#barely got enough to pay a bill next week

[odysseys-blood]

fuckass artifact 😭

[delllamortes]

work keeps cutting hours i cannot afford this shit

[qwimblenorrisstan]

Lesson Learnt Pt. 2 | John Price x Reader

Summary: After the initial incident that caused your meeting, Johnny sets you and Price up on a date at a little diner nearby.

Word Count: ~ 2.5k

Warnings: can’t say much w/o spoilers but random men, ghost being moody, Johnny being overly friendly, working in customer service…

A/N: idk what happened something possessed me when I made this, it was supposed to be fluff but then it exploded. hope you enjoy<3

Requests are open!

Previous | Masterlist

Weeks had passed after the initial incident, and your life had quickly changed.

You’d broken up with your toxic boyfriend, now wondering how you hadn’t seen it earlier, and why you hadn’t listened to all your friend's advice and thoughts on him. You’d moved out, blocked him on everything, and found a new apartment closer to your simple job as a barista. It was enough to keep the bills paid, for now. At least until you finally got out of college with your doctorate in nursing science.

Having been in college for nearly eight years now, and not living in the dorm (there were far too many incidents on campus for you to trust any sort of campus police, not to mention the generally shady system of coverups) made it a little bit harder.

Student loans were threatening to suffocate you, but for now, you would focus on one day to the next. All of this, the annoying days that drug on, or the hard times, would all be memories before you knew it, and it would be worth it. Or at least you hoped.

Today wasn’t one of those super slow-moving days where customers were ordering hyper-specific drinks or getting the suspiciously old lemon cakes, only to complain about how stale they were, as if you could do anything about it. No, today was relatively normal, customers minding their own business after ordering, coworkers having idle chatter.

“M’ taking my lunch break.”

You said to your close coworker, Laney. Her honey-brown eyes shifted over to you, and she nodded with a little smile.

“Don’t take too long, might miss some cute boys.”

She teased, knowing full well all of your opinions on relationships right now. You wanted to wait until you had a stable income and were out of school. She’d heard it only about a million times. You huffed a soft laugh, deft fingers untying the knot in your apron as you set it up on a hook, walking out to your car.

Lunch break was about 30 minutes, which was more than enough for you to drive to the nearest cheap restaurant and pick something up. Clicking your key button and heading towards where you heard the beep of your car, you opened the door, sliding into the worn leather. It wasn’t a new car, not by a long shot, but it was your old faithful, and it had served you well for nearly ten years in a row.

You started the car, muscle memory kicking in as you drove to that place right down the road from your work. It was past the chicken shop, a place you would refrain from visiting for a while after seeing some undercover cops staking out there one night.

You turned and pulled into the parking lot, glancing around before opening your door, only for the cold air to nip at your bare arms, when you decided to slip on the warm leathery jacket, with the fur on the inside. The one that the man, John, maybe, had given you. You’d lost the piece of paper with their numbers on it to the washing machine, but oh well. He didn’t look like the type to live around here, anyway, so it wasn’t like you were going to see him again.

Walking into the restaurant, you strode to the front, placing a quick little order and paying with your card, before choosing a small circular table in the corner to wait for your food. This place was usually quick. You idly scanned the guests. Two large men sitting together, chatting. An older woman and what was probably her husband seated with a younger man and woman. Maybe some sort of family double date? A nervous-looking teenager sitting alone, knee bouncing. An old, thin man seated at the far end, mumbling incoherently to himself.

Not unusual.

You pulled your phone out, idly scrolling through social media before your name was called, and you got up to go collect your food.

~

“You sure?”

“M’ tellin’ ya, it’s exactly what Gaz said she looked like.”

Simon glanced out at the girl his sergeant seemed so certain about. He wouldn’t lie, you did match the description pretty decently. Just as he opened his mouth to point anything out that fought against Johnny’s claim (just to spite him, obviously, not because he liked watching Soap get all frustrated and start rambling on for an hour on end), he noticed it.

“She’s wearin’ cap’s jacket.”

Johnny’s brows rose as he snuck another glance at you. You grabbed your tray of food, walking back to the small little corner where your bag was on the seat. You were wearing their captain’s jacket. The brown leather, the slight fuzz in the sides and insides, the buttoned pockets….he wasn’t sure how he hadn’t noticed it earlier.

“Hell’s bells, been wonderin’ where that thing went.”

Simon only gave a little grunt in reply, eyes narrowed on you before he glanced back at his food. He didn’t want to seem a creep. He already knew he was intimidating enough to the normal civilian, and one of his “I-want-to-eat-your-firstborn-child” glares (named by Johnny and Kyle) probably wasn’t helping.

“Sounds like Price’s found ‘imself a pretty birdie.”

Johnny lit up at those words, a devilish grin lighting his features, one that Simon usually only saw before he demolished buildings or people with explosives. He was already dreading it before it came out of his mouth.

“We shoul’ set ‘em up on a date.”

“No.”

“Don’ tell me it wouldn’ be a good idea. Might keep him from giving us so many sprints at training, yeah? Ya know he’s been overworkin’ us lately…”

The slight pause Simon took was all Soap needed to continue spewing his disarming, convincing words that usually always worked on his Lieutenant. His lips further curled into a grin as he went on.

“He’s been so tense lately, jus’ let us do this for ‘im, help him relax some…”

“Fine. Get on wit’ it.”

Simon finally relented, suddenly finding his food very interesting to look at as Johnny got up, striding over to you with a confidence one could only expect from the Scotsman.

He glanced up, trying to subtly watch as his sergeant approached you. You were on a call with someone, the phone held up to your ear by your shoulder while you ate your fries, the main entree of your order already gone. When Johnny walked up, you immediately sized him up.

Paranoid. Simon didn’t blame you, living on this end of town. The only reason he and the guys stayed here was for the cheap flats they could get when on leave for a few months. Price had a little house more up South, but never visited it much, letting it gather some dust.

You took the phone from your ear, muttering something to whoever was on the other end, and hanging up. You raised a brow at Johnny, who in turn gestured to your jacket and struck up a conversation. Johnny was trying to look unthreatening, he could tell. Sitting down so he wasn’t standing over you. A small, easygoing smile. Trying to make you laugh, and succeeding a bit.

Five minutes in, and you were seeming more comfortable with him. He wrote something down on a napkin from your table with a pen in his pocket, handing it to you, giving a teasing wink which you snorted at, and walking back over to his and Simon’s table with a huge smile.

“Wha’ did you just do?”

Simon asked, suspiciously eying Soap.

“I set our cap’ up with a date.”

He beamed, and Simon only sighed, knowing that Price wouldn’t take it too well to be sent on a date with a girl he’d only just met a few weeks ago. A girl that hadn’t texted him since. But maybe, just maybe, it would go decently.

~

That had been one of the strangest encounters in your life.

A Scottish man introduces himself as a friend of Price’s, saying something about working together at their jobs and telling you he recognized the jacket you were wearing. So much for not ever seeing John Price again, considering his friend had just set the two of you up, and given you the man’s number too. All the while the gruff-looking man had sat at Johnny’s table, watching the interaction.

It had made you more than a little nervous, but nothing had gone bad. The Scotsman had been friendly, and even funny, but not pushing too far.

And now you had a date on Friday night.

When you got back to work, off of lunch break, Laney helped you into your apron, tying the knot for you like she always did.

“You’re late, what took so long?”

She knew you weren’t usually ever late. Always on time, punctual, even. You managed your time properly.

“You wouldn’t believe it if I told you.”

She grinned at that, nudging you with an elbow as you started taking orders.

“C’mon, spill it.”

And you did.

You began with the incident a few weeks ago, which she’d mostly already heard about, then told her all about the Scotsman and his friend, and finally the date on Friday. Right when you were about to finish the story, you felt your phone buzz, and you took it out to check it despite usually keeping it on Do Not Disturb. A text from an unknown number, but you knew who it was.

“Sorry for my muppets bothering you, they don’t know how to keep their mouths shut.”

You snorted in undignified laughter, replying while an older customer complained, mumbling something about ‘this generation and their phones’.

“I’m assuming you’re talking about Johnny?”

“Yes, the one that barely talks in coherent English.”

“Aw, he was funny. I liked him.”

“Don’t go liking him too much. We apparently have a date on Friday.”

“I’ll see you there, then?”

“See you there.”

You finally silenced your phone, slipping it back into your pocket as you went back to work with a noticeable pep in your step and a warm, fuzzy smile you offered to customers.

Laney certainly noticed.

When your shift was over, ending quickly, she talked to you while walking out to the parking lot through the back exit.

“I can help you get ready for the date, if you want?”

She offered. You’d be stupid to deny, with the impeccable makeup and fashion sense that she had.

“Sure, I can swing by at 3. That’ll give you plenty of time.”

“You have any shifts the rest of the week?”

“Barely. Just little half-times I squeezed in between lecturers. Last year’s always the busiest.”

“See you Friday, then.”

You beamed at her, sliding into your car as she walked to your own.

“See you Friday.”

~

Some of the days passed in a blur, some dragged on slower than ever before.

Eventually, though, Friday rolled around, and you were sitting in your friend’s chair as she did your hair, your makeup light, but good. You were wearing a simple outfit, some clean jeans, and a cute brown sweater over your white shirt.

It was 4:30, and you had only thirty minutes to haul your ass out to the nice diner the both of you were meeting at for dinner.

“It’s fine, I need to go. Seriously.”

Laney gave you a look, but reluctantly started putting all her things away. You hugged her, mumbling thanks in her ear, before grabbing your purse that had all of your things in it and walking to the exit of her quaint home.

You drive to the diner, finding the parking lot to have the familiar old car you’d seen Price driving in the first place. You parked got out of the car, and walked into the diner, only for the server up front to inform you that you’d already been paid for, and she led you to a table where Price was seated.

He’d tried to dress nicely, you could tell. Beard combed and hair done, dressed in jeans and a comfortable-looking dress shirt. He gave you a small smile as you slid into the booth, and there was already a tray of crinkle-cut fries in the center.

“Hope you didn’ mind that I ordered, big fella like me needs a lotta food.”

He said with a chuckle, and you grinned.

“I don’t mind, trust me, my older brother devours food like no other.”

He smiled, a little bob of his head before his brow raised in mild curiosity.

“You got a brother?”

A nod.

“Yeah, name’s Gary. He’s quiet, but we love ‘im for it.”

“Me and the boys are just about brothers, wish they’d be quiet for once.”

You snorted at that, taking a sip of your water before the waitress came by and you ordered your meal. Price’s was the first to come out, he’d ordered a full English breakfast that the diner somehow served, despite it being around dinner time. Yours came out next, and you both idly chattered about your life, family, jobs (he was apparently military and off on leave right now, not that you minded), and whatnot.

When he was about more than halfway through his food, his phone began buzzing, and his face went serious as he held a small finger up to you with a slightly apologetic expression, taking the phone call.

He listened, and you simply continued eating your food, not minding. Everyone had to take important calls every now and then, sometimes it just wasn’t avoidable.

He gave a few gruff yes’ and no’s, before sighing as he replied for one last time into the phone.

“I’ll be right there.”

When he clicked off the call, shoving his phone into his pocket, he gave an apologetic look.

“It’s an emergency, can’t stay. ‘M sorry.”

You nodded in understanding.

“Is everything alright?”

You asked, and he nodded, face set in what looked like a grim determination. He called a waitress over, paying the bill before you both got up. He gave you a light pat on the shoulder as you both walked out, right before you went to your car.

“We could do this again, if you’d like. With no interruptions.”

“I’d like that.”

He breathed an audible sigh of relief at that.

“I’ll text you when I can.”

Before he began walking to his car, getting in. You walked to yours, opened up the driver’s side door, and slid in before you saw his jacket sitting on the passenger seat. Cursing to yourself, you grabbed it, having it in mind to go take it to him before he left.

Before you could move, though, a hand clasped over your mouth.

A cold prick of pain in the back of your neck. Liquid.

“Don’t scream.”

A voice warned as if you could make any noise at all with a hand over your mouth.

An overwhelming sense of heaviness overtook you, and your vision began swimming, before turning black as your eyes fluttered closed.

“What’re we getting ‘er for?”

“Bargaining chip.”

Tags:

@yearninglustfully

@ashy-kit

@theoslove

@mayoforthewin

[total-dxmure]

✦ MARLEY AND ME →【ELLIE WILLIAMS】→ CHAPTER TWO

pairing: modern!ellie williams x single mom!reader

summary: you’re a single mom just doing the best that she can to make ends meet. ellie can’t help but think that you're the kindest, most beautiful girl that she’s ever met. compared to taking care a little girl that's in her terrible twos, coming to terms with the fact that you’re a lesbian is a walk in the park. awkward first encounters, ellie’s broken gay-dar, and her overwhelming urge to take care of the care-giver. . . the road to domesticity is a long one, but it’s well worth the pining that it takes to get there.

warnings: hella SMUT! in future chapters, eventual substance use, no use of y/n (you have nicknames/petnames), the reader is marley’s biological mother, talk of coming to terms with ones sexuality, mention of a shitty baby daddy ( though there is no co-parenting between them), ellie is a total girl mom, lots and lots of fluff, ellie is an anxious dork in this fic, reader is broke but happy, ellie takes pride in being a provider, this is going to be a multi-part fic, ellie is an absolute simp for the reader since chapter one and will remain her #1 fan.

⬶ previous chapter | next chapter ⤅

There were a thousand different ways to tell someone that you loved them.

For you, it could be found in the way that your hands shook with exhaustion after a long night at work as you reached up for the off-brand box of mac n’ cheese. You had your calculator pulled up on your phone, trying to make sure that you had just enough in your bank account for a week's worth of groceries.

Or, it could be found in the simple way that you prepared your daughter’s breakfast in the mornings. Half dead from working eight hours at the little diner, located right off of the interstate. After what felt like a never ending shift dealing with drunk patrons, the first thing you did after getting just four hours of sleep was make your daughter a bowl of oatmeal. You fixed hers the way she liked it- with fresh bananas and strawberries. Fresh fruit was expensive though. A luxury. It was something that you didn’t see yourself worthy of, not when your precious daughter loved it so much. So you stuck to a dash of milk and a few sprinkles of brown sugar, wolfing it down after going without dinner.

You were a single parent, and while your mom and step dad loved watching her while you were at work, you felt incredibly guilty that you didn’t have the extra funds to pay them back for their hard work. You had rent, power, and water to worry about. Plus your insurance bill was incredibly high because of your age, even despite the fact that you drove a car that was nearly as old as you were.

You said “I love you” every time you fed your daughter before you fed yourself. You couldn’t remember the last time you had eaten a meal while it was still hot off of the stove.

You said “I love you” when you didn’t complain. You refused to be defeated or beaten down solely because you were a young single mother. You didn’t want Marley to remember her childhood that way. So you bought her cheap toys to keep her happy. You let her wipe sticky little hands all over the few articles of clothing that you owned. You let her lay in the bed with you when she couldn’t go to sleep, despite the fact that you barely got any shut eye yourself. You carried the weight of her on your shoulders and never complained.

And above all else, you didn’t regret her for a second.

Not when her father abandoned you to do god knows what. Not when you gave birth with just your mother in the room. Not when your lights got cut off. Not when you lost most of your friends, because what young adult wants to hang out with a two year old all the time?

Marley was your pride and joy despite all of it.

So you tossed the box of mac n’ cheese into the cart when she started to reach for it and added the cost of it onto your calculator.

You looked down at your phone as you pushed the buggy aimlessly forward, not sure what else you needed to pick up. You stuck your hand into the front pocket of your overalls, leafing around for your shopping list.

“Uh. . . long time no see.”

Your head snapped up as you heard the familiar raspy voice in front of you. Your stomach did a few flips as you took in her tight fitting boot cut jeans and gray tank top. Her nose wasn’t the only thing that was splattered with freckles, but her revealed shoulders as well. Ellie had looked good in her work clothes, but there was something extra attractive about the way that she dressed in her free time. It was all about comfort and mobility. She didn’t need loads of jewelry, or even makeup for that matter, to be beautiful. You suddenly felt underdressed for the grocery store, hyper aware of the fact that you had only slapped on some mascara before running out of the house.

Your eyes flickered down to the basket she was holding, and you couldn’t help but smile at the fact that the only thing in it was a case of beer and a few microwavable meals. Her dirty, paint covered hand tightened on the handle, and she shuffled her feet before clearing her throat.

“I know I look like hammered shi-” She caught herself, her eyes widening as she noted that Marley was with you. “Poop. Hammered poop.” She corrected, motioning over her outfit.

You brushed her off with a wave of your wrist, making a small noise of denial. If she thought that she looked bad, you didn’t want to even think about how you must look in her eyes. You’d barely had time to run a brush through your wild hair before jogging out the door.

“Do you have the day off?” You asked her, putting some of your weight onto the buggy. Your daughter started to get antsy, so you reached down into the buggy and handed her the rabbit plushie she had insisted on bringing with her, only to toss it behind her the second that the two of you started shopping.

You noticed Ellie’s eyes soften as she watched your daughter hug the small stuffed creature.

“Yeah,” She looked back over at you, her eyes just as soft as they had been a second ago. Your heart began doing that funny thing. The weird pounding ache that made you feel like you were dying. “I scheduled some time off so that I could help Joel repaint the outside of his house.”

Her boots were splattered with white, and now that you were really staring at her, so was her pants. A few baby hairs were still stuck to the sides of her neck and forehead, probably from sweating in the summer sun.

“That was nice of you.” You said simply, chewing on the inside of your lip as you tried to find something else to say.

You didn’t want to make her feel uncomfortable, but it had been almost a week since you had last seen her, and she never had texted. You despised how sensitive you were, but you couldn’t help but see it as some sort of rejection. Maybe she had asked for your phone number instead of just giving you hers because she never planned on reaching back out at all.

“Nah, not really. He had an old Gibson lying around, so he gave it to me. That’s enough payment, I’d say.” She kicked an imaginary rock on the worn linoleum floor, trying to find a way to tell you that she hadn’t texted you because she’d been afraid without coming off as a complete pussy.

Your eyebrows knit together in confusion, and you spoke before you could even think the question through. “Gibson? Is that like. . . food or something?”

Ellie stood there for a second, lips parting as she stared at the confused look on your face. The longer she stared, the more embarrassed you felt.

‘Oh god, that’s totally not what she was talking about.’ You thought to yourself, damn near close to slapping yourself upside the head.

She had to place the basket down so that she could brace her hands onto her knees as she laughed. You had made her chuckle a few times the other day, but nothing like this. Her smile was so beautiful, her laugh so hearty, that you forgot the reason why you were embarrassed in the first place. Her laugh was as raspy as her voice was- if not more so. It was also loud. You were sure that people could hear it all throughout the grocery store, despite the loud 80’s throwback that was blasting over the speakers. You didn’t mind if people could hear her, so long as they knew that you were the one to inspire this sort of reaction. You’d happily continue to ask the dumbest questions on the planet if it meant that you got to hear her laugh like this again.

She straightened up, shaking her head a few times as she tried to take steadying breaths.

“I-I’m sorry. . . I’m not laughing at you. That was just- that was a really cute question.” You felt the need to look away from her green eyes. “A Gibson. Like the guitar? Ever heard of one?”

You did slap yourself upside the head, then promptly covered your face with both of your hands. “Oh my god. Of course. . . Holy shit, that’s embarrassing.” You whined.

“Hey,” Ellie smiled at you again. It looked like she was really starting to come out of her shell. All it took was you embarrassing the absolute hell out of yourself. You would have done it sooner if you’d known. “No ‘S’ bombs in front of Marley.” She playfully scolded.

“Right, right. Wouldn’t want a mini sailor as a roommate.” You looked over at the child in question, rolling your eyes as you noticed the poor rabbit’s ear practically halfway down her throat. “She has an odd fascination with trying to eat things that shouldn’t be eaten.” You explained, knowing that you’d have to toss her beloved stuffie straight into the wash the second that you got home.

“I mean. . .who hasn’t eaten something that they shouldn’t have? If bubblegum wasn’t supposed to be swallowed, then why do they make it taste so good?” She stuck one of her hands into the front pocket of her jeans.

“Don’t give her any ideas. I’m sure she’s going to be one hell of a gum eater.”

The two of you took a second to just stare at each other, unsure if the lack of contact should be mentioned or not. You were the first person to break and mention it.

“So. . . I never got a text from you. Was it the caffeine addiction or the two year old that scared you away?” You said it lightheartedly, letting her know that it wasn’t meant to be taken as a jab or a judgment of her character.

Ellie swallowed hard, looking down at her shoes so that she could come up with a way to gracefully answer the question. She decided that there wasn’t a smooth way to answer.

“Neither. I was. . . uh- I was sort of scared that you wouldn’t answer me if I texted you first. I was hoping that I would run into you again.” It sounded stupid now that she was saying it outloud.

It also made it sound like she had romantic intentions. Granted. . . she had hope, but she’d be happy just to call you a friend. If that was really the case though, she shouldn’t have felt so nervous to reach out to you in the first place.

It was nice being around you. It felt effortless, and you didn’t take her ‘rough around the edges’ personality the wrong way, like most people. She would like to blame Joel for her crass attitude, but she’d been like this far before she was adopted. The two of them just happened to be more alike than she cared to admit.

“How about this: you give me your number right now, and I’ll text you when I get home.” You felt ten times better knowing that you really had just been overthinking.

You handed over your phone, and smiled as she reached out for it, starting to type her number in. She paused for a second though, realizing that she was so frazzled over seeing you again that she had forgotten the phone number that she’d had since freshman year of high school. She wondered if it would be too cheesy to put some sort of emoji after her name, and decided against it. Her contact was saved under “Ellie Williams”.

It was right to the point. No nonsense. It was so her that all you could do was smile fondly down at your phone before shoving it back into the pocket of your overalls.

You were also guilty of reading her a bit wrong. She was far more shy and anxious than you gave her credit for. It was sweet, actually. Being forward wasn’t exactly something that you were very good at these days though. Your ex had. . . ruined you, for lack of a better phrase. You hadn’t dated in years, and while most would blame the fact that you had a child, you knew it wasn’t quite that. There were nice people that didn’t care about that sort of thing. Yes, they were few and far in between, but they were out there. The second that someone showed you even a bit of kindness that crossed the boundary of friendship, you often pulled back. Or away completely.

You’d always known that you were into women. It wasn’t a discussion that you had to have with anyone in your life though, because you and your ex had dated all the way back in high school. Queer kids often have some sort of “coming out” story, but you never felt the need to. After the messy breakup you hadn’t felt the need for romance. Were you lonely? Incredibly so, but you’d rather be alone than allow your daughter to get attached to someone only for them to leave.

Now that you were older, you started to realize that maybe you had settled with a man because that was what you thought you should do. Getting married and having children was just the thing to do around here. Living in a place like Jackson, there wasn’t a ton of representation. Now that you were more experienced in the ‘life’ category, it was safe to say that you couldn’t imagine yourself settling down with a man. It wasn’t because of the trauma that Marley’s father had put you through either, it was something that had always been there.  A part of you felt guilty that it had taken you so many years to gain the courage to be yourself, but you were far too young for it to be too late.

Or so you told yourself when the anxiety started to weigh down on your heart.

“Do you eat a lot of microwavable meals?” You asked her, pointing to the basket that she had picked back up after her fit of laughter.

She flushed. Like actually turned pink. You smiled as she let out a small groan, wiping a paint stained hand over her face.

“I was hoping you wouldn’t see those,” You didn’t feel as bad for pointing them out as you should have. Not when it gave you a solid reason to see her again. “I’m super busy with work, and after a long day of being around food, I really don’t feel like cooking for just myself.”

Bingo. She’s single.

The old fluorescent light above the aisle that the two of you were currently chattering away in flickered. The both of you looked up at it simultaneously.

“Well, if you ever want a home cooked meal. . . you could always come over to my place? As long as you don’t mind watching a two year old try to use a spoon. It looks like a murder scene.” You said, eyes still locked on the light. You were really putting yourself out there, and felt too scared to see her reaction to the question.

She forgot how to breathe for a second. Was she just being pathetically optimistic, or were you asking her on a . . . very casual date?

“I would really like that.” She breathed, nodding her head to emphasize the fact that she was more than happy to come over. Toddler and all.

Most people her age would be a bit put off by the fact that you had a child, but it was a nonfactor for Ellie. She’d had almost an entire week to fantasize about you. During her routine daydreams, she recognized that she wasn’t bothered by Marley. If anything. . . it made her like you more. You were capable, and she’d like to think that you were incredibly mature. Ellie needed that in her life. She would never vocalize it, but she wanted stability. She wanted happiness. She wanted you.

You made her feel like she was in high school again, which was good. The constant stomach flops and heart palpitations didn’t feel good, but she hadn’t felt this giddy about someone since. . . well, probably forever.

“Great,” You beamed at her, and once again she felt like she might double over. Was her hands shaking? Yeah. . . they totally were. “When is your next day off?”

“Sunday.” She answered a little too eagerly and nearly winced.

“Ah, that’s great! Same here. Well, how does five thirty sound? I’ll text you my address.” You, on the other hand, didn’t care how eager you sounded.

“Sounds like a plan.”

“-and then I just. . . jogged off.” Ellie recalled, taking another drag off of the spliff before handing it over to Jesse.

She gave him a small shove when she noticed his slack jaw and narrowed eyes. He fell back against the couch, shaking his head wildly.

“No you didn’t.” He denied, hoping that his friend wasn’t that awkward.

“No, I totally did. The keys on my belt were jingling with how fast I was moving to get out of there. I forgot like. . . half of the things on my list.” She was mortified. She wanted to shrink down into a small ball and die. She was hoping that Jesse would give her some sound advice, but she should have known that he would give her major shit before going all Confucius on her.

“Oh my go-”Jesse’s barking laugh turned into a fit of coughs. Ellie wanted to think that it was the drug usage and not her retelling of the horrific events from earlier on in the day that was making him laugh so hard. He wiped at an invisible tear on his cheek, followed by a drawn out round of repeated “oooh that was good”’s.

“Help. Me.” Ellie said through clenched teeth, zipping her gray hoodie all the way up to her neck.

“Bring her flowers.” He said with a shrug, taking another long drag.

“I can’t bring her flowers, Jes! What if. . . I don’t know- what if she’s straight and I totally weird her out?” It would be a nightmare to show up with a gift like that, only to have read the situation completely wrong.

“. . . Can’t you tell if she’s gay or not? It’s not uncommon for people to realize they’re a lesbian after having kids.” Jesse’s brows furrowed as he blew off the ash from the eye of the spliff, handing it back over to her.

She took another long drag for courage before letting out a sigh, the smoke curling out from her mouth.

“I can’t. . . I can’t tell when it comes to that sort of thing.” She said lamely.

Jesse’s jaw dropped for a second time that night. Ellie sunk back into her overly-comfortable couch, pulling her hood up and over her head so that she could disappear.

“I just thought you had a thing for straight chicks this entire time,” He gasped, reaching out so that he could roughly shake her by her shoulders. “But you’re telling me that you’re a flaming homosexual and don’t have a gaydar?” He’d known her since high school, and he was just finding out? Damn. . . this entire time he thought that she must be some sort of masochist or something.

“Yes. Are you happy now? I don’t have a gaydar, and I have no clue if she’s sending me friendly signals, so I’m asking for your help.” She needed someone to spell it out to her. He’d seen you at the restaurant, afterall.

“. . . Did you happen to see her nails?”

“It’s almost like you want to get punched in the mouth.”

✦ message me about being put on the taglist!

@viswifetotallyreal​  @lillysbigwilly​  @overtrred28​  @corpsebridenightamare​  @gimalo135  @erikaar 

why not to buy tlou2 remastered (please read).

[damazcuz]

i dont have:

pto hours

savings

i do have:

I'VE GOT SHINGLES! and i have NO pto and i have NO savings left because this year has been devastating in terms of health issues. (Cancer scare, reccurent kidney infection, sepsis, acute lung failure, shoulder injury, NOW THIS.) 2024 wants me dead SO BAD SO SO BAD

I'm trying not to stress because I'm stressed enough but I barely made rent last week after missing so much work. I'm not worried about losing my job right now but i AM worried that I don't have enough money to pay bills and buy food and make next month's rent. I had to leave work early yesterday to go to urgent care because the pain was so intense I couldn't work through it. My time card looks like shit

I don't even know what else to say but if you wanna send me a tip here's my ko-fi. Kicks a hole through the earth!

[xo-valxntine]

The Proposition (S. Gojo)

pairing: gojo x stripper!femreader

synopsis: you’re a stripper and satoru gojo has taken a liking to you. whenever he comes to see you, he always gets a private dance but tonight he has something else in mind

tws: 18+ mdni!!!!, smut w/ plot!, cheating (gojo is married), somewhat established relationship (gojo comes to see you quite frequently), pet names (baby, princess, good girl), nippleplay, oral (f + m receiving), fingering (f receiving), unprotected sex, semi public sex (private room at a strip club), mentions of alcohol wc: ~4,600

a/n: i haven’t written smut in so long so pls bare with me. i had a black woman in mind when i wore this but descriptions are ethnicity neutral :) i’m thinking abt maybe making this into a mini series? anyway, i hope you enjoy

It was a typical Tuesday night at the strip club, slow with a few men coming in here and there. Mondays and Tuesdays were typically slow, considering the weekend had come and gone. You had already done a few dances, but since it was slow you had only garnered about $100. It was so little, even for a Tuesday night. The night before you were able to gain just under $300. If this was a sign as to how the week was going, you were certainly screwed. You had bills coming up and you weren’t sure how you were going to pay them. You let out a sigh and push your thoughts away. You had to focus on making the most you could, so you went to freshen yourself up before your next stage set. You’re fixing your makeup when your friend enters the room unexpectidly.

“That guy with the sunglasses is looking for you.” She says approaching the mirror.

You scoff in reply. Satoru Gojo. One of richest men, if not the richest man, in the city had become one of your semi-regulars. He’d come in about once a week to see you and he was always wearing those stupid sunglasses in the club.

“He can wait.” You say as you continue to touch up your makeup in the mirror.

“You really don’t care, do you?” Your friend laughs.

You shrug. Gojo always tipped you better than any customer that came in, but it was never enough to make you fall to your knees. You weren’t one to complain, though. Money was money and you definitely needed it.

“Not in the least bit.” You say moving on from your makeup and fixing your hair.

“The richest man in the city is obsessed with you and you don’t care?”

“I’d hardly say he’s obsessed with me.” You reply. Your friend kisses her teeth.

“I’d beg to differ. The only reason he comes in is to see you.” She says. “He’s obsessed. I bet you could easily be with the richest woman in the city.”

You laugh at her.

“Be serious.” You say doing your last touchups. “Isn’t he married anyway?”

Your question didn’t really mean much, though. Married men came in all the time, it was nothing strange to you. Your friend shrugs.

“I think he’d leave her for you.” She says with a smile. You laugh and turn towards her.

“How do I look?”

“Sexy. I can see why he’s obsessed with you.” She says, after giving you the once over.

“He’s not obsessed with me.” You reply easily. “Okay. Back out I go.”

You make your way to exit the dressing room and your friend calls after you.

“If you don’t want him, I’ll take him!”

You simply shake your head and exit the room.

As you walk out to the floor, the music is loud, the lights dim, and there are a couple of men scattered across the club. Honestly, you had grown used to club life and there were aspects of it that you actually enjoyed. You loved dancing and loved the persona you created when you were performing. Sure it was exhausting, but you got a thrilling rush of adrenaline when you danced. You liked how the men’s eyes swept over your body, wanting something they’d never be able to have. All of them were fawning over the false fantasy you sold.

You approach the stage and swap places with one of the other girls, ready to start your set. The dj announces your stage name and you plaster your face with the most angelic smile. You start your set by walking around the pole a few times and your attention is captured by bright white hair. Gojo’s smiling and despite the sunglasses covering his eyes, you know he’s staring directly at you. You do your best not to roll your eyes and begin dancing.

Suddenly, the music takes over you and the way you dance and swirl around the pole is effortless. You can hear the men watching you get excited as you swing yourself around on the pole and do a few tricks.

A few men hand you bills while you’re dancing, but most of them just watch. There were two types of men that watched, those that watched because they had no money to give and then there were those that watched and tipped you afterwards. You always found the former annoying. You couldn’t stand the ones that only paid the entry fee and then didn’t have anything else to give. Why were they here if they didn’t have money? Satoru, however, was the latter. He watched you and then would book a private dance with you. He did this every time he came to the club, without fail.

You continue dancing, stripping off your lingerie in the process. You found your way to the floor and roll your body sensually, watching the men as their eyes rake over your body. You smirk at them and proceed through your floor routine. You click your heels together, gaining more of their attention. You fan your legs open, putting your pussy on display, before closing your legs and moving to your knees. In that moment, your eyes find Gojo, and you swear you saw him bite his lip for a split second.

As you finish your set, a few more men hand you more bills and you thank them before exiting the stage. When you return to the dressing room you immediately gulp down water. You did your best not to show it when you were performing, but dancing took a toll on your body. As much as you loved it, it was exhausting. Honestly, you were tired and ready to go home. So, you stuff your money into your bag and pull out a change of clothes. You’re pulling your shirt over your head when you’re suddenly interrupted.

“Y/N, that guy wants to see you.” the house mom says coming in. You let out a huff.

“Well, tell him I said fuck off. I’m not in the mood to see him tonight.” You reply. It was a slow night and you were ready to leave. You just wanted to pour yourself a glass of wine and relax for the rest of the night.

“He says he’ll give you double what he gave you last time if you come see him.”

Double?

You consider it for a moment. You had been complaining all night about how it had been slow and now here was an opportunity for you to make up for it. The last time he was here, Gojo had paid for his dance and tipped you $500. If you saw him tonight then he would pay you a grand. You did really need the money. You let out a sigh.

“Tell him, I’ll be there in 5.”

After freshening up and pulling on a new lingerie set, you make your way to the private room Satoru always booked. You shove open the door and find Satoru sitting on the sofa with his legs spead wide open, facing the small stage. You make your way over to Satoru and sit on the stage across from him.

“What do you want Gojo? I’m not really in the mood.“ You say annoyed.

When Gojo booked a private dance with you the first time you kept the angelic persona he originally saw on stage, but that soon faded when Gojo started booking more private dances with you. He kept riling you up and one day you finally snapped at him. You were taken aback at the fact that you had lost your calm and you were sure Gojo wasn’t going to book with you anymore, but in that moment he only chuckled and told you “I like this you better.”. After that, you didn’t use your false persona around him.

“Now, that’s no way you should speak to your best customer.” Gojo replies with a smirk on his face. You roll your eyes.

“Tell me what you want, Gojo.”

Gojo motions for you to come closer to him and you eye him for a moment. You really weren’t in the mood for this, but the thought of money flashes across your mind and you make your way over to him. You stand between Gojo’s legs and his fingers trace lingerie on your body. Customers weren’t allowed to touch dancers, even during a private dance, but on account of Gojo tipping you so much, you allowed him to sneak in a few touches here and there. Though, he had only grown bolder the more he saw you.

“I like this set on you.” He whispers quietly, still tracing the lingerie. Behind his sunglasses, you’re sure his eyes are dragging against your body.

“You’re really starting to piss me off, Gojo.”

Gojo lets his hands fall down to his sides and he smirks at you.

“Dance for me, baby.” He says in a sultry tone.

You oblige, but only because he was paying you double your usual. You begin swirling your hips around and dancing for him. You grind gently into Gojo and throw your head back against his shoulder as you roll your body. This position leaves your neck exposed and you feel Gojo’s lips gently brush against your neck and then your ear. This, however, doesn’t faze you. Gojo always got too close to you.

“I have a proposition for you.” He whispers against your ear.

“Oh yeah? And what’s that?”

You’d become used to the games that Gojo played with you. He’d liked playing games with you and saying outlandish things to see your reaction.

“You sure you want to hear it?” He says brushing your thighs gently.

“Just spit it out, Gojo.” You say as you continue to swirl your hips around him. His breath tickles your neck and even though, Gojo said outlandish things all the time, you’re surprised at what comes out his mouth.

“Let me fuck you.”

You freeze your movements. Gojo had always made suggestive comments to you all the time, but he’d never actually said he wanted to fuck you.

“You can’t be serious.”

“Come on, princess. Let me show you a good time.” Gojo says, slowly drawing a line from your knee to your hip.

“I’m not going to let you fuck me, Gojo.” You say and continue with your dance. This had to be another one of his games.

“Why not? I promise, I’ll take good care of you.” Gojo says, resting his hands on your hips.

“You’re not fucking me, Gojo.” You say, swaying your hips side to side. “Definitely not for free, anyway.”

“Oh?” Your statement had piqued Gojo’s interest. “So how much would it take? A grand? Maybe five?”

You scoff.

“Aren’t you married?” You ask and Gojo laughs humorlessly.

“You think I’d be here with you if I cared about her?”

“Stop toying with me.”

“Oh baby, I can do a lot better than this.”

Your dance has led you back to being face to face with him. Gojo was wearing a boyish smirk. He licks his lips before speaking again.

“So tell me, how much would it take to feel your pretty pussy squeezing my cock?” Gojo asks, tapping his finger against your abdomen.

You consider it for a moment. Five grand was a lot of money and you really did need the money. And it’s not like Gojo was some sleaze, propositioning you. He was actually attractive from what you could tell, would it really be that bad to let him? It would only be one time, right? And it wasn’t like you were the one that suggested it…

“Five grand. In cash.” You say, eyeing him carefully. You still weren’t entirely sure if he was messing with you or not.

“Done.” Gojo replies a little too quickly. You tilt your head to the side.

“Stop playing games with me, Gojo.” You say.

Gojo reaches up to his face and pulls off his sunglasses. Your eyes widen at the sight of his cerulean blue eyes, staring directly into yours. Gojo came in to see you quite frequently, but you’d never seen his eyes. He was always wearing those stupid sunglasses. Now you understood why. You hated to admit it, but his eyes were gorgeous.

“I’m serious.” He says, not looking away from you. You decide to look away instead.

“Five grand.” You say, still not looking at him. “With the double you promised earlier.”

Gojo laughs quietly, but through the corner of your eye, you can see him nod.

“Anything you want princess.”

You return your gaze to him and Satoru is looking at you with desire in his eyes.

“Okay.” You say, agreeing to his proposition.

Gojo’s mouth was on yours in an instant. His lips are soft against yours and you can taste a trace of gin on his tongue. He kisses you with ferocity and it’s almost as if he’s trying to swallow you whole. Gojo pulls away from your lips and kisses your jaw gently, before making his way to your neck. His hands trail down your body while he nips at your neck. The feeling of his hands on you is exhilarating and you let out a soft moan when his lips find your sweet spot. He carefully slips his hand behind your back and unclasps your bra. Gojo cups your newly freed breasts and kneads at them. You can’t control the moan that slips out as he gently circles your nipples with his thumbs.

“Fuck, I’ve been waiting to do this for so long.” Gojo whispers, brushing his lips across your jaw.

He continues to toy with your nipples, pinching and pulling at them lightly and then running his thumbs over to soothe the sensation. He trails his lips down your neck and collarbones before peppering kisses along your breast and slipping your nipple into his mouth. Gojo pinches and twists one nipple while swirling his tongue around and sucking the other. You can’t stop the lewd noises from coming out your mouth. The way his tongue flicked against your nipple was sending you into a daze. Gojo lets your nipple fall out of his mouth with a pop before pinching and gently tugging at it.

“You’re making such pretty noises for me, baby.”

You want to say something smart back, but you’re unable to as Gojo picks you up and places you on the stage. Gojo traces a teasing finger around each of your breasts, down your stomach, and drags it agonizingly slow up and down your thighs. You involuntarily shudder at his touch. You rub your thighs together hoping for some sort of relief.

“Gojo if you’re going to do something, do it already.” You say, not appreciating the way he was teasing you.

“It’s Satoru.” He says, giving your nipple a rough pinch. You whine in response. “And for five grand, I think I’ll take my time with you.”

His hands trail lazily down your body once more before pulling your panties off and shoving your legs open roughly. Satoru positions himself between your legs and uses his thumbs to gently spread your lips a part.

“So pretty.” He says before using one of his thumbs to gently massage your clit. You can’t help the whimper that slips out of your mouth.

“You like that, princess?” Satoru asks, looking at you with a smirk. He continued teasing your clit and you didn’t want to admit it, but Satoru’s touch was intoxicating. You wanted more.

“Satoru, please.” You whine.

That awakes something in Satoru and he quickly attaches his mouth to you, causing you to arch your back. Satoru uses an arm to pin you down under him and teasingly swipes his tongue up your folds. You let out a sigh at the feeling of his tongue on you. Satoru swirls his tongue around your clit, licks up your folds, and then dives his tongue into your hole. You whine at the feeling of his tongue lolling against you.

“F-fuck Satoru. D-don’t s-stop.”

Satoru takes this as an invitation to replace his tongue with his finger and moves his tongue to your aching clit. Satoru teases his finger out of your dripping hole and then adds a second. He pumps his fingers in and out of you and sucks gently on your clit.

“Feels so good.” You manage to slur our through your whines.

Satoru begins pumping his fingers in and out of you at a faster pace, and makes a come hither motion with his fingers. You’re a mewling mess under him and you can feel your high approaching.

“‘m g-gonna cum.” You manage to strangle out, completely focused on the pleasure Satoru is giving you.

Not long after you’re tumbling over the edge, spewing profanities. If it wasn’t for the loud music in the club, everyone would’ve heard you. Satoru continues to suck gently on your clit even after your high. You’re still sensitive, but that didn’t stop him from lapping up the mess you had made.

Satoru finally comes up and smiles at you. His smile stirs something deep in your core.

“Such a good girl for me.” He whispers before enveloping you in a kiss.

His tongue dances with yours, making sure you can taste every drop of yourself.

Satoru pulls away from your lips and gently strokes your cheek and then carefully traces your lips with his fingers. He pulls your bottom lip down with his middle finger and then slides his middle finger and ring finger into your mouth with ease.

“Suck.”

You’re taken by surprise at first, but then start sucking gently on his fingers. You swirl your tongue around his fingers and continue sucking. Satoru lets out a groan when you suck a little too roughly.

“Fuck, I wanna feel that pretty mouth wrapped around me.” Satoru says, pulling his fingers from your mouth. When he does a string of saliva follows and falls down your chin.

You watch as Satoru quickly frees himself and your eyes widen. You didn’t want to admit it but his cock was gorgeous. Satoru notices you staring and chuckles.

“Think you can take all of me?” Satoru asks cockily, tilting his head to the side. You quickly regain your composure and roll your eyes at him.

“Easily.” You reply. Satoru let’s out a chuckle and looks down at you.

“That mouth of yours is really going to get you into trouble, you know.” Satoru says as he strokes himself gently. You watch as his hand travels up and down his length. You swallow deeply and thoughts of him in your mouth quickly flood your mind. You lick your lips at the thought of him throatfucking you.

“Get on your knees for me.” Satoru commands and you oblige immediately.

Satoru positions himself in front of you and taps the head of his cock on your lips. You wrap your lips around him and run your tongue along the underside of his cock. Satoru lets out a quiet moan and you feel your core heat at the sound. You lower your head as far as it’ll go and take what you can’t fit in your mouth in your hand. You glance up to Satoru and your eyes meet his as you force your head down his cock. Satoru’s eyes are suddenly clouded with lust and all of a sudden his hands are on your head, shoving your mouth further down on his length. He throws his head back and lets out the most attractive moan you’ve ever heard. Something about seeing him that way only made you want to pleasure him more. Satoru continued to guide your head and thrusted in and out of your mouth. Your mouth was slick with saliva and you could feel drool running down your chin. You were completely focused on the feeling of him in your mouth and the lewd noises coming from his. You hollow your cheeks and Satoru let’s out a deep groan.

“F-fuck, princess.” Satoru says, thrusting into your mouth roughly. You gag as he slightly hits the back of your throat. Satoru continues his assault on your throat for a moment, then pulls out with a hiss.

“As much as I’d like to fill that mouth of yours, I need to feel your pretty pussy wrapped around me.” Satoru says. “Lie on your back for me.”

You do as he instructs and watch as Satoru yanks his shirt off and throws it somewhere in the room. Your eyes immediately rake over his toned body. You hated admitting it but, fuck, he was attractive. You’re taking in every inch of his body and Satoru notices you staring.

“Not having second thoughts are you, princess?”

You shake your head.

“Good.”

Satoru runs his tip against your entrance teasingly, before gently pushing in the head. You gasp at the contact and Satoru let’s out a groan. You can feel your walls clench around his length as he slowly sinks inside of you.

“Fuck, you’re even better than I imagined.” Satoru hisses through clenched teeth.

Satoru pulls back, leaving just the tip in, before pushing back inside you. He continues thrusting in and out of you gently. With each thrust your walls squeeze him, not wanting him to pull out.

You couldn’t control the whimpers coming out of you. Satoru felt so good inside of you. Your thoughts were completely focused on his cock dragging against your walls. He was filling you up just the way you needed. Satoru thrusts into you roughly and leans over you so that your body is flush with his. He continues fucking you as he peppers kisses along your neck and up to your ear.

“I’m going to fuck you, until all you can say is my name.”

Your insides twitch at his words and Satoru quickly picks up his pace, thrusting into you more fervently. The room fills with the sound of skin slapping and the slick sound of his cock diving in and out of your wet cunt. Thank heavens for the loud music at the club, or everyone would’ve heard the way Satoru was fucking you into oblivion.

Your eyes are rolled into the back of your head and Satoru’s loving every second of it. He lifts your leg to angle deeper inside you and slows his pace, fucking your deeper.

“F-fuck baby. You’re squeezing me so good.” Satoru groans.

He continues his agonizingly slow thrusts and takes note of the way you’re whining under him.

“Who’s making you feel this good?” Satoru asks, smirking down at you.

Your hands run against the stage trying to find something to grip onto, but your efforts are fruitless. Satoru continues his slow thrusts and it’s hard for you to focus on forming words with the way Satoru’s fucking you. Suddenly, Satoru pulls back, leaving just the tip of his cock inside you and you whine at the loss of him filling you up. You roll your hips in an effort to get him to fill you once more, but it’s hopeless. Satoru just smiles at your cock drunk state.

“Answer me and I’ll keep fucking you.”

Your cunt throbs at the idea of him fucking you more.

“Y-you are s-Satoru.” You stutter out, wanting to feel his cock inside of you again.

“There’s my good girl.”

And with that Satoru thrusts into you once more and somehow, you feel more full than you did before. He pumps in and out of you with perfect rhythm and with each thrust you feel your high building and building.

“G-gonna cum. F-fuck, ‘toru don’t stop.” You slur out.

Satoru can tell you’re close by the way your walls are tightening around his cock. His fingers quickly find your clit, making figure eights in order to guide you over the edge. The way his cock is slamming in and out of you and the feeling of his fingers on you sensitive spot is dizzying. It’s no wonder you’re a moaning mess when the pleasure comes crashing down on you.

“That’s a good girl.” Satoru praises you.

He curses at the way your walls are clenching around him. He watches as you roll your hips against him, riding out your high. You’re moaning his name and it’s sending him into a frenzy. His thrusts become sloppy and a moment later, he quickly pulls out of you, stroking his cock. Satoru pumps his cock a few times before cursing and shooting his load onto your stomach.

You watch as Satoru breathes heavily, lets out a huff and collapses on the stage next to you. He traces your collarbone with his finger and then strokes your cheek gently. You turn your head to face him and are met with those mesmerizing blue eyes. His white hair falls carefully over his features and you take that moment to admire him. Your eyes run over his features taking every detail of him, appreciating how beautiful he is, but the appreciation completely dies when he opens his mouth.

“Want to go for round two?” Satoru asks, with the same boyish grin he had earlier. You scoff and slap his chest playfully.

“Absolutely not.”

“What? Are you going to pretend that you weren’t moaning my name as I fucked that pretty pussy of yours?” Satoru asks, tracing teasing circles on your hip. You swat his hand away.

“I was totally faking it.” You reply, jokingly.

“Liar.” Satoru fires back, lips still tugged up in a smirk.

It falls quiet for a moment before Satoru speaks again.

“Is there anything around you can use to clean up?” Satoru asks, referring to the mess he made on your stomach.

“Pretty sure, there’s some paper towels in that closet over there.” You say, pointing to the door in the back of the room.

Satoru quickly moves from his place next to you and over to the closet. He rummages around before pulling out a roll of paper towels and making his way back to you. When Satoru passes you the roll you thank him and begin cleaning up his mess on your stomach. As you’re wiping away the mess, you watch as Satoru pulls on his clothes and replaces his sunglasses.

“We should do this again, sometime.” Satoru says, smirking. You can tell his eyes have a playful glint even though his sunglasses cover them. You scoff and roll your eyes.

“This was definitely a one time thing.” You say and move to put your lingerie back on. “I only did it because you were paying me.”

“Doesn’t mean you didn’t enjoy it.” Satoru says, watching as you pull your panties and bra back on.

“Where’s my money, Gojo?” You ask, crossing your arms over your chest. Satoru frowns at you.

“I told you to call me Satoru.” He says.

“Fine. Where’s my money, Satoru?” You correct yourself. Satoru motions for you to come closer to him and you do.

“I really do like this color on you.” Satoru says, playing with the band of your panties.

“Satoru.” You say firmly.

“It’ll be waiting for you on your car when you leave.” He says, still playing with your panties. His thumb traces circles on your hip.

“How do you know what car I drive? And what if someone takes it off my car before I get to it?”

“No one’ll take it.” Satoru reassures you. He rests his hands on your hips.

“Okay, and how do you know what kind of car I drive?” You ask again. Satoru shrugs.

“I’ve seen you leave the club a few times.” Satoru admits. You eye him carefully.

“Don’t tell me I just fucked my stalker.”

Satoru laughs and shakes his head.

“Not stalking, promise. I’ve thought about stopping by more often, but you were always leaving when I got here.” Satoru explains.

“Yeah, I totally believe that.” You say, moving away from Satoru and making your way towards the door.

“We should do this again.” Satoru calls after you once more. You roll your eyes and turn back around to see him smirking.

“In your dreams Satoru.”

“Most definitely princess.”

[nordschleifes]

what happens after midnight?

➝ it was just supposed to be ten months of fun and traveling the world. but you didn't count on your heart going against you

➝ word count: 6,5k

➝ warnings: sugar relationships, hospitals, smut

➝ author's note: finally a finished work!

The watch on your wrist indicated that it was 5:30 PM. Pursing your lips, you watched through the screen set up in hospitality as the blue and pink car pulled into the pits for the second time. The momentary confusion that took over the place was replaced by frustration when the engineer's voice sounded across the room.

— Let's retire the car.

The silence that followed could seem melancholic, even given the context. However, you knew that the man inside the car was biting his tongue, holding back all the words that the frustration of yet another race unfinished that season, on that very day, would make him shout over the radio.

“I’m not a kid to whine, Y/N”, you heard him repeat in your mind, the phrase accompanied by the mischievous smile that made your internal organs turn into jelly. You had no idea what it would be like to live without seeing that smile.

Seeing that he was out of the car, you got up from your desk and silently slipped through the halls of the team facility. Something about that lonely walk made your heart sink even more, until you found the door with his name, the white letters against the navy blue background.

Fernando Alonso.

Your paths crossed months ago. With your student debt growing and the salary you earned during your internship being barely enough to pay your share of the bills for the apartment you lived in with a colleague, you decided to turn to the suggestion of one of your friends, whose life you had given a turning point after registering on a website specializing in sugar relationships.

The first few weeks were unpromising. The guys you had expressed interest in seemed more interested in more pictures of your breasts than in actually talking to you and coming to an agreement. Until, during a break in your shift at the hospital, a suggested profile caught your attention.

The main photo appeared to be professional, taken on the deck of a yacht, and showed a man with dark hair and the shadow of a smile on his face with his arms crossed. The other images were more informal, one taken next to an airplane window and another in the gym, a headband and the bulging veins on his neck indicating that he was exerting himself.

In the profile description, he presented himself as Fernando, a 41-year-old Spaniard looking for someone who could accompany him on his travels in exchange for a generous payment. The idea of getting paid to travel seemed interesting, but it definitely didn't fit with your idea of continuing your studies to become a doctor in Miami.

That night, you ended up not touching the heart on the screen.

However, as fate would have it, at the end of your internship, you did not receive the letter of recommendation that you needed so much to apply for the residency program that you had dreamed of since the beginning of your degree. You were passionate about the field of pediatrics and the idea of working in one of the great children's hospitals in Florida, the Holtz Children's Hospital, were always in your mind.

— Y/N, it is clear that, despite you being an excellent intern, you have been making silly mistakes when filling out the forms and records — your advisor said during your last meeting — Furthermore, the reports are far below what we expect from a student with your ability.

— But, my grades…

— They are sufficient, yes, but the program requires more than grades, Y/N — he said, as he removed his glasses — It requires residents to be in their best shape, both academically and mentally. And it's clear to me that you don't meet the second requirement.

You blinked. Was it so obvious that you were tired?

— So, what should I do? — you asked, trying to swallow the lump in your throat.

— I would advise you to try to apply for it next year.

— But, what can I do until then?

— I would recommend that you rest a little before continuing with your plans — he replied, smiling — Maybe learning a new hobby would be good. That or even a trip around the world, who knows.

Leaving your advisor's office with your dreams postponed had been a blow to you. However, his words reminded you of the man who was looking for someone to travel with. Sitting in your car, you searched for his profile and, after a deep sigh, you typed a short message, a simple question.

Still looking for a travel companion?

The answer didn't take long and came in a playful tone.

So obvious?

Well, that's what it says on your profile.

Good to know that you read it.

I thought it was something basic.

You'd be amazed at how many women don't read it before sending a message.

I can't blame them, your photos are much more interesting.

The conversation between you flowed almost naturally. He seemed intelligent, good-natured and, above all, interested in your life and career, asking questions and sharing little details, like the fact that his sister was also a doctor, just like you wanted to be. It was impossible to deny that there was an interesting chemistry between you.

However, this was not a flirting game, but rather, a business deal.

Do you still want to accompany me on my travels?

Well, I wouldn't be answering you if I wasn't interested, would I?

Very funny.

I'm just being honest.

Looking at the three dots flashing on the screen, there was some anticipation building up in your chest.

I like honesty. It's a good quality.

I assume you're honest too.

I am. So much so that I want to do this the right way. Can we meet next week?

Will you be in Miami?

In fact, in New York. But I can take a detour, what do you think?

Perfect.

Your first meeting was at a high-end Japanese restaurant, located on Claughton Island, called NAOE. You even thought you were in the wrong place, since the space was completely empty except for the employees who were preparing the dishes next to the chef, who was wearing a sort of white kimono. However, after identifying yourself, the maître d' confirmed that you were in the right place and asked you to sit at the only table that had been prepared there, conveniently behind a bamboo screen.

Fernando arrived shortly after, making you jump to your feet.

— Good evening, Y/N — he said, before placing a chaste kiss on your cheek — It's a pleasure to finally meet you.

— The pleasure is all mine.

After settling in at the table, the waiter wrote down the drinks you had chosen before returning to the kitchen. However, the request from the man in front of you only made you even more curious.

— Aren't you going to drink anything tonight?

Fernando smiled a little.

— I don’t drink.

— Never?

— Never. After I realized that alcohol wouldn't make me go faster, I chose to give it up — he replied — I don't smoke either, if that's your next question.

—Actually, my next question would be if I can drink in your presence — you smiled.

— As far as I know, we haven't signed anything. You can do whatever you want.

Dinner continued without any of you mentioning the agreement that had made him fly to Miami to see you. However, at the same time as you were eager to settle everything with him, something told you to let him bring up the subject.

— Are you always this quiet? — Fernando asked, as he put down the glass of water.

— No — you said, after swallowing the piece of sushi you were chewing.

— So there's something bothering you.

— No, there isn't.

He stared into your eyes, seeming to read between the lines of your words. Then, he let out a sigh, reaching into his pants’ pocket and taking out his cell phone.

— You want to talk about our agreement, don't you?

— Well, that's what you came here to do, isn't it?

— Actually, my intention was just to enjoy some good Japanese food alongside an interesting woman — Fernando said, while searching for something on the device — But, if you prefer to get straight to the point...

He held out the phone toward you. When you picked it up, you noticed that there was a document on the screen, with the title “Relationship Agreement” in bold letters at the top of it. Something about those words made your stomach churn with tension.

— I asked my lawyer to write a draft to guide our conversation. However, I want to make it clear that there are some topics that are non-negotiable for me…

— Sex? — you asked, raising an eyebrow.

— Confidentiality — Fernando replied — I'm a discreet person when it comes to my personal life and the last thing I want is my face on the cover of gossip magazines.

— So sex is negotiable?

— You're very interested in this topic, aren't you?

— Are you not interested?

A mischievous smile appeared on Fernando's lips.

— No — he replied — It's in the contract, if you want to take a look. Page three, if I'm not mistaken.

You scrolled through the document until you found the section that talked about intimacy, reading it carefully. In the document, sexual relations and any contact that could be classified as such were completely prohibited, as your relationship would be limited to the emotional context.

— This means…

— That I don't want sex from you. I just want your company, guapa.

— And you're going to pay me for this? — you raised an eyebrow.

— Yes, as described in the section on financial support — Fernando replied — The trips will be paid by me, as well as all your expenses while you are accompanying me. I will also give you a monthly allowance to do whatever you want with it.

You looked at his phone again, thoughtfully.

— You'll have an apartment in Monaco too — he murmured, as he ran his index finger along the rim of his glass.

— I will? Why?

— Because I want you around, Y/N. Besides, making you come back here every time will be too exhausting. Believe me, the first time is amazing, but after doing this for 20 years, flying has become the part I hate most about my job.

Pursing your lips, you looked up at the driver.

— And how long would that be valid?

— Until midnight of November 20th.

That's how you agreed to become Fernando's traveling companion, as he preferred to put it. And you could only describe those last few months as “a dream”.

When the door to the small room opened, you jumped up in the chair you were in, waking up suddenly from your daydreams. On the wall, the clock indicated that it was already past 6PM. Walking through the door, Fernando held a white towel in his hand and a bottle of water, keeping his head down. Behind him, Edoardo, his physiotherapist, was saying something in Italian, which he wasn't paying attention to.

— Prepare qui le nostre cose e, dopo la gara, lasceremo tutto alle persone dell'Aston — the driver replied, before raising his head and finding you in front of him. Pursing your lips, you fought your own frustration to be open to accepting his. And today, more than ever, Fernando needed you.

Dropping his things haphazardly on a small table placed next to the door, he walked over to you in silence, allowing you to wrap your arms around him and hug him. The silence that followed made your heart tighten in his chest. It wasn't the end of the season he deserved, quite the opposite.

— What happened? — you asked.

— Water pump — Fernando replied, the irritation evident in his voice — That shitbox…

You let out a sigh, stroking the back of his neck.

— It's okay, Fer. Now it's over.

Lifting his head, the driver looked at you, brushing aside a strand of your hair.

— Yeah. It’s over.

— Are you happy? — you asked in a low voice.

— That it’s over? I think so — Fernando said, while you watched a drop of sweat run down his temple — But, I have the feeling that I could have done it differently.

— Differently?

— I think I waited too long, guapa — he murmured.

— But it's over now. And you will move on, to a new place, with new people.

Fernando smiled a little.

— Yeah, I will.

He walked away from you to change, taking off his overalls and underwear to put on his shorts and blue team shirt. Meanwhile, you approached the table where his things were, such as his cell phone, his pass and the blue cap he had been wearing all day. Taking the accessory, you turned to him, who was sitting in a chair, tying his sneakers.

— Your cap — you said, smiling.

— Is my hair that bad?

You nodded, causing Fernando to laugh before stretching his hand towards you. However, you didn't hand it to him, preferring to push the strands that were on his forehead before positioning the accessory on his head. After arranging the strands at the back, he stood up with a smile.

— Thank you, guapa — the driver said, giving you a kiss on the cheek before heading towards the door and, consequently, the cameras that awaited him. After the door closed, your eyes found the hands of the clock on the wall.

“There’s still a long way to go”, you thought.

Between meetings, photos, goodbyes, welcomes and a long break for dinner, you and Fernando arrived at the double room you shared late at night. However, contrary to what you expected that morning, you didn't feel relief that the marathon was over or anxiety about finally catching your plane back to the United States.

You felt an almost suffocating sadness.

— What time does your flight leave tomorrow? — Fernando asked, settling down on the sofa in the small hall that connected the rooms while you placed your bag on the table in front of the television.

— Eight in the morning, I guess — you murmured, turning your face towards him — Why?

— Not at all, I just — he hesitated for a few seconds, running a hand through his hair — I wanted to know.

— Do you want to take me to the airport?

— Sincerely? No.

The coldness of the response made your throat tighten. Part of you wished he had replied that he wanted to take you to the airport. Part of you wanted him to say that he would like to spend every possible second by your side before you, inevitably, had to follow your own paths, your own destinies, that weren't tied to each other.

— You think it will be easier this way, don't you? — you murmured, trying to hide the pain in your voice.

— No — he replied, his eyes searching yours. You didn't want to look at him, but at the same time, you knew that this could be the last time you would do that — I think, one way or another, it's going to be the hardest thing I've ever done in my life.

The silence in that room was the longest that had ever stretched between you during all those months of coexistence.

— Why would it be?

— It doesn't matter now, Y/N.

You pressed your lips together, feeling something tighten in your throat.

Going back to Miami was the last thing you wanted at that moment. You wanted to be by his side. You wanted to wake up every day to his voice humming some song whose lyrics you didn't understand. You wanted to see the smile on his face every time you commented on an article about pediatrics that you had read.

However, you needed to go back. Those last few months had just been a detour, a break from his monotonous routine. There were people, commitments, a residency whose selection you had passed with flying colors, a lifetime of taking care of children waiting for you to move on.

And moving forward meant leaving Fernando behind.

You didn't notice the moment the first tear ran down your face, nor the second. But you noticed the movement of the driver in front of you, approaching with heavy steps. Placing his hands on your face, his expression was serious, almost dark, contrasting with the heat in his eyes.

— I have to let you go in peace — Fernando said softly, his thumb sliding over one of the tears that was stuck on your cheek.

Your lower lip trembled. You just wish it were all easier.

— Please, Y/N — Fernando continued — Don't ask me to take you to the airport. Don't ask me to say goodbye to you. Don't ask me to see you leaving, because I won't bear seeing you get on a plane without me.

At that moment, you had no idea if you would be able to get on a plane in a few hours. Not without Fernando by your side, carrying his trusty black backpack and making some comment about having a sweatshirt ready for you to wear when you get cold during the flight.

So, you asked the only question your mind was capable of formulating.

— What time is it?

— What?

— What time is it, Fernando? — you repeated, seriously.

Still holding his face, he turned his wrist slightly to look at the hands of the black Richard Mille he was wearing.

— Two past midnight — he murmured — You’re free now.

— No, I'm not free — you replied, bringing your face closer to his.

— But…

— I stopped being free a long time ago, Fernando.

Fernando's expression seemed sad, which made your heart feel heavy inside your chest.

You didn't know how to explain to Fernando that you would never be free again simply because you were completely in love with him. So much so that you hadn't even realized the exact moment it had happened.

Maybe it was the day he saw you reading an article about early childhood nutrition and asked you to explain the impact of cow's milk on babies. Maybe it was the day he took you on his motorbike to a viewpoint so you could watch the sunset over Monaco. Maybe it was the moment he introduced his world to you, describing every detail with enchanting passion. Maybe it was the day you pressed that heart on your cell phone screen, right below his photo.

And no piece of paper could control what your heart felt.

Using whatever courage you had left, you tilted your head and closed your eyes, brushing your lips against his. The touch was delicate and subtle, but enough to fill your chest with an almost unbearable heat. You had thought so much about what that moment would be like, fantasized so much about the different possibilities, imagined so many times what it would be like to be in Fernando's arms, that you felt a little hesitant about continuing.

However, the decision about the direction of that shy kiss was made by the driver. Moving closer to you, he placed your mouth completely against his, hands sliding towards the back of your neck. After a few seconds, he pulled away, panting.

— Y/N…

— Please, Fer.

However, he pulled away from you, pain evident in his green-stained eyes.

— No, Y/N — Fernando said, in a firm tone — Don't make this more difficult than it needs to be for both of us.

— You're the one who's making it difficult — you replied, feeling more tears filling your eyes — I want this...

— But you don't need this — he growled — You need to go back to your city, to your apartment, to your life. And this life has no place for me, just as there is no place for you in mine.

The statement was like a punch in the gut. Taking a step back, the feeling was of having awakened from the best dream of your life to find a true nightmare. Mentally, you questioned everything that had happened so far, from the dinner in Miami to that kiss permeated by your desire for him that had been repressed for so long. “So it was all a lie?”, you thought, as he walked towards his room.

— Fer…

— Goodbye, Y/N — he murmured over his shoulder, before disappearing into the dim light, with the door closing behind him.

Your skin felt cold, even in the residual desert heat that remained inside the suite. It was almost unbelievable that this would be the end of those ten months of smiles, jokes and laughter as the two of you traveled the world. A dry and cruel goodbye, without even looking back.

Walking slowly towards your room, you couldn't help but feel a strange emptiness inside your chest. Dropping down on the mattress anyway, you realized how exhausted you were, both physically, courtesy of the intense pace of a race day, and emotionally, with the mix of completely opposite feelings that made your lower lip tremble.

You felt that it was unfair, that the way you were being discarded by Fernando was cruel, not to mention painful. And the worst part was not being able to understand the reason for that attitude, for that cold look that shattered your heart. However, your rational side soon began to whisper in the back of your mind, condemning you for believing that he could see you beyond who you were from the beginning.

An acquisition. A product. A pretty thing for him to drag around the circuits.

That realization made tears run down your face, anger and sadness spilling out of you and making you sob loudly. You even thought about smothering your crying with the pillow, but you didn't move, allowing it to echo off the walls of the room, until it lulled you into a deep, dreamless sleep.

You woke up to the sound of your cell phone's alarm clock. Rubbing your eyes, you stared at the ceiling for long seconds before finally working up the courage to get up from the bed and move forward.

Exactly as Fernando had asked.

As soon as you arrived in Miami, you decided to buy, with the money you had saved in the last few months, a studio near the beach, in addition to arranging the documentation for your residency at Holtz Children's Hospital, which was about to begin. Watching the fireworks that lit up the sea and announced the arrival of a new year, you promised yourself that the months to come would be better than the previous ones.

And by better, you meant no trips, no adventures and no crazy things.

No looks, no jokes, no laughter.

No men, no athletes, no Fernando.

The first few months passed in a blur. Hospital shifts took up much of your time, and your free time was spent reading articles about intriguing cases and organizing your new place. You didn't even notice spring arriving in the city, much less the anticipation for the great sporting event that the city would host in the following weeks.

You were making your first round of the rooms in the west wing of the hospital when, upon entering a room, you came across a little boy playing with a model of a dark blue Formula 1 car. Swallowing hard, you smiled widely.

— Good morning, Mrs. Melendi.

The boy's mother jumped up from her armchair.

— Good morning, doctor — she replied — Greet her, Omar.

The boy looked up at you.

— Hi.

— Good morning, Omar — you greeted him, placing one of your hands on the guard of his bed — How are you feeling today?

— Well — he replied, returning his attention to the cart.

— He spent the night better, doctor, breathing better. But he is still coughing a lot and complains of chest pain.

Accessing Omar's chart on your iPad, you pursed your lips as you thought. The boy's body should already be fighting harder against the infection in his lungs, but his history of asthma didn't make you so optimistic in this regard. This was one of those cases that would ask for patience, both from you and from the boy's mother.

— Well, the night has already brought a good sign. However, the cough will still persist for a while, as the body is trying to get this fluid out somehow. For now, let's continue with what was prescribed and I'll ask the physiotherapy team to send someone here to do some exercises to speed up the release of this secretion, okay?

— Doctor, does this mean I'll be able to see Checo?

You blinked, trying to process if you had understood correctly.

— Who?

— Checo, the Formula 1 driver! — Omar exclaimed — He's going to race here this week!

The Miami Grand Prix, you had completely forgotten about that.

— Ah, I see — you smiled — Everything will depend on your progress. If you take your medication correctly and undergo rehabilitation, I can try to release you by Friday. What do you think?

The boy agreed to your proposal, seeming excited about the prospect of seeing his idol race. However, as you left the room, you felt completely dazed, the memories of the previous year filling your eyes with tears.

That was a weekend of ups and downs, with a punishment causing Fernando to lose the measly two points he had managed to gain. However, those days had been worth it just for the opportunity to introduce him to your city and see how he was enchanted by every detail.

— Doctor? Are you okay? — someone asked you. Looking to the side, you found one of the nurses looking at you somewhat confused.

— Yes, everything is fine.

— Did something happen to Omar?

— No, he's progressing well — you replied, trying to compose yourself — I'm going to ask the rehabilitation staff to do a respiratory therapy session to speed up the drainage of fluids.

— Is the medication dosage still the same?

— Yes, everything’s the same — you murmured, before continuing your rounds, trying to ignore the memories that had been awakened during the visit to Omar's room. However, the task became more difficult when a notification with a painfully familiar name appeared on your cell phone during one of your breaks.

Hi, how are you?

Staring at the screen in almost disbelief, you took a few seconds to type a response, trying to balance your emotions in a single line.

Hello, Fernando. I'm fine, thanks for asking.

Are you in Miami?

Yes, why?

I found your sweatshirt in my apartment. I wanted to give you back.

The photo that accompanied the message made something turn in your stomach. That was your favorite sweatshirt, the first one you had bought when you entered university, and at that point, you had already come to terms with the fact that it was lost forever.

Oh, do you want me to go take it back?

No, I can give it to you. Where are you?

I'm still in the hospital, you can leave it at reception.

I want to hand it personally to you. I can stop by your place later, what do you think?

You were already regretting your answer as you walked to the entrance of your studio, feeling suffocated by anxiety. However, when you opened the door, it was as if you had come to the surface to breathe again, the familiar warmth spreading through your chest.

In front of you was Fernando. He didn't seem to have changed at all since the last time you had seen him, on that fateful night in Abu Dhabi. With a shy smile on his face, he wore a green shirt with the familiar silver wings of Aston Martin, the team he was racing for that year, as well as a white box in his hands.

“This color makes him even more handsome”, you thought to yourself.

— Hi — the driver said softly.

— Hey.

— Can I enter?

— Yeah, sure — you replied, opening the way for him.

The driver passed you silently, taking in the space you were living in. Seeing him there, in the place you had chosen to recover after the mess that had been that Sunday in Abu Dhabi, was strange, not to say wrong. However, this was definitely not the time to question whether his presence there was appropriate or not.

— Everything’s good? — you asked, trying to start a dialogue with him.

— Yeah, all very well. And with you?

— All good.

— It's yours? — he questioned you, gesturing with his finger to refer to the place.

— Yeah, it's mine. I bought it as soon as I got back here — you replied.

Fernando approached a shelf where there were some photos of the trips you had taken with him. There were images from all over the world, from Japan to Brazil, some with your silhouette highlighted or even his. However, he didn't seem to notice that particular detail, as he pointed to another framed image.

— Sardinia?

— Monaco. It's the beach in front of your apartment.

The silence that stretched between you was long, almost deafening. Crossing your arms, you tried to maintain a neutral expression, trying to focus on anything other than the charming lock that fell across his forehead.

— Do you miss it? — Fernando asked.

— Monaco? Not much, I didn't spend enough time there.

— And me?

You looked away to the apartment door, giggling awkwardly.

— I thought you were coming to give me back my hoodie, not do an interrogation.

— Here's your hoodie — he said, harshly, extending the box towards you — And this isn't an interrogation, Y/N. I just asked a question.

— About how I feel about you — you murmured, taking the box and placing it on your dining table.

— Is it wrong to ask?

— When that question doesn't make any sense, yes, it's wrong — you replied, looking over your shoulder.

— Why?

— Because it's wrong, Fernando.

— That's not an answer, Y/N — he replied — Come on, why doesn't it make sense?

Turning at once, anger rose like a hot wave across the back of your neck.

— Because you just discarded me like I was a fucking defective toy.

Fernando looked at you, seriously.

— You know that's not how I see you.

— No? And when you said you didn't have any space in your life for me? Isn't that discarding?

— Y/N — the driver murmured, running a hand through his hair.

— What? — you growled — Is this the way you show that you like me, that you care about me? Saying you don't want me near you?

You didn't have time to react before he advanced towards you, stopping just inches from your face. Fernando was so close to you that you could feel the heat of his skin, as well as the warm and slightly sweet smell of the cologne he was wearing at that moment. It was different from what he normally wore, but it wasn't all bad.

— Would you rather I forbid you from returning? That I stopped you from realizing your dreams? — he returned — Would you prefer if I locked you in a cage or put a collar around your neck to have you all to myself?

The words were stuck in your throat, your bottom lip trembling.

— I know my place in your life, Y/N. And I can't fight it, I can't fight the fact that I can't go further.

— Can't, or don't want to? — you asked in a low voice.

Fernando stared at you for long seconds, as if he was measuring his own words. Bringing your hands up to his face, you stroked the gray speckled beard you loved so much but had never been able to convince him to keep.

— I can't — he murmured, as his thumbs drew circles on his cheek — Y/N, please...

— But you want it — you stated, your eyes going down to his mouth, where his tongue slid to moisten his own lips — You want me.

— Yes, but…

— Then take what you want. Kiss me, touch me, make me what I was from the beginning, from the moment you looked at me for the first time.

The seconds of silence that stretched after your words seemed endless. Bringing your face closer to his, your nose lightly touched Fernando's, almost as a foreshadowing of what was about to happen.

— Make me yours — you whispered.

The moment his lips touched yours was sublime. Your chest filled with a hot, overwhelming sensation, your hands gripping his face tightly. At that moment, you tried to hold on to that feeling of finally being in the place you always imagined yourself in: in Fernando's arms.

It didn't take long for his tongue to invade your mouth, his hands squeezing your waist and bringing your body closer, as if he wanted you two to become one. And personally, that was your only desire at that moment, as you slid your lips down his neck.

— You've always been a naughty girl, haven't you? — Fernando asked as soon as you nibbled on his ear, your fingers squeezing your skin — So naughty, so beautiful...

Taking a few steps back, the driver escaped from you momentarily, sitting on the gray sofa you had in the living room. With his hands to your shirt, you didn't need any words from him to rip it off your body, your shorts sliding down your legs soon after. Taking in the sight of you completely naked for the first time, an almost boyish gleam appeared in Fernando's eyes.

— You are much more beautiful than I imagined…

— You mean you imagined me naked? — you questioned with a suggestive smile, while positioning your knees next to his legs, straddling his lap.

— It's hard not to imagine when you wore those indecent little pajamas of yours to bed — he murmured, his hands sliding down your thighs, while you supported yourself on his shoulders — That baby blue one was wonderful.

— Do you want me to put it on?

A mischievous smile appeared on his lips.

— Now that I've taken off your clothes, I'm not going to ask you to put them back on — Fernando replied, taking his hand to his face and, with a subtle movement, bringing his lips to his in a delicate, almost careful kiss. It was up to you, after a few seconds, to wrap your arms around his neck and ask for passage to explore his mouth the way you wanted.

Sliding his hands down to your butt, the driver made you stand up, bringing his face to one of your breasts. The soft touch of his tongue made you shudder, your fingers digging into his dark curls as a moan escaped his lips.

— I could hear you moaning all night long — Fernando murmured against your skin, his eyes fixed on yours, getting drunk with the pleasure in your expression — Asking, begging for me, the way I always imagined...

It didn't take long for you to start to feel the arousal become uncomfortable, almost painful. You needed more, much more than just kisses and nibbles on your breasts. Lowering your hips just above the not-so-discreet bulge in his shorts, you looked at Fernando, trying to condense what you wanted into a look full of desire.

Without saying anything, he repositioned you a little back, giving him some space to open the button and zipper of your shorts, sliding them and your underwear down. The movement allowed his dick to be revealed, hard and particularly large, with the veins standing out along its length. Biting your lower lip, you brought your index finger to one of them, following the path from the base to the tip, feeling Fernando's muscles tense.

— What do you think?

Looking up at him, you smiled.

— Good.

—Wasn't that what you imagined?

— It's hard to say, since every time I imagined your dick, it was in my mouth or my pussy.

Bringing a hand to your face, Fernando caressed your cheek.

— You are very naughty.

You chose not to answer, rising again to align your own entrance with his cock. Then, you lowered yourself, feeling him enter inch by inch, settling inside you. Closing your eyes, you allowed a moan to escape your lips, as did Fernando, who grunted against your neck.

After a few seconds, you started to move, testing angles and rhythms, until you found one that you liked. With your hands resting on his shoulders, you alternated between quick vertical movements, followed by slower, deeper thrusts. At that point, her breasts were completely red, marked by Fernando's teeth and hickeys. Marks that you would carry with pride, because it was his mouth and his passion that had done it.

— You're so beautiful — he growled, as his hands roamed over her skin — How could I have been able to let you go...

You couldn't resist the urge to kiss him again, searching for Fernando's lips as if they were the surface and you were looking for air to breathe. In that tangle of arms, hands and fingers, you felt complete. Finally complete.

— I'm going to... Oh my God, Fer, I'm going to cum — you whimpered, as you slid your hips back and forth, rubbing your clit against his pubic bone. Noticing the agony in your expression, he slid his hand until he reached your most sensitive spot. Then, massaging it, he brought you to orgasm, making you let out a loud moan, your muscles shaking and your head lolling back.

Beneath his body, Fernando took a few seconds before reaching his peak, spilling himself inside you with a loud moan, his hands holding your hips tightly to stop your movement.

The silence inside the room wasn't complete due to your heavy breathing. With your forehead pressed against his, your eyes were closed, absorbing that moment and the entire range of feelings that filled your chest with an inexplicable warmth.

— Y/N — Fernando whispered.

— Yeah?

— What now?

You moved your face slightly away from his, analyzing his furrowed eyebrows and anxiety-filled brown eyes. You knew it was impossible to turn around or simply pretend it hadn't happened, especially when you were sure you wanted to do it several more times. But did he want that?

— Well, we have two ways — you started, brushing his bangs away from his forehead — We can classify this as an accident on the road and go back to our lives...

— No, definitely not.

— Or we can stop fooling ourselves and actually live this.

— This? — he raised an eyebrow.

— This. Our relationship — you tried to classify it.

— And by truly living, you mean…

— Without pretending that we don’t have feelings for eachother.

Fernando pressed his lips together, looking away from yours. He was definitely hesitant about taking that step. And you were sure you wouldn't let him leave you there, with that doubt hanging over you.

— Do you want me to come back with you to Europe? — you asked softly, making him look at you again.

— Would you come back?

— If you wanted.

The driver let out a heavy sigh.

— I don't want to ask you this, Y/N.

— Why not?

— Because I don't want you to give up everything for me and my career.

— You talk as if this is the only place in the world where there are hospitals accepting residents — you countered, placing your hands on his cheeks — I'll find a way, Fer. We'll find a way. But I ask you just one thing.

— What?

— Don't leave me here, alone.

Fernando smiled, bringing his face closer to yours.

— Never, guapa.

[oneforthemunny]

love drunk |bouncer!eddie munson x bartender!reader|

​​prompt: you and eddie work valentine's day at the hideout.

contains: 18+. alcohol, creepy old guys at the bar, mentions of road head, jealous!eddie, dacrphilia, mean!eddie, oral fem rec, spanking, hair pulling, degrading, p in v sex, aftercare. minors dni.

The Hideout was buzzing, filled with an unusual crowd of unlikely people, but what else did you expect on Valentine's Day?

Broken hearted men washing away their bitterness with beer and whisky, next to galentines celebrating their own freedom and singleness with shots and bad karaoke. The usual boys who were prowling the crowds for women desperate enough to go home with them, spewing horrible pick up lines that usually left the girls cringing and retreating the other way. Then there were the couples, some regulars and some not. They came to celebrate at the high top tables, people watch and enjoy their time together.

You'd been busy since you clocked in a little after four. You knew you'd be here well past last call, but that was alright, because Eddie was here. He was working the door with Tony, both in all black, leaned up at the entrance checking IDs and taking covers. Before your shift, Eddie had picked you up in his van, a dozen roses in the passenger seat.

You'd blushed, gushing to him about how sweet the gesture was. Eddie was sweet, so sweet. You'd never met a guy sweeter. He'd shrugged when you kissed him, smiley and gooey insides. "Anything for my best girl."

The two of you had only been together a few weeks, barely breaking the title of being official. You hadn't expected the gesture really, especially because you both worked. You figured you'd fuck after you got back to his place, you had wore your matching pink set for that reason, but the flowers were an extra effort that had your head swirling.

You sucked him off while he drove you to work as a thank you.

Now, you were pouring shots, mixing drinks, opening beers, collecting tips, slipping the wadded fives even some bigger bills into your bra with a wink and a dazzling smile. You knew the crowd would be big, and the tippers even bigger- the holidays always made people more generous when you were pouring drinks down their throats- so you wore your tightest, lowest top.

Eddie had noticed.

His eyes would catch yours from the door, rolling his bottom lip between his teeth when you bent over, shorts riding up over the nylon stockings you had underneath.

"C'mon, man." Tony laughed, shoving Eddie's shoulder.

Eddie smirked, nodding to the desperate girl at the door, who batted her eyes at him, eyes attempting at what he could only guess was sultry or sexy. He didn't care. They never worked on him anymore.

You poured another shot of whisky, sliding the glasses to the men in front of you. "Hey, sweetheart, take a shot with us." The old man slurred, tie loose and around his neck.

You smirked, adding their drinks to his tab. "Sorry, I'm on the clock." You said with an exaggerated pout. "My manager will get real mad at me."

The men sounded off their displeasure, smacking the bar with open palms so their glasses rattled. "Who, Mickey? I know Mickey, baby, he-he won't get ya in trouble. Not a pretty thing like you."

You knew these guys were big tippers which is the only reason you hadn't had them cut off and removed. They had been whistling, cat calling, and spewing every lewd, vulgar thing that came to their drunken, filthy minds and you and Tasha all night. You both would just look at each other, roll your eyes, and go back to the middle-aged women divorcees who were much nicer and sweeter to you.

"Just one little shot, baby. Hell, I'll pay for it." Jack Harrington, Steve's dad, slurred, grinning at you with a predatory smile. No wonder Steve hated the guy so much.

"I'll do you one better," They guy next to him, Marco- you think, boasted, pulling out his wallet. He slid a crisp one hundred dollar bill out, slapping it on the table. "One hundred dollars and I'll buy the shot. Make it top shelf, sweetheart." He winked, the other guys whooping and hollering with him.

Eddie had looked over at the commotion, dark eyes narrowed on the rowdy group of men. He despised when they came in. Regulars and assholes at that, always hurling objectifying, nasty comments to the bartenders there. Getting so drunk they could barely drive home. They were especially rowdy tonight after dinner with their wives and mistresses, who they hated, before coming here.

Eddie was waiting, just waiting for you or Tasha to give him the sign. Give him the signal that they needed to be gone. He'd take complete joy in tossing them out, making sure they hit the pavement on their way out.

"I tell you what," You started, placing your hands on your hips. You nudged Tasha who watched you carefully, pouring her ale into a glass. "Make it a hundred a piece for me and Tasha, I'll pick the shot, and," You paused, smirking at the way their eyes lit up. "You gotta go sing me a song." You nodded towards the stage.

The men howled in laughter as Marco pulled out another hundred, sliding it next to yours. "Deal, angel." He said smugly. "Any requests?"

You grabbed the money, sliding Tasha her's then sliding yours in your bra. You pulled out a shot glasses, lining them up Patron and a bowl of limes. "Something romantic." You smiled. "It's Valentine's Day after all." 

You pressed your glass against theirs, downing the harsh liquid with a grimace while they cheered you on, celebrating each other obnoxiously. Eddie's jaw clenched from the door, yanking the cover cash from a college aged kid a little too harshly. He knew it was your job, you were just trying to make enough money to pay your rent just like he was, but it didn't make it any less hard when you'd flirt like this.

You made your rounds, pouring, swiping, smiling, and maneuvering expertly around the bar. Stacking glasses, cutting limes and oranges, wiping away spills, chatting with patrons. You even filled up two glasses of water, light ice and extra lemon- the way Eddie liked it- bringing them to the door for Tony and him.

Eddie smiled when you brought it over, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Thanks, baby," Eddie muttered, stabbing his straw on the table in front of him, wadding up the wrapper.

"You need anything else?" You asked, looking at Tony then Eddie.

"Nah, do you? Those guys still bothering you and Tasha?" Tony asked, nodding to the group of men from before.

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head. "No, they're jackasses. Total dicks, but we're fine." You smiled, placing a hand on Eddie's shoulder, squeezing it gently. You didn't miss the way he was tight, tense against your touch.

He tensed even more when Marco got up on stage, sloppily serenading you to ACDC's 'Shook Me All Night Long' with added vulgar dance moves while he pointed at you, adding your name into the chorus lyrics. Eddie was fuming.

Closing time couldn't come soon enough. The love birds and broken hearted left as easily as they came, the miracle of holidays. You and Tasha finished your closing duties, laughing and scoffing while you exchanged stories from the night. Eddie and Tony helped you, tidying up the place, but Eddie didn't have his usual charm. He wasn't cracking jokes, flexing his muscles and exaggeratedly saying 'what he woulda done if he wasn't on the clock'. He was distant, quiet, even with you.

By the time the two of you walked out, your arms looped around his leather clad arm, his mind was reeling. "...I made a lot of tips tonight." You grinned excitedly to him. "It was a pretty good night actually. I thought we'd be dead on Valentine's Day, but I've got enough in tips tonight to pay my rent for the month!"

Eddie huffed, furiously starting the engine to the van. "Yeah, that's great." He muttered. "With how you were actin' tonight, 'm not surprised."

You faltered, eyes furrowing a bit. "Ed, what're you talking about?" You asked. He shook you off, peeling out of the parking lot furiously. "Hey, look at me, are you," You squinted, studying his features. "Are you jealous?"

You couldn't help the little grin that formed on your lips when you asked, eyes lighting up mischievously. Eddie huffed. "'M not jealous." He snapped. "Just fuckin' hate it when you entertain those douchebag guys." He snarled.

You snorted, smugly crossing your arms. "You're jealous." You declared. "Honestly, Eddie, do you really think I give a shit about those guys?"

"You sure act like you do." Eddie bit, eyes flashing over to you. "Takin' shots and talkin' all sweet to 'em. No wonder he sang that shit to you, and you were laughing-"

"-Because he looked like an idiot." You laughed. "Tasha and I we're making fun of him. Everyone was laughing at him." Eddie huffed, a pouty, childish huff that left you grinning.

"They're complete and utter assholes that are good tippers, Eddie. I am repulsed by them, honestly. They're so gross and creepy, and I'm actually a little insulted that you would think they're my type." You snipped, eyeing him carefully.

Eddie's lips pressed together, not necessarily mad but thinking. You leaned closer to him, arms wrapping around his torso, pressing kisses to the exposed, ink skin of his biceps. "Baby, please, you can't seriously think I'd be into them." You said, looking up at him with rounded eyes.

"Just don't like it 's all." Eddie muttered. "Don't like it when they say that kinda shit to you." His fists clenched on the wheel, knuckles whitening. Your heart fluttered.

You hummed, pushing a stray hair behind his ear, tucking it and trailing your finger lightly down his jaw. "Don't be upset, please?" You asked. "It's Valentine's Day."

"That was technically yesterday." Eddie grumbled looking at the clock on his dash, the time read 3:02 a.m.

You sighed dramatically, pulling back so you sat in your seat. "Oh, guess I wore this for nothing then." You said, with a small shrug, looking out the window.

You felt Eddie's eyes on you. "Wore your work uniform?" Eddie snorted.

Your eyes flashed at him, biting back a smile. "No-o," You sing-song, batting your eyes at him. "What's under it, silly." You teased.

You'd been more than happy to show Eddie once you got back to his trailer, his mood lightening severely with the reveal. You'd kneeled on the edge of his bed, pink hearts smattering the see through material of the bra and panties, leaving very little the imagination.

Eddie dropped to his knees when he saw you, hands roaming all over your waist, legs, hips, squeezing and grabbing at anything he could, eyes wide and mouth watering. You looked like an angel, an angel he was about to ruin.

He didn't taken your panties off the whole night. He licked you right through the thin material until they were completely soaked from you and him. He'd pulled your bra down under your tits, so they were pushed up and presented for him while he sucked bruises into the delicate skin, marking you completely.

When he did fuck you, after you were writing and begging under his touch, he was relentless. Pounding you into the sheets until you couldn't even utter a sound, moans and gasps caught in your throat, tears streaming down your face.

"Yeah? You like that, don't you?" Eddie asked, hand cracking down on your upturned ass, gripping the skin as he pounded into you. "Like being fucked like the little slut you are, don't you?"

You drooled into the sheets, tears and saliva mixing into the pool beneath you. Eddie was fucking you with vigor, much more than you expected after a late night, busy shift. Your legs shook, clamping around him again with a small whine.

"Aw, you gonna cum, baby? Gonna cum all over my cock, huh?" Eddie cooed mockingly towards you.

Your eyes rolled back, crying when you came, then gasping when he yanked your hair back, pulling you up so you were flush against him, one arm around your torso, the other tweaking your sensitive nipples.

"God, I've wanted to fuck you all night." Eddie growled in your ear. "You wore those short little shorts didn't you? Had to wear them tonight, didn't you, you little slut?"

You cried, tears leaking down your cheeks, gripping onto his wrist. You were so sensitive, every thrust of his cock felt like a jab into your belly, a blow that sent you spiraling into your white hot abyss.

"Fuck, look at you, so pathetic." Eddie sneered, gripping your jaw harshly. "Wish those guys could see you now, huh? See you crying' like this. And over what, huh? Over my dick?"

You whimpered, lip wobbling as you clenched around him. Eddie groaned, tilting his own head back. You loved it when he was mean, when he fucked you like he owned you. Eddie let you fall forward into the mattress face first, gripping your hips as he snapped his hips into yours rough and purposeful.

You gripped the sheets, clenching hard around him as he muttered behind you, bringing his hand down twice on your cheeks before cumming, buried deep into your sopping pussy.

Eddie bent at the waist, falling on top of you gently, sweaty bangs pressed to your back, pressing kisses up and down your spine. "Holy shit," Eddie breathed out, deep and slow, eyes still closed.

You whimpered when he pulled out of you, leaving you aching and empty. You cheeks were sticky with tears and smeared makeup, legs still shaking even as Eddie went to the bathroom to grab a rag and clean you.

He took his time with you after, cleaning you up slowly, pressing kisses into you cheeks, neck, down your sternum, on your legs. He wiped himself off before throwing the rag into the hamper, climbing into the bed next to you. You were pressed up into his sheets, legs over his torso, arms tangled together, sharing the assorted chocolate that Mickey had given everyone- a thank you for working the holiday.

"You like the fruit ones?" You asked, nose twisting up in disgust.

Eddie shrugged, popping the orange cream filled chocolate into his mouth. "Yeah, 's pretty good. You don't?"

You shook your head, burying yourself into his inked skin, lids heavy as he stroked your hair. "I liked the caramel ones, or the toffee."

Eddie scoffed. "Lame. Everybody likes those."

You giggled, vibrations rocking from your chest to his making him smile. Eddie looked down at you, your fingers wrapped around his sheets, lashes fluttering to fight against the sleep tugging at your eyes.

"Thank you for the roses." You yawned, looking up at him. "No ones ever got those for me before." You admitted.

"Really?" Eddie asked, you shook your head. "That's a damn shame. Glad I'm the first." He grinned, pressing a kiss to your head.

"Happy Valentine's Day, baby."  He whispered, feeling your body sink into his, heavy on his chest. "Maybe next year we'll get the night off, hm?"

[lloromanic0]

Just made this blog to post random smut I have in my notes app. I hope you like them x

Bill Kaulitz as an exchange student looking for an English tutor ;)

 

You woke up around ten am, looking out your dorm window contemplating the rain hitting the glass. After about five minutes you finally got up a started to get ready for your classes, you looked at your schedule that was hooked above your desk, today you had English C1, German B1 and English literature. You were a languages enthusiast you had always been interested in learning new languages you loved communicating with others so picking a languages major was the only right choice for you. Since you lived close to campus at 10:50 you started walking to class hopping to be there by 11. The cold morning breeze hit your face making your cheeks feel cold and look slightly red, the rain had stopped by now, but some drops fell occasionally from trees or rooftops. After around 7 minutes of walking, you finally got inside and went straight to class. You didn’t have many friends, just enough to keep you company during the long days at university. As you were approaching the big classroom you saw one of your friends that was a part of some sort of Student Council which welcomed exchange students, of course she was always busy talking to people, but she never made you feel left out. As you got closer to her, she immediately spotted you giving you a big smile and you smiled back at her.

“Good morning, Y/N!”

“Good morning, Amelie.”

“I’ll get in the classroom just in a second I’m just handing some fliers to the exchange students.” She said while still smiling at you.

You nodded as you looked behind her to peek at the exchange students, when one of them really caught your eye. A tall, slim man with long black hair was looking directly at you making you feel slightly intimidated by his aura. After engaging in this staring contest with him for a few seconds you got inside of the amphitheatre taking a seat close to the edge. 

 

Around ten minutes passed, and you saw Amelie walking inside the classroom looking for you, you waved at her as she gave you an expression of relief. She sat next you exhaling deeply and looking at you right after.

 

“Lots of work?” You ask. 

 

“Quite a bit, but you know me I love meeting new people and try to give them the best university experience even if it’s just for a semester”. 

She said smiling with her eyes closed. She truly had a beautiful heart. 

You smiled softly again, you liked to talk to people, but you also loved you alone time and well Amelie barely had any due to all her responsibilities and you weren’t about to sacrifice that, but you did help her anytime you could.

Then she looked at you, she looked a bit..embarrassed…you didn’t know how to describe her expression well enough.

 

“Y/N can I please ask you to do me a favor.”

 

Your face got a bit hot at the sudden request, but you nodded firmly.

She quickly exhaled and began to talk.

 

“So there’s this one German exchange student that speaks very poor English and he came to me asking if anyone would be able to tutor him so that he could communicate better with people and to also help him pass his classes while he’s here”

 

“Why me?” You bluntly ask. 

 

“Seriously? You’re a top student in English and you’re practically fluent in German you’re literally perfect to be his tutor!”

 

You kept silent for a bit. 

 

“Listen I know you like to have your alone time specially after classes but if you could spare 2 hours let’s say…3 times a week to help him it wouldn’t harm you…”

 

“Also he’s willing to pay...”

 

“It’s not about money Amelie. But since you’re my friend I’ll see what I can do to help him”

 

She smiled and thanked you.

 

4 pm

After your tree classes Amelie asked you to meet her at the student’s office so you could schedule a time to tutor him. You kept wondering who this German student might be. You entered the office closing the door behind you when you saw him. The tall slim man who was staring at you this morning. You got close to him trying not to blush again, Amelie appeared behind you making you jump a little.

“Hi! I’m so happy you came; this is Bill your new student.” She said giggling, also making Bill smile, you sat next to him.

 

“Hallo“ he said smiling.

 

“Was geht“ you replied. 

 

“I’m sure you’ll get along well” Amelie interrupted “So” she said while sliding you a piece of paper “These are the days that Bill is available for tutoring so you can see if it fits your schedule”.

 

Tuesday from 5pm-7pm

Thursday from 4pm-6pm

Friday from 8pm-10pm 

 

You looked through your schedule then looked up at them smiling slightly. 

 

“This is fine”

 

Bill looked very excited and so did Amelie.

You and Bill exchanged phone numbers and you three walked out.

«I can’t thank you enough Y/N! » Exclaimed Amelie.

Bill kept his eyes on you the whole time, you felt his gaze scanning your body it was hard to admit it, but you loved the feeling. You waved goodbye to both, and you tree parted ways. After the same 7-minute walk you did everyday you finally entered your dorm room and threw yourself on the bed. You closed your eyes starting to feel sleepy when suddenly your phone vibrated.

Texts

Bill: «Hope to see you tomorrow Süβe ;)»

You stupidly smiled at the text quickly snapping out of your daydreaming and giving him a quick reply.

«Yep, don’t be late :)» you placed your phone down and fell asleep a few minutes later.

You woke up the next day, it was a sunny morning today the warm sun felt comforting on your skin but it was still as cold as yesterday. You checked your phone for the time and noticed another text from Bill, your heart raced a little.

Texts

Bill

«Good morning, Miss what should I bring to class today? » you laughed a little at the nickname he called you.

«Your total concentration and maybe a notebook and a pen would be nice».

«Yes ma’am» he replied.

You only had 2 classes today so around 4pm you would be free so had an hour to prepare some sort of exercises for Bill to practice after class.

4:50 pm

After putting on some comfortable clothes you quickly set up your desk so that Bill had space to sit down, when suddenly you heard a nock on your door, the noise startled you but you quickly calmed down remembering it was probably Bill. You looked in the mirror for a second fixing your hair and makeup and then opened the door.

He was leaning on the side of the door frame towering over you as you stared at his figure.

“I thought you were going to leave me out here.” he said pouting his lips in a playful way.

You just laugh in response and tell him to get in.

“Do you want a water or maybe a snack?” You asked trying to make him feel more comfortable.

“Water please!”

You grabbed a bottle from your mini fridge and gave it to him.

“Danke.” He said

“In here we only speak English ok Bill?” You replied playfully.

“Yes ma’am”

You rolled your eyes and sat down next to him.

“So I prepared a list of things that I thought would be good for you to practice.”

You showed him the list: conjugating verbs, irregular verbs, pronunciation, correct way of writing sentences etc..

He read trough it as his eyes widened.

“So much….”

“I’m here to help you Bill we need to work on these aspects if you want to get better.”

He looked like a sad puppy he was so cute you couldn’t help yourself.

“Anddd if you do a good job I’ll even reward you.”

He look at you with a little grin.

“Can I choose the reward?”

You tilted your head and lifted your right eyebrow a little

“Don’t you think you’re asking for too much already?”

His cheeks got pink, you didn’t know if it was from embarrassment or shyness but he looked so handsome like that.

You cleared your throat and stared to show him some work sheets on verb conjugation.

5:45 pm

 “Professor…”

“No need to call me that Bill don’t be silly.” You said while giggling a bit.

“I can’t remember this one. I hate irregular verbs!” He exclaimed slightly mad.

“You can do it just think hard. After you finish that we can take a small break.”

His face instantly lite up as he worked hard on his paper. After a few minutes he finished it and as you corrected it,you told him he could take a break.

All of a sudden you feel arms wrap around you shoulders.

“Y/N are you done correcting? I thought you were taking the break with me.”

You gulped hard while you looked at his hands hanging from your shoulders.

“Bill…I need to correct this before we move on you know that..”

“But…” he slightly hesitated to speak “…I want you to pay attention to me”

His words made you bite your lower lip lightly.

“You can sit with me if you would like.”

He pulled his chair to sit down.

“Not there Bill.” You pulled yourself away from the table a little and placed your hand on your exposed thigh.

“Sit here.”

His face now painted red and his mouth slightly hanging open, he looked at you and you gave him a smile of approval. He walked over to you positioning himself on your lap. You placed one of your hands around his lower stomach making him exhale nervously.

“Are you comfortable?” You whispered. He nodded and kept still while you finished your work.

6 pm

“All done,you did quite well Bill I’m impressed.” your hand caressing his thigh.

“All thanks to you..” his voice slightly cracking.

“Are you ok Bill? If you don’t feel comfortable please tell me.”

“Y-yes I’m fine Y/N”

You looked over his shoulder and saw the evident tent in his pants,you licked your lips and slowly moved your hand up his tight.

He let out a shaky breath.

“What’s wrong mein liebe?” You asked innocently.

“Nichts…” his breath getting heavier each time your hand approached his erection but never touching it without his consent.

With that you took your hand off his thigh and flipped through some more work sheets.

“Warum hast du aufgehört!?” His tone slightly higher.

“English please.” You said teasing.

He scoffed “Why did you stop…?”

“Stop what Bill?” You whisper close to his neck.

“You stopped touching me…”

“You want me to touch you?”

He nodded, his breath getting heavier.

“But where Bill?”

He stopped for a second getting embarrassed to ask you to touch his throbbing cock that made his tight pants feel very uncomfortable.

“Tell me Bill…” You whispered in his ear starting to kiss his neck while rubbing his thighs again.

“Touch me between my thighs please…” he begged in a low tone.

“I couldn’t hear you baby can you repeat that?” You wanted to tease him until he got to his limit.

“Please touch my cock…It hurts so bad.”

“That’s a good boy, so obedient.”

You moved your hand up his tight slowly palming his erection through his pants.

You unzipped them and pulled his boxers down as his hard cock sprung out of them hitting his lower stomach. For such a slim guy he was definitely bigger than average. The pink head of his cock was coated in his precum,it twitched quite often desperately seeking some sort of stimulation. You hand wrapped around his base slowly pumping him, he whimpered and whined,your slow touch making him feel more agony rather than pleasure.

“Please…faster.” He begged,breathing heavily. You quickly complied to his request since he was being so well behaved. You stroked him faster as your wrist started to get sore but the erotic sounds he was making were enough to make up push through the discomfort. With one hand you massed his balls, and with the other you circled his tip with your thumb, he moaned loudly with the doble stimulation.

“Sshh keep it down Bill, you don’t want the whole dorm to know how much of a whore you are.”

“Sheiße….i can’t- I’m so close-“

“Cum for me liebe.” You ordered.

With a few more strokes he came all over your hands coating them in his thick semen.

“Thank you-thank-you..for helping me cum…” he kept thanking you as he laid his head back on your shoulder so that he could look at you.

You kissed him a few times complementing him, telling him he did a very good job and how he was such a good boy.

You helped him clean up and walked him to the door since it was already past time and you didn’t want your dorm mates to suspect anything.

“I’ll see you tomorrow at university Bill.”

“Yeah…text me when you get there.” He gave you a big smile.

“Will do.” You smiled as you pulled him down for one last kiss, this one being a little longer than the previous. You opened the door for him and watched him walk down the corridor looking back at you a few times, when you lost sight of him you closed the door and went back to your room.

[badasmuse]

“Slow Motion”

Bada Lee x Reader

Warnings: not technically 18+ but it should be, language, bada slander, stripper!bada, rich!reader

Summary: you come every week to support your favorite stripper.

Based off Slow Motion by Trey Songz

“back again?” the bouncer says to you as you cut to the front of the line.

“of course. my favorite dancer is here. i don’t make this money for nothing.” you say winking and walking in when he opens the rope.

“enjoy.” he shakes his head.

you’ve been coming to club bebe for three weeks now. you went with your friend for his birthday a month ago and that girl… man that girl was so fine. her long legs and pretty skin. the way she wrapped herself around the pole. you won’t say you’re in love but man.

since then you’d show up every monday and thursday (the owner told you her scheduled days) ready to throw money at her. or slip it in her bra or thong whenever she was close enough. you walked in just in time cause she was making her way to the stage. you pushed through to the front, pulling money from your purse.

“oh great. i hate when she comes out.” some guy says, leaning back in his seat.

“yeah me too,” his friend replies, “like why would she even become a stripper. she’s too tall. i’m surprised she hasn’t tripped over her own legs yet.”

you ignore them, focusing on the way she dances in front of you. you’re shocked at the outfit she’s wearing, it’s see through, she’s never shown this much skin.

you didn’t care, you enjoyed it really.

you watched the sad look on her face as she danced around the pole. it’s like she knew she wasn’t anyone’s favorite. no one likes her. except you of course.

hearing the comments about her made your blood boil cause you knew she could hear them too. so you did what you do best, grabbed more money from your bag and continue to throw it at her.

“you like this garbage show?” a man next to you says. “i wouldn’t waste a penny on her.”

“me and you are not the same.” you reply, grabbing another stack from your purse. you ran out of ones but twenties will do.

she got close and kneeled down next to you and you stuck twenties in the side of her one piece.

she let out a gasp and stood up blushing. quickly finishing her act, she picks up all the money and runs towards the back.

you sigh and go to find the nearest security guard, “i want a private dance with her. i’ll pay whatever she wants just get me one.”

“one moment.” he says walking towards the back.

minutes later the guy comes back ushering you towards a room. “she said give her five minutes. it’s gonna be a thousand.”

you hand him the money and he takes it and puts it in her little mailbox in the back as you walk into the room.

moments later, she shyly enters the room. “um… hi.” she whispers. “sorry i don’t know how this works you’re my first private dance.” she mumbles.

“i’m not too sure how it works either. i’m not a fan of strip clubs but you? i’m a fan of you.” you say as she walks towards you.

she blushes and looks down, “um… is there a specific song you’d like me to dance to?”

“slow motion by trey songz.” you respond so fast she barely finishes speaking.

“oh.. i know that one.” she says giggling. she hooks her phone up playing the song before strutting over to the pole in the center of the room. you sat back watching her dance around the pole. wrapping her legs around it doing stunts. you look in your bag for more money to give her. you wanted to empty your bank account for her.

at the end of the song she blushed at all the money you threw at her. “i hope that was good for my first time.”

“baby it was perfect. and just know.. you’re worth more than a thousand dollars. i’d pay fifty thousand to have a private show from you.” you whisper.

“i’ll be back on monday. save me a dance pretty girl.” you say before walking out, leaving her stunned and alone to pick up her money.

“this woman is gonna pay my bills for months.” she mumbles happily.

Taglist (open! comment to be added!): @waveartistry @sun-nyy @yngtort @jennamc75 @m0r0s1111 @seungxstar @badasbebe @lil-elliesgf @currentfications

a/n: this was for darling waveartistry but they deactivated? :( i wish i got it out before they did but hopefully they come back i’m not too sure why they deactivated i haven’t been here in so long, super sad rn :(((( also there’s gonna be a part 2 to this which will be 18+

[probablyreadinsmut]

Fallin - Joel Miller X Afab! Reader

Chapter Two - The ties that bind

Remember, images in the banner above are just for aesthetic purposes, reader is you. Carmy is in there bc readers husband looks like him in my head, just to avoid confusion lol.

Summary for this chapter: Reader is pushed to her breaking point when an unexpected letter shows up in the mailbox and an equally unexpected bond forms between her and Joel.

Warnings/Tags for this chapter: Prepare yourselves. This chapter has some heavy topics in it. Don't say I didn't warn you. Financial struggles, Alcoholism. Alcohol abuse. Readers landlord has shitty timing. Weaponised incompetence. Reader belittles herself. Discussions of past physical abuse (this did not happen to reader). Shared trauma. Reciprocating soothing touches (oooh). No beta so autocorrect takes all the blame if I've missed something! Tommy eating with his mouth full, Momma Miller is rolling in her grave! Reader sleeps with socks on - don't @ me, my autistic ass can't sleep without them on, that's my only self insert haha.

Title taken from this song:

A/N: I'm thinking there's going to have to be a chapter 2.5 because there was another part to this that I wanted to add but the transition to it wouldn't have made sense so... There may be smut next half chapter though!

Word Count: 4.3k

Previous Chapter

Series Masterlist

///

May 31st 2003

It had been a long ass month.

You picked up extra shifts at work, agreeing to help on the line if it meant you could work overtime. It wasn't your favourite thing to do, working with the chefs instead of being tucked away in the back able to get on with making pastries and decadent cakes. They all had short fuses and you had enough of that shit at home, but you desperately needed the money so you did it, even if it meant working six days a week with a bunch of assholes. Honestly though? You were kind of thankful that you weren't home a lot of the time these days.

Matt hadn't got the job, which in turn had sent him into a further spiral of depression and drinking.

You hated seeing him like this, the man you'd loved. The man you'd married. This wasn't him, he was never a big drinker before all but now? Now you're getting belligerent texts from him mid shift, asking you to pick up a six pack on the way home from work everyday. The one time you forgotten to, so drowsy you'd almost fallen asleep behind the wheel of your car, he screamed at you for an 30 straight minutes before he left the house to go to a bar instead.

Your Internet search history, once full of recipes and forums for the hobbies you enjoyed, was now full of frantic searches for 'How to know if my partner is an alcoholic?' 'How to get help for an alcoholic' 'What to do if an alcoholic won't seek help'. He definitely didn't think he had a problem and you couldn't bring it up to him. This new version of Matt scared you, whether it was in the sense that he was so unpredictable in his moods or that you had this fear that he'd get himself so drunk he'd vomit in his sleep and choke on it, who knew? Either way, it was like having a ticking time bomb in your home, just waiting for it to go off.

You'd just about scraped by on paying bills this month too, resorting to selling your beloved kitchen aid mixer and a few pairs of shoes that, yes, you were going to miss sorely, but you'd rather go without if it meant you didn't miss paying your rent, you'd much rather have a roof over your heads, even if you're hardly ever there these days.

You really needed Matt to be out and working again, but somehow, it didn't look like that was going to happen, so this was your life for the the foreseeable future, working back to back shifts, eating at work so you didn't have to buy extra food at home, holding your breath while the tips were being divided at the end of the day with a figure in your head of how much you needed for gas money. You're keeping your head above water. Just barely though.

Your one day off a week was spent tidying up around the house, picking up after Matt where he failed to throw away bottles, empty ashtrays, throw away takeout containers. Another expense, even though you made sure to leave food for him in the fridge while you were out working. It was like taking one step forward and three steps back half the time.

You'd had a lot of time to think recently, really reflecting back on your entire marriage, drifting away getting lost in thought as you cranked out orders at work. Even while not at home, your thoughts were still there.

You'd come to realise that maybe you'd been looking back at things through rose coloured glasses considering how it was now. He'd always had a short fuse, running out of patience quickly. Passive aggressive comments were his forte, although you found yourself laughing them off most of them time, like water off a ducks back. A lot of things had been left up to you, in charge of making sure the bills were paid even before all this. In charge of keeping the household running. You'd argued about it before and he'd told you he was too busy and stressed with his workload to help, you considered yourself lucky that he remembered to load the dishwasher sometimes and even then he expected a thank you for it. A thank you that you never received yourself.

Everything had been put on your shoulders for so long that you'd just gotten used to it. It had you wondering if you'd always been such a doormat? Self deprecating thoughts were nothing new either.

Slowly, you were beginning to wake up and smell the roses. Realising that nothing had ever actually been perfect, he hadn't been perfect. You hadn't been either, but the give and take in this relationship was completely unbalanced from the get go.

///

June 1st 2003

It was your day off today and the second your dry, tired eyes fluttered open that morning, you resigned yourself to the monotony of your day ahead. You turned to look over your shoulder at Matt snoring loudly beside you, out cold. You had no idea what time he'd come to bed last night, leaving him awake and drinking by himself after he told you to fuck off when you asked him is he could possibly throw away the takeout container full of days old food that was now growing an entire ecosystem inside it. There was no point arguing with this man.

You got up and headed downstairs, silently cursing that creaky ass step that was a constant reminder of how broken your household was, in more ways than one.

With a soft yawn, tying up your bathrobe, you poke your head out the front door, to check that the coast is clear, no neighbours to spot you in your pyjamas, which consisted of leggings, an oversized tee and mismatched socks that you'd pulled on in the dark last night before bed. The mailbox flag had been upright for days, you hadn't had time to check it and Matt simply didn't give a shit.

You weren't prepared for what you'd found in there though, regretting your decision to check it before yous caffienated.

"Oh my god" With the letter in one hand, watery eyes scanning it, your shaking hand against your lips, you stare at the words on the page but they all begin to blur together after the first few sentences, you didn't need to read more than that:

'To the tenant(s) at 16 Sycamore Street. We regret to inform you that your landlord has decided to put the property on the buyers market and has received an offer. Completion is expected to commence by the first week of October. Please vacate the premises no later than 10/1/03....'

Eviction.

They didn't even have the decency to name you on the letter, citing you as 'tenants'. Just another number, just another easy paycheck.

Cold and clinical, washing their hands of you. It felt like such a slap in the face after you'd worked so hard, scrimping and scrounging money to pay the rent this month.

Gut punch after gut punch after gut punch.

There's only so much one person can take. You thought about the idea of having to tell Matt about this, it would somehow be your fault. You thought about the stress of having to find another place on one Salary. The home you were in now was a steal, the landlord had offered it to you at a reduced rate if you agreed to foot the bill for minor repairs, such as that stupid creaky step. Being young and naive, you and Matt had accepted those terms. , You thought you'd got lucky with it when you found it, instantly falling in love with how quiet the cul-de-sac was, how family friendly it was. Envisioning maybe starting your own family here too.

The person you were three years ago when you moved here was an entirely different person to who you are now. You're broken now. Broken and openly sobbing on the sidewalk, screwing the letter up, throwing it back into the mailbox before you angrily slam it shut.

You'd been so wrapped up in the grief of all this happening to you that you hadn't heard the quick footsteps of a certain raven haired neighbour crossing the street,

His tone was all concern and a little hesitation as he spoke "Darlin? Hey you okay?"

///

Joel

It had been over a month since he last really saw you, since you'd snapped at him for poking his nose in, not that he'd intended to.

He'd caught quick glimpses of you as you rushed from your door to the car in the morning, looking more frazzled each day. He'd seen you coming home late at night too, six pack in hand most nights, it couldn't have all been for you.

Joel had thought about quickly catching you one morning during one of those times but he decided against it, he'd considered leaving an apology note on your car too but he thought that was too impersonal.

He'd started to piece things together though, Joel was observant by nature. Hearing the loud rattles of glass being emptied into the garbage truck each week, seeing that trashcan full to the brim with bottles, along with the fact that Jimmy had said he'd still been hearing the arguments coming from your house, he'd also noticed that you'd hardly been home... Things definitely weren't good between you and Matt. This wasn't just run of the mill marital problems, it was a hell of a lot more complicated than that.

It definitely wasn't his place to intervene but there was no chance he was going to just stand by and do nothing either, it was just a matter of when and how.

It was still fairly early on Sunday morning when he'd darted out to his truck, forgetting that he'd left his cellphone in there over night, he always liked to keep it by his side incase an emergency job popped up, he could always use the extra cash after all. He hadn't actually noticed you across the street until the slam of your mailbox, making him nearly smack his head against the roof of his truck.

That's when he sees you there, in your pyjamas, bathrobe and mismatched socks, having a complete meltdown in front of your house.

He tried calling out to you from across the street but you hadn't heard him and when he sees you getting increasingly distressed he decides enough is enough, even if he's nervous that he may get his head bitten off again. He's not the kind of person to just pretend he hadn't seen something like that either.

Not to mention it was breaking his heart a little bit to see you like this. So despite his trepidation, he swiftly crosses the street to come to your aid.

//

You sit at Joel's dining table, eyes puffy and red from crying, staring down into the cup of coffee he'd made you. Despite your tearful protests, he'd guided you across the street to his house. You'd been trying to explain what was wrong but it had all been coming out as garbled sobs. Knowing that you didn't want to be the gossip of the street, he'd taken it upon himself to get you calm again.

You can feel his eyes on you as he leans against the kitchen counter, cradling his own cup of coffee in his hands. You didn't want more pity, right now you were throwing yourself the biggest fucking pity party already.

"'M sorry its not the real stuff, if you don't like it I can make you a tea or-" He wasn't the best at soothing people while they're upset but being a dad to a growing daughter meant he had at least some tricks up his sleeve. The day Sarah had come home from school upset over some crush of hers was a horrible one, holding her and stroking her hair until her sobs dissolved into little hiccups. Joel's momma had always had a healthy stock of tea at home for things like this. 'Tea won't solve all your problems, but it'll sure make things a lil sweeter for a minute'. Wise words from Momma Miller.

You sniffle, still staring down into the cup with a shallow shake of your head. "This is fine, thank you" Your voice is so small. Whatever happened has really messed you up.

"Oh!" he says suddenly, pushing off the counter, turning to grab a tupperware container out of the cabinet. "Sarah has actually been baking..." if you don't want to talk, maybe he can distract you instead, walking over to where you sit, shoulders heavily slumped. He sets the container down beside you, just in your peripheral, it's full of homemade chocolate chip cookies. "She's kinda been bitten by the baking bug now, thanks to you. Here, I know she'd be honoured to get get your opinion on them."

Your eyes raise from the cup in front of you finally, meeting his gaze with puffy eyes and a weak smile. You pick the most delicious, chewy looking cookie from the top of the pile and take a small bite, eyes widening when you taste how good it is.

"Oh my god" you half chuckle behind your hand, needing to finish your bite.

A proud smile stretches across his face. "Good right?"

"Good? I genuinely think these are the best fucking cookies I've ever tasted."

"That's my girl. She'll be fuckin' thrilled to hear that. Ever since you gave her that brownie recipe she's been printin' out recipes to test out and she's on my ass about gettin' one of those um... What are they called? The swirly things that cost a fuckin' arm and a leg?" He makes a bowl and mixing gesture with his hands and you can't help but let out the tiniest of chuckles.

"A Kitchenaid?" He snaps his fingers and nods "Yeah... I had one of those, costs a small fortune but honestly? So worth it. I uh... I actually just sold my one recently, if I'd have known you were looking.."

Something in your tone and the way your eyes fall back to the coffee cup again gnaws at him, unable to stop his curiosity getting the better of him.

He pulls up a chair across from you, grabbing a cookie from the tub, staying quiet for a moment to let you speak if you wanted to.

"I uh... There's just a lot going on right now. Had to sell a few things.." You shift in the chair as you begin to open up. "Matt he... He lost his job a while ago and it's been... It's been really fucking hard honestly? I'm doing extra shifts to make up for the loss of his salary and even then we're just barely making ends meet. We were a little short this month so I sold it" A small butter chuckle leaves you before you continue. "it's funny but, I was so scared that we wouldn't make rent this month and um... Then today I checked the mail and... There was an eviction notice in there." You can feel your eyes misting up again as you speak and he notices it too.

For a moment he's silent, going through a range of emotions in the short amount of time that he's listening to you speak, seeing the broken exhaustion written on your face, hearing it mirrored in your voice. "I... Jesus christ darlin'. I'm so sorry."

It's then that he does something that surprises both of you, setting the cookie down, he reaches across the table to rest his hand on your wrist, gently rubbing his thumb back and forth agaisnt the exposed part of skin in a soothing gesture. "How long have you got 'til you gotta leave?"

You manage a grateful smile at the gesture, it's barely there however. "4 months, they want us out by October 1st."

"Does Matt know?"

You didn't even want to think about telling him right now, but you knew you couldn't ignore it either. "No I... That's what all that was about out there earlier I... I went and checked the mail, first thing I get is an eviction notice. Lucky me."

"I take it that it's probably gonna go down like lead balloon?"

"That's putting it simply. I'm glad I was the one that found it but it doesn't mean it's going to be any easier telling him."

He knows there's more to it, he wants to ask, desperately, but he's unsure about crossing the line after last time. So, he swallows the lump that's formed in his throat, about to tell you something he's never shared with anyone else before, wanting to bridge that gap so you know he's not judging you.

"My uh... My old man... He had a drinkin' problem. He'd drink whiskey like it was water most nights and my momma, god rest her soul, she... She tried. She really tried to keep it from Tommy and me. She never wanted us to see him for anythin' else other than our dear old dad." He pauses for a second, just needing to take a breather, he could do this, it was difficult but he'd get through it. "Anyways, we got older and more wise to it. We weren't stupid. We knew he wasn't just 'sleepin' in' or 'under the weather'" His thumb is still rubbing back and forth on your wrist and what was originally for your benefit, is now self soothing, keeping himself grounded. "I um... I was about 15 when my momma started trying to hide her bruises and... She... She begged me to leave it alone. I wanted to strangle that son of a bitch with my bare hands but I couldn't. For her sake. Then... Then one day I came home from school with Tommy and found him laying into her in the kitchen, all over the fact that she'd burned his... Fuckin' toast."

You're on the verge of tears for a completely different reason now, watching his expression go from sombre to aggrivated as he revisits those memories that he'd worked so hard to suppress. "Oh Joel..." Your voice cracks slightly, now it's your turn to extend the gesture, resting your hand on top of his, giving it a gentle, reassuring squeeze.

He has to finish. He's started now, he's not telling this story for sympathy, but to show you he can relate. "That was the day I lost it... Told Tommy to run to the neighbours and call 911, he was just a scared kid who'd just watched his momma get beaten black and blue so... I gave my old man a beat down. Me. I made it hurt, I made sure he'd never ever lay a fucking finger on her again and you know what the sad part is? The whole time... The whole time she was still begging me not to. The bastard had crushed her spirit so badly and yet there she was with a busted eye socket and broken nose, begging me not to hurt him."

He takes a shuddering breath, raising his gaze to meet yours, his expression is serious and tinged with anguish. "Darlin' I need you to promise me somethin'..." He moves his hand from under yours, grabbing your hand, taking it in his holding it firmly, brushing his thumb over your knuckles. "I need you to promise me you'll get out before that happens to you. I know right now he's not hurting you like that, trust me, I'd see the signs and if he was I'd have been across the street beatin' on him in a heartbeat. It don't mean that it's not takin' everythin' in me now not to do that either but... Don't stay. Don't wait for things to get better, cause they won't. Take this eviction as your oppertuinity to start over without him. I know it ain't as simple as that and you'll have a lot of plannin' to do to get there but you ain't alone. If you ever need to talk or--or get away for a while... I hope you know you can come to me, okay?"

You relish in the physical contact, it had been a long time since anyone had treated you with a kindness like this, his hand was big and warm, slightly rough against your softer skin, from years of manual labour. Even despite the heavy subject, you appreciated it and without meaning to, it had ignited a flicker of something inside you. A shared bond, an understanding of what it meant to live under the same roof as a narcissist.

Swallowing hard as you mull over his words, your waterline still damp with unshed tears. "I... I'll try..." You smile sadly, knowing this is as best as you can offer right now and he knows it too

"Okay Darlin'... Okay. A-and I'm sorry by the way... for what happened before... When um... When I kind of accosted you a few weeks back... I... I didn't mean to stick my nose where it didn't belong."

A light chuckle leaves you at that, wiping away your tears with your free hand. "Apologies don't mean shit Joel. Actions speak louder than words and... Everything you've done for me today? Telling me something incredibly personal like that? That meant more to me than you could possibly know so... Thank you. Your Momma sounded like she was a strong lady."

He smiles wistfully at that, she'd have liked you, he sees a lot of her in you. "She was and so are you."

///

Tommy

It's a little after 9am when Tommy is pulling up to Joel's house with Sarah in the back of his truck. He'd offered to have Sarah for the night so Joel could have some alone time, he was always telling him he should use that time wisely, go out to a bar, live a little, encouraging him to find a girl and take her home for some fun. It was a pass time of his to tease Joel about his sex life, or lack thereof. 'Your virginity must be growin' back by now, brother' he was proud of himself for that one. It had always fallen on deaf ears though, that's where he and Joel differed, Tommy was more of a risk taker, not even 30 yet, still acting like a horny teenager running around Austin breaking hearts. Whearas Joel was more closed off to that kind of thing, it just wasn't his scene. The heartbreak from Sarahs mom leaving had been enough to shake his confidence when it came to love, choosing to focus on his baby girl instead.

So imagine his surprise when he sees Joel in the doorway, watching a pretty lady as she walks away across his front lawn, he recognises that look in his eyes and the way he's unable to pull his gaze from her, his big brother was all gooey eyed over this girl... Granted her attire doesn't scream 'Picked her up at a dive bar' but who was he to judge?

Sarah pipes up from the backseat "Hey that's our neighbour, yknow the lady who gave me the recipe for those birthday brownies you loved?"

"Oh reeaaaally? She's purty." He drawls, pulling up into the driveway.

"Yeah don't even think about it Uncle Tommy. She's married."

Married? Joel you stupid son of a bitch what are you getting yourself into here?

///

Sarah has gone upstairs to put her things away, the sound of her latest Destiny's Child cd echoing upstairs, this is why Joel loved weekends. Especially if it was a rare one like this where he wasn't working.

"So..." Tommy starts as he helps himself to a cookie, taking a big bite before he continues, even with a mouthful of food. Momma Miller raised him better than that. "You got somethin' to tell me big brother?"

A heavy sigh leaves Joel, he knows Tommy saw you leaving the house, he can already tell where this is going. Joel's pouring out two cups of coffee with his back to him, replying with a hint of annoyance in his tone "About what?"

Tommy has the manners to finish his mouthful this time before he speaks. Small graces. "Don't play dumb Joel, 'bout that pretty little thing I saw leavin' your house. Now unless you were just havin' a slumber party over her, considerin' her get up..."

"Tommy.." He warns as he turns to face him.

"Joel."

"It ain't like that she's-"

"Married, I know, Sarah told me. But you can't bullshit me brother, I saw the way you were lookin' at her."

Joel's brow furrows, lips stretching into a thin line. "What are you implyin' exactly?"

"What I'm implyin' brother, is that you have a thing for a married woman. Even I'm not dumb enough to go for the taken ones and you know me I'm down to fuck just about--"

Joel holds up a hand stopping him, pinching the bridge of his nose with the other hand "I beg of you, please don't finish that sentence"

Tommy's hands raise in fake surrender, a small smirk on his face. "Alright, alright. I hear ya loud and clear. All I'm saying is-" He takes another bite of his cookie and starts talking with his mouthful once more "-Is be careful with that one. Don't do anything stupid."

Joel knows better than to lie to him, he knows better than to lie to himself too, he had felt something for you today, beyond the sympathy of your shared trauma. "I appreciate the concern Tommy, but I'm not dumb enough to make a move on a married woman." He turns to grab the cups of coffee "And for the love of God, stop talkin' with your fuckin' mouthful, Momma raised you better"

Tommy just takes a bigger bite and gives Joel a shit eating grin.

///

General tags:

@drewharrisonwriter @baronessvonglitter @joelmillerisapunk @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @bitchwitch1981 @kirsteng42 @morallyinept @cheekychaos28 @itwasntimethatdidit40 @almostempty @lovely-vamp-princess

Tags for those that asked:

@deepestchaoslove @mystickittytaco

Tysm for reading 💜

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA for holding money my parents owe me over their heads?

I (21) live with my mom (53F), stepdad (52M), and two siblings (15M), (23M). Recently they’ve been pushing me to get a job despite previous conversations we’ve had, and I want to tell them that they can push me to get a job after they pay me back all the money they owe me, but I think I might be the asshole if I do.

For background context, I have had severe chronic health issues since 2014 and mental health issues since a really young age. They are diagnosed but I don’t want to get into it rn. The heart issues, chronic pain, and fatigue makes it really difficult for me to even take care of myself and I almost never leave the house.

I applied for SSI in 2021 and was denied for the first time and appeal before it was sent to hearing stage and an ALJ, and just last week I received the letter stating that I had been denied again.

When the letter came saying that I was denied I was very upset, mostly very angry. I showed the letter to my mom and I asked for her opinion, and she said that she thought “there isn’t enough here” that “you should just give it up” and “I heard [local grocery store] is letting cashiers sit on stools now.”

Just the next day I mentioned to my parents that I had been looking at some jobs and found one specifically that I felt I might be able to do a few 4hr shifts of a week. They were enthusiastic until I mentioned the “a few 4hr shifts” part, where they then pressed me to do 8hr shifts saying “you’re not even going to try?” even as I told them that I can barely stay awake more than a few hours at a time. I tried to explain to them that even if I could keep the job indefinitely (unlikely) doing too many or too long shifts would burn me out quickly and make it harder to get another job if I got fired from that one (likely) and they just got angry and were mocking me.

Here’s where the WIBTA comes into play. I don’t want to burn myself out when we can still appeal the decision, and I’m not even the only one in this household who doesn’t work. I get tips every so often for my writing/art and donations, and every cent always ends up going to them for food and gas and bills, even if I’m trying to save. After a few years they owe me somewhere upwards of $1000, I stopped keeping track after it hit that. I never ask for my money back and never hold it over their heads, but now I want to.

I was going to try to keep a job while I wait for this appeal because I really do want to help, but now I feel like whatever I do is never going to be enough and they’re always going to be pushing for more.

Would it be a dick move to tell my parents that they can push me to get a job when they pay me back what they owe me?

What are these acronyms?

[larkspur-collective]

I did not want to do this, but... we really need a miracle.

We really need help relocating to WA!

Details are under the cut. This post mentions abuse, briefly touches on alcoholism, and discusses extreme poverty and unsanitary conditions. The short version is we need enough money for a plane ticket to Washington State, and fast.

We need help with our $300 plane ticket, some for food until we sort out foodstamps, & at least $100 to keep our phone on until we can find work.

We've been locked out of our GoFundMe account, and to be truthful I don't see one being very effective, so- our cashapp is $LarkspurWoods & our paypal is @KaiThePotatoChip [long story, don't ask lol]

Anything helps!

Goal progress: $0/600

Our Story

We are currently stuck off-grid in Missouri without a way out.

We moved out here to meet & stay with our dad, who is terminally ill, after being kicked out of our mom's in September. Turns out he's got next to nothing, we're all cramped in a single, disgusting RV [4 of us, not counting our aunt and uncle], and we've lost more than we've gained since being out here.

We were promised before our arrival that we would be able to earn an income out here, & have been unable to aside from just enough to pay our phone bill.

This inability to work has been due largely to all the vehicles our dad's family owns having broken down shortly after our arrival, as well as not having [& not being taught!] many useful skills for this lifestyle.

We don't have reliable internet or a way to seek remote work, either.

We haven't been able to do even basic things like take care of personal hygiene out here. We feel absolutely disgusting. We hate living this way.

We were supposed to get food stamps & our wisdom teeth out, but we can't...

Our father owes us money for the several weeks we have spent splitting wood for him, & has failed to deliver.

There is usually barely enough to eat, as well.

On top of all this, his sister and her husband are ignorant, bigoted, criminally violent alcoholics. They have near-daily instigated arguing and fighting since they arrived a day after we did.

Occasionally there are "good days." On one such day, November 25th, we ended up accidentally having an [attempted civil] discussion about intersex people and advanced biology in which we tried to inform them their worldview was outdated, got shut down, and then mentioned how we felt disrespected- they ended up heated and we walked away from them. they followed us, assaulted us, and their dog bit us 3 times on our ass, left arm, & face.

In addition, we have received multiple thinly veiled death threats when they're upset.

We called the sheriff, and they did nothing.

When our aunt and uncle are sober, they're not as volatile, although still incredibly emotionally abusive, prone to gaslighting, and manipulative.

We do not feel safe here, especially not as they have made it clear they have no intention of leaving anytime soon.

We have several friends and family members in the Oregon-Washington area, as well as a long-distance partner whom we've been dying to see for over a year. Our father promised to assist us with funding a trip to see them and, again, has failed to deliver.

We have been given explicit permission by several people, including our partner's family, that we have a place to stay out there, but we can't afford the plane ticket. after almost 2 months of working, we have only $50 to show for it.

We want desperately to see our partner for the holiday season and to escape our unsafe environment, and it feels like the entire world is against us right now.

We've spent weeks monitoring plane ticket prices, and the lowest is about ~$300 right now counting baggage fees.

We don't even have food money, let alone cash to get any gift for our s/o...

We've talked with a family member & they've offered to help us with getting a job as much as they can, but it's remote, and again we're off grid and don't always have gas to power the generator.

I am BEGGING anyone who has taken the time to read this to help us in some fashion.

We need help with our $300 plane ticket, some for food until we sort out foodstamps, & at least $100 to keep our phone on til we can work.

We can't promise much due to our shitty circumstances, but anything that we can do to assist or return the help we will do- we dabble with art, graphic design, music production, & video editing if people need help. We edit picrews and like making phone wallpapers as well. Just ask, and we'll try our best to do it.

This society has failed us severely. We want to make something more of ourself- we just really need some help.

Thank you to any and all for reading this, and we thank you even more if you decide to help.

[seidkonaz]

my job's entire business model has become reliant on exploiting the desperation of the local working class as the silicon valley tech bros infiltrate and gentrify every rural locale in the bay area like the repulsive disease that they are. i work full time and make only enough to just barely meet my needs, if that. i just got paid on friday and was only able to get the ingredients to make 1 meal before realizing the critical error i made in feeding myself, because now i don't have enough to pay my bills to the insurance companies that bleed me dry 3 times a fucking month. i hope every last tech bro that has driven up the living costs here die in the next wildfire they help cause, because there is literally no reason a $1k paycheck should disappear entirely in 4 fucking days, with more bills to come, before i even have the real opportunity to use any of it to live, which is what the money should actually fucking be for.

anyway. if you're able to help me eat and avoid overdraft fees, i'd appreciate it. any amount helps, the dream would be having somewhere around $150 to tide me over until next week, but even just $1 will get me that much closer to avoiding the red. i have no dignity left, idk why i always try to avoid posting these pitiful fucking e-begging posts. goddamn.

cashapp / $shelbyphiliac paypal / https://www.paypal.com/paypalme/shelbyphiliac

[l33bang24]

OMG It’s You… (Part 2.5)

YouTuber! Fem reader x Stray Kids

Summary: Y/N’s YouTube channel is taking off after her reactions to Stray Kids MV God’s Menu. Now she’s making videos nonstop along with working a full time job. What would happen if she got offered a job of a lifetime and met the boys of her succession?

⚠️Warning⚠️: mild cursing, anxiety, overthinking

🏷️: @laylasbunbunny @weirdowithaphone @silverstarburst @jusanontstuff @anxiousskylar @drewsandsebastianswife @amararosesblog @niaalove (Taglist open)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 6.5 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9

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Y/N’s POV

I rolled out of bed when I heard my alarm go off. I’ve had a motivation block lately (don’t ask me where I came up with that). Some days I just don’t have the energy to get in front of a camera because that said energy gets sucked out from work. Work can be a pain in the ass sometimes, however it brings in money that pays bills even helps with the channel. When I first started the channel, I didn’t have a lot of equipment. I started off with the bare minimum with the money I had leftover from paying bills. Once I had the starting equipment like a microphone, headphones, camera, etc., then I had to come up with the channel name. I ended up with y/c/n because it sounded like me. I knew from the start that I wouldn’t get a lot of views, still that didn’t help my anxiety any.

I try not to let things get to me, though it can be hard when you constantly don’t feel like you’re good enough. Anxiety and overthinking can make a person feel like that, even in situations that have nothing to do with you, yet you still worry about things you can’t control. I started getting ready for work, already dreading going in. Hoping that maybe today would be an easy day.

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It wasn’t an easy day, it was actually the worst really. I am actually glad it’s the weekend though. I’ll have to rest up before I start up a new video. I’ve gotten into the routine of posting at least one to two videos a week (three if I’m feeling frisky). That way I can have time to go in and make edits of what I’ve recorded. I learned how to get a little creative with my videos over time, especially when I started moving my hands around when I’m talking. ‘You mean when you start rambling about a topic for hours?’ I hear my inner thoughts say.

I decided to take the rest of the day to relax since I have been running around all day at work. ‘I’ll just start filming tomorrow. That way I’m rested up from this hectic week and can be productive these next couple of days.’ I tell myself.

The Following Day

Taking a sip of my freshly brewed coffee, I hummed in delight. I took in my surroundings now that I have some caffeine in my system. It was a beautiful day outside. Feeling the morning breeze blow through the air ruffling the trees. Being able to sit on the back porch and take in the scenery with a cup of coffee in your hand makes everything feel simpler. Easier. Just for a moment.

I knew today would be a little busy for me but that’s what happens when you decide to make a YouTube reaction channel, especially when it’s about K-Pop. I had recently seen where I’ve now reached over 300K followers on YouTube. I need to make sure I mention that in my video. I didn’t do it once and the fans didn’t like that, not that I didn’t want to do it. I just didn’t pay it any attention. If I did that would really make my anxiety level go up and I don’t need that.

After finishing my coffee, I decided to go ahead and get started on making some new videos. I pulled my computer and monitors up, making sure that my microphone and headphones were up and ready to go. The last thing being my camera. Checking my monitor to make sure I have it positioned where I want it and that my main screen, where I show what I’m watching, is up as well. Once everything is to my liking, I take a deep breath and think about something that makes me happy to brighten up my mood. Clicking the record button, counting to three, I start my intro.

“Good Morning Lovelies! How are y’all doing this morning?” Taking a pause, I start again. “I hope you’re all doing well. Eating well, sleeping well, and going outside to enjoy the weather. It’s pretty outside today. I decided I’d have my morning coffee out there. Maybe next time I’ll film a little video for y’all, I’d think you’d enjoy it as well. Anyways before I get off track, today we are going to be watching the newest SKZ Code that came out recently. I always wait in case there’s a part two. So that way I can watch it back to back and not wait for the second part to come out. I believe most of you know this by now, though we also have new followers who don’t know that. Now I’m getting off track, haha. I can’t help it y’all, you know this. Okay! Let’s get started before I talk your ear off.” I smile looking at my main monitor that holds my videos for the day. I write down on my sticky notes nearby about the 300K followers so that way I don’t forget. I play the videos that I prepared for the day, laughing my ass off at the boys being silly. Occasionally wiping a stray tear from laughing so hard. Stopping to talk about my favorite parts or having to go back and rewatch a part just to laugh twice as hard as the first time.

Towards the end I look down at the sticky note I prepared. Getting ready to end the video I tell myself what I need to say. “Well, that’s it for the video today! I hope enjoyed it as much as I did, but before I let you go I have some thing I need to say. This channel just hit the 300K subscribers within this past week!! I’m so happy that people love watching Stray Kids as much as I do. I do more than just Stray Kids on here, but my Stray Kids videos get way more views than the others. I don’t like being biased to just one group but Stray Kids has always been the closest to my heart and I know my fellow Stays know that as well. And to Stray Kids if you ever see this, I hope you know just how much we love and appreciate everything that you do.” I smile at the camera. “Thank you everyone for supporting me and continuing to support me. Until then I will see you in the next video.” I do a two finger salute to the camera. “Bye!”

(A/N: Hi everyone! So I tried to get the whole part 2 together but I couldn’t figure out how to at more text under the pictures so I just made a second post to it. If anyone knows how I could do that please let me know because there might be more coming. Anyways thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy it!)

[alchemistc]

Apparently the pumpkin pie I made two days ago is almost gone and the bf and I only had one slice each.

We live in this house for free and the bf's mom is out of state at least half the year. I have no right to make demands of her.

But she leaves her dishes soaking in the sink without bothering to even scrape off the leftover food in them, she uses entire bags of flour and a full dozen eggs she doesn't replace (to feed the people she works for, not even for the house) (and then gets defensive when I very politely ask her if there is any more of *insert item here*), every snack food is depleted by half before we can even get to it, when she offers to get groceries and we give her BARE MINIMUM shit (because again, we live in this house for free bc of her) she either forgets or gets something completely random neither one of us will use. I stock up her bathroom before every visit and still run out of toilet paper a week early. We do our best to avoid using big appliances during peak hours even though we don't pay that bill (it's just common decency to keep that energy bill low when someone else is kind enough to take care of it for us) but God forbid we ask her to wait an extra hour to load up her laundry. She got high a few nights ago during a cold snap, turned the thermostat up to 73, and then flipped the damn thing to Cool because she was cold but also not paying attention and thought the heat was OFF instead of just set low. (I literally just went through every setting and set them btw 63 and 66 bc again, we don't pay that bill). She over feeds the cat she left behind for us to take care of and every time we remind her that the cat pukes all over every time she gives her too many treats it feels like she spitefully gives the cat more treats. She hoards dishes until she's sure she won't have a witness for leaving them in the sink, occasionally soaking (see above). She fills up the trashcan out front and then gets miffed when we tell her we only pay for one can so no, she cannot leave more bags next to the can because 1) critters will get into it and 2) they won't pick it up.

I love her. She's sweet and kind and generous whenever she can be. She takes us out for dinner every time she's in town and she always brings trinkets back with her for us, makes sure we always get gifts for birthdays and Christmas even when we insist she doesn't need to. She spent an afternoon raking all the leaves on the lawn because our second cold snap FINALLY had the rest of the leaves drop and I'm doing my best to be completely normal about the fact that she used twenty-three trash bags to do it because she didn't want to crush the leaves once they were in the bag. She just spent three hundred bucks to replace plumbing that's desperately needed it that we've been putting off.

And I fucking knew that pie was gonna be gone before our mini-thanksgiving. Which is why I bought and HID a second pie crust and can of pumpkin, and only got Cool Whip for it this morning.

All this to say I'm never gonna say a fucking word about ninety-seven percent of these gripes because we live here for free.

But just once, it'd be nice if she asked if she could finish more than half a pie by herself in an evening, or even said something about it before she was back at work for two days and I had to discover it an hour before my turkey was finished.