#it was only like 20 bucks but I didn't have any money

[inkskinned]

i got rickrolled today but it didn't work because i have adblocker installed, so youtube just told me i violated the terms of service. yesterday i was trying to edit a picture as a joke for my girlfriend, and google made me check a box to prove i'm human because i wasn't "searching normally".

it isn't just that capitalism is killing fun and whimsy, it is that any element of entertainment or joy is being fed upon by this mosquito body, one that will suck you dry at any vulnerability.

do you want to meet new friends in your city? download this app, visit our website, sign up for our email list. pay for this class on making a terrarium, on candlemaking, on cooking. it will be 90 dollars a session. you can go to group fitness, but only under our specific gym membership. solve the puzzle, sign up for our puzzle-of-the-month-club. what is a club if not just a paid opportunity - you are all paying for the same thing, which makes you a community.

but you're like me, i know it - you're careful, you try the library meetings and the stuff at the local school and all of that. the problem is that you kind of want really specific opportunities that used to exist. you are so grateful for libraries and the publicly-funded things: they are, however, an exception - and everything they have, they've fought tooth-and-nail to protect. you read a headline about how in many other states, libraries have virtually nothing left.

do you want to meet up with your friends afterwards? gift your friends the discord app. you can choose to go to a cafe (buy a coffee, at least), a bar (money, alcohol) or you can all stay in and catch a movie (streaming) or you can all stay in bed (rent. don't get me started) and scream (noise complaint. ticket at least).

you want to read a new book, but the book has to have 124 buzzwords from tiktok readers that are, like, weirdly horny. you can purchase this audiobook on audible! your podcast isn't on spotify, it's on its own server, pay for a different site. fuck, at least you're supporting artists you like. the art museum just raised their ticket price. once, they had a temporary exhibit that acknowledged that ~85% of their permanent art galleries were from cis white men, and that they had thousands of works by women (even famous women, like frida! georgia o'keefe!) just rotting in their basement. that exhibit lasted for 3 months and then they put everything away again.

walmart proudly supports this strip of land by the street! here are some flowers with wilting leaves. its employees have to pay out-of-pocket for their uniforms. my friend once got fined by the city because she organized a community pick-up of the riverfront, which was technically private property.

no, you cannot afford to take that dance class, neither can i. by the way - i'm a teacher. i'm absolutely not saying "educators shouldn't be paid fairly." i'm saying that when i taught classes, renting a studio went from 20 bucks an hour to 180 in the span of 6 months. no significant changes to the studio were made, except they now list the place as updated and friendly. the heat still doesn't work in the building. i have literally never seen the landlord who ignores my emails. recently they've been renting it out at night as an "unusual nightclub; a once-in-a-lifetime close-knit party." they spent some of those 180 dollars on LEDs and called it renovating. the high heels they invite in have been ruining the marley.

do you want to experience the old internet? do you want to play flash games or get back the temporary joy of club penguin? you can, you just need to pay for it. i have a weird, neurodivergent obsession with occasionally checking in to watch the downfall and NFT-ification of neopets. if i'm honest with you all - i never got into webkins, my family didn't have the money to buy me a pointless elephant. people forget that "being poor" can mean literally "if i buy you that toy, i can't afford rent."

you and i don't have time to make good food, and we don't have the budget for it. we are not gonna be able to host dinner parties, we're not made of money, kid. do you want some kind of 3rd space? a space that isn't home or work or school? you could try being online, but - what places actually exist for you? tiktok counts as social media because you see other people on it, not because they actually talk to you.

there was a local winter tradition of sledding down the hill at my school. kids would use pizza boxes and jackets and whatever worked, howling and laughing. back in september, they made a big announcement that this time, rules were changing, and everyone must pay 10 dollars to participate. when im not scared shitless, i kind of appreciate the environmental irony - it hasn't gone below 40. so much for snow & joyriding.

i saw a bulletin for a local dogwalking group and, nervous about making a good first impression, showed up early. the first guy there grimaced at me. "sorry," he said. "there's a 30-dollar buy-in fee." i thought he was joking. wait. for what? the group doesn't offer anything except friendship and people with whom to walk around the city.

he didn't know the answer. just shrugged at me. "you know," he said. "these days, everything costs money."

[disgustingtwitches]

**MDNI**

"The closest to heaven we'll ever get"

Saw a lot of stuff about Simon helping out a s*x worker. Anyways, it reminded me of a personal experience I had so... Here I am 😃

5.5k words

*This is kind of Simon needing company and being a weirdo who needs constant validation.

Not gonna lie, it gets blasphemous at the end!

~

I always played around with the idea of being an escort. I was offered to do things while working in the strip club, but I always turned it down. I was spending every dollar I made because I could always make more, right? But when I broke up with my ex and realized I didn't have the credit or rental history to get my own place, I started panicking. The only option was to put down at least three months rent cash upfront, to even be considered. Suddenly, money was drying up at the club for me, my regulars were being whisked away by girls who would do more for less. I couldn't really get mad, it's just a part of the game really. So I knew what needed to be done.

I hit up one of my girlfriends and told her that I needed the extra cash and what I was willing to do for it. She helped me set up a website, took professional photos of me, made me business cards. The whole nine yards. Now all I had to do was wait. About a week in, I finally get my first client. It was awkward and surprisingly, both of our first times in this situation. I was sent back home in a black car and a few hundred bucks richer for just 30 minutes of my time. I felt a rush I never felt before.

As the months rolled by, the money came. Luxury was the new standard for me. Designer everything, nice dinners, even nicer dates. To my surprise a majority of my clientele were, at most, 10 years older than me, and even more surprisingly, good looking. Finance bros, guys with daddy's money, or just men who had the money to spare. They always talked about how it was more fun and less work to hire me than get a girlfriend. To get a pretty girl in their arm to parade around that wouldn't bicker and give them a hard time at the end of the night. No feelings attached, just company and good sex.

So here I am Saturday night. Instead of going out to the club like a normal woman my age in Manhattan should be doing. I am in my hotel. Waiting for a call or text from someone. Anybody. My hair in rollers, makeup half done. Just waiting. My phone lights up, a text coming in:

Hi, Gia. Was interested in spending an hour with you tonight, 11pm.

I smiled to myself. Finally, someone who reads my ad properly. Follows the instructions on what to text to me. Straight to the point.

Wonderful, just need a picture of your ID or passport.

I reply. Always a rule my girlfriend drilled into my head. Safety first. If they don't do it, then what could they be planning? Anything goes bad and all you have is a name that couldn't even be real. Any client worth your time understands your safety is a priority. So this was my way of feeling safer. A moment passes before my phone dings again.

A picture of a passport, full name and age. Along with a picture. He's cute. A little older than what I usually get but I'm not complaining. I quickly look him up, nothing out of the ordinary. Good.

Great. Thank you, Simon. I'll send an address for you to send a car at 10:20. Reach out to you then❤️

Before I start to get ready he texts,

Wear something casual.

Not an odd request. Actually most clients prefer it. Want more of a girlfriend vibe rather than an escort. I finished getting ready, helping myself to a glass of wine. Playing my usual bad bitch songs, it helped me turn into the woman I needed to be- from me to Gia.

10:25 rolls around. I get a screenshot of the Uber from him. 5 minutes out. I grab my purse and strut out of my hotel, to a nearby park. Never give your real address. Always make sure you're not being followed.

A black SUV pulls up, I slide in. Exchange pleasantries with the driver and I'm off. Headed to midtown. I share my location with a friend and how long I should be gone. My phone goes off.

Walk into the building and head to the elevators on the left. 36th floor. Apt. 4A.

I nod to myself before shooting a text of confirmation.

Got it. See you soon ;)

I pull up to the building, it's huge. Nicer than most places I've been. He must have some serious cash. I walk into the building and follow the directions he gave me. A little adrenaline rushes through me as I walk up to the door, always did when meeting someone new. I knock. He almost immediately opens the door, as if he was standing in front of it. Waiting.

Simon!

I say with a wide smile. He steps aside as I walk in, looking around. Nice place. Really nice place. Ceiling to floor windows, minimalist decor, the lovely smell of something masculine and expensive. He looks me up and down as I turn to him.

You look just like your pictures.

His voice is deep, alluring, unreadable. Sends a chill up my thighs that shoots straight to my core.

You do too.

I reply playfully. A small twitch plays at the corner of his mouth before disappearing. His face inscrutable. I shimmy off my coat before he takes it, hanging it up in a closet near the entrance. I wait for him to move. He stands, hands in his pockets, studying me. An awkward minute passes before he walks to the living room. I follow.

Really nice place you got here.

I try to make the moment more comfortable.

Hm.

He responds. He wasn't like the other men I've seen before. They are sociable, or at least try to be. I take a seat on the couch next to him, our knees barely touching.

Money's there.

He gestures to an envelope on the table. I nod, grabbing it.

Do you mind if I...?

I ask, opening it up. He nods and stands to pour himself a drink. My eyes widen. This is more than my usual rate. Much more. I'm quiet, trying not to show my shock.

Was hoping to do an overnight, if that's alright.

It was less of a question and more of a statement from him. It was more than enough for a night. I nodded.

Of course, I do wish you would've told me; I would've packed a bag.

I smiled, putting the envelope down on the table. I grab my phone and update my friend on how long I'd be gone for. I put away the phone quickly and look up at him. God, was he hot. And the way he carried himself made him even hotter, so nonchalant. He shrugged, sipping his drink before sitting next to me again, some space between us.

How long you been doing this?

He stares at me, gaze so intense I squirm a little.

Just a few months.

We're quiet again. Usually I try to carry a conversation if the other party can't hold one, but he makes me nervous. I talk again, asking mundane questions. It's like pulling teeth trying to have small talk with him. Maybe he's just not much of a talker.

I scoot closer to him, our knees barely touching. He puts his drink down, and rests his arms on the back of the couch. I lean in closer to him, resting my hand on his thigh before kissing his lips. He kisses back softly. We exchange light, almost timid kisses for awhile. He finally moves. A hand reaching up to grab at my hair, gently pulling. I moan faintly and that seems to set him off. He grabs me by the throat, not hard, just enough to stand me up and guide me to his bedroom; our kisses getting more intense. We strip each other of our clothes. I unbuckle his pants and pull them down, it feels like I'm opening a gift on Christmas. He's big. I smile up at him. He just looks down vacantly. I pull down his boxers and his erection springs up, tip drooling. He opens a drawer next to the bed, pulling out a condom and rolling it on himself.

Lay back.

He commands. I obey, opening my legs. I've done this so many times before, but this time it's different. As unceremoniously as he's treating this, I can't be more excited. His body is amazing, tattoos and scars just adding to the mysterious aura. His natural scent drives me wild. I look up to him as he crawls over me, lining himself up with me. He gives a couple lazy slaps on my slick. I take a sharp breath. He watches as he slides himself in, I tense up. Most guys are well... average. And he's well... much more than that.

Relax.

He huffs. Sliding himself in more, not giving me any time to adjust. I grip the bedsheets, clenching my jaw. I stare up at him, he doesn't even look at me. His face emotionless as he watches himself slide in and out. I try to unclench, opening myself up more to him.

Mhm...

He grunts. My nipples harden at his voice. I moan as he slams into my cervix repeatedly. It makes him shoot his eyes up at me, glaring into mine. His eyes dark pools, intense. He roughly hooks his arms under my knees, pushing them up to my chest. He digs even deeper into me as I whimper. He takes quick, shallow breaths.

You're so deep.

I say panting, the breath getting knocked out of me. I reach out to touch his muscular arms. He grunts and pounds harder into me. I throw my head back, whining. Trying to not wince in pain. He slows for a moment, pulling back, keeping my legs on his shoulders as he slides in and out. My breasts bounce up and down with each thrust.

You're hot.

A hint of emotion in his voice, he reaches down to knead my chest. My face gets hot. I tighten around him.

Fuck...

He makes a sound that almost resembles a moan. I smile up at him, almost proud of making him show any emotion. He looks down at me, a flicker in his eyes, a small smirk on his face that leaves as quickly as it came. He parts my legs and rubs at my clit in rough circles. I squirm under him.

Say my name.

He orders. His strokes picking up as I get used to him.

Simon~

As soon as his name leaves my lips, a deep rumble from his chest fills my ears. He leans over me, arms on either side of my head. I reach up to run my hands up and down the back of his neck.

Say you love me.

His request takes me aback. I pull him closer, my lips just under his ear.

I love you~

He immediately tenses up and takes a heavy breath. I could feel him twitch inside me as he finishes. He pulls away quickly, going to the bathroom to throw out the condom and clean up. He brings back a wet towel, wiping me down.

What's your name?

His tone as flat as ever.

Gia.

I responded. I know what he's actually asking me. Never, ever tell a trick your real name. Hell, he shouldn't even know your real age.

You know what I mean.

He glares at me. I shift awkwardly. Don't do it. He doesn't say a word, just stares in a way that makes me uncomfortable. Why should he know your real name anyways? I tell him my name. Stupid. Fucking dumbass. I kick myself. He nods and slides into some sweats, throwing me his shirt.

Let's watch something.

I throw on his shirt. Now this is what I'm used to. Being a temporary girlfriend. Pretending to be affectionate. Giving much needed companionship. He splays out on the couch as I lay on top of him. He turns on the TV, resting a hand on my ass and squeezing it. Maybe this is why he hires girls. Because of how distant he is. The man can't even hold a conversation. He flicks on some show he was in the middle of, a business dramedy that I couldn't care less about. I rest my head on his chest and he runs his fingers through my hair. We're like this for a while, quiet.

Tell me you love me.

He says dryly, looking down at me. I look up and kiss him.

I love you, Simon.

He gets hard immediately, rubbing himself on me. He gets up, lifting me up effortlessly, and throws me on the bed. He lays on top of me, pinning me down onto the bed. Kissing me much more passionately this time, like he was trying to taste every inch of my mouth.

Keep saying it.

His voice gruff. He moves his kisses down to my neck, pawing at my bust.

I love you, Simon.

I moan. I wanted him so badly. I don't care how I got him, I just wanted to take him. Something about him made me go crazy, deep inside. He yanks up the shirt I was wearing, moving his kisses more and more south.

You fuck other people raw?

I shake my head. I might've been a whore, but I wasn't reckless.

Never.

He nods.

Can I eat you out?

I look down at him. Something about seeing him between my legs makes me wanna say yes. The way his eyes looks almost as if he's pleading, desperate. No way. Never do that.

Yes.

I allow him to keep going. What the fuck am I doing? Why am I allowing this? Before I can think more, he plunges his tongue between my lips. Lapping up desperately, burying his face into me. I roll my eyes back, running my fingers through his hair.

I love you, Simon.

I gasp. It's the only thing he wanted me to say. I saw something in him, the way he reacted when I said that, it made me want to stay in his place forever. To never leave. Make him happy. It's just the good head talking, you'll snap back to your senses afterwards. He moans so quietly I can barely hear it. Barely. My legs on his shoulders, his arms wrapped around my thighs. Digging fingers into the soft flesh. He sucks on my nub repeatedly. It's a tortuously delicious feeling. I grip his hair a little.

I love you, Simon.

I look down at him, watching him devour me. He looks up at me, his eyes showing an emotion I can't decipher. He moves one hand down to slide two fingers into me.

I love you, Simon.

I moan, throwing my head back and smiling.

Hmm...

He mumbled into my heat. Pumping in and out before bending his fingers in a way that presses against my sweet spot. I hiss, pleasure flashing through me like a strobe light. I'm dripping wet. He pulls his fingers out and plunges his tongue into my entrance, trying to suck out every drop of my juices.

You taste good.

Voice as flat as ever, as if he isn't lost in between my folds. He drags his tongue up between my lips, from my entrance to my nub again. He slips his fingers in again, pressing up against my sweet spot repeatedly. I get lost in the feeling. God I could stay like this forever. He looks up at me, like he's looking for validation.

I love you, Simon~

I slip out between heavy breaths. He picks up the pace of his fingers and tongue. My face gets hot as I get closer, grip his hair a little harder. He goes even faster, harder, almost feverant. I roll my eyes back, panting. I whimper before crying out, tightening around his fingers in a vice grip.

I love you, Simon~

I force the words from my throat as I spasm under him. He continues, seemingly determined to draw another climax out of me. I mewled, trying to push his head away. He was unmoving for an unbearable moment. The only sounds were my pants and his slurping.

I love you, Simon.

I wailed, almost hoping it'll make him stop. He does thankfully. He pulls away, tearing off his sweats, beating off himself. Staring at me, his gaze is intense as ever. He grabs me by the thighs and drags me into his lap. He continues to stroke himself, staring into my wet core as if he was hypnotized by it.

Can I...

He starts, almost knowing he shouldn't ask the question.

Can I fuck you raw?

His voice is uncharacteristically soft and unsure. I blink at him, mind racing. ABORT! ABORT! THIS IS LIKE RULE #1 IN HOE-ING!!! He looked so delicious from this angle, his eyes still glued on my wetness. ARE YOU INSANE?? NO!! His throbbing, beautiful dick is twitching.

...yes.

I nod. You're the dumbest person on the planet. I insult myself a million different ways in my head. A brief moment of regret is replaced with pleasure as he slides his tip teasingly in and out of me. His jaw clenches, chest rising and falling faster. His voice cracks as a moan escapes him, his eyebrows furrow.

I love you, Simon.

I stare at him, eyes half lidded. The smallest smile spreads across his face, still looking at himself entering me. He inches his way in. Pulling in and out, going deeper each time. I squeeze him, make him bite his lip.

That's good.

He stated, voice quavering. He clears his throat before grabbing one leg and lifting it to my chest, digging deep into me. I take a sharp breath in. He hovers over me, arms on either side of my head again. He slides in and out, slowly at first then picking up to a punishing pace. I whimper and wiggle under him. He grabs my face, forcing me to look into his eyes that bore into mine.

I love you, Simon.

I stare right back at him, passion shooting right out of my eyes. His eyes flutter for a moment before blinking back into his cold, unnerving self. He continues to dig himself into me, slamming and grinding himself into the deepest parts of me. It's a painfully addicting feeling. I take his hand and press it up against my lower stomach so he can feel how much he fills me. He clenches his jaw so hard, it looks like his head could pop.

I love you, Simon.

I whisper. He drops down on top of me, snaking his arms around and behind my back to grab my ass. His mouth right next to my ear, I can hear his fast and shallow breaths. Little groans that slip out every now and then. I wrap my arms around his neck, holding him tighter.

I love you, Simon.

I hear him groan under me as I said it again. He goes faster than before, pretty much jackhammering me into the mattress. My mouth is agape and head thrown back. Only grunts escape my throat as I get fucked senseless.

Mhm...like that?

His words bounce around in my empty head. I replay it in my head over and over until I clench around him, he doesn't stop though. It only seems to spur him on even more. His warm breath tickling my ear as it gets more ragged.

Keep saying it.

He demands through gritted teeth.

Fuck... I love you, Simon.

I squeak out the words. He huffs and continues to rampage my body.

Can I come inside you?

He asks- No, begs. No use in turning back now. Just the thought made me close again.

Yes.

I nod and he breathes harder and harder until he pleads in a strained voice,

Say it.

I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper inside me.

I love you, Simon~

He spills inside me. His stammered breaths and moans driving me crazy. The feeling of him pumping into me driving me over the edge. I pull him closer, practically squeezing him.

I love you, Simon.

I tenderly kiss the top of his head as he nuzzles into my neck.

How often do you do this?

My head clears, a wave of regret coming over me.

Never. I never even hired anyone before you.

He says in a way so sincere I honestly believe him. How do you know when a trick is lying? Their mouth is open. Rules. Rules to live by, to be able to survive doing what I do. Rules. They all meant nothing as soon as I laid eyes on him. Somehow saw this coming a mile away in the back of my head. He pulled away from my grasp, disappointment flooded me. He leaned back, opening my legs: watching both of our cum dripping out of me.

Say it.

His eyes so focused, as if he were trying to take a picture with his mind; so he would never forget this moment.

I love you, Simon.

I say with a tender smile. His dick jumps. Good lord is this man insatiable. He stands up and does the same routine as before, cleaning himself up and then me. He hands me his shirt:

Here.

I throw it on and he leads me to the bathroom, grabbing me by the shoulders and making me face the mirror. He gently pushes my back, I lean my elbows on the countertop. I stand on the balls of my feet, trying to get my hips to meet his. As I look in the mirror, his face looks almost tender watching me sway my hips.

I love you, Simon~

I sing softly. He bites his lip, entering me again. God, I never get used to the feeling. He grabs my hips and pulls me onto him, he bottoms me out. Groaning louder this time, he pulls my hair back so I'm looking directly at the mirror, locking eyes with him.

S'it, pretty girl...

A corner of his mouth upturned just enough to know he's enjoying himself. His words make me flutter around him. He groans and starts to pound into me. The bathroom is filled with the duet of our breaths and groans. He pulls my hair so my back is pressed against his chest. He rests a hand on my throat, squeezing just enough. Moves his lips to my neck, still sliding in and out of me.

You love me? Huh?

He grunts, warm breath on the pulse of my neck.

I love you. So much.

I moaned. I repeated the phrase so many times, it started coming out of my mouth naturally. He moved his hand from my hair to my lower stomach, pressing against it so he could feel himself hitting my walls.

You love this dick, yeah? Say it.

His voice getting more demanding and urgent. I nod and look at him through the mirror, smiling.

I love it, I love this dick so much, Simon~

He nips at my neck as he continues to fuck me. His nips turn into bites. Bites that definitely leave marks. I didn't care, that didn't matter right now.

You're never fucking leaving, you know that?

A threat that sounded like heaven to me. He could keep me chained to the bed and I wouldn't care, just as long as he kept fucking me like this. I giggled with excitement.

You like that, hm?

He smiles against my skin before continuing to lick and bite my neck.

I love it~

I truly did. It felt heavenly. Better than anyone I've ever had. Ever. Something felt so familiar about his touch. As if I belonged there.

I love you, Simon~

At this point I feel like I'm reciting a prayer, the words flowing out of me like a stream. I was melting in his arms.

Turn around, wanna see that pretty face.

I did so eagerly as he lifted me up on the counter and slid inside me. I smirked up at him. He, as always, was watching himself impale me.

Looks so pretty...

He seemingly mumbled to himself. He leaned down and pressed our foreheads together, a firm hand on the back of my head. Hitting a spot so deep inside me I never knew I had. We were like this for a long minute, sloppy sounds of our sex bouncing off the walls.

I love you, Simon.

I stared into his eyes. They seem to soften for a moment before he tightened the grip on the back of my neck. A huff, and then he came undone. He stayed inside me until he was soft. He pulls out and pushes his fingers into my cunt, stuffing his seed back into me.

Hm.

He grunts in a way that sounds like approval before helping me off the counter. He leads me to bed and slips under the covers.

In my arms.

Commanding as he usually does. I press my head against his chest, his heart beating hard and fast. He wraps an arm around me, his touch much gentler than before. I fall asleep. Not too sure if he does too.

Morning comes and I'm woken up by the sun shining in my face. Sitting up, I'm in his bed, still wearing his shirt. Alone. I walk out to the living room and see him setting up breakfast on the coffee table.

You made this?

I question, surprised.

Ordered it. Good morning.

He turns to me, shoving his hands in his pockets. He looks at me expectantly. I blink at him.

Good morning.

I say. He looks at me as if he was anticipating something else. I think for a moment before suddenly remembering.

I love you, Simon.

He steps to the side, inviting me to sit on the couch. I help myself to a seat and look at the plate in front of me. It's simple, French toast and eggs. I help myself.

Are you gonna eat anything?

I look at him quizzically. He shakes his head, staring like always. We're silent as I finish my plate. I grab my phone and check the time. Almost time for me to leave.

Can I book you for longer?

His voice is gruff. An underlying tone, pleading?

It'll be expensive.

I didn't want to say that. Wanted to say I'll stay as long as he likes. But I already made too many mistakes. Gotta get back on track.

I don't care.

Of course he didn't. He could probably buy me out for the rest of my life if he wanted to. He pulled out his phone, asking for my personal number so he could send the money straight to my bank account. Hesitantly I gave it to him. He probably could find out that stuff if he wanted to anyways. My phone dings, I check my bank app. My eyes pop out of my head. I look up at him bewildered.

How long would that get me?

He asks, as if he didn't send me an ungodly amount of money.

It's enough for a whole week...

Shock still overwhelming me.

You wanna stay that long?

He doesn't really ask. He knows I'll say yes. Doesn't even wait for my answer.

I'll let you get your things.

He throws some of his clothes my way and sends me back in a car to the hotel. I grab my bags and checkout. Is this really happening? A call from my girlfriend. I tell her about his extension. She says something about making sure he's not a serial killer. We laugh, tells me to have fun, don't fall in love. I scoff as if that was the stupidest idea I've heard. As soon as I know it I'm back at his place, he's grabbing bags from me, setting them to the side. Turning to me and running a hand up the side of my waist.

I love you, Simon.

We spend the whole week tangled up in each other. Taking a break before I say those four words and he has me pinned against a wall or over a dresser or kitchen counter. Any flat surface, really.

It's Saturday night and we're showering, cleaning off sweat and other bodily fluids from each other. His touch is so gentle, handling me like I was a piece of china. He liked me. It was obvious. Seemed like the only way he knew how to show it was by fucking me, though. I liked him too. Maybe not to the extent he did.

Seemed like he found something he needed for a long time. He was hungry. Famished. He couldn't just let go of me. He's not satiated yet. Don't know if he'll ever be. It was a looming feeling. Dark and heavy. A little scary. But it made me feel more desired than I've ever been before. And not just a carnal desire. It made me feel coveted.

We're laid up on his couch. Watching the show I didn't care for before, a little more invested. My phone lights up, buzzing. The name of a regular of mine across the screen in big bold letters. This is usually the time of the month he calls to set up a date. A reminder that this is all temporary. I let it go to voicemail. He tenses up. Jealousy and disappointment radiating off him.

How much for the whole month?

He doesn't even let me think of an answer before speaking again.

How much to make you quit for good?

I'm a little shook, sure I've heard it a dozen times before. Always said in jest. But he's serious. The few words he said, he always seemed to mean. No need to waste his breath beating around the bush. My heart races. I can feel his pound against mine. A number doesn't come to my head.

Let's just see how this goes.

He doesn't like that answer. He wants something solid. A promise that I'll never leave. More than a promise. But that's as good as he can get right now. There's a tense silence between us.

I love you, Simon.

The only thing I can think of saying right now. He takes hold of me, climbing into the bed and sits me in his lap. His back against the headboard.

C'mon love.

He says frigid. An underlying tone of disappointment and hurt. I slide myself down on him, a little more adjusted to his size now. He wraps strong arms around my waist, pulling me so close it seems like he wants to coalesce into my very being.

Give me a number.

A demand that seems more like a plea. We hold each other. Unmoving as he is still buried deep inside me.

Maybe it is a little toxic to spiral into the addiction to fast money. Maybe I'm a little sick of pretending to be the perfect woman. Maybe it is a little exhausting to be a fantasy and nothing more. Maybe it is a little lonely when it's just me lying in bed, when I have to comfort others. Where's my comfort in all of this? Where's my happiness in all of this? No more fake smiles. No more fake orgasms. No more fake feelings. I don't care if he's lying. I want to indulge in delusion. Even for a moment.

Ok.

I give in. He leans over, placing me on my back before adjusting himself on top of me. Touches my face, his showing an emotion that is genuine and staggering. Devotion? It feels like it.

I could almost cry, the way he takes me like I'm his. The way he talks to me like I'm not someone he hired. That didn't matter anymore. I wasn't an escort to him. I was his girl. The sex was different. Transcendant. Divine. Did I know I wanted to be saved? Of course I didn't know; for the life of sin and suffering is simply a thing to toil in until you are shown salvation. Every time he came, he baptized me. I was born again in his eyes, I was perfect and clean. Absolved of my sins.

He looked at me with so much adoration. I looked up at him, much in the same way Magdalene did to her Redeemer. He had turned a prostitute into a Saint. The unshakeable feeling of deliverance washed over as he touched me, no longer a leper. I was saved by him. His body. His sweat. His seed. Akin to taking Communion. The closest to heaven we'll ever get.

[weirdworldofwinnie]

Oasis in a Desperate Land of Dark Desire - Part One: Arrival

Cillian Murphy as J. Robert Oppenheimer x Female Wife Reader, NSFW 18+ only

Summary: You are married to the man in charge of the Manhattan Project himself, Dr. Robert Oppenheimer, and it's your first day (and night) at Los Alamos where tension and unspoken worry is getting high, but he finds time to show you how love can be an oasis in what seems like a rather barren land.

Word Count: ~7, 213

Warnings: Age gap (reader is mid-20s and he is almost 40, and they have been married for a couple years), period stereotypical gender roles (maybe sexism?), unprotected + oral sex, mention of miscarriage, and strong hints at infidelity

Disclaimer: Obviously NOT completely historically or scientifically accurate to real life and is inspired by the film with Cillian Murphy's portrayal of Oppenheimer. There are definitely mentions of Katherine and Jean Tatlock as lovers in this, but he does not have any children with Kitty and is not physically with either of them presently. I also want to clarify that this (while researched) is still just my interpretation with AU elements added in, and it isn't supposed to be in total support and reflection of the real man's life/personality. Scroll away and DNI if you are uncomfortable or take issue with this story; it is primarily for entertainment purposes only and it is just fantasy/fiction!

April 1943

The ride en route to the secluded destination christened as "Los Alamos" was long, hot, and bumpy through the New Mexico desert on a single primitive dirt road with the sun beating down on the windshield, glaring into your eyes and reflecting off the expensive dainty golden watch wrapped around your wrist that had been last year's anniversary present, and the jostling motion of the car made your breasts jiggle up and down slightly, reminding you that you'd been in such a hurry to leave with Robert this morning you'd regrettably forgone putting on a bra. He glanced over to you now, his porkpie hat shadowing the serious and contemplative expression that he had been wearing as a regular look for weeks now... Finally this plan was coming to fruition, but at what cost? It was the government's money and the scientists who were on the line. Robert let you know more details than most out of his non-physics inner circle because he trusted you to keep your lips sealed, but he never gave specifics about what exactly the coined Manhattan Project, or Project Y, was for in terms of a mission yet because it was national security level secret, however it didn't take a genius to figure out it was incredibly important and the development of something dangerous... Too dangerous to keep in a campus laboratory at Berkeley.

As the car approached the main gate and passed by the checkpoint, you realized just now fairly remote this barbed-wire location was and it made a small sinkhole crater in your stomach. But Robert knew this land from his youth and you partly did too, for he owned ranchland here and you both had spent many hours in the last couple years roaming on horseback and on foot into the twilight hours of the day, feeling the chill of the evening breeze and the rustle of shrubbery as the sun dipped down below the horizon and plum light bathed the landscape, bouncing off the backdrop of mountains and reaching deep into the canyons. You recalled fondly one time in particular during the early stages of being courted by him... It was technically only the second date and he had mistakenly trusted you with a horse, even though you were hardly an experienced rider, and of course it had gone ballistic and attempted to buck you off as you held on for dear life to the stiff dark brown leather saddle.

"Woah... Woah! Easy, easy," Robert had called out, grabbing a hold of the bridle and patting the stallion on the neck as you gasped and he kicked his hooves, thrashing the dirt and missing Robert's cowboy boots by inches.

"This one can be a bit rowdy, sometimes the wild never quite gets bred out, and he's not used to you," he explained simply over your panicked cries as he kept patting and verbally calming the animal down.

"But what did I do wrong? I swear, he dislikes me tremendously!" you exclaimed in shock and Robert only shook his head.

"Then he has very poor taste in women if he rejects you," he had joked and you went sliding off the horse's back to where Robert caught you, easing you to the ground gently.

"Are you alright?" he asked, eyes alight with a mischievous concern, but you merely brushed your pants off and smoothed your blouse, shaking the experience off.

"Of course I am. Now are we riding or not?"

He smiled at your confidence, but had hoisted you up onto his horse instead, straddling you from behind so you were facing front and clutching onto the reins. His arms loped around your waist and the horse began to trot, bouncing both you and him in a steady up and down motion, and you flicked the reins, causing the horse to take off into the expansive landscape and Robert let out a joyous whoop as the pace transitioned into a gregarious cantering gallop and the wind whipped your hair around like a battered Old Glory flag in a storm.

"This is too fast!" you had yelled out, but he only laughed, tightening his hold into a squeeze around you and spoke into your ear with a low murmur which instinctively made the goosebumps flare up on your neck.

"I wouldn't let you go even if that horse went mad and flew us off the ground over into a ravine to our deaths."

A little more than six months later after that frivolous adventure, he had dropped to his knee in that very desert and proposed to you, a diamond engagement ring encased in a black box in his palms and you were startled, taken aback at the promptness and faintly aware he was actively seeing at least one other woman at the time, but he had claimed he called it off with her a week ago.

You had cautiously accepted, knowing he was far from a wholesome man, but he was certainly one in a billion and you had unapologetically been with him ever since, even though some friends and extended relatives had openly judged, thinking you were only climbing up a social status ladder by doing so, and a couple of your more left-leaning girlfriends thought you were foolish to already settle for a man at your young age, but you truly loved him. Romance was rather odd; so rushed it could be and yet you felt comfortable around him as if you had known each other for life; soulmates, perhaps, if there ever was such a notion.

The wedding ceremony had been lavish enough to make you feel special, but it had been a more low-key event with only a small group of the closest friends and family in attendance, for he did not want much pomp and circumstance and you had spent the honeymoon at his secluded New Mexico ranch property, bizarrely a sort of prelude to where you both were ending up now. The phone hadn't stopped ringing for the past few weeks and since this work was taking up presidency, it was truth to be told that you hadn't really had time for each other and had been distant these past couple months as he diverted all his focus and intellect to the government and you hoped that after all this preparation, everything would settle somewhat now that he was at the ground level site. You felt trepidation but also excitement because this venture felt relevant and Robert was in his element with the company of like minded individuals all working towards a common goal. His vocation in teaching what he already knew of upper level physics had been boring him lately and he had told you multiple times he was haunted by the pressing need to be essential to the war effort outside of the confines of a classroom; he and his students had to make a real impact and change to the world, to this damned war. And if Robert wasn't the most ambitious, motivated, self-driven intelligent human being you'd ever met, then you'd be stumped to know who was right for the job; he could be dangerously dogged and was as loyal to this country as roots were to their corresponding corn stalks.

And now, starting today, he was the one man scientific director, a ruler really, of this militarized oasis in the middle of, well, nowhere.

Fractions of the place were still in progress, as evident by the trucks and the hammering with the occasional man lumbering past hauling construction boards on his shoulders. The Oppenheimers were still early in arrival, but everyone else on the project was supposed to be settled in by the end of the week. The house you and your husband were to live at was much better off than the cookie-cutter houses hastily put up suburban style along the man-made streets and it was tucked furthest away from the epicenter of town; a large spacious log and stone cabin (that had been formerly a boys' school) ranch style home surrounded by pine trees and shrubs along with a decent yard with that seemed ripe for cultivating a garden, and yet the home was modest and not overly luxurious; this was no vacation.

"The kitchen isn't finished?" you asked in surprise at once upon entry inside and Robert sighed, knowing you how much you had a penchant for cooking and he also knew that hosting gatherings here was going to be essential.

"I'll make sure they get it complete by the end of the week," he assured, resting a hand on the small of your back as you dropped down the luggage on the floor.

"Well, it is rather nice otherwise," you admitted, turning to him and smiling, but he couldn't quite return the gesture.

"Robert, what's the matter?" You reached to cup his cheek and he leaned into your touch before lifting up his own hand and placing it atop the one plastered to his face.

"I'm frankly worried how this is all going to work, how soon we can accomplish what we need to do. The death toll in Germany grows by the day, it may already be too late and..."

You placed a hand to his lips, shushing him with sadness.

"Please, shh, I'll have none of that talk when we just arrived in our new house. We are here now and that is the most important first step that matters towards any kind of accomplishment to your saving the world from this hellish war."

"I need to go do some oversight on the operations in town and at the laboratory," he announced abruptly, stepping back from your touch and picking up his briefcase as you nodded, moving with him to the front door.

"I'll see you tonight then. I think I'll make deviled chicken with a creamy coleslaw."

"I'm sure it will be delicious." He gave a tight smile and it was a somewhat ironic statement coming from the man who ate less than a thousand calories a day. That was one frustrating aspect about him that you had discovered when you had moved in with him back in California and realized he never had regular meals, and lately drinks and cigarettes were his main fuel. You hoped one of these days your passion for food would finally rub off on his aversion, but it probably wouldn't happen here with the increased supply rationing.

He disappeared out the door with his hat and you stood for awhile, taking in this new environment inside the main part of the house with its interesting architecture of high beamed ceilings and picture windows that allowed ample amounts of natural light at almost all hours. You spent most of the day unpacking and organizing, briefly going out to greet and visit with the other wives of top scientists, some you already knew, but others you had not met until today and you noticed that one of those you weren't familiar with was visibly pregnant... She was even younger than you and seeing her led you to wonder how quickly this little manufactured desert town was going to see a population boom in the next few years. Robert had brought up the concept of having children with you on more than one occasion, since you had already gone through one miscarriage (only in your first trimester and you never knew the sex of it, the doctor told you it could have been worse if you had carried to full term and lost the infant at birth, but it was still a gutting loss... Although you knew Robert was privately relieved, especially now since his work would likely leave no room in his heart to father an innocent, demanding child and all the burden would go to you alone) and there was the fact of possible infertility. The hardship of procreation probably ran in the family... Your mother had also miscarried, then had your premature brother who caught polio at two years old and perished weeks later, and then she herself had died during your own childbirth, leaving your father devastated and alone to care for you. You had a complicated, strained relationship early on with him and you wondered perhaps Freud was loosely right about the Oedipus complex since you always had such strong attractions to older men... but at least your father always tried to give you the best possible life he had with his wealth, which led you to moving out from your childhood home in New York across the country to pursue attending college in California in the field of psychology and medicine. You had been in the process of getting a degree in nursing, at least until Robert altered your life by his own ambitions and you had been forced to drop your studies temporarily to move out here with him, but you planned to be studying some by correspondence if the government allowed and also to be able to help out in the small hospital on site for an occupation.

To trim the excess fat off a long story short, it had been a bizarre fluke that you met and promptly fell in love with Robert... you were introduced on campus by friends who also knew Jean Tatlock, a budding psychiatrist and proudly Communist, and he had happened to take a bright shine to you. You considered him unattainable at first, a very well respected brilliant physics teacher with more life experience than you could have dreamed of... He was otherworldly at times, yet found grounding earth in your presence, but it would mystify you what exactly he found so desirable in you. You were as lovely as any other woman your age and smart, but you never thought of yourself as outstandingly intelligent when compared to the people he taught in academia, and not absolutely drop dead gorgeous in terms of prize worthy beauty. Perhaps the attraction, like Robert's scientific passion, was on a molecular scale and only bonded by invisible atoms making the illusion of being a solid relationship. Maybe it was as basic as the fact that you two were mutually compatible with each other and respectable of any differences, unlike his other fiery messy relationships with Jean and Katherine. Would you having a baby split that all apart? Personally, you weren't sure you were ready for any offspring yet and to be thrown into motherhood when you were still navigating having a successful marriage and you highly doubted "The Hill" (as the residents here were calling it) would be a healthy environment for children to thrive in, despite the efforts for a school and daycare, seeing that there were armed uniforms milling about all hours of the day and silent stress was already pervasive in every look, cough, and casual conversation you noticed through passing by. And it was only day one of, as Robert predicated, two to three years of hard work swathed in isolated secrecy.

As daylight began to fade fast and inevitably hand itself over to the darkness, you went back to the house to fry up the chicken. The stove was effective, although one burner seemed a little on the fritz, but half of the cabinetry was unfinished and the counter space was minimal.

Laying out the cream-colored napkins and the finest china you had brought packed securely in a box, you delicately set the table. Despite not having a birth mother to guide you through womanhood, you took to home keeping fairly well and religiously read the magazines, believing being married to an upper class man meant all these details and roles. But privately you also felt the crushing pressure and caught yourself wondering if you were immature to be in this mold. Robert never told you otherwise though and he would theoretically be the last man to stamp out a woman's sense of inner individuality, but you couldn't ignore the fact you, while willingly, still had to sideline your educational and career priorities to come support and live here with your husband. But it didn't matter too much, for you knew in your heart you could follow this man to the ends of the earth if you so desired.

For good ambient measure, you lit two pillar candles in the center of the tablecloth and just as you laid the food on a plate, you heard the front door crack open and the soft clomping of shoes.

Robert would never be the 'Honey, I'm home!' type of husband, yet he always managed to make an entrance regardless, especially now. His slender frame leaned into the doorway, hands crumpling his hat in front of his crotch and the candlelight flashed harrowing ghoulish shadows across his sharp cheekbones and dull pinkish lips.

"Well, what do you think?" you proposed, gesturing to the table spread when he didn't speak. He only gazed at your feminine features, his eyes full of desire that wasn't for the dinner you made, and when his mouth finally parted, he spoke in a husky voice, slowly coming closer and abandoning his hat to a chair, closing in on you.

"I'm sure it is very palatable, but I fear my hunger cannot be fulfilled by only earthly consumption," he confessed, ducking to kiss your cheek and moving his hands up to your neck, caressing your nape and moving his mouth to your lips, but you gently pushed him away, pressing into the fabric of his gray suit jacket.

"We should wait until after dinner," you told him earnestly, knowing what he wanted instead.

"Dessert, then?" he murmured, coming close again despite your light physical resistance and thumbing your bottom lip. You smiled and his arm snaked under your skirt and between your thighs, hand crawling upward to your panties and you breathed in, changing your mind.

"Maybe I can wait to eat after all."

His breath caught, a single finger inches from hitting your covered vaginal area, before he removed his teasing hand and pulled back, gripping your shoulders with conviction.

"Eat. You deserve it and you worked hard on preparing it, I can observe."

He bent down, gentlemanly drawing out a chair for you to sit down in, which you did, letting his hands linger at the neckline of your blouse before he walked around to the other side of the small round table and took a seat, rummaging out a cigarette from the pack in his shirt pocket and striking it up with his lighter, the smoke wafting in wispy trails around his head. You took a careful first bite, relishing in the flavor and spices (paprika in particular) as he sat there across from you, relaxing back in his chair and taking a drag on the cigarette, puffing out a sigh. You smirked, swallowing a forkful as he kept his gaze steady on you.

"You're making me self conscious, just sitting there surveying my appetite," you told him and he grinned, fiddling with the cigarette.

"I enjoy watching you eat. You are the very essence of life I see lacking in so much of this world."

You blushed in the warm glow of the candlelight, remaining humble.

"That is quite a compliment I don't know if I'm quite worthy of."

"You are, no jury would contradict me." He nodded sincerely as he smoked and you ate in silence for a few minutes before he then finally gave his cigarette a rest and poked at his food, politely taking a few bites of hot chicken and chewing at a snail's pace.

"How did today go?" you tentatively asked, finishing off your own chicken and moving to the rich, crunchy coleslaw.

"We will be making progress. Although I will always say, that General Groves is the most obstinate man with the exact deposition one would expect from a bulldog," he answered with a touch of bitter amusement.

"Should you be saying that? They're... not listening, are they?" you asked in a hushed paranoid voice, glancing around the room and knowing that the phone lines were tapped for sure, but you weren't certain they would go as far to place bugging devices hidden in the house.

"Relax, I could say much worse," Robert admitted nonchalantly with a harmless shrug and you allowed yourself a chuckle, mentally picturing a bulldog in a General's uniform. You took a bite of cabbage, changing the conversation to your side of social contacts in this limited town.

"I met with our neighbors and the other ladies today. They seem cordial and we have already exchanged pleasantries and plans for a party next weekend. I also offered to babysit one mother's two rambunctious little boys and spoke to the doctor at the medical facility about assistance there."

Robert nodded, gesturing with his empty fork.

"Keeping busy I see, but I'll have to arrange to let you in the office sometime instead of spending your days cooped up here and at the neighbors. I missed you and your insight already today."

"But you know I am not privy to everything you and your scientists are doing here..." you started to protest before he cut you off.

"I'm well aware, but I doubt a visit to my own office will cause a security uproar. You are my wife, Y/N. The reason most of the scientists came to Los Alamos in the first place was not solely the work, but because they could bring their wives, their families. We do our best work with moral and... sexual support." He raised his eyebrows and you felt a tingle run through you, a yearning for exactly what he was suggesting, but you had to finish the meal first.

Once you cleared most of your plate, he surprised you by taking the dishes and quickly rinsing the plates in the sink before making and pouring out his signature martinis. You knew Robert must be silently stressed however, for he only took one sip of his drink before he moved outside under the roof awning with his tobacco pipe, settling down on a folding chair and gazing out at the landscape and listening to the low mumble of military personnel mingling about on patrol as though this were a prison (which it was).

You joined him with a cigarette a few minutes later (you had never smoked a single cigarette until you married Robert and unconsciously adopted the habit, but you weren't much of a smoker when it made you cough, yet you kind of enjoyed the nicotine having that convenient effect of temporarily soothing your nerves) and positioned yourself down next to him, letting the cigarette dangle from your lips while folding your hands neatly on your knees.

His eyelids were appearing heavy and his head drooped, chin tucking down. You gave him a bumping nudge and he looked over at you, teeth clamped down on his pipe.

"Tired?" you wondered and he gave a noncommittal grunt, fixing his eyes back straight ahead. You noticed how still he was - calm - and it was a welcome change from the past few weeks where he had been wound up, constantly on the phone at one point or another and gone for many hours in meetings. But now that nearly everyone was all here, it was almost too tranquil... giving the illusion of calm before potential chaos.

"Oppie!" a young man's voice suddenly called out and he came jogging into view on the rock slabbed pathway, halting slightly when he saw you.

"Oh, good evening Ma'am," he greeted courteously with a squinted smile. You smiled in turn, nodding, and he focused to Robert, who gave a tilt of his pipe in acknowledgement and stood up stiffly.

"Any news I should know about, Feynman?"

The man paused, glancing to you warily.

"Is it about the nature of our work?" Robert asked sharply and Feynman shook his head.

"No, sir, it is not pertaining to that."

"Well, whatever it is you can say in front of my wife and I then."

"It's just a communicative matter. There was a phone call from a young woman asking for you earlier that was flagged in the office for personal matters concerning security. Groves is in a fit and I was to inform you tomorrow, but I thought I'd give fair warning and-"

"Then I will address it tomorrow," Robert interrupted and without further word, took your arm and marched you back inside the house. You shook off his touch and shut the door hard, spinning to address him.

"What the hell was that about?"

He closed his eyes and sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and rubbing his forehead while exhaling.

"There are intimate ghosts that continue to haunt me," he answered cryptically, taking refuge in the lounge and sipping his martini, but you had a hunch however who was the "ghost" because you knew her and you pointed a finger sternly at him.

"This is about Jean, isn't it? How does she even know to contact this location? And I thought you were all done with her, as you are with that Katherine!"

"I am, I swear to it. But she is different than any other woman I have been with before you, though. She can be... unstable and she may need to hear from me."

"She just wants your sex, that's all!"

"It's more complicated than that."

"You had nights with her while you were having nights with me during courting, I heard about it from our friends. It was still the sex that was the driving factor that she desired from you."

He looked down, unable to deny that entirely and you backed away, shaking your head.

"I can't believe this, the first day here and you can't shake those Communist ties trailing us."

"May I remind you that you considered fully joining once upon a time in the not so distant past? We met at such a social function, remember?"

You bit your lip and refused to meet his wide eyes staring a hole into you, for this was very well true.

"I did, but I overcame it. It's ridiculous to devote one's energy to an ideology and not to concrete, practical solutions. I was never devoted and absolutely do not consider myself a member. I never was."

This made Robert scowl, setting his glass down with a clink.

"It is my opinion that you should be free to choose your dogmas, if you want any at all that is. Belief is voluntary, but it shouldn't be a crime; we all deserve our wiggle room."

"Is that what she told you too?"

He licked his lips, stepping close so you were involuntarily arrested by his blue eyes boring into yours and his hand slid up your arm, finding your shoulder and the bra strap peeking out from the neckline of the blouse.

"I see you put one on," he muttered and you blinked, almost forgetting about that little detail and refusing to be seduced by his perceptivity.

"Yes, I did. My breasts are still sore from that uncomfortable car ride."

"It's a shame they are so contained now," he whispered, beginning to undo the buttons on the blouse and push his fingers into the crevice between your breasts, but you weren't quite having it after the unresolved discussion and the way he had been moments before.

"We are going to do this now? After what I just accused? And besides, I thought you were too preoccupied and planning to sit out there half the night smoking away by your lonesome while I go to bed."

"You make nights worth bearing awake, especially tonight." He shifted, groping at your breasts and you stumbled back into the wall, breathing in shallow gasps. He put a finger to his lips conspiratorially and hugged your body with his own, speaking discreetly.

"We should be quiet to not disturb any nearby neighbors."

"They can't hear us and besides, I'm sick of piping down," you whined, remembering the date nights out in the desert where he'd lay out a picnic blanket and fuck you right then and there with the horses grazing several feet away and the canopy of stars winking overhead. You'd make as much noise as merited, probably confusing the yipping coyotes far off in the distance.

"I think we can try to control our auditory impulses for one night," Robert whispered, hands going to your waist and tugging at your skirt.

"The bedroom," you gasped, rushing away from him and down the narrow hallway, twisting around as he chased you with a huff.

"Where is it?" you asked anxiously, opening a couple doors and unfamiliar to this section of the house in the minimal lighting, when he suddenly pushed you from behind into an empty room with a single large king bed.

"Only the best for us," he told you and you fell forwards onto it, kicking your heels off and quickly flipping around to your back as he loosened his tie, casting it off to the floor and unbuttoning his white shirt as you sat up, reaching needily for his belt buckle and he leaned over onto you now shirtless and when he met your lips in a frantic kiss, you then noticed the prudent stench of sweat on his skin that was disrupting his usual familiar smoky flavor mixed with cologne and aftershave.

"Wait," you ordered, pressing a hand up on his collarbone.

"What is it?" he implored worriedly, searching your expression for the solution.

"Bath, you should bathe. It's been a few days and this heat isn't helping. Hasn't anyone told you that you reek like a dog?"

He groaned mournfully, leaning back and unfastening the belt, tossing it to the floor with a clunk of metal.

"You won't let me have you until I do?" he asked sadly, but you had an idea.

"What if I join you?"

His eyes sparked at this notion and you moved off the bed, finding the bathroom across the hall. This house was one of only a few equipped with tubs instead of showers; they didn't call this street "Bathtub Row" for nothing.

Robert finished undressing in front of you, tugging down his trousers and boxers, springing forth an already ready penis.

"You're going to make me work for it tonight, aren't you?" he asked as he stepped into the large basin, turning on the faucet and letting out a gasp when a strong stream of water blasted onto his bare feet.

"J-Jesus Christ, it's freezing!" he exclaimed loudly with a sputter and frantically slamming a hand on the knob as you laughed from your spot by the sink, taking out your earrings and slipping off your small wristwatch.

"Get in, I was warned about the water supply around here possibly being fickle, even for us," he commanded as you finagled your skirt and blouse off with your bra and panties discarded to the bathroom floor before taking a leg over the tub and stepping in to sit down across from him, letting the tub fill up one third of the way as a sitz bath before awkwardly reaching around him to grab the bar of ivory soap from the dish and began to rub into his back with it.

"I should've put in a request for an even larger bath," he complained as you scrunched up your legs against his and scrubbed dutifully into the folds of his skin.

"It'll do fine, darling."

He took the soap and you both took turns lathering each other up, making frothy circles with the creamy soap and rinsing, the water streaming down into the tub again, flooding both yours and his soapy complexion, washing it all off down the drain before having it fill up again, this time three quarters of the way. The water now pleasantly lukewarm, Robert contorted his body to submerge his head under the waterline and he came up with a loud splash, his wiry dark hair flattening to a wet mess on his forehead as your own dampened and you watched the droplets of water collect on his somewhat pallid skin. He scooted closer, entangling legs, and couldn't resist a quick dart of a finger down to your vagina and you whimpered as he touched your clitoris, inserting into you and making you arch your back and buck your hips when he inserted another finger, exploring around your wet velvety walls.

"God, Robert..." you moaned, digging your nails into the grooves of his skin and up to his head, feeling the cropped soaked scalp and neck. He suddenly lightly shoved you against the side of the tub, pressing his mouth to yours and naturally winding his tongue in, kissing you passionately until the water temperature grew too cold and you shivered, glued to his body and burying your face into his wet shoulder.

"That was merely the first act, sweetheart," he whispered and you smiled, leaning back a few inches so he could get up and step out onto the bath mat, taking your hand as he did so to pull you up and guide you out. Robert grabbed a large towel from the rack and wound it around the both of you, letting his genitals press up against yours and you both stood there for a while, listening to the steady drip-drop-drip-drop-drip-drop of falling water to the flooring.

"I'm surprised you've held off this long," you murmured, feeling his rising erection in between your thighs.

"I truly can't wait any longer," he admitted urgently and the towel dropped with a flump to the floor, and with bodies still slick with water, you and him exited the bathroom to fumble to the bedroom and the blue light from the window illuminated the sheets, the ideal love making spot. He let you collapse on your back and easily came down on top, gripping the back of your neck and already plunging in to align, but you squirmed in dissatisfaction.

"So soon?" you whined, wanting to play with and taste him first, but he was antsy to get to the pinnacle.

"Your virtuous patience should be framed and put on the walls of this house, along with your divine beauty," he whispered, head moving down to your breasts and you dug your fingers into his bare back, running along the bones of his more pronounced spine.

"C'mon, Oppie, let's do this the fun way... Give it to me," you begged and he cringed slightly, but rolled over onto his side and you immediately found his stiff penis with your hands, clenching around it firmly and stroking. He moaned softly and it flexed in your grasp... He could be a decent size when engaged, which was impressive for his underweight body.

"But don't you dare let me go without seeding you inside," he warned as though you had all the control.

"That's the plan."

Wordlessly, you positioned yourself down to the head of his cock and licked off his pre-cum, the recognizable taste milky on your tongue and you sucked, bringing it halfway in and fondling his balls lovingly in the meantime. He was breathing heavily and you didn't linger long at his member however because you could tell he was getting very close and neither you nor him wanted him to release anywhere other than the intended internal target. Pulling out and licking your lips, you repositioned your body on top of his and sank down flat to his chest, and he thrusted his hips up to meet you, heaving in with a grunt. You winced at the initial entry; you were always so sensitive down there (especially since the miscarriage), and he steadily kept at it, probing in further without being too rough.

"Fuck..." you breathed with a cry and he came forward to smooch your cheek as you mounted your hands on his shoulders and he pumped in and out, shaking the entire bed.

"That's exactly what I'm doing, my love," he breathed, keeping an intense gaze trained on you.

"Robert..." you groaned, letting him push as far as he could go until the pleasure was overloading and you felt his hot wet spurt of cum hit, eliciting a long moan from him, his slender frame shuddering beneath you. He closed his eyes and you kept a firm clench around his shaft, not ready to have him pull out yet. Gasping, you began rocking back and forth with ecstasy, your insides stretched to their limit and he seemed to know you were struggling to hold him.

"I'm coming out," he muttered and gently pulled back wetly so he wasn't balls deep in you anymore and then you repositioned to lightly ride him, which was your favorite position, and you bounced up and down on his upright full cock, orgasming a few more times as he watched your euphoria in rapture, so proud he alone could make you like this over and over until you were out of air and exhausted, collapsing to the side of the bed and feeling the sheets very damp with bodily juices.

Robert spooned you from behind, arms draped over to dangle his fingers on your swollen nipples and you matched his breathing in rhythm. Every time was somehow better than the last... Sex with him was as natural as breathing and you appreciated the consistent chemistry that you worried would have faded after a couple years of marriage due to what you'd heard about stress and boredom destroying a couple's sex drive, but Robert was not a boring person in the least sense of the term.

"We should do this every night," you offered hopefully and he chuckled.

"And make me the most lucky, tired man in this whole community? I'd be up for that, although it'll be a wonder if I get any work done at all when I've got this memory lingering with me tomorrow," he replied and you heard the smile in his tone, but with it came the bitter resurgence of the likely phone call from another woman that was bile in the back of your throat and even though he supposedly broke it off with her before you got married, you knew he had stayed in contact and you couldn't help but wonder how he fucked her and if it was comparable to what you and him had with each other, since she seemed to want him so badly. That wasn't to mention "Kitty" who he had insisted on still being "friends" with. A bit depressed and irritated, you pushed away his hands off your breasts and turned back over to face him in the dimness that made even those prominent blue colored eyes of his too muddled to see into.

"How did you become the most desired physicist to women in the whole country?" you asked softly.

"Good genes?" he guessed in amusement and you shook your head, not requiring a punchline.

"You're known to be a womanizer, neurotic, eccentric, a tad arrogant, and yet everybody seems to want you, including me as your own wife. Tell me, why did the universe give you such magnetized gifts?"

He gave a subtle lift of his shoulders with a small lazy smile as you laid your head on the pillow, fending off fatigue.

"Why was Aphrodite the one chosen to be blessed with such beauty and fertility? Why are we the way that we are? There are some matters of the human being to be unfounded in the definitive and everything is relative." He sat up with his back against the headboard and proceeded to light another cigarette and you sleepily watched the hazy smoke drift off above the bed towards the ceiling. He sighed, setting it to rest in the ashtray on the nightstand and wrap his lean arm around your body, drawing you close into his side.

"You are my goddess, Y/N. You are the only woman I want to return home too, always. Don't you know that?" he murmured into your hair and you vaguely nodded.

"I do, but I also know you're not always the most faithful man."

He lifted his hand and touched his ring finger to yours, matching the simple gold bands you both shared as two united.

"I married you out of good faith and the vows we pledged might have well been written in stone in the language of the gods along on the pulmonary arteries flowing as though a river into my heart," he told you with no trace of doubt, but you knew the whole story that didn't need flourishing.

"Only because the two other women fell through on commitment - although tonight I suspect they both presumably still want you - and one was already hitched, so she was having an affair by being with you and wouldn't divorce unless you happened to get her pregnant. I just happened to be the most available, the convenient bride with no attached strings, even though everyone said it was abnormally soon and I am too young," you recounted bitterly and he frowned, tilting your chin upward.

"Is that how you see it? I have never fallen for someone as fast and as hard as I did for you. I still feel the way I did when I laid a glimpse on you at Mary Ellen Washburn's party."

You smiled despite yourself and he bent to kiss the top of your head as you snuggled into his chest, absentmindedly fondling his moist cock with your fingers.

"I do love you beyond comprehension, Y/N," he whispered and you glanced up, meeting his look.

"I do too and I want to believe I always will, until the end of our existence. I am not those other women and I do not want to become so."

A solemn seriousness grew over him and he closed his eyes as you felt tears suddenly spike and an unexplainable terrible sense of dread came over you.

"Promise me one thing, Robert." You paused, taking a deep breath.

"Promise me that whatever happens to us in this world, in this setting, that you will always find a way home and whatever we face, we face together."

He gave a single nod, but you sensed reluctance in the way a muscle in his jaw made a minor spasm.

"I will always do my best."

"Alright," you resigned and he sighed, relaxing back and settling down into the sheets, further roping his arms around you and you burrowed your face into his chest, feeling his light hair follicles tickle your forehead. Tomorrow - and the future for that matter - was uncertain, but at least tonight was building up to a promise of solid sureness, a safeness, bonding those atoms of love again.

Love, or the feeling of it, was a lot like quantum mechanics; essentially invisible to the naked eye and complicated, but the one difference was that it was unmeasurable. No amount of numbers or equations could add up the real affection you felt for your husband, even when the waters became too choppy to be comfortable and it was far from perfect. You just had to cement the fact that you were Mrs. Oppenheimer and that wasn't going to change anytime soon, any disruptive external factors be absolutely damned to hell.

Thanks for reading, expect a little drama for chapter 2... And I do not have a full outline to every part of this fic, so please be patient as I find spare time to work on it and upload. I always appreciate any likes, reblogs, and feedback ❤️

*If anyone would be interested in being tagged, drop a comment and I'll make a tag list for the next part!*

[fluentmoviequoter]

A League Christmas

Day 11 of 12 Days of Ficmas

Pairing: Dick Grayson x fem!reader

Summary: A Justice League Christmas party overwhelms you, so you sneak off to find a quiet place. Dick finds you and keeps you company.

Word Count: 1.5k+ words

Warnings: fluff, brief discussions of insecurity and anxiety, brotherly Jason Todd slander, Hal Jordan (he's a warning by himself) and a GLTAS reference.

A/N: I didn't specify which Dick Grayson this is, so feel free to pick your favorite! I just like Young Justice's Nightwing suit. Also, I love Hal and Razer in GLTAS if anyone is curious. Friendly reminder that I write for several DC characters in this fic, if you'd like to request something with them (request rules & character list)! :)

The first annual Justice League Christmas Gala. Wonder Woman’s idea meets Batman’s money.

Your apprehension about attending has only increased since you got the invitation a week and a half before the gala. The mix of insecurity, fear, and knowing that you’ll be overwhelmed causes you to question whether or not you should RSVP.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Are you going to the gala?” Nightwing asks, landing beside you.

“I don’t know. Probably not? It’s not like a party of that size will miss one no-name vigilante,” you answer, not looking at him.

“You’re kidding, right? You have to go; who else will keep me sane?”

You glance at him before saying, “One less mouth to feed. I’m doing it for Bruce.”

Nightwing stays quiet, walking beside you until you reach the end of the alley.

“What if we go together? If I’m your date you won’t have to deal with any of it alone. I’ll be stuck by your side the entire time,” he offers.

“I- that would be nice,” you answer quietly, hopeful that being beside him will improve the night.

“Then it’s a date,” Nightwing says, his usual energy back as he jumps onto a dumpster. Extending a hand down to you, he adds, “Now, let’s find Harley, she owes me 20 bucks.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“Alfred!” Dick calls as he enters the Batcave, pulling his mask off.

“Yes, Master Grayson? Another injury?” Alfred replies.

“No, of course not, I’m not Jason,” Dick answers.

“Heard that!” Jason yells from somewhere.

Dick shrugs as he smiles at Alfred. “I need you to do something for me at the gala.”

“Anything, Master Grayson.”

✯✯✯✯✯

Stephanie and Cass invited you to go shopping for the gala and found what they (and you) deemed ‘the perfect look.’ It is a combination of your suit colors and Nightwing’s. You feel good in the dress but still wonder if you made the right decision by agreeing to go.

When you enter the venue, you hear a sharp whistle and turn to see Dick Grayson walking toward you. His suit is a deep blue, with elements of the bright Nightwing blue you’ve grown to love. A domino mask covers his eyes and cheekbones, but you still know how beautiful he is.

“You look amazing,” you tell him.

“Seriously? You look like a princess,” he gushes, running a finger over the fabric of your outfit. “You look really good in blue; better than me, maybe.”

“I don’t think that’s possible,” you argue, laughing as he brushes a piece of hair away from your mask.

“You ready?” he asks, offering his arm.

You loop your arm through his elbow, and he lays his other hand on your arm.

“You’ll do amazing,” he whispers as you approach the top of the stairs.

“Mr. Red Hood and Artemis Grace of Bana-Mighdall,” Alfred announces.

“Mr. Red Hood?” you ask, looking at Dick. “That makes you…”

“Mr. Nightwing, yep. Bruce doesn’t seem to care that everyone here already knows who we are.”

Alfred says your name first, flipping the expected script. You look at Dick and smile brightly, whispering your gratitude for making you laugh. When you reach the bottom of the stairs, you nod at Alfred and he sends you a quick, encouraging wink before reading the next set of names.

Your arm stays looped through Dick’s as you make the rounds, saying hello to the heroes you know and introducing yourself to those you don’t. Dick was serious when he said he’d be by your side the whole time. Even when you go to get drinks, his hand stays on your lower back as he orders for you.

“Nightwing? A word?” Superman asks, smiling as he looks over at you.

Dick’s face drops toward yours, and though you can’t see his dark eyes looking at you, you know what he’s asking.

“Go ahead,” you say with a nod. “I’ll be around when you’re done.”

He nods once, gripping your hand before he leaves with Superman. You accept the drink and walk to a secluded area, taking a seat and a deep breath.

“Hey,” someone says. “This seat taken?”

You’re prepared to lie to avoid a conversation, but when you see who it is you smile and say, “No, help yourself.”

✯✯✯✯✯

Dick’s eyes stray to you as he listens to Superman and answers his questions, nodding and laughing when needed. He sees someone approach the table and hopes that they don’t ask to sit down. When you smile and gesture to the seat, the man turns and Dick releases a sigh, turning his attention back to Superman.

✯✯✯✯✯

“And then Razer said, ‘Do you share my opinion that the sweet embrace of death would be welcome today?’” Green Lantern Hal Jordan finishes, laughing alongside you. “Hate to leave so soon, but thanks for the company,” he adds before standing to visit the other Green Lanterns, who were fashionably late (courtesy of Kyle Rayner, no doubt).

After he leaves, and you’re alone as your anxiety begins to grow as the music, the overlapping conversations, and the extravagant gown overwhelm your senses. Abandoning your seat, you back toward the door, smiling at Diana as she passes, before turning and leaving.

✯✯✯✯✯

Dick hasn’t checked on you since Hal sat down, but he feels a sudden urge to look over. When he sees you backing toward the door, he knows something is off.

“Sorry, Supes, but I need to go,” he interrupts.

Superman looks over his shoulder and smiles. “Take your time.”

Dick nods and rushes through the ballroom, following you up into a small sitting room with large windows. He closes the door, muffling the sounds of the party. You sigh as the quietness washes over you. Turning to him, you begin apologizing.

“I didn’t mean to ditch you, I just got overwhelmed, and…”

“Hey,” Dick interrupts, grabbing your hand and leading you to the couch.

He sits first, then pulls you down beside him, letting you lean against his side while he intertwines your fingers.

“Don’t apologize for leaving a situation that made you uncomfortable. Is that all that’s bothering you?”

“Yes. I just- it was a lot,” you answer.

“I get it. We can stay here as long as you want, or we can really ditch and go get ice cream or hot chocolate or something,” Dick offers, rubbing his free hand up and down your spine.

There is a small clicking sound just before the lawn outside the window is illuminated with thousands of Christmas lights. You stand quickly, pulling Dick to the window with you, looking at all of the decorations and the intricate light display.

Unbeknownst to you, Alfred looks up into the window and smiles when he sees you standing so close to Dick. “A Christmas miracle,” he mutters before returning to the gala.

“I’d say this is a pretty good first date, all things considered,” Dick says, wrapping his arms around you from behind.

You pull your hand from his and turn in his arms to ask, “This was a date?”

“Of course it was.” He rushes to add, “Unless you don’t want it to be.”

“No, I do,” you answer quickly. “I just thought you offered to go with me because I was nervous.”

Dick brushes his fingers against the bottom of your mask as he says, “I wanted to go with you because you’re the best part of my life.”

“Take it off,” you whisper.

Dick smiles as he pulls the mask away from your face, freezing as his eyes look into yours. He drops your mask on a nearby table, keeping his head turned away as he peels his own off and drops it beside yours.

“It’s been a while, Mr. Grayson,” you tease, looking into his eyes.

“Too long,” Dick agrees, running a knuckle along your cheekbone. “You really are the best part of me.”

“You’re the best part of me,” you parrot, pushing your hands under the lapel of his suit blazer to rest on his chest.

Dick smiles, opening his hand so his warm, calloused palm rests against your cheek. He tilts his head to kiss you, his lips moving slowly against yours in the best slow dance you’ve ever experienced. You lean against him as you follow his movements, more than happy to let him lead.

“Thanks for being my date,” you whisper as he pulls back.

“I got the good end of this deal,” he replies.

The door opens suddenly, and Dick pulls you against his chest, keeping his face to the window as he asks who it is.

“You know the masks are supposed to stay on for this reason, right?” Bruce asks.

“Then why are you using your real voice?” you respond playfully.

“Besides, I can’t kiss her in the mask,” Dick adds, turning to face Bruce.

“Your mask only covers your eyes,” Bruce argues.

“But his eyes are pretty,” you say, smiling.

“I just came to tell you that you can leave if you want to,” Bruce explains, smiling at you. “I’m glad you both came, though.”

He closes the door behind him as Dick looks at you, the Christmas lights reflecting in his eyes as he pulls you closer.

“Me too,” you both say together.

[montimer]

Joker x reader

Reader works at a store

gn!reader, could be any joker ig

Summary: the store is getting robbed by the joker but as tired as you are, you just give the money to him. (Based on the ep 'jokers millions' cuz he needs cash)

____________________________

It was pretty late. A few customers were walking around the store. You just quietly stood behind the register, waiting for your shift to end.

And that is when you heard a gunshot, then glass breaking. Two tall man entered the store, they had clown make up on and wore black clothing.

They didn't move, not until another men came in. He was in purple, wearing a hat, making half of his face covered in a shadow. "Alright boys, lets make this quick" he snapped his fingers ordering them.

He then looked around and his eyes landed on you. Or atleast that two dots that were seeable.

You felt so tired, stressed and exhausted, you just waited for something to happen.

He made his way towards you in fast steps. Only when he got closer did you realize that the man infront of you was no other than The Joker himself.

You noticed his flower and that smile you recognize on posters.

He raised his gun at you demanding money. You just nodded at him as you opened the register. "Okay okay, lower that thing man"

You handed him the cash that was in there, about...50 bucks. He almost looked surprised. Maybe cuz you actually listened with out crying for your life. Or maybe cuz you seemed unimpressed? Well it is gotham after all.

Not that you weren't afraid at the moment.

"Ah..good choice. You're a smart one"

He put his gun and the money in his pocket. He looked back up at you.

"Happen to know the code for the safe?"

You giggled at him. He made a surprised face once again, you had to hold back from laughing.

"Ya really think this poor store has a safe? Only the boss has more money on him. And he went home like two hours ago. Sorry"

"Huh, he left?!"

"Yeah..he always does that. He leaves the store for us to close. About that..my shift ends in 20 minutes and i don't wanna deal with that" you point at the broken windows.

He looks back at you.

"Aren't you afraid?"

"Well its not my fault that its broken-"

"No, i mean. Aren't you afraid of me? I mean do you even know who ya talking to?"

"The charming prince of crime. The Joker, yeah yeah i know.. i heard about you"

The word charming made him smile.

"You know what sweets, i like ya! You aren't like the others. Oh and by the way. The gun wasn't loaded"

You blink in surprise and he just laughed.

"Low on bullets that is.. but you're very cooperative. I like that." He put his hands up picturing you.

"Well gotta fly before batboy and birdie comes looking for me. Wish i could steal more of your time."

You look at your clock. Your shift has ended. Plus you survived an encounter with a villain. But at what cost.

"Heres my card. Er, and your name sweet?"

"..Y/n..Y/n L/n.."

"I'll keep that in my memory"

He petted your head, he then waved and whistled for his hench men. They left the store running as you tried to keep yourself together.

'Maybe i should have gave him a fake name, would he have been mad then?' You took a look at the card he gave you. It was a normal poker card. A joker card.

'Mmm. Im just gonna go home and deal with this later'

Little did you know you just made this crazy clown interested in you.

[bullet-clubs-bitch]

If It's wrong I don't wanna be right

Cash Wheeler X Fem reader

Summary: What happens when the bucks younger sister finally caves and gets with one of her brothers biggest rivals. 

Prompt  60 “Please? I’ll be good I promise!”

Warnings: SMUT, use of smoking, alcohol, swearing

Word count:  2218

Main Masterlist Cash Wheeler Masterlist

Cash’s POV

I knew this was wrong but I didn’t care. I had waited years for this moment, no way I was going to let it slip between my fingers. This little obsession started four years ago. I met Y/n at a wrestling event and instantly fell in love. She was the most gorgeous person I had ever seen. Dax and I were thinking of signing with AEW when I met Y/n. She introduced herself and told us all about what AEW had to offer us. I was instantly sold, I knew I needed to get to know her, spend all of my time with her. I would have asked her out right then and there but the ring on her finger told me otherwise.  

Even though she was taken I figured a little crush wouldn't hurt anyone. As I got to know her I learnt that she was engaged and I was shocked to find out that she was the younger sister of Matt and Nick Jackson. Y/n was the polar opposite of her brothers, they were straight edge, she was a party girl. The bucks were good christian boys but Y/n haven't been to church in years. The more I learnt about her the deeper I fell in love. I picked up on her habits and the two of us would often share drinks after shows. 

Then one day everything changed when the rivalry between FTR and The Young Bucks became real. I was quite angry when the bucks beat us for our tag titles but was even more angry when Y/n and I stopped hanging out. My anger continued to grow over the years. In a way I was praying for the downfall of her fiance. I wasn’t stupid I knew she was only with the older man for the money he had to offer. Y/n didn’t wrestle anymore and served as trainer backstage and writer for the show. I knew the job paid well but not good enough for a Birkin bag. 

It made me sick everytime I saw them together. I could love her better than he could. Heck I knew she didn't really love him either. Dax informed me that this crush had turned into an obsession and he was right. Yet, I kept my feelings a secret for three years, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. 

*****

All Out London

I felt like I had been tossing and turning for hours. I couldn't seem to fall asleep. The nerves of the big show kept me awake. I looked at the clock and it read 4:23 AM, too early to start the day but I couldn't stare at the ceiling in my hotel room any longer. I threw on a sweater and headed down to the lobby, hoping the fresh air would help in any form. Just like I suspected the lobby was empty, the drunks had cleared and the morning birds were yet to arrive. I stepped outside to the large balcony on the main floor and was shocked to find Y/n. 

“Can’t sleep?” I asked as I approached her. 

“Nope, you?” She responded

“Nah. I didn’t know you smoked?” I asked Y/n as I watched her place the half gone cigarette between her lips, breathing out the smoke into the gloomy darkness. 

“If my brothers ask, I stopped smoking 10 years ago. It helps me sleep” She said before bringing the cigarette back up to her lips. 

“I think it’s so funny how different you are compared to your brothers” I told Y/n fascinated 

“We are polar opposites. They haven’t had a drink in their lives while I have been drinking since I was 15. Not to mention you know about my little smoking secret.” 

I said nothing, wanting her to continue. “I started smoking when I was 16, I was the trouble maker obviously. I got away with it too and actually technically did quit when I was 20. I only smoke sometimes now. Mostly when I am stressed or I can't sleep”

 “Well, your secret is safe with me.” I told her honestly. In a weird twisted way I was more attracted to her now than before. She stood in front of me with baggy sweatpants and a hoodie that was two sizes too big. She wore no makeup, hair in a messy bun with glasses I have only seen her wear a few times before. She smelt like vanilla and tobacco, her green eyes stared back at me, a mix of exhaustion and desire. 

“If you weren't a sworn enemy of my brothers I would probably have you in my hotel room right now” I choked at the words that left her lips. I could feel my cheeks heat up and get a bit hard with her words. I knew that Y/n was now single but as the time passed the FTR and Bucks rivalry became so intense that it would never work between us. It would be like getting with the enemy. 

I didn’t even know what to say. Y/n left me speechless. I watched as she put out her cigarette and took a step towards me. We were chest to chest, I could smell the smoke on her breath. She didn’t even say anything, she just gave me a look that told me all I needed to know. She wanted me and I wanted her back, I had for years. 

“We really shouldn't be doing this Y/n” The words fell out in a whisper. I was internally punching myself at my choice of words. I knew it was wrong but I needed this.  

“I know baby” Y/n said as she cupped my face and whispered in my ear. “But as you can tell I don’t like following the rules. This is wrong but, don’t they say two wrongs make a right? Me and you can make that right.” I could feel myself getting harder as she continued to speak. “I know you want me, I’ve always known Cash. I’m not stupid. I can feel how bad you want me too” Y/n said in a seductive tone as she palmed my clothed erection. 

I knew this was going to be the only chance I would get so I jumped on it and without hesitation accepted the invite to Y/n’s hotel room. 

****

Everything happened so fast, one second we were in the elevator, the next we were ripping each other's clothes off. Y/n left a trail of kisses from my lips to my navel. Kneeling before me like she was about to say a prayer. I could have came right then and there, but I needed to be inside her. I watched as she placed delicate kisses from the tip of my dick all the way to the base before taking me whole in her mouth in one shot. I let out a loud moan at the feeling. After a moment she started to bob her head around my cock. I was lost in pleasure, I could feel precum starting to spill and my orgasm soon approaching. 

It took all of my strength to get her to stop, she almost looked offended. But I knew I needed to cum inside her. I pushed Y/n on the bed and got on top of her. Spreading her legs ever so gently I pushed into her slowly, wanting to savor the moment. As soon as I was balls deep I took no time and started ramming into her as fast as I could. I took one of her breasts in my mouth, sucking the flesh before switching to the other. 

Y/N’s POV

There was something about this that felt so surreal. Never in a million years would I have thought that I would have Cash Wheeler in my hotel room, not to mention the fact that in a few hours he would be going to war with my brothers. None of that mattered though, I was focused on chasing this high. 

Cash was bigger than I expected, he fit me perfectly, stretching me out beautifully, making me feel things I haven’t felt in a long time. I could feel he was close, so close. It didn’t matter how hard he tried to hold it, I was determined to make him cum first. I managed to pull him off of me, saying nothing as I looked into his eyes and saw something I never thought I would see, fear. 

Cash’s POV

When Y/n pulled me off of her that was when the reality set in. “Did I hurt you?” I asked, as my eyes scanned over her body, looking for non existent injuries. No response, “Did I do something wrong?” I asked again as I leaned down, placing a delicate kiss on her collarbone. Still nothing. 

She then placed her hands on my chest, drawing shapes on my skin before she pushed me on the bed so she was on top of me. Just before as I was about to speak she cut me off “Shhhh, relax darling you didn’t do anything wrong. I was the one who invited you into my home so I’m in charge” she said as she placed her hands gently on my still hard cock, giving it a rather hard squeeze, before placing kisses once again on my shaft. She then sunk down on me, slowly, it was torturous. Once she bottomed out she stopped for a moment before she started to bounce slowly on my cock. My hands found her hips as I guided her down on me, it took me everything in me not to trust up into her, she must have read my mind as she said “Don’t even think about it” 

She then began to pick up her pace, slamming down on me as hard as she could, our mixed moans sounded like music to my ears. “I can feel your close” Y/n said as she continued to fuck herself on me “Not yet” I told her, still wanting to make her cum first. Just then she stopped completely. “Fuck” I called out, “Please” I begged her. She just gave me a look “Please? I’ll be good I promise!” I cried out, not even recognizing my own voice, that was filled with desperation. “You know what on second thought maybe you’re right. I’m changing my mind, I can have some fun with this, you don’t cum until I say you can, do you understand?” “Yes ma'am” I replied 

Y/n remained still, rubbing her clit as she began to chase her own orgasm, I could feel her squeezing me as she continued to rub violent circles on the swollen bud. Everything was getting too much, I felt like I would die if I didn’t cum right there in then. My hands gripped the sheets, head thrown back into the pillows as she began to slowly bounce on my cock once more. I could feel her get closer and closer as she increased her speed, her hands on my chest as she rode me beautifully. She grabbed one of my hands, placing it on her clit, indicating me to grant her that extra sensation needed for her release. “You’re doing so good baby, almost there” 

She said praising me, I could feel her pussy start to spasm around my cock and I knew I couldn't hold off any longer. “Cum, inside me” that was all I needed to hear as I let go, my orgasm washing over me. Y/n came right after, fucking us both through our hard orgasms. 

It didn’t take long before she collapsed on my chest, the two of us trying to catch our breath, coming down from our hard orgasms. I don’t ever think I had cum so hard in my life. 

We stayed like that for a while, laying in a comfortable silence. I was first to break the silence “What the fuck was that” I said, laughing a bit. “I don’t fucking know” she responded slowley getting off of me, as I noticed the mess we made. “I don’t think you understand how much I needed that” Y/n said, burying her face into a pillow. 

“Not as much as I did” I responded, before I got up to grab a towel to clean us both up.

I knelt carefully between her legs as I cleaned the mixture of our juices. “You know, If I wasn’t so sensitive and exhausted I would have asked you to eat me out right now” She said, looking at me between her thighs. I could feel myself blush at the comment. 

I looked at the clock and it read 5:30 am. Without even thinking about it I went to grab my clothing that was thrown in different parts of the room. “Don’t tell me you're leaving already Cash” Y/n called out in a sad tone. “We don’t need to be at the arena until noon, stay, get some rest, you have a big match coming up and plus you look like shit” she said jokingly “Have you looked at yourself?” I looked like a hot mess. 

I decided to join Y/n in bed, for the few hrs of sleep, that would end up being the best sleep of my life. 

I didn't know what would happen after today but I knew something. No matter what would happen in a few hours I would fight. I would fight for us. Nothing would ever be the same after what happened, in good ways and bad but I knew this would be something worth fighting for.

[doberbutts]

Facebook marketplace adventures that are Interesting Enough For The Internet:

The tag sale where I filled my basket with probably 50 dollars worth of items and once I got to the Dude With The Money he was like "meh it's about to rain and I don't feel like hauling this shit inside, take it for free", which gave me a large amount of the kitchen stuff I now have

Free PS5 in which I gave him my gamecube and ps2 and my leftover games I haven't touched in years (decades?)- only caveat was I had to go into his basement at his house in order to perform the transaction

Roasting pans and cookie sheets for 5 dollars total from a trans woman who asked to meet in the public place of her choosing. Said public place was the parking lot of an abandoned Bed Bath and Beyond

New! Lawnmower for 20 bucks from a very handsome silver fox Japanese man who just sold his million dollar house we met at. He then asked me to give him a ride to where he and his neighbors usually walk a 5k around their neighborhood every day. And then when I dropped him off asked if I'd like to join them and "have a conversation". Alas I said no and didn't give him my number because he said he was married to a woman but if he'd made any sort of hint at being single or into guys I just might have had a different answer. Pretty sure he was hinting at swinging. (asking for the future: how do you tell the guy inviting you to swing that you're vastly more interested in him than his wife)

New! Woman who just sold her house whose tupperware (5 bucks! For what's probably over a hundred dollars brand new!) I was buying who just kept giving me more things in the box I already bought, who DID give me her number with the expectation that I would text her at some point (I haven't) (sorry lady you're barking up the wrong tree) (I'm sure straight guys think you're pretty tho)

[napoleonic-sexyman-tournament]

Anti-propaganda for Emma, Lady of Hamilton.

Girly was a horrible, vile person in every sense of the word, she died unloved, poor, unhealthy, alone and in huge debt and I cannot even feel a shread of pity for her considering how she was a massive homewrecker to Nelson's marriage and golddigger.

When she got pregnant for the first time with her daughter Emma, she was told by Greville, her lover (although a lighter term for "pimp" would be more appropriate in this case) to foster her kid because he didn't feel like doing so which she did with little resistance/negotiation and hesitance (I understand girly wanted money at that time but what kind of mother is that?) and frop what I could gather, she never had a real relationship with her daughter, prioritising money instead.

When she got too expensive for Greville, he sent her off to his newly widowed uncle from a happy marriage of 20 years

She stole Nelson from his wife, Fanny, and was the reason why he acted cruely towards her. Once Fanny gave Nelson an ultimatum to choose between her and his mistress, he left her to be with Hamilton, even scandalousely purshasing for her 2 estates, one to decorate in his glory the other one so they could live together with Hamilton's husband, disassociating himself completely from Fanny to the extent of returning her letters unopened.

When the media picked up on Nelson's cazy threesome she went out of her way to portray poor Fanny as a villain and her husband, whom, although she stays she actually loved and cared for, really just stayed with him for finincial security was getting constantly clowned on by the British media when in reality he was just a man torn by the death of his wife which he lived 20 happy years together and thought of replacing the void in his life by marrying Europe's most popular mistress at the time. Her "adventures" were consistently in the media for Fanny to see, homegirl had the moral courage to not astray herself from her husband and stayed devoted to him right up his death.

Hamilton did actually have feelings for Nelson, and grieved him deeply when he died, but I'm ready to argue that she had a stronger penchant for his rising popularity and wallet instead, considering how she turned down multiple marriage proposals from rich men when her husband died and Nelson was at sea, as she believe Nelson would come out as ultimately richer than all of them combined, and convinced Nelson to include her and the 2 kids she bore by him in his will, but then Nelson died at Trafalgar and her huband dies from (illness?) that's when karma finally catches up to her.

It turns out Nelson died before changing his will. For the rest of her life, Hamilton would take this case to court but was never successful, she was also excluded from Nelson's funeral (which I glad she wasn't allowed in. Can you imagine being Fanny sitting at your husband, the man who have stayed devoted to for almost 20 years, grieving, then you turn around only to see the girl who demonized you in the media and destroyed your marriage crying harder?) Now that Hamilton was irrelevant, no one would show up to the parties she hosted, and instead of being wise and choosing to go back to her hometown with the money she had accumulated in her career as a coutesan, she instead decided to continue her project of furnishing the home dedicated to Nelson's glory, (she believed this could make her money, but can't remember the reasoning, though) racking up massive debts, causing her to be even more depressed and resolving herself to binging and drinking while taking she was taking care of her daughter (an alcoholic parent? That's a big nono).

She tried to keep her relevancy and make a quick buck by publishing all the letters she had exchanged with Nelson when he was at sea, but her plan backfired horribly, the media has now turned against her, not only that, but the book destroyed any popularity she had left, and left her in even bigger debt. And even tough the book she had published indicate in all directions that she indeed had 2 kids by Nelson, she denied it until her death, and treated her daughter horribly. Her daughter eventually disassociates from her aswell, and denies ever being Hamilton's daughter (good for her).

Hamilton eventually tries to flee her debtors, which she successfully did, but died shortly after, as I have said, unloved, unloved, poor, unhealthy, alone and in huge debt. I say she got what she deserved.

Sorry for the massive holes in this story and typos/grammatical errors, I didn't have time to write this properly, maybe, if time allows, I'll submit a proper anti-propaganda in the future.

Anyways, in conclusion, don't vote for her, she was a horrible person and rotten to the core.

Thank you.

.

[queerdiazs]

some of my personal fav eddie hcs 🫶🏼

he's the oldest cousin and only boy so he doesn't know what it's like to have any older siblings, but when he met hen and chimney, he felt for the first time what it was like to be taken care of as a younger brother and he's never ever going to take it for granted

it took him a while to grieve his wife, but eventually he brings shannon's things out of storage and puts them out all over the house. sometimes it hurts, but it's all worth it when he gets to answer his son's questions about where the eccentric iron armadillo came from

when shannon found out she was pregnant, she told eddie and they decided to run away. it was fun while it lasted, but eventually they ran out of money and had to return home. he'll forever treasure those few weeks they had together; it was their happiest time.

shannon loved music, so when he's missing her he'll put on the songs she liked and dance all over the house with christopher

he LOVES watching movies at the theater and often goes alone in the mornings after he drops chris off at school. he stops at the dollar store first and get snacks and puts them in his boots to sneak them in

he's queer (it's easier than explaining the complexities of being bi and on the ace spectrum) and he's known since he was 20 years old. it wasn't a sudden realization; it hit him slowly, like snow falling one by one. he's comfortable in his queerness and he has support from his family.

he wore his wedding ring even after shannon died. he lost it, though, and he went to a pawn shop to buy another one, and then buried it next to her grave when he finally felt ready to let her go

what sold him on the 118 after graduating the academy was how hard bobby fought for him without even knowing him. he didn't have to prove himself. it was nice.

he doesn't want anymore children. he didn't even want christopher, honestly, but it takes two to tango and shannon was excited and he was, too, even though it took him a while to wrap his head around the idea of being a dad.

bobby and buck are his emergency contacts.

he used to wear his abuelo's boots because the man was a real-life cowboy and eddie wanted to grow up to be just like him

he used to love thunderstorms but after buck's accident he doesn't like them much anymore + listens to music when it's late and the thunder's too loud

he has his childhood dog's name tattooed on his leg

his favorite flower is magnolias. he likes dark chocolate covered strawberries and buys two dozen for himself every valentine's day. he brews his own sweet tea. he leaves his tomatoes on the windowsill to sun and ripen further.

bobby's like a dad to him, the kind he deserved

he had a little crush on linda when he was at dispatch (and buck LOVED it)

he loves buck, like that, but his heart's big enough for more than buck buckley and he's enjoyed every relationship he's had that led him and buck to one another

when buck proposes and they start planning their wedding, he turns into bridezilla. groomzilla?

he is a sassy dude. his mouth gets him in trouble sometimes, but he says stuff so dryly and blandly people look over it. it drives chim up the wall.

he dances with maddie at her and chim's wedding, and jee-yun, too, who stands on his shoes

he tries really hard to be normal when christopher starts dating, but it's hard when it's the kid of abbie jean gentry, pta president and eddie's sworn enemy

he visits shannon's grave often and talks with her. she's dead but he isn't gone, not when he can see her in their son's smile and hear her in their son's laughter, and he likes to tell her what chris is up to even though he's pretty sure she's watching

he loves cartoons. LOVES them, i'm so serious. i can't stress enough how INTO cartoons he is, okay.

buck said kissed him first and decided they were going on a date. eddie went batshit, didn't go to the date because he was making a list of all the reasons why he and buck shouldn't be together, and buck finds him in his kitchen and he's pissy, and eddie shows him in the list, and on it there's 'buck keeps his loft on 68. cold.' and 'buck uses too much onion powder' and 'buck doesn't wear socks to bed and he sticks his cold feet on me' and buck just laughs and laughs and laughs because they're terrible for each other, kinda, but that's what makes them perfect for each other, too. losers.

his favorite color is green and when apple came out with a green iphone he was so excited he squealed

he's a fan of country music. not that new age, jason aldean, toby keith did to country music what pantyhose did to fingerfucking type shit, but the real country music, full of outlaws and rebels and rednecks. it's one of his roman empires.

his favorite movies are twister, titanic, without a paddle, dirty dancing, and dazed and confused

patrick swayze in roadhouse was his Awakening

he enjoys sex, even with the people he had one night stands with, and doesn't care whether he tops or bottoms because it feels good regardless. he does tend to lean toward the (soft) dominant side of things, which his partners respond to beautifully

he was born 31 october 1991

he was held back a grade in middle school to give him another year of eligibility of playing baseball in high school

he was a member of ffa, held office as sentinel all throughout high school, and supports the organization still. chris is in 4h, but the high school he wants to go to has an active ffa program and eddie's really excited about it

he's soft and so full of love he doesn't know what to do with it sometimes. it just spills out of him, splashing at his feet and flooding everybody around him. he doesn't hold it in anymore because he likes the way people respond to him when they realize he's sharing his love, all smiles and acceptance and unconditional love in response

[loveydoveylex]

10, 16 and 20 for the end of the year asks !! :]]

hiii buck, thank you for the ask! hope you've had a nice week ^v^

10: have you bought any merch of your F/O or other items that remind you of them this year?

I have!!! my plushie, my lil goth rayman figure who I got from a kind friend of mine who didn't want him anymore, and I'm waiting on my youtooz figure to arrive! 💖 was hoping to also get a couple more things, but right now I need to calm down with spending a ton of money at once, so it'll have to wait until next year 😅

16: did you pick up a new piece of media because of an F/O this year?

nope! only have one f/o, and... yeah, I was already very invested in the rayman franchise haha. (I've gotten some crushes, sure! but they were all old crushes of mine that resurfaced for a bit, so I also already liked their source media.)

20: are there any hopes and wishes you have regarding your own selfships and/or the selfship community as a whole for the coming year?

hmmmmm... good question! uhhhh, I dunno. I guess I just hope for us all to continue being kind to one another. <3 and maybe for some people in the community to show a little bit more sympathy to those of us who are uncomfortable sharing and take our relationships a bit more seriously, because I am tired of looking through the selfship tag and getting hit in the face with being called mentally ill or whatever lol.

[estradasphere]

tangent that i was going to include in the tags of my last post but it got wayyy too long

the only thing i've really been able to gather of Estradasphere's political leanings is that they Really didn't like Bush lol, which hey thats a point in my book but they never specifically said why. not that they needed to. they were a deeply unserious band who bonded over their love of glam metal and soap operas they were never really about Sending A Message or anything. John was the only member of the band who was outspoken about anything, and he seems to have been leftleaning buuuut in a lukewarm pacifist ''why cant we all just get along, peace and love, bring our soldiers home'' way which i find kinda spineless IMO... at least he condemned the aids crisis?? he only started making more political music after he left estradasphere though i wouuuld say "well hey at least they werent bigots then yippee!" buuuut there were some aspects that were... well OK i wouldn't really call esphere straight up bigoted but there were some pretty distasteful things they did that i've had to reckon with. the stereotypical "native american-esque" chanting on A Very Intense Battle done by a white guy, for one and also the explicitly racist spoken word clips before and after it which Are definitely satirical, but ... idk i feel like the whole "rural america sucks, parts of this country are so backwards!" theme of Buck Fever is kinda immature, especially coming from a bunch of white californians lol. like, as someone from alabama i do get the sentiment i guess, the south does suck sometimes, but idano, it's not handled with any of the seriousness or sensitivity that such a topic probably deserves, is all. that's not even my main issue with them, though - it's the constant use of the g slur. like. come on. i'm admittedly not sure if it was widely considered a slur yet back then but it does still make it kinda cringeworthy to look at and share their old promotional materials nowadays (they mostly used it to describe their sound; romani music was a huge influence for them). also i won't mirror it here but tim makes a joke that's Sort Of Racist I Think(?) about romani people in the passion for life dvd commentary and timb agrees with it... argh. to jack their shit and then turn around and disparage them... argh. but you could make a case that they know better now - they Could have used the g slur to describe the sound of the high castle teleorkestra album but they say eastern european / romani folk music instead which is nice. i dunno, i don't think it'd be productive to #Cancel estradasphere 15-20 years after the fact ofcourse but i guess i just wanted to document somewhere my Struggle in reconciling my unfathomably deep love for the band with the fact that theyve done some shitty things. even after saying all this estradasphere is still my favorite band ever and buck fever is still my favorite album ever. idk, i don't think the whole mindset online of not wanting to listen to any problematic artists is healthy

i didn't even mention the gay/bi jokes they'd occasionally make and the fact that they'd say faggot when covering money for nothing (and the crossdressing which was Probably implicitly intended as a joke) but thats because i genuinely find that shit hilarious im not offended by it at all

[turtlemagnum]

remember when cyberpunk 2077 came out, i played it with steam family share from my (at the time) girlfriend's account. beforehand, i had gotten a GPU for christmas, an AMD RX570 4GB that i managed to talk my mom into buying me since it was on sale/used for about 100 bucks. turned out, the shitty prebuild desktop i had been using didn't even have a slot for a GPU, much less the physical clearance or a strong enough power supply. i told my dad, and since this was around 2020 he had just gotten a stimulus check. he had claimed me on it and got more money, even though he didn't have custody of me. my mom was pissed, but made the mistake of saying that it "would've been spent on me anyways", so i told him that and thus was born my current PC. he spent the entire goddamn stimulus check on it, including the mouse, keyboard, and screen. my mom was pissed, i didn't care because i wasn't living with her anymore and i had this baller new PC. the bottleneck, was, of course, the budget oriented GPU that i myself provided. i remember, a little while before he even told me he had built the damn thing, i saw a video where a guy did benchmarks on a PC with 32 gigabytes of RAM, and i thought to myself "wow, why would anybody need that much". as my mentioning of this implies, the PC had 32 gigs of RAM, and frankly i appreciate it purely because of how many browser tabs i have open at any given time. anyways, cyberpunk 2077, i forget what the recommended specs were at around that time, but looking at it now it says an RX580 as a bare minimum. that sounds about right, because i vaguely remember thinking something to the effect of "well, mine's only slightly weaker, should be fine! :)". well, it technically ran. i hit 30 FPS looking at a blank wall, and that was if i was lucky, but i definitely got used to the choppy 10-20 after a while. was still fun. i remember there being a hell of a lot of ludonarrative dissonance, what with the whole story being "you're a dead man walking, you're a weak link in a big scary world, you're sooo soso powerless in all of this", meanwhile i broke the difficulty with relatively little effort and was able to smack basically everyone with a baseball bat and kill em in one shot. one of the more fun broken aspects of the game was this glitch, i think it was called the khop. you know how in botw speedruns, if you use bullet time before bouncing off of an enemy and resume time, it sends you flying like a goddamn rocket? and it's because the momentum being applied in the slowed time gets sped up, so when time starts moving normally the speed is just multiplied. it was a bit like that, except it was a lot easier because slowing time could be done just by pressing a direction twice, and instead of requiring an enemy you just crouchspam and now you're flying like superman. was honest to god one of the funnest unintentional movement mechanics in a game i've ever used, rocket jumping couldn't even compare. again, really added to the whole disempowerment narrative the game was going for just not working

[write-helluva-messy-boss]

this came to my head recently:

Fizzarolli as a disgruntled cashier

Some Karen pisses him off. Not difficult to do since he's already in a job he hates. But of course he's the most sarcastic asshole you'll ever meet if you annoy him at his horrible job.

She's been hounding and nagging at him since she got here. Wouldn't leave him alone, expected him to do everything she wanted. She even called him a freeloader. Hell didn't offer bonuses, but they should have with customers like these.

And now, she was pissed he was her cashier. And that he wasn't going fast enough. It wasn't his fault she decided to get three-million things, all of which apparently were beneath her standards anyway.

And then, she said it. Annoyance on her face, looking at his arms. "They really will hire any crippled retard off the street now, won't they? Can you even hear me? I've got places to be and I don't want to smell like knock-off perfume."

He stares her dead in the face, eyes narrow. He's tired. It's right before close. Her ridiculously huge order is clogging up the conveyer, and of course, the line behind her is a mile long.

In one swift motion, Fizz extends his arm. It wraps completely around her pile of groceries. He slides it all in one big heap, over the scanner and into the bagging area. His machine beeps once, satisfied. All her groceries overflow from one plastic bag and tumble all over the floor, fruits rolling, bottles colliding with each other, boxes denting, meats and cheeses splatting.

The woman is so flabbergasted she can't even speak. Fizz shrugs.

"Oops."

Then his eyes return to the charge screen. "Six-hundred fourteen (614) dollars and eighty-two (82) cents."

Fizz's banal declaration seems to snap her out of her silence, but her voice is still hoarse, her mind blankly processing the mess rolling at her feet.

"That's not what it—"

Fizz talks over her, his teeth starting to bare. "Eight-hundred ninety eight (898) dollars and thirty-five (35) cents."

"You can't just make—"

"A thousand (1000) fucking dollars!"

By now, the checkout lane manager has heard the commotion. He's coming over. The woman is getting red in the face, almost hysterical.

"You're—!" She starts screaming profanities at him. Countless slurs.

"Twenty (20) grand!" Fizz snaps over her. "A hundred (100) grand!" Oh, he could play this game all day. His manager is trying to talk over him, pull him away, get between them. It's not fazing anybody.

"How about a million fucking dollars, you cunt?" he asks, clawing into the keyboard.

Everyone in the vicinity gasps, and the woman shrieks in anger. Fizz's arms launch to the computer where he keymashes numbers. By now, several employees have been enlisted to drag Fizzarolli away from the counter. He continues pounding on the keyboard, even as they yank at his arms. He's overextending them just to stay put.

"A trillion bucks for groceries, you whore! See how you like that shit, huh? You gonna pay for it? Pay for my disability? Keep up my useless citizen pity pay?"

She starts whacking his computer with her purse, aiming for his hands, his face, anywhere. And he, of course, starts clawing at her back, until the tug of war finally breaks him away. The manager and crowd of employees (and now bystanders) drags him away. Applause and cheering erupts from the crowd.

"Shut the fuck up, you pompous fucking cowards," Fizz bellows at them, dragged by his feet, face down across the laminate flooring of the grocer, still clenching fistfuls of fabric and electronics. One of them throws money at him. A perfectly wadded twenty-dollar bill lands in front of his face on the white, stained floor, and he watches it retreat away from him as the crowd pulls him back into a swinging door. Only then does he realize that maybe some of them were on his side.

They toss him on the ground behind a chain link fence in the stock room. The manager appears, panting, eyebrows furrowed.

"You're fired," he declares angrily before leaving once again, likely to go back to comforting that arrogant bitch. The crowd disperses, some customers spitting at Fizz's feet.

Fizz sits up, his body hurting. The world is slowing down finally, and feeling is rushing back into his core. His shoulders and ribs ache. He looks down into his hands.

Part of the keyboard is in one hand, keys falling off their spots as he releases his grip. In the other hand, there's ripped pleather. And a wallet.

He opens it up.

Credit cards. Cash. Tons of cash. The ID card matches that damn Karen.

There's his bonus.

[dwarf-vader-of-middle-earth]

Ok so here's some insider info. I worked for Five Below before the pandemic, and just into it becoming "Five Beyond" (ironically based on the appearance, I'm pretty sure it's this exact one).

Five Below is good for candy, and things you need in a pinch. But that's literally all. DO NOT EXPECT YOUR ITEMS FROM THIS STORE TO LAST MORE THAN A DAY OR TWO!!!!

Do not shop at this place for any reason unless you truly absolutely have to!!!! The chargers and phone cases break within an hour of purchase oftentimes, the headphones and earbuds outright just don't work more often than they do, the collectibles they get are the ones that other stores can't sell and Five Below tries to get a bang for their buck selling those 2 variants of a blind box and nothing else.

The customers... I'm going to give it to you guys straight. The customers were the fucking WORST here out of any job I've ever worked in my life. They came in just to pick up a ton of items they didn't want, and throw them in places they didn't belong, then walked out without buying a damn thing. If they made it to the register, they'd always come up and leave behind over half their cart saying they didn't want this or that or... anything but this one item.

I had a family come in once, and their little son gently bapped his head on the pole in the center of the store, which held up the entire ceiling. His parents came to my boss and started DEMANDING to file a lawsuit, and get that pole removed at once because her kid was concussed.

I was asked to go collect carts one day, and as I did just that, a couple pulled into the spot in front of me, rushed out of their car, and began screaming at me that I'd hit their car with the cart I was grabbing. They threatened to call the police, and pointed out a spot on the car where they claimed there was a dent and a scratch, but I have beyond 20/20 vision according to multiple eye doctors who have tested me over the years, to the point my vision has been compared to that of robots. There were no scratches or dents whatsoever on that car.

Half the people who come into Five Below are high off their asses, and mock the coworkers, shout on the phone, and so on.

One dude came into the store to do a return, and he appeared to have a mental disability of some sort. I'd know, I'm autistic myself and selectively mute. But the moment he was done, the dude got outside and called his wife, perking up like nothing ever happened at all, and said he'd scammed the store into doing a return, communicating completely neurotypically and behaving as such the entire time as well. He literally faked disability to try throwing us workers off by changing his story twenty times on how the item broke and he lost the receipt, just for us to cave and give him his money back.

There were people who would come to us with things from 2 years ago that just broke today, and demanded their money back.

But in general, this corporation sucks as a whole. They destroy a TON of product just because it's out of season. My boss had me literally take a knife to over 100 dresses and blouses one shift for this exact reason. She did the same to many tee shirts and pants throughout our time working there.

Five Below REFUSES to give raises to any employees. If you work there, and you've been there for several years, you're still getting paid as much as that person who just got hired yesterday. Managers barely make any more than that. It doesn't matter how many years pass with you employed, the only reason you'll get paid more is if your state's minimum wage goes up, therefore requiring the company to pay more.

Corporate does random walk-ins without warning constantly. And I mean like multiple times a week. The people disguise themselves as customers, and check out the stock to see if it's immaculate, the workers to see if they're sticking to the script of let go and have fun, and that they're saying something like "Have a fun day!" after every customer leaves. Because this is so common, customers often come by and say they're part of corporate, and they demand something unreasonable, but no workers can tell if they're legit or not, so they learn to become wary of official corporate in general.

Overall, Five Below is shit in every way. It's good for if you're traveling and need something right away to last you the ride home. But that's it. They're unethical, the frequent customers are no better, and the resellers who buy items in bulk just hock up the prices online for people in other countries outside the USA with good-looking products that are actually shit quality in all possible ways. Do NOT buy from Five Below, do not work for them, do not buy from resellers.

[the-firebird69]

There's a whole lot of people buying these roll up beds. And they're doing it here and soon globally it's a great idea and if you're in an apartment that's small you really can't get the box spring in there and these mattresses that they sell you can use them on the system but the ones he has is supposedly designed for it and he says this one the strings are on the bottom and it doesn't have that layer and it said it had and we looked and it doesn't and kind of sucks but it'll work just the same it's it's working he says but then springs in the bottom are tied together and mostly on a regular mattress or not so that's good he says and really that layer is what they show but it's tied together with using it and he didn't know that. So it works that way so a lot of people figured out the regular mattresses don't work that good in these platforms yet end up putting like a whole piece of wood and then it's a waste of time and the box spring has this piece of wood like every 3 in and they're three inches wide and you can do that and a lot of them do that they just get a bunch of wood and it's really a way to save money but they're getting the mattress in there is a hassle mostly they use full size not Queen they noticed that he got a queen and said it's not really that big but I need it or my feet hang off the end and a lot of them get big and small and it's such a pain and he says so when you're at your house you have to get small and people get mad when he says it but it's true so they're buying these things that's one thing it's very huge right now in Florida and where these guys go and people are watching and they see how it does and just see what they're doing usually leave the wrapper on and it would have been okay to do that but didn't say to you it actually said to take it off so you follow the instructions and he did it works by the way it just takes longer if you take the wrapper off but he didn't really care cuz he's going for 3 days either way well tons of people are going to buy it tons it's a huge product now he said it too you can go up to the regular flat in New York I usually they're not real small inside and he said they're small but they're not but the doors are and the way up there is this weird staircase or a small elevator most of them don't have freight elevators which is stupid cuz you have to get furniture in and he says RTA and it's true a lot of people do it and even with nice stuff so you can't get the expensive stuff in there for the most part people had small beds and small bureaus in New York and several people in the room so now they can bring a queen bed in and put it together in a few hours and they let it sit for a while and they're buying Brian's air mattress because 20 bucks can sleep the whole family and he's making a lot of money and he's grateful for what our son can do and showed it a little and he wants him to have a motorcycle and a sun says it's too big and he says wow and he says top speeds fast it's a lot faster than he said it's yeah probably close to 400 miles an hour and it hauls ass out there too and he said it too real surprise but we have some things to announce but that's what it's like here and I have to go through it everyday very detailed way and I want people to know and what he says he's very happy with the mattress and grateful because his feet are not dangling anJen is angry and that she's angry again his mom's bed and he had a problem and also the mattress in Franklin Massachusetts and he had it in a couple places and it got old and he was in this hole in the mattress he just kept it he didn't have any extra money and people are mad about it and say what are you mad at you idiots the only tons of money already and they couldn't figure it out it's so stupid the pseudo Empire is dumb too mac daddy is not but boy they're stupid they can't figure it out so now they're going to have a war and get rid of each other and they'll figure it out and that's going on and I'm going to make some major announcements coming up

Thor Freya

Olympus

Zues Hera

[talisidekick]

"Okay, so you're saying your luck is ... neutral?" The patron looked confused, in front of the stranger a line of coins standing on their sides.

"Yeah. Heads or tails?"

"Uh, tails."

The coin is flicked high into the air and falls hard, right on it's edge to the continued amazement of the small gathering around the bar.

"I can't win or lose," it's delivered with a shrug, "basically if I want something, I have to work for it, but if it's up to chance I won't get what I want or lose what was risked. It's just ... neutral."

"Prove it, but not with coins," says one.

The stranger sighs, "Fifty bucks on the next goal being for the home team," the stranger points to the live game.

"Deal."

And just as if it was by some estranged divine intervention, the entire game goes by without another goal getting scored. Even though the home team clearly had the advantage in skill, every attempt, by fluke, missed, or was intercepted.

"Told you."

"That proves nothing."

"Hows this," the stranger, clearly tired, offers dully, "I'll bet my entire lifes savings that I can't give you the winning lottery numbers for the 50 million jackpot."

"Wait, so you'll just give me everything you have if you can't give me the winning numbers?"

"Yep."

"Deal."

"Buy the ticket. The numbers are 12, 11, 59, 9, 22, and ... 71," The stranger sighs, watching the numbers get written down, "enjoy your 50 million."

"Yeah, right," and with that they left. It would be the next day before they came back. 50 million in the bank, with the stranger long gone. The bartender, equally amazed as they handed over the strangers phone number. The line rang once.

"50 million, right?" came the strangers voice.

"How did-"

"It's how it works."

"You have to let me give you half." says the now-millionaire.

A laugh from the phone, "that's not how it works."

"What?"

That same depressed sigh from the night before, "as soon as I say yes, you'll lose it all to tax fraud, or it'll get stolen, or the economy will crash, or ... something."

"This been happening your whole life?" The millionaire asked.

"All 600 years of it."

"What?" the bartender asked, hearing this but not believing it.

"I made a bet, when I was 15 that I'd age well or terribly. I don't age. I made a bet in my 20's I'd die of illness before old age. I don't grow old and I don't get sick." A pause and a breath. "I bet I'd probably die of an accident before natural causes to a friend. I also recently hit a low and bet I'd die by my own hand or someone elses. I made a bet I could forget anything being that I was forgetful, and the person I bet to agreed to just give me a bit of money ... I now don't forget a thing. I bet I was either the dumbest person alive, and I think you know where this is going."

"So ... you're an incredibly average immortal human being who has neutral luck. You know, you played your cards well. If I had luck like that I'd ..." the millionaire began.

"You don't understand, I didn't want to live forever, I didn't want to be forever youthful, I didn't want to be intelligent, any of it. I made a bet and the tie condition has made me this way. I can't win, I can't lose. I can't make a bet over it. I am stuck in a no lose, no win situation permanently." A heavy sigh. "I made stupid bets that 560 years later, I regret. But I can't change that. I didn't know this is how it worked, I found out too late. So do yourself a favour, take the money, live a good life, be a good person, and forget me."

"You're the reason my life is turned around, I think forgetting a woman like you is impossible," the millionaire laughs.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Heads you remember me after this call only on even days, tails only on odd days." A pause. "On the side like usual."

"Wait-" the millionaire yelled, but the call hung up. A look of dread on the millionaires face as he looked over the bartender. "I need to remember who that was, it's ... it's important ... I think?"

And the saddest look in the world was given from the bartender to the millionaire, "I don't think you will, buddy."

Whenever you flip a coin, it lands on its side, Rock-Paper-Scissors always ends in a draw, and when you enter the lottery you always win your money back but not a dime more. You’re not lucky, you’re not unlucky, you’re… something else.