DASH CAN YOU MAKE IT GO FAST FUCK THE FAME ALL I WANT IS THEM BANDS IF SHE KEEP ON MUGGIN IMMA STEAL HER MANS SHE WATCHIN MY BEHAVIOR CUZ SHE KNOW I'M BAD PUSSY PUT A SPELL ON HIM HE IN A TRANCE I DO WHAT I PLEASE AND YOU DO WHAT I ASK-

[husbandette1]

WAIT WHAT IF I DECIDED TO BE FUNNY N KEPT CALLING U FLO MILLI ANON 😭😭😭 AGSHAH NO I KIDDING <333 BUT HELLOOOOOOOO MY DEAR IM SO GLAD TO FINALLY BE ABLE TO TALK TO YOU YOURE SO FUNNY

SUFJWJFJWJFNSBDB IVE LOST ALL SENSE OF EYE DENT TITTY........... 😳😳😳😳

[zesbian]

ladies did you hear Billboard chose Pillowtalk as one of the most defining songs of the decade

[company]

beef flomix is the itty bitty piggy of this generation