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toxicanonymity · 8 months

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steady as she goes.

3.5k, Clement Mansell x f!reader | spotify playlist CHARACTER BACKGROUND: He does a lot of crimes but car theft is the only thing referenced. He loves Jack White 🎶. He's sexy and has swagger. Hot clips with audio 🥵 🥵 SUMMARY: He takes you out on his idea of a date. WARNINGS: I8+, unsafe p in v (car), creampie. Praise. Mild hybristophilia (craving that criminal cock). Canon-typical destruction of property. Reader can straddle him. Jack (White) gets cucked (by Clem's vocals). ONE SHOT. A/N: Dedicated to @milla-frenchy: happy 500 followers! 🎉 well-deserved (masterlist). I'm so glad we share an interest in this man. And THANK YOU, gifmakers!! Always inspired by gifs from @boydholbrook-fan, @ilovewhiteroses, and more. Co-written with my partner, "Jordi" 🖤.

A car cruises down your street blasting music, but you don't think it's Clement. It's too early. The sun is just starting to set, and you're fresh out of the shower. It's still an hour before he’s supposed to pick you up. But sure enough, the loud rock music gets close enough to make out the White Stripes. You look out the window, and his classic car is rolling into your driveway with the top down. Shoot. You're not ready. But goddamn, he looks good. Too good to worry much about the time.

You grab the closest item of clothing - a black slip dress – and throw a silk robe on over it. As you rush down the stairs, the car door opens outside. You wait a minute for him to ring the doorbell, but he doesn't. You stick your head outside and he's reclining with his butt against the passenger door and his arms crossed. You slip on a pair of shoes and go out to the driveway.

********************************

This man is wild. You can tell already, and you met him just last night.

He came into your bar. You took his order and he said, “Whatever you’re drinkin’.” You were only drinking coke with grenadine, but to your surprise, he nodded without hesitation. You made the drink and watched him take his first sip. “Man, this shit ain't bad,” he said. He had big energy, and his presence really commanded the room despite how casual and carefree he acted. He put the Raconteurs on the jukebox.

Throughout the night, you felt his eyes on you and had a few tense moments. His hand grazed your hip as you passed each other. When you came to give him a refill, he introduced himself before going to play pool. At one point, when he was leaning forward to line up his shot, you noticed a gun sticking out of the back of his pants. You discreetly warned him that the manager would kick him out if she saw it.

“Keepin’ me outta trouble. That sure is nice of ya, sugar.”

You smile shyly. “Just hide it,” you tell him

“Why don’tcha come on out and watch me put it away?.”

His charm was irresistible.

You quickly found yourself out in the parking lot, pressed up against his car with his nose dragging up your neck. “Mmm,” he hummed into your skin. “Not every day a lady sees my gun.” You felt something against your hip, looked down, and were startled to see him holding the gun. “It's okay baby,” he reassured you, then opened the passenger door to the car. “Wanna touch it?”

“That's okay,” you shook your head, still flustered. “It looks nice though.”

“Yeah? How ‘bout I let ya shoot it tomorrow?” he asked as he leaned over to open the glovebox.

“Really?” You asked, heart fluttering.

He acted like he was mentally debating it, then laid his weight into you against the car again. He rested his hands loosely on your sides. “Really,” he murmured, then leaned in for a slow kiss -- no tongue, but it felt pornographic nonetheless. “Pick you up at eight.”

Instead of going back inside, he got in his car and peeled off, blasting the White Stripes.

********************************

You take in the view of Clement leaning against his car in your driveway. He's wearing a dark, button-up shirt and a chain. His shapely arms stretch the material.

“You're really early,” you smile, almost breaking into a laugh. “Wanna come in while I finish getting ready?”

“I dunno about that,” he drops his hands to his sides, then stands upright and slowly steps forward. He looks you up and down and his voice becomes sultry as he gets closer. “Look ready to me.”

You assure him it'll only take fifteen minutes.

“I dunno if I can wait that long,” he murmurs as he comes within arm’s reach. He runs his hands down your sides, his expansive palms gliding over the silky robe.

You suppress a giggle. “You can wait fifteen minutes.”

“Course I can,” he murmurs, getting right up against you. He brings his mouth to your ear and lowers his pitch. “But I ain't gonna.” He grabs your ass. “Mmm.”

Your cheeks heat up. Has he noticed you're not wearing panties? “Look perfect,” he insists. He goes to open the passenger door. All the thoughts are gone from your brain.

You get in the car, no bra, no panties, no jacket. And somehow you feel completely comfortable.

Clement rests a broad, veiny hand on your thigh as he drives. His touch is light, and he occasionally takes his hand away to make a turn. When he passes the shooting range and keeps going, you ask, “I thought we were gonna shoot.”

“Oh we are, darlin'. You're gonna be my gorgeous gunslinger.” He smiles and turns up the music.

He drives to the outskirts of the city, pulls into an industrial area, and parks behind a big abandoned building. There's one flood light and it’s buzzing, casting a flickering white light on the gravel.

Clement parks and turns off the car, then gets out. He pulls a six pack out of the back seat. You get out and join him at the back fender.

He opens a bottle of PBR beer and takes a swig, then offers you your own bottle from the six pack.

“I'm good,” you decline.

“You sure?” He asks, holding the new bottle up. It's a Mexican Coke.

“Oh, wow,” your face lights up.

He opens the bottle with a wink and mentions, “didn't have cherry.”

Your heart flutters and your ears get hot as you accept the drink.

You sit on the back of his car talking and enjoying your drinks for a while. You shiver and he asks, “you alright?”

“Well, I'm not really dressed,” you laugh.

“Lucky for you, this car came with a jacket.” He hops off the trunk of the car and reaches behind the driver’s seat. When he returns a few moments later, he’s wearing a vintage brown leather jacket and holding a jacket for you.

“Looks about right, whatcha think?”

“Yeah.” You carefully step down off the car.

"Hold on,” he says and drapes the jacket over one arm. Then he steps in closer and nudges his fingers under your robe, hitting your bare shoulders and giving you goosebumps. He nudges the robe off, and it falls down to your elbows. You take it off. His eyes glue to your chest. You rub your arms. He holds out the jacket for you and you let him put it on.

He looks you up and down and gives a low whistle. “Perfect,” he nods. Then he steps closer and slips his hands inside your jacket, sliding them along your silk dress, then resting warmly on your lower back. He pulls you into him for a hug. Your erect nipples are poking him through the fabric. He lets out a low growl and pulls you in tighter. A warm, mostly soft bulge presses into you and makes you throb. He noses your hair and inhales as he grabs a handful of ass.

“Ready?” He asks in a low growl, and you've forgotten what he's referring to.

“Hm?” You respond.

“Ready to shoot?”

“Uh, yeah.” It doesn't seem like the safest environment, but there's something sexy about it, too. Your gut tells you he's dangerous, but you like it because he makes you feel safe at the same time. Like you’re not the one in danger.

“One second.” He grabs something from under the driver’s seat and puts it in his pocket. It looks vaguely flask shaped but taller. It barely fits. Lastly, he gets his gun out of the glovebox and puts it in the back of his pants.

—

Clement lights a cigarette, then you walk with him toward the floodlight. He puts his arm around you and offers you the cigarette, but you decline.

“Mmm good girl,” he murmurs with the cigarette still in his mouth. “I can tell ya ain't *too* good though.”

“Hey. I turned down beer and cigarettes. How do you know I'm not good?”

“Just got that vibe, baby.” He squeezes your arm. “And I sure am glad.”

There are multiple wide garage doors along the side of the building. You arrive at a door that's lifted up two or three feet. He holds it at the bottom and slides it up another foot or so. You still have to crouch down, and you hold your dress and the jacket against your bare thighs as you do it. It's spooky inside. Way too dark, and the space is derelict.

Once Clement's inside the building with you, he pulls a string hanging from the above. Then he drops his cigarette and the sparks bounce over a dirty concrete floor before he stops it out. Several bulbs buzz awake along the high ceiling, evenly spaced but far apart. The furthest one is against a half painted brick wall. There are crates stacked up along some of the walls and a few in the middle of the space. As you get closer, the light clearly illuminates a host of bullet holes in the back wall. There are also casings on the floor. On the wall to your right, some of the windows are busted out.

He takes his jacket off and lays it on a crate against the wall. He removes his gun from his pants and puts his leg arm around you as he shows it to you. It’s a silver gun with two swallows engraved on the handle. The birds have their wings spread and are facing each other.

“It was my daddy’s,” he says. “Only thing Mama saved for me.”

His face hardens and he turns and aims toward the back wall, triceps bulging under his shirt. He pulls the trigger. The gunshot is loud, but not as terrible as it could be. Debris bounces off the wall.

He hands you the gun, and. you accept it apprehensively.

“Are you sure this is okay? Here?” You have to wonder about people hearing the gunshots, and plus how you're destroying the wall.

“Don't you worry, darlin’. Place won't be around much longer anyway.”

“Okay.”

“Ever shot a gun?”

“Yeah but I'm rusty.”

“You'll be fine, darlin’. Go ahead.” You aim it hesitantly, half expecting the entire wall to crumble. Clement gets behind you and braces his hands on your arms. “Steady now,” he murmurs. His body is so close to yours, you get butterflies. Then he puts his arms around you. He doesn’t help you aim right away. He noses your temple and inhales your scent. “Mmm,” he hums. You relax your arms, holding the gun with your elbows bent. Then he plans a wet kiss on your neck. “Can’t help myself, sugar.” He kisses and sucks at your neck and you moan. He lightly bites you and you take your right hand off the gun to reach back for his head. You're gushing, and wonder if it's going to run down your legs at this rate.

“Mm-mm,” he shakes his head. “Wanna see ya shoot first.”

You let out a disappointed sigh, and he rests his hands on your hips. He presses his pelvis forward, and a hard shape in his pants gives you a rush of need. He murmurs, “You feel that? Oooh.” His hands on your hips pull you back on his bulge. “You can have it when you're done.”

You compose yourself and aim the gun again. He slightly adjusts your arms and directs you toward an unblemished patch of paint straight ahead, just above the exposed brick. “Hit that, and we’re done.”

It only takes you one shot.

“Well hot damn!” He celebrates. “Look at you.” You hand the gun back to him. He slinks around you, hugs you from behind again, and murmurs “don't even need my help, do ya,” then kisses your neck again. “Let's go,” he says into your skin, then retrieves his jacket from the crate. As you're walking back toward the garage door, he turns around and starts walking backwards and whistling. You glance back and he's pulled a bottle of lighter fluid out of his pocket. He's trailing the liquid as he walks.

Your heart jumps to your throat. “What are you doing?”

“Ohh, don't worry, darlin’. It'll burn slow at first. Plenty’a time to get outta here.” He holds the garage door up for you to duck under. He flips the lid of the lighter fluid closed and crams it back in his pocket.

You back away as he takes out a matchbook. He lights a match and drops it into the lighter fluid. The fire races under the garage door and Clement’s eyes are beaming darkly in the glow of it. After a moment, he says, “Woo! Lets go, baby.” You're speechless, and very turned on. He takes your hand in his and charges toward the car. His stride is so long, you're nearly jogging to keep up.

“Hahaaa,” he laughs to himself as he gets in the car. He revs the engine and turns on the music. He pops a breath mint. He sings along with Blue Orchid, and his voice really isn't half bad.

“Where are we going?” You ask.

He looks at you fondly for a moment. “Love a woman who's up for adventure.” He puts his hand behind you to reverse.

As he drives by the building, you crane your neck to see. The fire is only a flickering glow through the busted out windows so far.

He turns down the music only slightly. “Stars are out tonight,” he observes. “Know a spot with a great view,” he offers as you exit the property.

“Ok,” you try to suppress a smile.

“Yeah!” He yells and peels off on the main road. You look up at the stars with the wind in your hair. Soon, he turns onto another dark road, somewhat winding, uphill.

He parks in a dark corner of an abandoned office park. It's littered with empty bottles and faded cans. The chainlink fence has half fallen down, and there are a couple of steel drums. Clement gets out of the car. With most of this part of town abandoned, the light pollution isn't very close. You're up on a hill now, too.

He takes the lighter fluid out of his pocket, squirts it in the barrel, and drops the plastic container in with it. Then he lights the matchbook on fire, drops it. And a blaze quickly grows in the barrel.

Then he gets back in the car and moves the seat back. He leans over and pulls you in for a heated kiss. Then he pulls back and murmurs, “Now get over here” as he takes off his jacket.

—-

Thankfully, the car is roomy and so are the seats. You take off your jacket and put the robe back on. The air is cool and crisp and feels fine. As you climb over to straddle Clement, he greets you with his hands on your thighs. He slides his palms all the way up the backs of your thighs and reaches your bare ass. Then he lifts your little slip dress and says “God *damn*,” at the sight of your bare cunt. “If I knew this. . .”

“You didn't let me get ready,” you lightly punch his chest with a hint of laughter, cheeks burning. He chuckles.

“Well good. Guess I'm *never* gonna let ya get ready.” Your heart flutters at the implied future. He sticks his left hand between your legs and cups your bare cunt. “Oh, baby.” You hover above his thighs while he leans back and unbuttons his pants, then unzips and pulls them down to expose a massive bulge in his white briefs. Your breath hitches at the sight.

He grabs your ass and pulls you forward so your crotch meets his cotton-clad bulge, and a shock of desire spreads through your body like fire. He thrusts upward and you moan at the contact of his warm, hard, package. He kisses you and uses his hands on your hips to rub you against him with your mouths connected. He breaks the kiss with a sigh and says, “Fuck, let's go.” He shoves his hand down his briefs and you allow him the space to take out his commanding cock and balls. Your mouth falls open.

“Not as huge as it looks,” he reassures you. “Gonna love every inch of it.” You nod. It's the girth that has you wide-eyed.

“Oh you're drippin’ on me, sugar.” He lets his thick manhood rest against his lower belly and pulls you in so your clit presses against his warm, smooth shaft and you’re aching to have him inside you. “Let’s feed this hungry pussy already.”

He holds his cock as you hover over it then begin to slowly lower yourself, getting closer to entry. You pause, and he runs his tip through your dripping folds and helps spread the slick down his shaft. Then he nestles his tip at your entrance and you twitch.

You begin to sink down on him, with his tip spreading you wide open. “Mmm,” you whine.

“Yeah, good girl. . . you can take it, baby.” It's every bit as big as it looks. You sink down, feeling taken apart in the best way, and he pulls you down flush.

Speared on his engorged cock, pleasure races through your chest and thighs, out to every inch of your body.

“You good?” He asks, chest heaving.

You rise up then sink back down.

“Attagirl,” he murmurs. “want ya to hear somethin’.” He reaches for the tape deck and changes the cassette. He presses play and it's Ball and Biscuit by the White Stripes.

“I know this one,” you smile. It's a sexy, languid alt blues song.

“Just wait for the next one,” he murmurs, looking at you with a raging lust in his eyes. His cock twitches inside you. He pulls your face into his again and lifts his hips, pushing farther into you. You've never felt so full. “Oh baby,” he breaks the kiss. “You feel so good.” His face is so handsome in the flickering fire light. His blue eyes look almost black. The slice of bare flesh in his eyebrow is too sexy. You run your hands through his hair and he groans at the light rake of your fingers against his scalp.

He lifts into you to the beat of the song. You begin to roll your hips in sync with him.

“Ohhh, yeah,” he breathes. Part of you wants him to lose control and ravish you, but this slow fuck is perfect for the intense stretch of your cunt around his cock.

You kiss and moan as your bodies move together, and the pleasure swells deep inside you, all around his cock. He nudges the silk robe off your shoulders and pulls down the straps of your dress. He groans at the sight of your breasts. He covers one with a hand and one with his mouth and his whole body is moving in time with the music. Your chest feels light. For the rest of the song, your body is wrapped around his, and his hips are slightly lifting you with each thrust.

The same song starts over, but it's not the same singer. The voice is smoother, deeper than Jack White’s. You pull your head back to listen. Clement studies your face, and it takes you a few seconds to recognize the vocals. It’s him, Clement.

“Holy shit,” you mutter, and his face comes to life. “Your voice is–God.” It's hard piecing sentences together impaled on him.

“You really like it,” he marvels.

“Of course I do, it's . . . perfect.”

His eyes soften with affection and he kisses you deeper, smoothly thrusting. He seems to take up all the space in your body.

The passion between you intensifies until it might burst. You need all of his body. You break away from a messy kiss to undo one of his shirt buttons, then another, and he unbuttons the rest in a hurry, and leans back against the chair as you spread his shirt. His chain sparkles in the firelight. It's hanging slightly above a chest tattoo that has the same birds as the gun. His tan skin glistens in the flickering glow.

You plant your hands on his hard pecs to ride him. The movement of his hips becomes more pronounced, and soon he's taken over. He thrusts upward sharply but smoothly and starts fucking you from the bottom, grunting and sighing. He pulls you down on him each time he thrusts. You moan, feeling like you're on the brink.

He pulls you close again and kisses you sloppily while your bodies move as one. “Clem, I'm gonna–”

“Mmm,” he cuts you off. He grunts and moans against your mouth. He's close too.

“I'm gonna fill ya up, baby. . .You want that?” he pants.

You nod.

“You want big Clement dribbling’ down your thighs?”

You nod urgently.

“That's my girl.” His massive hands move you on his cock, and you whimper as you begin to unravel. You clench around him, and he fucks you through it. Then he grunts as he thrusts upward “nngg—ohhhh, uugggh.” He pulses into you, warmth spreading in your core as you finish choking his cock.

You collapse into his arms and twitch with aftershocks as he cradles your head. After a minute, you're still impaled on him and he says your name. You pull your head back.

He looks back and forth between your eyes. A firetruck siren interrupts you. There are more sirens in the distance. Clement shifts his head to look past you, through the windshield, through the broken chain-link fence. His eyes illuminate warmly and he breaks into a small smile. You look behind yourself to see a building on fire in the distance. It's now half engulfed in flames.

What a view. This man is wild, and you can't get enough of him.

-------- -------- Thank you so much for reading!! If you want, you can subscribe to notifications on @toxicfics for all my fics. If you want to be on a Boyd Holbrook character tag list lmk but fyi I sometimes write dark. I have a dark fic rn called The Raid with Steve and Javi. Javi captures reader to make her get clean (off drugs) and she's very horny for them. Steve shows up in part 2, then he has his own PWP one shot, Javi isn't home. Series ongoing.

#clement mansell #clement mansell x reader #justified:city primeval #boyd holbrook #justified fanfiction #clement mansel #boyd holbrook smut #clement mansell smut #boyd holbrook fic #toxicanonymity ☠️#boyd bungalow ☠️#👱‍♂️

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no1heyyyyyyyy · 10 months

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Sevika's tastes

Sevika is an old lady and she just wants to be left alone. She likes to look good but when it comes to clothes, Miss thing just doesn’t care that much. She always has practicality in mind. So, no dresses, nothing flowy, has to have natural fabrics so that her skin can breathe, and she requires that things are comfortable. Her shoes are always made for hardware with a strong sole and often reinforced. In the modern world, I see her working in metal working (specifically welding), so she has to have clothes that are multipurpose. Though, if she was forced to wear anything really nice, it would be a simple well-cut blazer and a button down with jeans or slacks that conform to her legs nicely. She prefers earthy colors, nothing too flashy. I think she’d really appreciate a nice dark green, or perhaps brown. I also feel that she would enjoy a nice flannel regularly.

With food, I’m afraid her palette is as unrefined as her clothing choices. She genuinely does not care what she eats, though she really likes chicken- loves hot wings, spicy food is her love. But, her comfort food will always be the food native to what part of India her family is from. I don’t think she’s the best cook, but she has a few family recipes that she knows so well (aloo gobi, chai, samosa, tikka masala, saag paneer). And, I think that on nights where she’s feeling really sad or lonely she always craves those foods. She’d love to cook with or for her partner, it’d be the best way to get to know her honestly. Because it allows for her to show vulnerability through actions and without words. She loves to take care of people and I think in modern times she’d mother her friends just a bit, always making sure they’re eating well, drinking their water, and sleeping right (if not she’ll give them some chai). She doesn’t eat beef or dark meats in general, and she isn’t the biggest fan of seafood or turkey. So, she sticks with her chicken and her paneer. She’ll eat tofu but it needs to be in curry or something similar.

This woman would love 80s hair metal, music is something that I genuinely believe she’d love so much. She’d play drums as a teenager, dead set on becoming the drummer of the next Metallica. She’d also love the old school heavy metal bands, Iron Maiden, Metallica, Black Sabbath, Pantera. She’d love them all. I think she’d like some old school 90s rap too, but none of the new-age mumble rap that’s going on. She wouldn’t really like Taylor Swift’s music, just because it didn’t vibe with her, but she respected Taylor’s ability to get a bag. She has had a huge crush on Adele ever since she heard the album 25 when it came out. She liked some of her music, but thought Adele was drop dead gorgeous and all mature and soulful and shit, hit her in the feels and made her whipped for this woman she didn’t even know.

For movies she loves shitty 80s slasher horror, nothing that makes her think. She’d sit back in her old recliner in her pajamas and house slippers whilst watching Slumber Party Massacre for the third time, and then put on Golden Girls because she feels that Dorothy Zbornak is her spirit animal. She likes a good sitcom too and a ridiculous drama (she loves Desperate Housewives), she likes the camp, the over the top acting and dumb plots, it makes her laugh and feel care free in a way she hasn’t been in a long time. She just wants to curl up with her pets (she would have many) and watch teen-based tv shows that revolve around crime or secrets (Pretty Little Liars, Riverdale, Vampire Diaries, even Buffy etc.). She likes how bad they are, but she gets so invested it’s ridiculous.

For personal scents she’d like more woody, alluring scents that are also kind of sweet. Think Amber by Rag n’ Bone (it smells so good), she doesn’t spray much, just a spritz, it wafts around her just slightly, just enough for women to fall at her feet. Her individual smell wouldn't be overpowering but it would definitely be clear. It’s grounding and soothing. Her sweat stinks though, every time she comes back from the gym, she goes straight to the showers because her own dogs don’t want to come near her b.o.

In general, Sevika is an old woman who couldn’t give less of a shit. She wants to be left alone with her life and her people and chill. Which is why, I feel like she isn’t that opinionated on much unless it’s boundaries or causes she cares about. She just doesn’t have the energy to be bothered with trivial things like which movie to choose for the night, or which restaurant to go to. She is tired and all she wants to do is eat good food with her partner and her pets in a little cottage in the middle of nowhere. She doesn’t like neighbors and she doesn’t like people in her business. She doesn’t need a perfect life, just one that’s hers.

for whatever reason the letters are being weird, it is killing me. Please ignore it.

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livefromcastledracula · 11 months

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Book Carmilla vs Adaptations (SPOILERS)

Here are a few 'interesting' adaptations. I like some of them for their own merits, but mostly dislike them as Carmilla adaptations for the below reasons, with some notable exceptions: Vampyr: The Dream of Allan Gray (1932 film): The first Carmilla inspired movie, although it keeps almost NOTHING from the novella except 'female vampire'. In this case, a creepy old lady rather than a charming young lesbian. This is a really moody, slow, acid trip of a film though, a treat for fans of vintage vampire film. (3/10) Hammer Karnstein Trilogy: The Vampire Lovers is the gayest and most book-accurate. Carmilla still kisses/seduces men before killing them, boo. The second one her identically-named reincarnation is blonde and has sex with / falls in love with a man booooooo. She's not in the third one at all. It's all very 70's and nowhere near queer enough, but at least we got the incomparable Ingrid Pitt in the first movie. 5/10. Vampire Hunter D: Bloodlust: 'Carmilla' shows up as a surprise third act villain. She's an elegant and imposing vampire queen with a castle called "Cjethe" and the Vampire King offed her previously for being A Bit Too Extra. She's... Bathory. She's Elizabeth Bathory, right down to the name of her historical castle, the elaborate gowns and the blood-bathing. Bathory in Castlevania Nocturne even looks a lot like this one. Cool scary vampire lady, but Carmilla In Name Only. 4/10 Castlevania (Games): She's fine here, but mostly just kind of a big Dracula groupie like most of the other non-Dracula vampires. Often depicting as a flying skull or mask crying bloody tears, with optional succubus-like figure reclining on top of it. Cool. Rondo of Blood has her appear together with a ninja vampire Laura with bunny ears because why the hell not. 6/10 Castlevania (Netflix show): Baddass, angry Karen. She's amazing in the first season when she's scheming against Dracula, but after that she just sort of sits on her butt sipping wine and griping about men for a whole season until Isaac storms her castle. A cool character but not a great Carmilla, because Carmilla for me is defined by how much she loves women, not how much she hates men. Still amazing voice work by Jaime Murray though and her last stand was insanely baddass. 7/10

Carmilla Web Series / Movie: My favorite adaptation. It's obviously playing waaaay fast and loose with the canon and reframing her as a charming antihero in a zany urban fantasy, but there's deep current of love for the source material, especially in the movie. Natasha Negovanlis has charisma off the charts and the Hollstein romance is adorable. This Carmilla might be a black-leather-wearing snarky millenial goth with a Canadian accent, but as the show goes on it peels back layer after layer of the romantic, poetic, wistful, world-weary immortal hinted at by the novella. This show redeems LeFanu's lovelorn villain in all the best ways. 10/10. 2019 movie / Styria movie: I still haven't seen these, have heard good things about the gothic cinematography on the most recent one but not good things about the rest of it. The trailer looked moody and pretty though, I may watch it at some point.

#carmilla weekly #carmilla #carmilla karnstein #sheridan le fanu #carmilla castlevania #carmilla of styria

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deafsignifcantother · 4 months

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if music be the food of love chapter three

♥ here you go lovies, it's series time | chapter one, chapter two, chapter four ♥ relationships: aroace Alastor x deaf female reader (queerplatonic to romance) ♥ word count: 2.4k ♥ pinterest board ♥ notes: chapter summary: alastor is a bit uncomfortable with how close he is with reader, which has never happened before since their friendship was private, but now that she is in the hotel he realizes that he has a potential weakness ♥ no tag list rn :3

Every now and then, in the room across from you, quiet jazz would play, rich only under the sound of your music, but it still reeks of exclamation uncharacteristic of the music's Earthly presence. It's a blistering noise that requires the knock on a door to stop. The sight of Alastor whenever he opens his bedroom door at the interruption of a knock strikes fear into the other residents. His smile is deadly, and his eyes burn into his peers. They get reminded of his power.

His charming mystery.

And he made the dress less than six inches from you when you slept. After a stirless sleep, you wake up to a dress draped on the mattress by your feet. The first thing you notice is the lace layers that are guaranteed to itch your skin. Tonight is your welcome party, a last-minute plan (due to your sudden appearance). There will be no dress code, no inch of modesty, but Alastor decides himself that you will be covered. Suffice it to say it is not a surprise, especially considering he isn't a fan of modern nudity, puffy skirts with breasts peeking out, heels too high to walk comfortably on dirt, and so forth, and would throw up if he saw you in such. Possessive or protected?

What you want to reveal is no business with him (as if you really would). But you are ready for your life to be led by his smiles and soft touches, as your new public appearance will need guidance; you are ignorant of current times. Or that's what you tell yourself.

Your old clothes, once your trusted companions, are now reclined over the lounge chairs by the fireplace. They have transformed like you (how did you end up at the Hazbin Hotel after being a fierce overlord?) into something different, something less familiar. But still, a better thought fuels you: this is a chance to renew.

After dressing, loosening your collar, and fidgeting with the length of your sleeves, you enter the hallway, not at all shy but not confident enough to assert your presence. The first good morning to Alastor is the hardest. You quickly discover that it flusters you to greet him so close to the time when you wake up. By his smile, you just know that your music is playing a symphony; curse that thing.

Your mind wanders into a world of memories, the fancy clothes you used to dress him in, the smile he would give you, and your music conjures the same smile; that's where you remember it from.

"See?" He motions up and down you. "The most exquisite lady I've seen in my death."

You almost finish an eye roll before he grabs your hand and kisses the back of it. The movement is not prolonged at all but so swift that you barely have a chance to process it. The way he swiftly turns around, his head going before his body, hints as to why. He must pull away before anybody spots the affection.

There could have been a better banner, but Angel spilled paint over one of the corners, and Charlie spent a few minutes crying in the limited time. You stare up at it with amazement anyway. Whose handwriting is that? It's better than most of the overlords.

"I don't think I've ever painted a banner before," you sign to Alastor. He nods, looking up at it, his smile growing. You continue, "I wonder if they would have let me help."

"Your own welcome sign? Not a chance, though Charlie loves a group activity, perhaps it was a bonding exercise."

Charlie hops over at the sight of her name sign, finally overcoming the awkwardness and not wanting to interrupt a conversation. Somehow, she thinks ASL feels more personal. Well, as do most hearing people.

"Do you like it? Do you like it?" She signs in only two motions, her eyes bright when she sees you understand her.

You give a small smile, placing your hands on hers to calm her down, her touch is extremely warm, before signing. "Thank you so much for this, I feel very welcomed. You're so kind."

"Yes," a simple word as her eyebrows furrow slightly with frustration at her small vocabulary. "I tried!"

Your eyes look around at the people, each patiently waiting for you to initiate a conversation by walking up. Since when did they get so awkward?

The moment you walk away, Charlie turns her attention to Alastor.

You give Nifty a small smile, looking at the cookies she impatiently holds. In contrast, Angel holds onto her waist, ensuring she doesn't rush over to you the moment she sees you. She drops the tray when you approach conversation stops, and they rattle on the metal. Angel lets her go with a slight look of hesitation. He doesn't even acknowledge you.

"A dress! A beautiful one!" She runs her fingers down her own dress as a classifier.

You nod. "That's due to Alastor, he—"

"Worked his magic? Your red matches his."

"Does it?"

You turn around, glancing for a second at the shade of his suit and then down at your dress. You suppose, but it is a bit darker, though that might be due to velvet. What you notice is your matching sleeves. While looking back at Nifty, she immediately starts signing again. Angel stands awkwardly, unsure if he should walk away, but he pays attention to the signing anyway. Would he be willing to learn? You hope.

"How full is your closet? What do the dresses look like? Are they naughty?"

You pick up a cookie awkwardly, giving it a small bite and signing with one hand only for the first sentence. "Well, Alastor is the one who needs to fill my closet and he hasn't yet. I doubt he'd let me wear something he would consider distasteful."

"How dare he..." she squints her eye at him.

"Right?" The slight smile on your face is contagious enough to lighten her face.

"How's the cookie? Do you like it? I didn't put any roaches in it this time." An invisible laugh leaves her lips.

You look down at it momentarily, a bit skeptical, lifting it again. No insect legs are visible, but you still put it back down, no longer taking bites. You started the day with the same soft classical music from your heart, but now it is a more jolly sound. Praying that you don't start making Angel uncomfortable, you give a small wave, which he returns. Then Husk comes to save the day with a freshly opened bottle in his hand while he signs with the other.

"Ain't seen a lick of sign language before."

"You hadn't either."

He smirks, the friendliness catching you a bit off guard. "First time for everything."

With the most neutral face you can muster in such a friendly environment, you begin to turn away. "Of course there is."

The air lightens as you turn back around, letting Husk and Angel have their conversation. Charlie is still excitedly talking to Alastor, copying his signs, and surprisingly so is Vaggie.

Once they notice you're watching, they stop. Charlie puts her hands behind her back and smiles awkwardly as if she had been caught in an act.

Less than ten minutes later, the event feels tiresome. Having Alastor interpret for you and dealing with hearing people attempting to sign becomes unbearable. Just like at the overlord meetings, you and Alastor side-eye each other constantly. The only positive you can think of is that Husk is not hiding away.

"Awfully tiring," says Alastor, crossing his legs from the couch where he sits next to you. "Why must I be subjected to these superficial conversations."

His claw circling around his knuckles is smooth enough to allure your interest. His hands are so careful, so lovely. Hiding your interest, you give him your usual small smile.

In your imagined scenarios, you can force a yawn and say you are going to bed, and Alastor would be there to tuck you in as he did years ago. Perhaps you'd wake up to a bouquet of dead roses. Foolish girl, you can almost imagine him telling you if he were a mind reader.

As you look around again, scanning to ensure no one has been trying to get your attention, Vaggie's eyes connect with yours. Her brow raises in recognition, understanding. Your shoulders stiffen, and the shame pulsating in your heart is the worst feeling in the world. But that is before Charlie captures your attention again, flashing her same old smile and hopping up and down.

And then she motions behind you. Angel brings out a cake, holding it steadily, looking down at it with a bit of jealousy. Instead of helping when the cake was baking, Angel stood at the kitchen doorway and watched how the residents came together. He was invited to help of course, but he hated what they were celebrating.

You can't help but let your eyes widen. The cookies and now this?

While you wait for Charlie to get ahold of herself and her squeals (as if the cake was made for her), you stand and hold your hands in front of you, not exactly understanding what to do at this moment. Nifty comes to distract you, climbing up your body and fiddling with the collar of your dress. You let her.

"I hope it's good," Charlie figures out how to say. "We cooked together, for you!"

Charlie believes in ending a day with something that can make somebody smile. And here you are, smiling at her, not caring to hide your facial expressions. Your music exposes your emotions enough.

The cake gets placed on the table in front of the couches, and you sit on the carpet, legs folding under you. Your soon-to-be friends huddle around. Will they trust you with a knife? Apparently so, and you make sure to hold it carefully. You're not going to let your status as an ex-overlord scare them enough to not trust you with something as simple as a knife. It slices perfectly, the cake having a perfect texture, looking so soft inside. Your hand twitches, your claws digging a bit into your palm, but not noticeable enough to worry anyone. Is this a trap? No, Charlie wouldn't allow that. But what if this is why Husk has been so friendly.

You finish slicing, managing to cut it evenly. It reminds you of the living world, the times you've watched people cut cakes, especially as a kid. Alastor doesn't mind your souring mood until he notices that your melodies are transitioning into a minor key. In an instance, unconsciously (well, regrettably subconsciously), he uses his shadows to form next to you, leaning in close while taking the knife from your hand and spinning it, making it disappear into flames. The overall mood hasn't changed, but the moment he moves to summon a plate, your eyes lock on his movements. Alastor has gotten so considerate towards you that he touched something so sweet, holding the plate in his hand with a fork.

It happens, something unpredictable.

Everybody watches as he lifts a bite and holds it to your lips. You blink before your eyes brighten. Just like that, you lean forward and wrap your lips around the fork, your focus sharpening; everybody is watching. It distracts you from basking in the enchanting taste.

"Excellent," he puts the plate down and puts all his effort into not grimacing at the sight of it. "Wasn't that nice?"

You hold your breath, determining whether that is rhetorical or sarcastic. You go along with it, shrugging and leaning a bit forward, tilting your head, something you used to do when you wanted him to touch his forehead with yours.

You pretend he does, closing your eyes to ignore his stiff posture, and you pull away.

Charlie mends you with a gaze as kind as an innocent child. Something passes between you two. Is your attraction to him that obvious? Curses.

That's the most sinister part of Hell.

He walks you to your bedroom just as you hoped he would, but he doesn't step inside. He does wrap his arms around you, though, his voice vibrating against your body. Stop speaking, you want to say, but you don't dare pull away. All you can do is drown in the gratefulness of the once-ordinary affection. His constant withdrawal is obvious, and of course you understand why. But you assumed behind closed doors he would revert back to the lovely language you two share. But no, he doesn't. He doesn't even try.

Pulling away involves letting go of the warmth of his body. You already miss the feeling of his breathing. He puts a hand behind your neck and does what you crave the most, rests his forehead against yours. His bangs brush your hairline, and you smile.

"Thank you," you sign. Alastor's smile grows, becoming soft, and his eyes flicker around, his shadow spinning down the hall before he takes your hand, just like in the morning. He presses his lips to your knuckles, closing his eyes and exhaling while he pulls away. With the moment of eye contact, his hand slips away from you, and without further words, he leaves into his room.

Your bedroom feels especially empty when you close the door in front of him. That's not the way it should be.

The large window attached to your room hardly offers a view of the beautiful city. This hill should be high enough to spot the different sections, but the huge buildings within the middle of the city shields a lot of the environment.

You only get three steps closer to the window when you worry he's just standing in front of your door. It's such a pointless thought, a momentary wish. Maybe he is waiting for you to realize his presence and offer him entrance. But when you open it, you're met with nothing, nobody. Unfortunate.

You need to stop fantasizing like a little girl.

You decide to distract yourself with the privilege of staying at such a prestigious building.

You cut through the sign on the roof toward the dark red lining of the end of the roof. Awestruck, your eyes widen, and you halt in place. You can see the entire Pentagram Circle from high above, and your music gets loud enough to hear from the ground. The different gradients of red you would have never been able to see until now reflect in your eyes, the same way moonlight would. A cool breeze messes with the lace on your sleeves and rubs against your skin as you knew it would when you put the dress on.

When the rare clouds begin to hide the lighting from the radiant Pentagram above, the breeze starts to freeze, and Heaven's clock becomes the brightest light. Back inside you go. As always.

#x deaf reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #x reader #alastor x reader #if music be the food of love

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ladylaviniya · 9 months

Text

The Negatives of Shooting People

Chapter 2 || MasterList || Chapter 4

Chapter Summary: A new job creates a new problem for August who decides he needs to remind you of his power. You let Lloyd inside, and he has an offer to make.

Chapter Warnings: 18+ Dead Dove Do Not Eat, Masturbation, Referenced Non-Con Events, Implied Illegal Weapon Arms Trading, Threats, Manipulation, Stalking Journalism.

Pairing: Kingpin!August Walker X F!reader

Word Count: 9.4k

Author Notes: in my mind and casting, Jude Driver is played by Adam Driver. Wesley Gibson is played by James McAvoy. Brandon Sullivan is played by Michael Fassbender. Katarina Vikander is played by Alicia Vikander.

Inspiring Song: "Woman." by Ke$ha.

10:23am Thursday 8th August 2024, Brisbane CBD.

“These photos Miss Y/L/N, they’re magnificent. I haven’t seen quality this good since…well…never really…When can you start?”

You grinned, sitting across from the head editor of one of the smaller local newpapers.

You knew you had to find a job quickly…you were sick of the employment agency and their unhelpful attitude. You knew if you were going to remain safe and take down the billionaire asshole, you needed to be the best version of yourself.

It had been a three days since you first met that monster... August Walker. And he had seemingly invaded your every thought. He was there in the back and front of your mind haunting and taunting you with his smirking lips and roguishly deep voice.

The gentleman who sat in front of you had no idea. That was something you were okay with, how could anyone know? No one knew. You hadn’t called or replied to any text messages Lloyd had sent.

You made a resume portfolio of your best photos you’d taken since your first camera your dad ever bought you. Both Polaroid and electronic. You still hadn’t forgotten that August had stolen one of your father’s cameras from the day he forced you to cum on the recliner chair.

You knew you were inexperienced in journalism…but your photography was a master skill unlike any other.

Your successful interview, you put it up to a great sense of confidence, as well.

“Right now if you’ll have me,” you winked. He was an older man of an older generation. Clearly he knew and was a deep fan of Australian banter that borderlines the aesthetics of flirtation. You were a young woman and he was an older man, the math was simple. Bat your lashes, pretend to be coy and then slide in with a sarcastic remark or sexual innuendo.

He laughed and leant over his desk. You shook your new bosses hand.

He liked that very much. ‘Of course he would, he’s practically old enough to be someone’s perverted uncle.’

“Oh most definitely…” he said biting his bottom lip, he was milking the banter.

He was a handsome even for a classic perverted elder fellow. John Luther was a grey fox so the ladies might say. You were sure that from now on never to truly trust a man…so when he winked back and looked down your shirt- at your chest, you smiled wider, ‘predictable men…he is going to be easy to manipulate…’

You had to thank August one day…if he hadn’t hurt and humiliated you the way he did…you would never have felt the rage of all women and the desire to use your assets to get what you wanted in this Man’s World.

You sat back a lit and lifted your chest as you gave a big happy sigh while watching Mr Luther continuously ogle your chest.

It sent a shiver even down your spine thinking about it…entering a villainess era…a femme fatale story….a tale of revenge and justice.

“I admire a woman with confidence,” he said sucking his teeth, his right hand slide down beneath his desk out of view. You had half a mind to assume he was palming his dick in his trousers.

“So how about I assign you your first assignment? See how you go? I’ll even let you choose…”

“Choose?” you asked with a faux coyness, fluttering your lashes.

“Well, we have a very interesting story idea in regards to the Woolloongabba Doggy Day care that just moved to East Brisbane, rumour has it that the business is understaffed for the amount of dogs they keep in care. And they only use half of the required sanitization required. A spread of kennel cough and many dogs having their ears ripped off by other larger dogs belonging to rich clients the owner of the doggy day care refuses to lose business towards.”

Oh dear, you noted, that sounded tragic….it’s a good thing you never had a pet as a kid. It would hurt too much to be in that position. Hearing a pet dog had its ear ripped off by savage untrained dogs.

“...And the other case?” You sweetly chirped.

His smile fell, “There’s a certain gentleman that’s running around allegedly smuggling drugs and arm deals…” he repeated, “’Allegedly’…”

He rolled back in his chair to reach for a folder on his bookshelf, flicking through it.

Your craning neck had time to catch the outline of his prick beneath his pants. ‘Oh yes...this man is putty in my hands.’ When he swivelled back, you dashed your eyes back to his desk trinkets and smiled at him.

“A bloke named August Walker selling to or buying from an old money American philanthropist Brandon Sullivan…”

‘No fucking way’….just your luck…

You were going to fucking take it no matter what….

Luther grimaced, “It’s a big task so I won’t judge you for not taking it. I’m just hoping to catch the sons of bitches at it. It would be a huge story for media not even those wankers at seven, nine or ten news could think to report.”

You reached over his desk to steal his pen and stick note pad. You took down the name he mentioned on a sticky note- Brandon Sullivan...you made sure to memorise it well.

“How about we even make those conniving morons at sky news jealous, sir?” You smirked and watched as the rockets soared in his eyes with his white tooth grin.

He laughed hard.

He wiped his hand down his chin, “I love a girl with ambition Miss Y/L/N. I’m sure you won’t disappoint me! The dead line for photos is in a week, he’s having some soiree on next Friday or something so it’s got to be before then because you’re never gonna be able to enter those clubs, chicky. Respectfully.”

You smile and shake his hand again, “Mr Luther, I swear…I’ll give you the best goddamn shots you’ve ever seen of that criminal.”

Now your man hunt had truly commenced, you smiled to yourself. Who knew that revenge could come so easily and quickly…

Luther gave you your own cubicle to work in. A place to hang and edit your photos. A place to file your evidence. He may have mentioned that the work they did in his agency was on par with the police but by no means legally police work. So if the cops arrived, you stayed hidden and kept your fucking mouth shut....

You had a job and began researching the bastards name again on your laptop, compiling the sources from Google and the notes from Luther’s folder files.

You discovered the following about August J. Walker.

He was born in New Jersey. He was twice your age and almost as old as your father. He had a plethora of connections in businesses from alcohol distillery to Chinese restaurant vendings. Actually you were confident that a restaurant he help partnership over had a familiar logo. You tapped your lip and wondered briefly if your father ever delivered there as a truck driver.

August was a fan of European and Asian based foods and sold it at his clubs. He owned over fifteen around the world. One of his biggest in Australia was The Lions Lounge, it was on the edge of Fortitude Valley. It was for the richest social elites of the country. The price of food alone was almost your weeks rent.

On the website of his club you could see information regarding the tightship of his security. It seemed supreme so there wasn’t a chance of you going to his club without a fat purse and invitation.

A party was coming up, a celebration for the ten year anniversary of its opening. A soiree with a “The roaring 1920s.” Theme. You scoffed at the cliché.

It was exclusively invite only, it was only on the website so that those who received a invitation could reply a rsvp. And with you fresh out of luck of an invite like Luther even said, there was little to no chance of clawing your way inside.

So...that’s when you had to resort to extra creativity. You held up the sticky note and smiled.

09:07am Wednesday 14th August 2024, Robertson Brisbane.

August Walker was a man with a craving to remain in power. He had fought tooth and nail to get where he was and for now he felt incredibly comfortable…he had enough money to buy the fucking country...he had the power to make politicians kneel and kiss his shoes if he demanded it. To the police, with his legal team, he was currently untouchable.

He could literally have any woman he wanted…but he wanted you. Since that night he first saw your photo, he starved. He had given you time to mourn. Now you were alone and he righteously believed you needed him.

Yet to his surprised pleasure, he liked the fight and push you tried to dish out on him. Your guts to go to the police sent blood to his cock. He hadn’t expected it. He believed you’d roll over and cry only. He never predicted you’d immediately leave the apartment before he could wish you a good morning or afternoon after leaving you drugged up. He snooped for hours in your father’s bedroom and yours. He’d flicked through your old school reports and photos. He tried tidying your mess and clutter, washing your vomit covered duvet and even had cigarette to pass the time.

So when he received that call from the police requesting his presence, instead of anger, he felt surprise. Not many could surprise him. But you did...

He pushed away from his desk and rubbed his eyes chuckling, you were definitely a tasty little thing.

It made his dick hard when he remembered you crying beneath him. He loved to fantasise your pathetic excuses and spitfire words. He only wished you’d push the boundary more. The more you fought, the sweeter the submission.

He pulled out his ‘other’ phone. His ‘business’ phone. The phone no police would ever know or see. He swiped his thumb across the screen and groaned at the sweet nude thing he took photos of the night you’d both met. Oh how pitifully adorable you were with your desperate pleas and confusion as the pill quickly broke down into your blood stream.

He wished he had a video of it. How he teased your phone away from you. How he mocked you. Half of it he imagined you probably didn’t remember. After all it wasn’t long that you were totally out of it, limp and softly snoring.

He liked how much control he had over you. Laying the strips over your hairy body and tearing it away to be baby smooth as he liked it. How delicate you looked as he rubbed the baby oil into your skin to settle any potential irritation. Perhaps it was sick of him to prefer you like this. He sighed, licking his bottom lip, staring at the photo he took of your freshly waxed pussy.

He had done sicker things to other people. But you were someone who didn’t deserve this. That is where the guilt lied. You didn’t deserve this and August Walker fucking new it deep in his bones.

He wasn’t shy of hurting innocence but your situation was different. This was personal.

So really could he hold it against you for going to the police? No... And besides...his false alibi had been solid... especially after the rape kit evidence had been tampered with, concluding as inconclusive...

Something about the thought of making you submit but never fully breaking, constantly challenging him- turned him on so much, he found it impossible to work. He slapped his phone down and chewed the inside of his cheek while he considered calling up Natalie, one of his go to escorts. His payable whores. She was expensive but she knew how to suck him off to completion quickly and he wanted to focus on work and finalising the details of his party in two days, not on you.

As fate would have it….he wouldn’t have a choice…the phone rang on his desk.

He pressed the reviewer to his ear and turned to look out the window.

“Walker.”

“It’s Gibson.”

He smiled and leaned back in his rolling chair, “Ah Wesley, yes, how are you mate?”

“You’ve got a little problem, sir,” he heard his public relation specialist sigh, “A tail.”

“Oh?”

“I’m sending the email now,” the click clack typing of the keyboard echoed in the headset Wesley wore,” It seems the paper has started to find better journalists…”

The email notification came in quickly. The ping from his monitor forced August to spin around in his chair. He pursed his lips and scrolled to click the link.

He hovered the mouse arrow down and noticed the collection of photos taken of him in the high class restaurants talking with a old underworld buddy of his. Some of the images however were incredibly exposing. His hand was shaking Brandons in one when he made a export deal with him, another photo showed August’s fingers touching a contract, his eyes looking at a phone Brandon was holding with images of guns. This was not good at all…

“What the fuck…” his hand pressed to his lips, he mused, “The photographer was smart, he knows how to pick a decent angle, Jesus what camera took this?” He clicked another photo, “These details…you can practically see every pore on Brandon’s bloody face…”

His mouth felt dry. He knew he needed to hire Natalie’s services now, the stressed building up had him tense. His erection had vanished, now it was a matter of pain in his shoulders and back.

He scrolled further and stared at the headlines jumping out. “Playboy or Pathological Criminal.”, “Party King or King Pin.”, “Australia’s own insider terrorist.”

His eyes widened at seeing the publishing office. John Fucking Luther & Co. News.

His jaw cracked with the tightness he clenched. No. He didn’t have time for this shit.

“She, sir,” The lackey corrected, “Newest of Luther’s flock. His word usually isn’t credible but this? This is going to be hard, expensive press to erase or cover up. Other news outlets are fighting over the rites.”

She...

He picked up a pen and clicked the button. Why was it even that important.

She...

She? His eyes sharpened. He looked closer at the photos on his screen. Something about the photo style reminded him of something earlier he had seen the previous week. So many….on a wall…beside a bed…filled with a captivating woman he defiled…but surely not you? Surely not you...

“What did you say?”

“Sir the cost to-”

He shook his head and sighed into the phone, cutting of the agent, “No, no, I meant the photographer. You said ‘she’? Luther? Are you sure this is real? His lot are the worst, always blurry or grainy if they’re lucky…who the fuck is this new photographer or editor or whoever the fuck is getting these images.”

“We can only assume,” Wesley mumbled, “You’ve had this little thing on your tail for the passed few days, she tries to be sneaky we’ve noted. We didn’t expect her to release decent pictures…we followed her back to the Luther office. The angles fit the locations we have caught her in.”

His thumb pressed hard against the pen.

“Show me this bitch,” he growled under his breath.

Another email ping and a link later, your face filled the computer screen. Your eyes burned him right back…you were in a few photos. Some where you hid among a roof top, another you were hiding in a corner at the restaurant, and finally one where you were just in a park looking down at your camera probably going over the shots you’d taken.

“Want us to deal with her, sir?” he suddenly heard Wesley ask. Deal with her...Destroy her reputation...beat her up…sell her…or kill her....no…no...not his new puppy.

He blinked with bewilderment and hummed, “No...” He cleared his throat, “No, no thankyou, Wesley. I know this kid; don’t worry…” he smirked, “This is just a simple misunderstanding…bit of…play. Trust me.”

Oh how he could’ve whipped the skin from your back raw for this if you were anyone else...

“Sir, if you can’t get her to stop, if she’s going to keep doing this…” Gibson warned, “Anything more in depth- you’ll wind up in court or prison at the worst, the pigs aren’t taking the pay like they used to…”

August shook his head and sighed, “It wouldn’t be the first time Wesley. Ignore her. I’ll deal with it. She’s my responsibility.”

His public relations officer seemed to pause for a moment. As if he had something else to say but he knew better than to total talk back to August Walker.

“Alright sir, have a good evening,” August heard before he slapped the phone, hanging up.

He scooted closer to the screen and scrolled back at the photos you’d taken. He bit his lip and chuckled, shaking his head at your profiling photo, “You little-...you want to play this game? Fine, now it’s my turn.”

He began dialling up a new phone number. He held it back up to his ear and waited for the receiver to pick up.

“Jude mate, I’m gonna need you to develop some photos for me...oh yes,” he replied pinching the pen in his hand, “Red room style.”

06:19pm Wednesday 14th August 2024, Woolloongabba, Brisbane.

“Who needs a man? Huh!” You said to yourself testing out the new bolts and chain locks you installed on the front door. They rattled and locked. They didn’t budge when you jiggled the handle and pulled. You still had three more you planned to drill in.

You wiped the sweat off your forehead and grinned proudly. This is something your dad should have taught you how to do. Thankfully with the help of a YouTube tutorial and a bit of bravery you managed to take full control and ownership of your front door.

If your new landlord wanted to charge you for damages to his door, so be it, as long as this kept you protected from him while you slept at night that was all that mattered. He’d either have to pick every complicated lock, guess or, he’d have to hire the damn firefighting crew to use a battering ram.

When you opened the door again to test it a second time, a squeak of surprised popped from your lips. You clenched your dad’s power tool tightly.

A man in a black suit and black sunglasses stood outside the door with an large yellow envelope in his hand. He held it out to you silently. He looked ominous and familiar, he wore leather gloves…your eye widened, he was August’s driver.

You glanced between him and his hands. Every second was a risk you weren’t sure you could keep taking. You hesitantly pinched the bottom of his flat package and he let go. He pulled the edge of his sunglasses down his face, looking at the plethora of door locks.

‘What was his name again? Judea, Judas?’

He said quietly, “It might be better if you open it inside...” his eyes glanced at the door again before smirking, “Nice locks...pretty crappy if you think it’s going to stop him though.”

‘Him...August Walker...’

You stood still in shock. He gracefully spun on his heel and left. Your tongue caught in your throat…what the fuck was this?

The package was as thick as your hand.

You had to know it was from August…I mean who else could it be from? Especially since you speculated it was his driver that delivered it…especially since there was a massive cursive ‘A.J.W’ on the tab of the envelope.

You held your breath and walked hurriedly backwards inside.

Your teeth caught your upper lip. You slammed the door shut and locked all the locks before going to the couch, disposing the drill on the coffee table, and tearing open the envelope.

You pinched the top wide open and hovered your eyes inside. There was a white papery page ripped out from a note book. You pulled it out and unfolded it to read his handwritten warning.

“Careful Puppy, you’re lucky my men didn’t bite when they sniffed you out, sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong. I think you need a break from your little hobby. So I’m going to remind you...I have copies of these. Scratch me again and I’ll bite back. Stay down or I will put you down.”

Your mouth became dry as your eyes raced over that one last line again.

‘Stay down or I will put you down.’

When you ‘put down’ an animal, it usually means death…your insides grew cold. You were confident this was a strict warning, not a threat but a promise, August walker was telling you to stop investigating or he would kill you…

Your hands shook uncontrollably. You wanted them to stop. Your body felt the reeling anxiety. You dumped the rest of the envelope over the counter. All the content spilled across the entire floor. A camera came clattering out. Your father’s camera in fact.

Inside were photos of you. A photo of you working in the editor office. A photo of you walking in the deli section at the underground Woolworths grocery store and photos of you sitting at the Queen street bus station, even the bus numbers showed up. The bus 200 via Carindale. Then at the bottom of the spread out deck of photos were the shots from the night he forced you to cum on the recliner and the night he had drugged you, naked on his bed.

Your teeth clenched hard.

You felt your eyes grow hot quickly with tears. You didn’t like how pathetic and helpless you appeared, covered in tape, and totally lost in the bliss of his sexual torture. You didn’t realise how sweaty it had made you until noticing the intense wet shimmer over your body in the photo, the hot light of the camera shone reflectively from your skin.

You closed your eyes and choked on a sob. He made his point loud and clear but it wasn’t fair. Why could he get away with all of this? You wanted to tear all the photos up one by one until they were tiny papers the size of your pinky nail.

But they sat in a piled collection on your coffee table.

Your hand cupped your mouth as you fought your wails. You clenched your teeth and stomped your foot.

You kept rereading his note. Memorising his handwriting. His Y’s had a straight tail that didn’t curve upward. It made you hate him twice as much as irrational that detail was.

August hadn’t come back since then. He had not made any personal contact since he cornered you in your father’s bedroom. It wasn’t the last time you saw him though…you saw him almost daily, but you confidently were sure he never saw you until now. You were gathering all the evidence possible to put him in the doghouse...

You pressed yourself against the wall and slid down it on your back until your bottom hit the floor.

Now what would you do? Take photos and write about abused animals instead? Always worrying about August coming into your home to take his revenge for the humiliation and defamation you brought to his name?

You settled your hands into your lap. Your heart was pounding. You could hear every awful thud.

Your phone came to life. Lloyds number ran across your screen.

‘Oh god, Lloyd. Sweet, wonderful Lloyd. Maybe he could help me.’

Hitting the green button, you picked up the phone and cleared your throat, “Hey, how are you?”

His voice was a cool balm, “I’m getting on alright. I thought I’d call and check up on you. You haven’t been very chatty over text is all. I still think you should move Y/N.”

Lloyd kept you as updated as he could. He said he interviewed August a few days ago and the excuse was laughable. August had lied about being at his club during the time he had been with you. He had staff members who could vouch for him, Lloyd suggested they’d been paid off and supposedly security footage, all which Lloyd assured must’ve been edited. It was comforting knowing out of everyone, Lloyd stayed true in his belief that you were a victim.

Another tear rolled down your face, your voice became shaky, “Yea...I think you’re right. Lloyd...things have been happening...and...can you- can you just come over please?”

You were breaking down hard and couldn’t stop the wave of anguish coming over you. The detective was compassionate and said softly, “Of course. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

When the phone disconnected you rubbed your face and flared your nostrils. Seeing the photos made you feel dirty, unclean. You decided a quick shower before Lloyd arrived might help you relax and calm down from the absolute panic attack creeping under your skin. You stood under the hot spray and tried to control your breathing.

And under the water your thoughts persisted to race. A particular question shot through you.

‘Why would he even send those to me?’ Your eyes shut. ‘Why’? If you were just some women, he liked to fuck and humiliate... ‘Then why didn’t he just come in and do it in person?’

It was like a pin had dropped. Your eyes flashed wide open, and you turned off the water. You scrubbed your face and got out of the shower, rushing to put your pyjamas on. You almost slipped on the tiles and hard wood.

You crashed to your knees at the coffee table and spread the photos around trying to find that one.

The one where you were sitting inside the editor building at your cubicle. It had been taken from a low angle on the street. A small laugh escaped you. If he sent you an image of you at the office he knew where you worked, and who you worked for…he had read your articles...a light laugh escaped your parting lips. Tears dripped from your eyes, not from grief or fear, oh no, it was relief. Now it made sense.

'Of course!' August had read your articles...and they- you chuckled; they frightened him!!! Yes, maybe not to the extent of full fear, but enough that he felt it fit and necessary to send these too you. He felt threatened. The articles were piling up on speculation against him now in the paper. You were walking a thin line between defamation and creative liberties in alleged speculations, but Mr Luther assured it was legal in the laws of journalism and gossip.

If August had copies of your lewd rape photos, if he published them…you didn’t care...what was the point in caring about that?

You knew humans could be animals. It didn’t matter what was seen. Anyone can masturbate to anything, even just a selfie – so an image of you cumming on the recliner chair was really nothing at the end of the day…sure you might lose your job but the confidence to get you there would be used in the future again. And it would be all worth it just to watch the cuffs slap over August’s wrist. Because even if he’d never go away, locked up for your abuse, you could at least drag him further down with as many criminal activity charges as possible.

You glanced at the note he wrote…maybe he didn’t even write this. If he really wanted you dead, you were sure you would be. This wasn’t a threat, this was a game. He was toying with you, clearly trying to scare you into stopping any investigations of his hidden underground work.

Little did he know, he had no idea that your rage and hunger for revenge was greater than your fear of him.

You pinched a photo to the light and smirked. If only a week ago, this poor defenceless girl knew how her life would change for good...her eyes the mirror of yours. You slapped it flat in the table and pinched your eyes. August was definitely no talent in taking photos.

You smiled recalling how Luther reacted to the first photo you brought him the third day of working...

02:36pm Thursday 8th August 2024, Brisbane CBD.

On the sticky note you’d written down a name Mr Luther had shared. You looked up that name, Brandon Sullivan, with deep dive searches and found very little of him…however he did have a single photo up on his Facebook, he was holding a gorgeous woman.

Once you had reversed search the woman’s face, Katarina Vikander, you could have peed with excitement. She was some Swedish ballet dancer and super model. She was Brandons girlfriend. And she was happy to share a dozen photos over all her social media platforms…and yes, Brandon clearly wasn’t a fan of his personal paparazzi, but there were hiccups in his cover ups.

Katarina had taken a selfie on a balcony; her sunglasses reflected her phone and Brandon coming out of their hotel bathroom.

Behind Katarina was a marina in the background. That area was very rich and popular and easy to find. You recognised the area only by chance. The were staying at the JW Marriot Gold Coast Resort and Spa. You could see the JW Marriot logo on a bath robe in a previous photo while she wore a creamy face mask with cucumber slices over her eyes.

Katarina seemed to have this obsession with a Americana aesthetic, her favourite artist was in her saved Instagram stories, Lana del Rey.

The caption of her post with Brandon hidden in the background under a broad brim hat said, “Sunny and happy with my love, he doesn’t like the seafood here, he wants ‘real truffles.’ **eyeroll emoji**”

You remembered how you sat back after seeing that and searched every restaurant in the area of the Gold Coast region and only one sold authentic truffle dishes…men are fickle and usually won’t try new things…he was clearly a man set in his ways if he wouldn’t let her post photos of him. or at least that was your theory and assumption about the almost non-existent Brandon Sullivan.

You went back and searched August. He had a decent amount of information, he was very private however, no named girlfriends or family. He was very business oriented….and what did you know? Two years ago on his LinkedIn profile you could see August had been at the opening of the same little truffle restaurant nearby where Katrina and Brandon were staying. You scrolled.

‘Looks like he was or still is an investor.’

It wasn’t solid evidence, and you didn’t know if August would be there to meet with them…so all it took, was a simple phone call…and the great skill of confidence with a stride of lying.

As the phone dialed, you selected a fake name. Your co-worker had a F.R.I.E.N.D.S coffee mug, and you stared at the dark drink stain…it’s dark colour making a perfect name.

When a staff member of the restaurant answered you hurriedly got through your plotted lie, “Hello? Yes, my name is…Jennifer Brown, I’m Mr August Walkers new assistant…listen his last employee was quite begrudged and threw out all the known appointments Mr Walker was to attend in the next three months. I’m pretty sure he has a table booked for your restaurant?”

The administrator paused. You hoped he wouldn’t ask you to repeat yourself or question you further, so you sarcastically joked, “He will murder me if I can’t find out, it’s very important.”

You prayed he’d bite the banter.

The administration clerk had a boyish tone, “Of course! Would you like me to look up the time and date of his reservation?”

You smirked and held back a cackle, you feigned a sweet joyful cry, “I would be grateful if you could be a dear, thank you so much!”

And that was how you found out the schedule and exact location of August Walker and his criminal associate.

09:45am Friday 9th August 2024, Coomera, Gold Coast.

Getting inside the restaurant wasn’t too hard. It had an open-door area with French doors. You made sure to wear a large sun hat and a plain dress. Your dad owned a small camera, about the size of an apple. You put it on a timer and leant to the floor, aiming the view finder at their table.

The entire time you swore you were sweating bullets. If August had seen you and confronted you, you probably would be chained to a pipe laying naked on a dirty mattress…maybe with those missing women you heard about on the news, Rachel, Stephanie, and Alison.

‘Why didn’t he keep me then? We did he return me back home? Did he kill those other girls?’ the more you thought too deeply on the topic, it made your skin crawl.

You clenched one of the forks, staring at the kingpin in the reflection. He looked to smug for a man that got off on harming women. You wished you could stab out his eyes with the prongs. And when the waiter came around to ask what you wanted to order, you held up the fork and requested a new one, apologising for “dropping it”.

You determined the camera had taken enough footage. You knew you’d need to make your escape when the waiter left to find you a new fork. Afterall- who can afford to pay for a cut of salmon with rocket leaves and white sauce for a hundred and thirteen fucking dollars?

You went straight home on the train and bus. You developed the photos in the bathroom sink. Hanging it up on the shower rails to set.

Those were the first photos you gave Mr. Luther.

The other times you took photos of Brandon and August were harder, a little more risky.

06:23am Saturday 10th August 2024, Coomera, Gold Coast.

You had staked outside of the hotel where Brandon stayed. Waiting across the street in a side street. It was cold and miserable. But you knew August would be down here. Darling Katarina had posted a photo of her shoes in an elevator, beside her feet were Brandons shoes, but his had a shine. You could see the blur of Augusts moustached face. Maybe it was a reach, except when the caption said, “Lions Lounge anyone? Don’t my heels look incredible! **love heart eyes emoji**”

You were dressed in rags, you clenched a juul stick you bought that morning, gagging on the watermelon flavour while you practiced your “Eshay” accent. You stared up at the windows trying to guess which room the three were in with the help of the ex-ballerinas photos.

A month ago, you would’ve thought doing something like this was insane and frankly unhealthy. But you a month ago had not been humiliated and manipulated, God knows what a woman will do once you’ve pissed her off…was it obsession? Most definitely, for revenge, for justice, for all the girls who fell for August and harmed by his reputation.

You waited…and you were right. Brandon and August walking out together. The sweet young woman was clinging to Brandon’s side with a wide girlish smile and love heart shaped sunglasses. Funnily enough, the car that picked them up just so happened to be driven by the same dark headed driver in the same black car that August took you in. You took a snapshot of the license plate and watched it drive through the somewhat slow traffic down the street. You walked and walked, keeping your eyes set on the license plate. While traffic rolled, you turned and noted there were a few empty taxis.

You took off the jumper that you cut a bunch of holes in and dumped it in a garbage bin before bending down and tapping on one of the taxi windows.

“Hey! Are you available to drive me?” You called to one of the taxi drivers that hadn’t noticed you until that second...his eyes widened with surprise before nodding, “quickly, traffic is slow, hop in!”

You slid directly into the passenger side, which on a normal day you’d never dare.

But today wasn’t a normal day. You sat up in your seat and scrolled the area with your eyes.

“So where are we headed today, ma’am?” The driver asked.

You pointed ahead with a cheeky smile, “See that black car? The fancy one.”

“The tesla?” He asked.

“My friends are in that car, so please follow it. They know the way.”

He peered at you curiously, you knew it was stupid. If you had friends rich enough for a tesla, they’d never leave you to find a taxi. But hey…money is money, the driver wouldn’t argue. He started the timer and to your satisfaction traffic picked up. When they zoomed through the street the taxi tried to keep up. They were driving to a quieter street with Western Europeanised cafe’s.

As they stopped and hoped out you quickly requested to the driver, “Do you mind going around the corner? I’m a little embarrassed.”

God, you hated to say it but you had to play the suddenly snobby cunt.

He didn’t care either way to your relief and parked around the corner, metres away from the two men.

You paid the driver handsomely with cash you managed to find in your old piggy bank back home and slid out of the cab. Your face carefully looked around the corner and you skirted back. August, Brandon and Katarina had decided to sit outside in the warm morning sunlight. It was just your luck! Quickly, you crossed the street away from the cafe. The more distance the better.

To your luck it was a block of units across from the cafe. You walked around the building and kept your head down. You came up behind in an alley and smiled at the long spiral stairs that went up to the roof top. The adrenaline extinguished all fear of heights and pushed you up until you stood out on a flat roof. You crossed the way and looked over the side.

‘Fuck’, you thought to yourself. ‘Would a police officer ever do this? Would Lloyd ever have the guts to do this?’

Probably not, there was lots of red tape involved in police investigations...but you were just a reporter...You were a photographic investigator and you amazed yourself at the lengths you were taking. You were eager to get these shots. This evidence.

You saw the pair of businessmen receiving a cup of tea and breakfast meals from the waitress. Getting down onto your tummy, you grabbed your camera and leant over the ledge to zoom in on the two.

The pumping blood roaring in your vein filled you with a mixture of fear, excitement and surprisingly…arousal.

Those were the photos that made it to the papers first.

06:35pm Wednesday 14th August 2024, Woolloongabba Brisbane.

As you reminisced on the evidential demise of August Walker, a knock at the door designed a bigger grin across your face. Lloyd had arrived. And no longer standing in a fit of sobs you welcome him cheerfully at the door.

He was wearing a black turtleneck and black slacks, totally out of uniform. Below his eye was a reddish spot. It was shining against his pale face. It wouldn’t surprise you if it was a bruise.

‘Many police are brutal and cruel but there’s no way Lloyd is one. He isn’t one of those cops...he must’ve been attacked by some bogan eshay or crackhead.’

His smile turned your knees to warm jelly. You felt shy like some first year highschooler being noticed by the seniors. He just had this glow around him.

“Hi Lloyd.”

“Hello there,” he said softly, his head cocked to the side, “Do you mind letting me in?” He asked.

‘Oh right.’

“Come- come in.”

You felt your face grow warm. You opened the door wider and looked out and down the hall. You held your breath and stood aside. The tall man slid passed you inside to your lounge room.

You took a massive breath in and exhaled. No one was waiting behind a corner or ready to catch you with the officer. You knew there were no security cameras and you doubted August would ever add any with his reputation.

Lloyd removed his leather shoes and placed them beside the door. His black socks glided over the hardwood.

You bit your lip…you looked back at the coffee table and quickly shut the door, bolting the locks after the detective entered your flat.

If August knew you were letting a detective inside, continuing to talk to one he could-…’Well, hold on...how would he know? He wouldn’t.’

“Woah, locked me in, what are you doing?” Lloyd gasped as he glanced over the metal mechanisms of your door. His eyes widened when you twisted the locks and shifted the small chains.

“I just...um. August Walker.... he’s kinda now...my new landlord and he probably will be getting keys soon and I....” your breath wavered. You paused and took a deep breath, “I needed to talk to you privately in person I think....”

His eyes didn’t grow any wider, but his pupils shrank. He pinched his dark pink lips. Sucking his teeth loudly he nodded slowly.

“That’s definitely a pickle you’ve been put into then, huh?”

You nodded back, pressing yourself against the door, sighing softly, “That’s not even the half of it Lloyd...”

His eyes raked up and down your body in surprise. You weren’t wearing your bra and your nipples were rock hard. Your pyjama bottoms were very short and little did you realise how much they were riding up your thighs.

You walked around him timidly to the coffee table.

“I got a new job, as a photographer journalist, no real experience required just my luck honestly,” you awkwardly laughed, “August um, he’s supposedly up to no good and I thought I could have a jab at him from a professional angle…”

You sat yourself in the recliner, while you invited him to sit opposite of you on the couch where he’d be able to properly look at all the photos.

He looked frightfully tired. His hair was dishevelled, and his shirt was stain with sweat. He had a nasty purple bruise on his knuckles that also matched the one under his eye.

You lifted your knees to your chest and worried about how much trouble this man was getting into as well as you. You wondered if it was like television shows where detectives mostly focus on the darkside of the force.

You gestured to the photos. You weren’t sure how he would react. He sat on the couch and peered across the coffee table, glancing over the images. It took him a few seconds before a gasp of shock ripped from his throat.

You tapped on the photos where you’d been stalked and seen taking photos of August, “Well, it shows he’s not one to have his photos taken...”

He was shaking his head. He couldn’t stop staring at the nude photos. And for a few seconds you relived that feeling of embarrassed humiliation.

You could see how his throat bobbed and his eyes flutter.

He leant forward on his knees and licked his lips.

“I...and here I had called you to check up on you and I was going to ask you for help Y/N, but god I don’t know if that’s gonna work now,” he sighed.

The detective ran a finger across your face in the lewd photos.

Your eyes narrowed, “Wh-what do you mean?”

There was a lengthy pause.

He chewed the inside of his cheek before asking, “How much do you hate what August did to you?”

You didn’t hesitate, “I’d kill him for what he’s done if I knew I wouldn’t go to prison…” you briefly looked down, “He…he came back like you said...”

Lloyd eyes glanced down too and he sighed, “Thought as much…let me guess…he threatened you?”

Your eyes fluttered closed, August had done more than just threaten you.

You nodded slowly, “He…he did…but he…is possessive, he kept saying I was his and I belong to him.” You pointed to the photo of you taped up on the recliner.

His brows pressed together, his eyes saddened. He clear his throat, “How long ago was that?”

Your mouth grew dry. You felt embarrassed telling Lloyd.

“The day of the report, after you brought me home.”

His eyes widened, his hand rubbed his parted lips, “So he ugh…he was here already?”

You nodded again, “The call you made… he was standing right here with a knife in his hand.”

“That’s why you have those deadbolts huh?” The officer rubbed his eyes and groaned, “Fuck. I’m so sorry. Why didn’t you call me after he left? I could’ve moved you, you could’ve stayed with me at least until I could put you into witness protection. Fuck!”

His swearing sent a shiver down your spine.

Your looked at your feet, you knew he wasn’t victim blaming, he just didn’t understand. You told Lloyd everything…confessed like he was your priest. You told him what August did with the vibrator despite it bringing you to tears again. You told him he was the new landlord and that’s why you installed the extra locks. You told him about your new job and you told him about the photos and how you were going to help however you could to put the bastard away.

You sat off the recliner and slid the photos back into the envelope.

“You’re very brave Y/N,” Lloyd whispered, he reached out and laid his warm hand on top of yours.

Your belly felt warm at the praise. You let him hold your fingers in his and rubbed his thumb over your skin. You stared at his blonde moustache and those bright clue eyes of his. You imagined his mouth scratching your lip if you only leant in closer...he was still as handsome as the day he patiently listened to you in the report.

Lloyd smiled softly.

God if you were a cat you would’ve been feral and in heat with how creative your imagination was getting.

Your eyes fluttered as your entire body warmed up.

“Y-You said you needed help with something?”

He smirked, letting go of your hand.

He claimed, “After what you’ve told me I’m confident you can do it...but you might not like it…”

“Try me,” you huffed, falling victim to his contagious grin.

“I have two tickets to August’s little Soiree at his club The Lions Lounge,” He started off, “My other sources have confirmed there is going to be some form of arms deal with some unsavoury company, illegal, unregistered weapons. August Walker is very good at knowing the law and requesting a warrant… but the sources I have are not substantial to the board to guarantee a warrant by that night and by that time Walker would’ve moved the weapons and sold them in a different location.”

You pieced it bit by bit.

“So you need to get inside the party, find the deal going down and bust them?”

“Exactly, that’s right! However the moment a single man waltzes to the front door it looks suspicious. I need a lady on the arm…and better yet…I need a distraction for Walker, if he sees me head on, I could be as good a shark chow.”

Your eyes lit up, it didn’t take a genius to realise he meant you. You would be the distraction. And you’d be damned before you put yourself in real danger again especially after the threat August had given you...your photos were taken in public, this would be in private. Anything could happen to you.

“No… that is too dangerous, Lloyd,” You stood up and paced the floor in front of Lloyd who was now also rising to follow you in your pacing. You walked around your kitchen and Lloyd put his hands on the bench beside you.

“Y/N…” he bent close in a whisper. You wouldn’t look at the detective. Fear was buzzing inside of you. You felt stupid about saying you’d do anything to take August Walker down now. You really wanted to just humiliate the man and call him up in prison one day and rub it in his face. But this? This was a game of cat and mouse and you didn’t want to be backed up into a corner again.

“I wouldn’t be asking you if this unless I had to...”

You bit back the whimper in your throat as Lloyd touched your shoulder gently.

“He let you live…he has a soft spot for you.”

‘He threatened to put me down.’

He turned you around and squeezed your arms while he pitched the plan, “What’ll happen is we enter the club, I find the dealers and you find Walker because he will be hosting the party, he will want to know why you’re there and you are going to tell him that…you wanted to see him.”

You rubbed your eyes angrily, “Why the fuck would I want to see him?!” your fingers felt moist, you’d been compelled to tears.

The kind eyed detective sucked his teeth, “I don’t know, make it up. Kiss him. Men don’t care about a thing once a pretty thing is kissing them.”

You rolled your eyes and shook your head. No, this wasn’t the Lloyd you had imagined.

“Oh,” you chuckled sourly, “So you’re pimping me out then?”

He gave you a dumbfounded look, “Call it whatever you want…you’ll be paid good money for your service and he’ll be arrested, in prison, unable to touch you. You can run away and move to wherever you want then.”

Your breath was shaky as you dared to ask, “How much?”

His left brow rose.

“How much would I be paid by the Queensland police or Australian defence department or whoever this is through?”

He sighed and gently laid a hand on your shoulder, “Around fifteen grand.”

Your breath escaped you. From near negatives to fifteen grand overnight? That much? For this job?! You were stunned…not sure if it was worth your life…but if it meant he only humiliate you one more time and you walked away with that much money…you’d do it.

You shook your head, “Fine, it’s this Friday night yea? His club is high-class and I don’t have clothes for that type of event.”

The tall man stood back and chuckled as he tug into his back pocket and retrieved his wallet. He pinched a wad of cash and slapped it in the benchtop. Your eyes widened, holy fuck it was a month or two in rent alone…

“Go buy some. But you have got to be ready. At Seven o’clock I’ll pick you up an hour before the event and we can refresh what we know before we line up.”

You glanced between him and the money and nodded….”Alright, let’s…let’s do this.”

He laughed and clapped his hand excitedly, he leant in and gave you a fat kiss on the cheek. Nothing romantic, just pure joy.

“Thankyou so much Y/N you are going to be hailed a hero, a legend in my books!” He marched back to the couch and grabbed his blazer.

“You are a special person and I’m honoured to have met you! Really honoured!” He said as he unlocked all your bolts. He swung the door open and slammed it behind him.

You sighed and fell back against your cold fridge.

You weren’t sure you could pull this off….but as your eyes looked over the cash, the corner of your lips lifted.

You shut your eyes and sighed…all that money, it made your blood pulse. You returned to the lounge room and sat in the recliner. You laid back, staring at the ceiling. Your hands crawled down, passed the waist band of your pyjama shorts and underwear. You touched yourself and sighed.

Your fingers rubbed delicately against your clit while you leant against the kitchen bench.

You tried to imagine someone...Lloyd…the detective. He had a warmth his face. Lloyd would never rape you though, he was good, he was honest…

You moaned softly, imagining his warm hands groping your skin and his lips kissing your skin.

Fingering yourself, in and out, in and out.

You were imagining Lloyd speaking to you. He was currently the most attractive man you’d made contact with in weeks...other than August who essentially raped you.

What kind words would Lloyd say? “I washed our clothes, finished the dishes, now come here and let me fuck you.” ‘Oh yea that’s fucking hot.’

You imagined he would be gentle and soft before using more strength in his hips. His lips would be soft and hot. He would protect you and play sexy policeman. You might not have been a fan of the justice system but you were confident Lloyd would fill in a police uniform very well.

So why did your body start to dry up?

You didn’t know what you were doing wrong. You were riding your fingers and teasing your clit…why couldn’t you cum? You felt weird doing this now. It was strange to think before you met August you could cum very easily, after your dad- well you hadn’t touched yourself because you weren’t thinking about sex for a while until the millionaire stepped into your life.

After the third time of unsuccessful release, you punched the arm of the chair and started searching sex toys on your phone.

You weren’t totally sure if the prices were worth it for a piece of painted pink silicone. And there were strange shapes you were amazed were even designed to fit into a human….‘a whole fist? Surely that’s satire,’ you thought, ‘it shouldn’t be possible. It would be like reverse birth?’

You settled on buying a “rabbit dildo with thrusting pleasure.” You rolled your eyes at the name. You slapped your phone down and sighed, rubbing your eyes.

The hour was late.

Your first paycheck would be coming in soon. It was the smell of a small victory.

10:33am Friday 16th August 2024, Queen Street Westfield Shopping centre, Brisbane.

“What should I wear…” you hummed as you flipped through the dresses. Some of these dresses cost the amount of a new iPhone. You bit your lip. ‘Maybe I can return them tomorrow and give Lloyd his money back?’

A sales clerk came up, “Need some help?” She was blonde, curvy and tall. A supermodel compared to your body. You blushed.

“I’m looking to wear something to one of the high end clubs like The Lion Lounge, he’s having a nineteen twenties theme soiree this evening?”

Her lips widened, “Well, we do have many suitable gowns and even pantsuits for that social class, what designer were you thinking?”

You balked and worried that she would see you sweat, “Oh…I um…I’ll be super frank…I have not a clue what I’m doing…it is my first time to something so spectacular.”

The clerk’s eyes softened, her lips pursed, “Well! Let me help you then! These gowns you’re looking at are definitely not old twenties glam worthy! Right this way!”

Your cheeks buzzed as you were led into a dressing room and made to try on multiple styles, designers and colours of dresses.

She asked if you were getting your nails done and gasped when you said you hadn’t thought about it.

She was like a fairy godmother. She went the extra mile to call up the other stores in the mall to book appointments. You hadn’t felt so pretty ever in your life until then

She appeared stunned by the cash you laid on her counter.

Your nails were french tips with a holographic clear coat. You received a quick arm and leg wax and eyebrow shaping. The makeup matched the entire outfit. Your dress clung to your best assets and shaped your body with a clutch purse and low heels to match. Your hair was gelled and hairsprayed down into finger waves. And a lather of pearls circled around your throat and wrists.

The long finger of your dress tickled your calfs down to your small kitten heels.

You looked incredible, it took your breath away to see the glow up….

Lloyd thought so too.

HELPLINES:

If you are a victim of sexual abuse, assault or domestic violence or know someone who is please reach out to these links that share helpline services, phone numbers or emails. Consent and respect is important in every relationship whether between friends, family or even strangers. .

Australian Helpline Services

UK Helpline Services

American Helpline Services

India Helpline Services.

102 notes · View notes

since-im-already-here · 8 months

Text

'Permit me to remind you'

Klahadore drabble

(Image Source: https://woka.com.ar/?s=captain-kuro-by-@tsuyomaru-one-piece-pictures-one-piece-qq-3Go3Y0Ua)

Word Count: 2,005

The night began as the sun bid farewell to the sky and greeted the stars with familiarity, deeming it an appropriate time to get into bed with a nice warm drink and cosy pillows, which is exactly what you were doing for the young lady Kaya. Reaching for the scorching pot of tea, you pour her a small teacup and bring them over to the newly tucked in and settled Kaya as she reclines against her cushions.

“Klahadore is insistent that I ensure you drink your remedy, my lady. I hope the flavour has improved with the small amount of honey I've added. A little sweetness goes a long way,” you directed her, she nodded and gave a small apprehensive smile. Her illness was depicted in her pale face, hollowed eyes and the dryness of her mouth. You returned her smile before reaching behind your back and collecting a few of the sugar-coated treats you had managed to swipe from the kitchen without the staff noticing. With a sly smile, you offered them to her,

“Speaking of sweetness, I stole some biscuits from the kitchen stash for you,” you gave her a small wink, offering a final hushed command of, “Don’t tell Klahadore.”

Kaya begins to giggle at your comment, but immediately slips into a sinister and dry coughing fit, prompting you to reach behind her and pull her into a more upright position to clear her airway as she finishes her collection of raspy, dry breaths. You wince as she coughs into her hands, offering her your handkerchief you keep tucked within your sleeve to collect her illness parting from her lips within.

“I don’t feel well enough to drink right now. I just want to sleep, please?” Kaya wheezes through her words. From hearing her shaken breath and dry wheeze, you decide that, just for tonight, she can skip her remedy. You place the tea and the biscuits back onto the tray you brought them in, ready to face the disapproving tone and glare of the chief of staff. The same chief of staff that you, two nights ago, shared in an interesting experience with.

It seemed all it took for the both of you, was a bottle of sticky-sweet port wine shared in the afterhours of a particularly long day of tending to your duties as lady’s maid to the young Lady Kaya. Once the staff bid you both goodnight for the evening with a curt nod and a small, polite smile; a small glass of wine shared between two leaders of staff was followed by another. And then another.

As our memory drew into a small haze, you walked throughout the halls with the full tray clutched firmly in your hands. You were unable to recall the moment from when you had finished the last of the sweet wine to having your arms draped around the neck of your raven-haired coworker.

Your lips pushing against each other, gasping for breaths as your limbs entangled in the wine cellar against the racking barrels as they syphoned the crimson liquid into the barrels below. This was not how you expected the night to progress; but the two of you had many moments you could’ve considered flirtatious leading into the evening’s event.

Closing your eyes now; you could still feel his breath fan against your neck as you controlled your verbal gasps and whimpers against each other’s flesh as your bodies joined at the lips. You could still feel his hair falling onto your forehead as he drew away from your neck to gaze longingly into your eyes. The awkward feeling of his glasses inching down his nose and falling onto your face. You remember feeling his hand remove itself from your hips, your jaw falling slack as you witnessed him press his inner palm against his glasses to redraw them atop his nose, only to then force it way under your shirt to grasp your hip again - the warmth of his gloved hands welcome against your flesh.

You knew it was not becoming of a lady to join in entangling yourself with a gentleman in such a way, especially in a place as exposed as a wine cellar. This was not your first dalliance with a man, but it was your first with a colleague.

Reopening your eyes, you attempt once more to rid your thoughts of their waves of memory, the warm feeling of anxiety and loss of control clawing their way from your chest to your jugular; discomfort clutching at your lips and souring the flavour.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“We need to stop,” you whispered in between his bruising kisses atop your lips, “someone could hear. Someone could-.” Your words were syphoned into the mouth of your lover in a similar likeness to the barrels racking beside you.

“Just a little more,” as he pressed his lips into your neck, tongue swirling at the pulse and feeling the elevation in your heartbeat. “Please, darling. Just-...” He trailed a flurry of exuberant oscillations of his smooth lips against your jaw to your cheek, “-Please.”

He began losing himself in the feeling of your body wrapped around his, your arms around his shoulders and his own raking over your hips to grasp the flesh of your back in a desperate clawing motion to clutch you closer. Another kiss was shared in a long and drawn out caress, followed by another. Then another. The stagger and rapidity of his kisses did nothing to deter the intended silence being met in the air; your whimpers painting the atmosphere with their melodic serenade.

“Klah-’’ you squeaked, another attempt to steer his passionate kiss to a halt being met with no reaction. This verbal warning didn’t seem to sway him in the slightest. It almost seemed like his name meant nothing to him in the heat of the moment.

It wasn't until footsteps were heard that it broke him from continuing to chase the feeling of your lips against his own in exuberate moments. At the rise and fall of pattered footsteps against the cement floor, heels clicking and echoing within the chamber as they made their approach. The fear of being caught by his colleagues was all too much for both of you; yet you were still entangled within each other’s arms as stiff as the portraits painted above the cellar walls. As they retrieved a bottle of wine, they left the cellar with their heavy-laden footsteps trailing behind them in tow.

You both breathed a small sigh of relief as the cellar door closed behind the unsuspecting coworker, your smile breaking against your lips as he turned back to face you again. His eyes softened when his gaze met with yours seeming to, just now, remember that you both were working. He leant forward to rest his forehead against your own, the glasses again falling from the top of his nose down to the tip and brushed against the tip of your nose.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Lost within the spiral of your own thoughts, you start to wonder if it was just one night to him. Did it mean as little to him as he made it out to be? There was no whisper of a word or a murmur to inform you of anything other than the sort. No acknowledgement of the event even occurring the following day as you fell into the rhythm of working together in perfect synchrony.

Continuing to the kitchen, you set down the full tray of hot blue tea and stolen biscuits against the sink to prepare disassembling the arrangement meant to be presented to the lady under your charge. At eyeing the sugary treats atop the porcelain tray, your anxiety begins to elevate with the rapidity of your heartbeat that you did, indeed, steal those biscuits to bring to Lady Kaya from the pantry. And you did, indeed, bring the full tray back down to the kitchen, knowing full well that Klahadore would be less than pleased that Kaya did not drink her remedy that night.

Hearing the barely audible tap of soft shoes upon the kitchen floor causes you to briefly halt your disassembly of items, retracting your hand from the handle of the teapot you had begun to pour down the sink. Resetting it upon the tray, you rotated your neck to rid it of the small click within before narrowing your eyes and curling your lip.

“Why is the tea here?” the smooth voice purred from behind you, “She needs to have her tea daily, Dear. And biscuits? You know better than-.” His voice halted as you thumped your palms first on the kitchen counter before turning to face him.

“Klahaore, I don’t know better. I know best,” you challenged him, your brows decreasing their position on your forehead, “A simple biscuit will not cause her harm, and we both know she needs something in stomach or she’ll feel sick from the tea as it hits it.” You stepped closer to him, raising your chin to glare into his eyes. His jaw slackened slightly, his breath hitching at your verbal challenge and the proximity you drew yourself within.

After several unspoken and silent moments pass between you, he clears his throat and readjusts his glasses with the heel of his palm. His mouth begins to open to begin another order towards you, only to halt at your next interruption.

“If that will be all, I shall take my leave for the night,” you rotated your shoulders, standing firm in your upright and formal posture and awaiting dismissal from your superior. Klahadore furrowed his brows, not truly understanding where this animosity and surliness had come from.

"See me in my office," he ordered, stepping closer to your body. You stepped back from his approach, unbreaking in your defiant expression nor the rigidity in your posture.

“My working hours begin between the time my lady rises in the morning, and concludes once she is settled for the night,” you quipped in return, “If I am to be required to attend a meeting with my superior, I will do so in the hours I am employed within.”

"I am giving you an order, darling. You will come to my office now," he informed you, his tone strong and low. He stepped towards you once more, which you followed by stepping back to keep yourself an arms length away.

"And I am saying I will not," you smirked in return. His eyes darkened, his jaw tensing behind his pursed lips.

With that small smirk, you begin to push yourself past him, only for him to grab your wrist firmly and pull you against his torso. Your eyes fill with disdain as you glance up at him, though you imagine it isn't too threatening with your cheeks flushed with the contact he was providing to you. He holds you wordlessly, staring down into your eyes with a final warning-look.

“Sir,” you spat, looking down to the position his hand was remaining circling your wrist within, before floating your gaze back up to his spectacles framing his dark eyes. He breaks from gripping your wrist and hovers his hand to the side of your face, almost brushing the heel of his palm against your cheek in a gentle caress.

“We need to discuss what happened in the wine cellar,” he whispered in such a low and intimate purr of his voice, it prompted your cheeks to flush with further warmth than the initial contact of his grasp on your hand. You gulped back your collected saliva in your mouth, darting your gaze between his eyes.

“And what happened in the wine cellar, Klahadore?” you feigned your ignorance, recollecting the exact moment he was referring to but choosing to play coy with a smirk threatening to find residency back atop your lips.

His lips ticked up to the left hand side of his lips as he stooped lower to your face, whispering gently in another purred tone.

“My darling, permit me to remind you.”

Apprehensive tag list @fanaticsnail @writingmysanity @sordidmusings

#klahadore x reader #kuro x reader #x reader #op x reader #opla #opla fic #op kuro #op klahadore #captain kuro x reader #captain kuro #black cat kuro #one piece #one piece fic

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f1-stuff · 1 month

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Hi 🩵 Can we know more about the Regency AU? 👀 (I love your work 🩷)

Hiii! ❤️ Big fan of you, as well! 😆

S0 my idea for that AU is that the Leclerc family comes to stay with the Sainz's for the social season, hoping that one or more of the boys will find a match with Carlos' sisters. But insteeaaddd...😅 I have a distinct image of Charles, with his eclectic regency fashion sense that sets him apart from his brothers, boldly wooing Carlos, despite period-typical attitudes. And the two of them spending the society balls flirting and joking with each other instead of mingling with the eligible ladies...

Anyway, this snippet is from the very beginning of the fic, and it's actually a carlando (friendship) scene, which I never thought I'd write asfhgfjs. But I felt like it was a cute idea, Lando being a recurring guest of the Sainz's every year. In this scene, Carlos is complaining about the Leclercs' impending arrival...

If Carlos has to listen to one more recounting of the handsome, dignified, witty, admired, magnificent Leclercs, he might be forced to hurl himself into the sea.

“Particular favorites of the Prince of Monaco, and distinct in both societal standing and countenance, the whole lot of them. You’d be hard pressed to determine which of the three is most agreeable to the eye or to the ear,” Carlos performs a rather poor imitation of his aunt’s voice, who had prattled on for hours and hours to his mother these past days.

Lando snickers, idly snapping a twig in his hand into small bits and pieces that he tosses to the side as they walk along the banks of the creek. “They sound insufferable.”

“Doubtless,” Carlos mutters, kicking rocks out of their path. “I’d wager they won’t even know Spanish.”

Not that Lando does either. The comment has the added benefit of being both a criticism of the Leclercs and a method to tease his friend. Carlos knocks their shoulders together.

It’s a perfect spring day, the sun shining and the breeze swirling bits of pollen through the air, carrying the scent of new growth. The perfect day for a walk, which he’d muscled Lando into agreeing to, despite the younger man’s confusing attachment to the indoors.

They stop for a moment to appreciate the view of the far off mountains, the sea just visible on the horizon, glittering against the sun. Carlos can feel his sour mood lifting already, such is the magic of his family’s estate.

“One wonders why these Leclerc men are still unwed, and why they need someone to sing their praises so exhaustingly prior to their arriving. Unless their real company leaves much to be desired,” he continues, although his heart isn’t in the complaining anymore. He’d much rather find a spot to lay in the grass and feel the sun soak into his skin. So he does just that.

Lando follows suit, curling his legs underneath him as Carlos reclines onto the grass, rolling up his sleeves and shutting his eyes against the sun.

“But why are the Leclercs coming here for the social season? Why not France or Monaco, if they are indeed favorites of the prince? Or England?”

“Not everyone wishes to go to England,” Carlos teases, just to hear Lando’s scoff. Truthfully, he has half a desire to go to London himself. But he mostly says it as Lando always acts affronted when insults are piled atop his country’s name. “Isn’t it obvious?” Lando arches a brow. “Marriage, mi amigo. It’s the reason for everything. Well, most everything.”

“Oh, that.”

“Yes, that,” Carlos chuckles, pinching Lando’s arm.

“Ow.”

“Oh, shut up. Anyway. Just because you are still a slight, wide-eyed fawn-”

“I am nineteen!” Lando exclaims, but joins Carlos in his laughter soon enough. Nineteen or not, his boyish curls, along with the spots still dusting his skin, make him look every bit as young as he is. “If I am a fawn, then you are a buck. Surely, you ought to be wedded soon, before you are old and bitter. Well, older and more bitter.”

“Ha ha,” Carlos says, deadpan. “We should have been forewarned of your wit.”

But Lando isn’t entirely wrong. Carlos had just celebrated his twenty-fourth birthday this past September, and he’s getting to the age where his parents might not be so patient anymore in entertaining his hypercritical standards, eager as they are for him to sire an heir.

It isn’t that he hasn’t become acquainted with plenty of eligible women at various balls and dinner parties during the social season over the years - he has. But no matter how lovely they seem, he always finds himself stalling when it comes to the actual proposal, something stopping him from making that final commitment. Until, eventually, another suitor steps up and whisks her out from under Carlos’ nose. And, every time, it doesn’t escape him that the prevailing emotion is relief.

When it comes to the woman he will marry, the woman he will spend his life with, he wants someone pretty, kind, and smart. Someone charming and witty and clever and interesting. And he isn’t keen to settle for less. At least, that’s what he tells himself.

Sometimes, he even blames himself. I’m too loud for her. I’m not artistic enough for her. I’m too independent for her. Et cetera, et cetera... But, mostly, boiling down to: I’m just too picky.

Still, no matter that he will eventually need to wed, he is set to inherit his father’s lands and estate, so there isn’t much of a rush to send him to the altar. His sisters, however - particularly his eldest sister, Blanca, who is almost as picky as himself. She doesn’t seem overly concerned with the wealth and status of a partner, despite the high ranking men their parents are always parading her in front of. But she does expect an honorable sort of man, and, above all, kind, which Carlos cannot fault her for. She deserves the very best this world can offer her, and he fears no man will be enough in his eyes to deserve her.

With the youngest of the Sainz siblings, Ana, her lack of husband as of yet is more a case of her preferring her independence than ‘pickiness’. She often elects to read a good book or ride her horse or go for a swim, rather than practice dancing or attend a ball. It hadn’t been much cause for concern until she had debuted into society a few seasons ago and had refused any offers she’d received since.

During their childhood, he would always include Ana (and Blanca, until she had started her schooling) in his games and competitions with his friends, pulling her away from time with their sister and mother. He doesn’t regret the fun adventures it had led to growing up, or their particular bond. But it occurs to him from time-to-time that he could be, in some way, to blame for Ana’s convictions.

If it were up to him, he’d have both his sisters stay with him at the estate forever. But it isn’t how things are done. And he doubts they’d be completely happy here either, longing for something more beyond this country life that Carlos so adores.

“Anyway,” he continues. “I hardly need concern myself with such frivolous matters as marriage.”

“What - you have less frivolous matters that require your attention?” Lando asks.

“No - more. Like bathing in the sun and exchanging gossip with my dear friend.” He winks, and Lando just shakes his head with a smile. “If I had a wife, we’d have no time for our walks, or our little competitions, during your visits each year. And that would be a real shame.”

“Says the man who always wins those games.”

Carlos snickers. “Well, if either of my sisters really do marry one of these Leclerc chaps, I might have to let him win. Once, at least, as a gesture of goodwill.”

“You really think they would? Marry, I mean.”

“If they seem a good match...” He shrugs. It is, after all, the whole intention behind the arranged visit.

His aunt and uncle had met the Leclercs on a recent trip to Monaco, where they had expressed interest in visiting Spain and exploring the social scene there. His aunt and uncle had invited them to their home in Madrid, but when Carlos’ parents had heard about it, they’d insisted the Leclercs come to stay with them for at least a few weeks this summer. Carlos doubts the Leclercs had a country estate in mind for their visit to Spain, but perhaps the humble parties they host out here will charm them.

“Well, I don’t know why you sound so reluctant,” Lando continues. “You make friends with practically every person you meet. And for all you know, maybe these Leclercs will live up to the talk.”

“Maybe...”

But Carlos has his doubts. How interesting could they really be?

He drops the topic for now, preferring instead to tug at the soft blades of grass beneath his fingertips and muse over what will be served for lunch.

----

WIP ask game

#I started writing this one before the Victorian abo one #So it's sort of been on the backburner for a minute #but I want to get back into it #there's a cute scene of Carlos teaching Charles billiards.....#also people asking about the kid fic -> I am not ignoring you! Just trying to find a time to write!#charlos #WIP ask game #f1amboyant #ask #rpf #regency au

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smuttysabina · 1 year

Text

Lessons on Impregnation with Jihyo

(Jihyo x Idols x Fans, 4.6k words) Tags: Breeding, Fat Juicy Creampies, Some Lesbian Action, Even More Breeding, Pseudo-Science Regarding Idol Breeding, Preggo Jihyo, Mass Fucking, Blowjobs, Tittyfucking, Anal, Some Bizarre Sexual Techniques, I Dont Think Enough of These Girls are on Birth Control

Idle chatter fills the air, rebounding off the walls until the room is a cacophony of noise. Idols from three generations of Kpop cram themselves into the space before the podium, occupying a plethora of clashing furniture scrounged up from throughout the building to seat them all. All of the girls eager to hear what the host of the main event would have to say; the woman who had been a pioneer in idol breeding for years, Jihyo. It had long been an ill-kept secret that idols often had... difficulties when attempting to conceive children, many had even used this to their advantage when leading highly hedonistic lifestyles. But when the time came to settle down, problems would ensue, that would often only be solved with the passing of time. Until of course, that great matriarch Jihyo made her breakthrough and had gotten enormously pregnant; while still an active idol no less! And now she is hosting a class, open to any idols who would be interested in learning her secrets; and the resulting audience is nearly bursting through doors in their enthusiasm. Almost all of the 4th Gen girl groups are in attendance, with a smattering of 3rd Gen girls as well. Of course, those too young for the... hands-on training portion had been discretely shunted into a separate break room filled with snacks and games; though they had been given a bland, if rather informative, printout detailing sexual matters. Jihyo was a keen proponent of forthright sexual education.

Jihyo beams as she enters through a door behind the podium, surveying the packed crowd with maternal pride; so many had shown up! Nayeon hurries over to update Jihyo, idly rubbing at her stomach that was already starting to swell up with the first signs of pregnancy. Jihyo touches her own bloated belly in sympathy, she was so proud to see Twice starting to follow in her footsteps and embrace motherhood! The other members were spread throughout the audience, and what an audience it was! The voracious sluts of Itzy lounge next to the preening, spoiled brats of Ive; the languid free-use members of Le Sserafim reclining near the perverse whores of Everglow. The entirety of Loona is in attendance, looking exhausted from the fans' fanatical lovemaking. The shy newcomers of New Jeans mixing freely with NMIXX and a rather haggard looking Kep1er; all of them keeping in a tight pack with other young groups as they warily observe their seniors. Aespa relax nearby, recently returned from their scandalous stay at some rich fop's mansion; the girls seemed to be in good spirits, so evidently they had not been subjected to anything too depraved. The outspoken femdomists of G-Idle prattle happily with Mamamoo, who eye the other group with something a bit more than casual interest... Jihyo's dear friend Lisa had even deigned to show up, though that sex goddess was unlikely to be impregnated any time soon. Dozens of other groups occupy the throng, from the new and lascivious ladies from Kiss of Life, to the more mature seductresses of Dreamcatcher; even the soloists had joined their brethren. All gathered together to learn how exactly they would be able to fill their bellies with a child (and enjoy some pants-down learning).

After a soft cough into the microphone, Jihyo gently, but firmly shushes the assembled audience until the din has quieted to a more tolerable level. Now that she has their mostly undivided attention, she calmly begins her presentation after introducing herself; and giving a little background information about her crusade for motherhood. Then Jihyo gets into the meat of the matter; due to the rigors of their training, idols commonly have a decline in fertility due to an increased difficulty in sperm penetration in female subjects. Male subjects' sperm suffers accordingly as well, allowing them to freely creampie hundreds of squealing fangirls without the worry of dealing with dozens of alimony requests. Mutters of agreement arise from the crowd, many of them had friends from the 2nd and 3rd generations who still dealt with such issues. But, through meticulous testing, Jihyo had discovered a solution to the problem; at least for the ladies. A video of her Impregnation Event flickers to life on the screen behind Jihyo, as she smoothly narrates the experiment; as well as the obvious results of her findings. The audience murmurs as they watch the recording of Jihyo getting mounted by scores, and then hundreds of adoring fans; until her sex is literally gushing with turgid semen. Jihyo joyously declares that quantity was the solution, they simply required a much greater volume of sperm to weaken the egg's shell enough for impregnation to occur!

The audience breaks out in excited chattering as they take in this news, their reactions running the gamut of emotions, from happiness to confusion to disgust to anger. Once the din has died down enough, Lisa lazily raises her arm to indicate that she has a question. Jihyo nods at her friend in permission, and Lisa smoothly rises to her feet.

"If quantity was all that matters, then why am I not pregnant? Why is Jennie or Yeji or Hwasa or any other of the more," she licks her lips, "needy girls not pumping out babies like mad? All of us fuck like rabbits, and we aren't pregnant; so how does this help? Do we just need to fuck ten thousand guys and hope that there will be enough jizz pumped into us to knock us up for once?"

Jihyo nods enthusiastically at her friend's complaint as the crowd mutters, explaining that while being bred by uncountable fans does have its appeal, there are other factors to consider as well. The quality of the load was as important as its amount, there was no point in forcing out watery loads devoid of sperm! The idols' lovers had to be milked thoroughly, lovingly pleasured until their ejaculations were so thick with sperm that they were like yogurt! Of course, such love-making could be... difficult to undertake, so Jihyo had devised an expansive breeding lesson to teach the girls how best to undertake such activities. Lisa cocks her head at Jihyo's response, a playful smile upon her lips; and Jihyo knows that while the nymphomaniac is not entirely convinced, she will assent to her plan. After waiting for a few moments, to see if anyone else had any questions, Jihyo takes a breath to announce the next portion of her seminar when she notices a thin arm shyly wiggling from the herd of newer girls. She squints to figure out who exactly the limb belongs to (the girls are cuddled up in an almost indistinguishable puddle), before she finally recognizes its owner and encourages her to speak.

Trembling slightly, the nubile Danielle of New Jeans hesitantly asks, "But what if... they um- love you a lot and... their c-cum is special?" The older girls in the audience sigh at such a romantic notion, some of them eyeing the floor sorrowfully as they remember past failures. Jihyo though responds with the utmost kindness, gently informing Danielle that while in some cases people may be more... compatible, it was rare, and should not be relied upon. Judging by the girl's expression, she still had confidence in finding her one true love, but Jihyo was not cruel enough to destroy her hopes. After all, love was such a enjoyable state to be in...

Clapping her hands to dispel the sudden heavy mood, Jihyo cheerfully announces that the next, and most exciting, portion of her presentation was about to begin. Pressing a button on her lectern, evenly spaced holes at waist-height in the wall begin to hiss open; the hubbub of eager conversation emanating from the space behind them. The younger idols stare at the portals with benign curiosity, while their more experienced peers are already biting their lips in recognition. Cocks, of all shapes and sizes, rigidly hard and shyly flaccid, are shoved through the holes; eliciting a chorus of squeals and laughter from the assembled idols. Jihyo happily starts directing the groups towards their designated testing areas, informing them all that members of Twice would rotate through to teach them the best methods of breeding. The...material provided was pre-sorted so that only the groups' most fervent fans would be the ones unloading their sticky love for their idols. Jihyo gives the girls some time to settle in and relax, the more inexperienced ones may never have used glory holes before! She feels herself dripping slightly at the thought of such beautiful idols all getting impregnated together... pregnancy truly does rev a woman's sex drive.

Jihyo prowls for a time, slowly making a circuit through the rim of the room, greeting each group as she strolls past them; enjoying the sight of their lovemaking. Through her unhurried observation, she is able to pick out the most notable members who required her direct attentions; some issues were too complex for the rest of Twice to handle. But first of course, Jihyo stops to visit her voracious darlings, her beloved Itzy; who are naturally making an absolute mess of their fans. Yeji viciously draining cock after cock, Lia warbling about perversions as she gets fucked, Ryujin panting in heat as she watches the others, Yuna squealing with sickening love as she falls for every new fan, and dear Chaeryeong quietly enjoying herself to the side. Jihyo knows just the trick to settle her rambunctious girls! Chaery receives naught but a loving kiss, Yuna is adroitly handcuffed to the wall to reduce her frenzied attentions, Ryujin is given a thorough spanking for being so naughty (she squirts multiple times from this), Lia is soothed to allow her fans more regular thrusts inside of her, and Yeji... Yeji gets her cunt fisted until her burning lusts are somewhat slaked; she really must be more considerate towards her lovers if she wants to milk out a load potent enough to inseminate her! Leaving her favorites suitably adjusted, Jihyo merrily continues her journey, confident that Itzy would be practicing their imminent impregnations more carefully now.

Next along her route is Loona, reunited once more in carnal activity, their section of wall a cacophony of fierce fucking. Jihyo notes with pride their positioning and techniques, all of them instinctively moving their bodies to milk the largest loads possible out of their fans. The girls do appear exhausted however, each of them flushed and whining from the forcefulness of their fans' love; even by idol standards they were taking a solid pounding. Jihyo pauses, intrigued, crouching by Yves's quivering waist as her latest lover pulls out of her clogged pussy. She samples what little seed leaks out of the girl, roiling it in her mouth as she tests its potency; her eyebrows raising in bemusement. Judging by the impeccable quality of the cum getting pumped inside of Loona, Jihyo is surprised that the twelve of them have not been popping out babies for years now. So she puts Haseul to a purring interrogation, and between jerky gasps is informed that Loona had been on birth control for years; and that even then many of them had gotten pregnant anyways and had been forced to give birth in secret... Jihyo pats Loona's leader sympathetically, hopefully with the changes in public opinion all of Loona would be getting knocked up soon, and be telling their fans of the joyous rewards of all their hard work! Haseul's response to this stirring encouragement is hard to judge, as she gets creampied while Jihyo is in the middle of speaking. She drools as the semen is forced into her womb, clutching at Jihyo as her ovulating pussy is swamped once more with Orbit jizz. Jihyo sighs with pleasure at the sight, lovingly hugging the girl's head against her breasts; it's obvious that somebody's birth control is also simply not up to the task...

After the delightful experience of watching Haseul getting knocked up, Jihyo is greeted with the altogether less enjoyable view of Everglow in action. Of the six, only Mia seems to be properly fucking her fans; Onda and Yiren appear utterly indifferent to their fans' affections, while Aisha and Sihyeon are having great difficulty in coaxing their lovers to orgasm, meanwhile E:U is apparently being used as a urinal. Choosing to ignore the perverted disaster that is Everglow's former leader, Jihyo instead decides to focus on the two pillow princesses first. Her fingers skillfully tease and touch Onda and Yiren, slowly building up the lust within them before more directly stroking at their pussies. Jihyo soon has the pair gasping and moaning, eagerly impaling themselves on their fans' cocks as they greedily pleasure themselves. Licking her fingers clean, Jihyo nods in satisfaction before turning her attentions to the other two standouts; she blissfully chooses to ignore the fact that Mia is now currently pissing on E:U while getting fucked. She frowns as she inspects Aisha and Sihyeon, noting the loose grip their holes have on their lover's shafts. Upon deeper inspection, wrist-deep, that is, Jihyo comes to the unfortunate conclusion that both of the girls' pussies were utterly blown out from overuse; drastic measures were required. After giving the two some detailed instructions on tightening exercises to perform, Jihyo quickly moves on to more extreme techniques. She teaches the two perverts (a touch unfair in Sihyeon's case) the bizarre art of womb-fucking; which Aisha takes to with sultry gusto, and Sihyeon with desperate energy. Satisfied that the pair were now milking their fans' cocks more swiftly, Jihyo calmly steps over the blubbering form of E:U as she lays quivering in a puddle of filth. With an ex-leader like her, it was no wonder Everglow has such... odd sexual interests.

The youthful sluts from Kiss of Life are a refreshing palette cleanser for Jihyo after the depravity of Everglow. While they might not have as much on-cock experience, their enthusiasm for sex nearly makes up for their lack. The four of them loudly and messily make love to the cocks sticking out of the wall, oftentimes stopping to suck them clean after they've emptied themselves inside of the girls' pussies. Jihyo beams to see such passion, and happily squats to join the girls on their knees; sharing a still-dripping cock with Natty as they lick her juices off of it. Then a fresh member is pushed through the hole, and Jihyo eagerly prepares it for her junior with her mouth, slurping on it until it is twitching desperately for release. She indulgently guides it inside of a moaning Natty, and is overjoyed to see its balls begin to pulsate almost immediately. She is getting ready to move on when Julie endearingly offers Jihyo a turn or two at her own gloryhole, surely she could take a little break... Jihyo is swayed by the adoring looks the idols of Kiss of Life give her, how could she possibly let them down? So she fucks seven cocks in quick succession, her slick and experienced pussy draining them with confident ease; while the girls look on in awe and suckle lovingly upon Jihyo's swaying breasts. She sighs with pleasure as each fresh spurt of semen fills her, slowly rubbing her clit as she takes some time to relax and enjoy herself. Giving the girls an appreciative fingering, which leaves the four of them shuddering from explosive orgasms, Jihyo kisses the Kiss of Life a cheerful goodbye as she moves on to the next section.

The haughty chaebols of Ive await Jihyo there, selfishly pleasuring themselves with their fans' sore and ignored cocks. They bitchily ignore the needs of their fans, fucking them until they grow bored and whimsically demand they switch out for a different partner; oftentimes they don't even bother making them cum. Rae even refuses to allow fans inside of her pussy, using her ass to drain them instead; while the stuck-up Wonyoung rebuffs any attempts to ejaculate in or on her at all! This, of course, could not be tolerated, and Jihyo moves quickly to set these spoiled brats straight. But when she cheerfully announces to the five princesses (Leeseo having been directed to the break room) that their first lesson would be servicing their poor fans with their mouths, outrage ensues. Sniffing with disgust, Ive arrogantly declare their opposition, refusing to demean themselves by tasting their lowly play-toys. Jihyo merely smiles, such unruly girls they are; they could use some discipline! By the time she is finished, the five idols are rubbing their bruised butts, whining piteously at the rough treatment they had received; they had never been spanked like that before! Suitably chastened, the girls get on their knees and duly begin to suck off their fans, unenthusiastically pleasuring them with snobbish reluctance. Jihyo rolls her eyes at their petty defiance, and squats beside Ive to... help them along. She jackhammers Liz's head against the dick she is sucking, forcing Liz to be throat-fucked until semen splatters out of her nose. Jihyo then moves along to the rest of them, who quickly get the message and put some more effort into their blowjobs. She claps her hands, instructing them to keep sucking even after they've drained their first cocks; while forbidding them from pleasuring themselves until they had finished off a score of fans each! The arrogant chaebols complain as they are forced to put some effort into their lovemaking for once, their over-indulged pussies dripping needily as they go untouched. Ive soon find some glimmers of interest in their fans' pleasure, as they desperately try to milk them as swiftly as possible so they can resume satisfying their own lusts. Jihyo beams as the idols finish their assignment, all of them now looking hungrily at the fresh cocks sprouting from their gloryholes. She tells the girls that they were now allowed to have sex, but that they must make sure to allow their lovers to finish inside of them! Ive immediately throw themselves upon the dicks with abandon, eagerly impaling their greedy cunts upon their fans' cocks and fucking them. Their slick holes are soon awash with sticky semen, though Wonyoung is quick to complain about how disgusting it feels to have cum inside of her. Jihyo sighs, one step at a time... she assigns Chaeyoung to watch over the little princesses; a brat to deal with the brats.

The next group Jihyo passes by hardly needs any help at all, Dreamcatcher are quite experienced in milking fat loads out of their fans. Sultry Siyeon massaging their balls while she fucks them, earnest Jiu making sure that not a single drop is wasted, slutty Yoohyeon grinding her perky cheeks against them in a frenzy, smirking Handong playfully teasing them until they explode inside of her, lustful Sua performing all sorts of acrobatics to find the best angle to drain them, mischievous Gahyeon purring as she bounces so ardently her weighty breasts clap together, and cruel Dami tormenting them until they have no choice but to empty themselves. Jihyo's advice therefore is mostly technical, some slight adjustments to positioning, some small improvements to movements, the exact tightness used while their fans' are cumming. The initially dominant Dami is like a puppy with Jihyo however, and is quite eager to worship such a beautiful goddess... Jihyo happily allows her to, groaning as Dami devours her soggy pussy, her tongue scooping out the loads deposited inside of Jihyo when she frolicked with Kiss of Life. After several extremely messy orgasms, a somewhat breathless Jihyo moves on to more needy girls; though not before joining Gahyeon to double tittyfuck some lucky fans, none of them lasted more than a minute with their cocks squished between the two idols' voluptuous breasts!

Jihyo strolls in a more distant manner now, her fellow group mates of Twice having done a splendid job teaching the more capable groups the art of breeding. Momo had whipped the lazy sluts of Le SSerafim into shape, turning the ordinarily placid girls into salacious whores bent only on seeing who could get the most cum pumped inside of them. Sana had been dispatched to keep the rampant lesbians of Mamamoo in line, and though the group seemed to spend most of their time fisting one another, there were at least some creampies occurring. And gentle Nayeon had done a wonderful job helping out the younger groups, though the perverted bunny still did go into heat whenever she smelled an unmilked virgin dick. Jihyo hums as she passes by a plethora of lovely idol girls, all of them having steamy raw sex with their adoring fans; she wondered how many of them would end up getting impregnated today... Then she passes by Purple Kiss, and Jihyo spots her current favorite engaging in rapturous sex. Swan's hefty breasts sway and jiggle as she lovingly drains her fan's cocks inside of her; slowly pampering their members until they erupt with thick, potent seed. Jihyo moans a little as she watches, her lust fired by the sight of a girl so much like her younger self making love with such passion. The thought of them getting bred together sends Jihyo's heart racing.... their breasts squished together, kissing intensely as cock after cock unloads inside of them, their bellies swollen to bursting with creamy semen, every inch of their curvy bodies adoringly used for their fans pleasure, holding hands as the supreme moment finally arrives and their eggs are quickened together... Jihyo is dripping wet as she blinks away her fantasies, she would have to wait to indulge herself with Swan; it would be unbecoming to show so much favor so soon. So she hurries along, thighs damp with juices.

Luckily for the matriarch of Twice, the next section over is solely occupied by her dear friend Lisa; as well as the unconscious body of Tzuyu. Lisa gives an apologetic smile, the poor girl had tried to match her and well... she shrugs. Semen plasters every surface in the area, Tzuyu is practically drowning in it, Lisa is literally painted with it, her holes overflowing with it. Jihyo gives the mischievous slut a pointed glare, before descending into giggles, she could never stay mad at Lisa. Who teasingly pats the wall beside her, inviting Jihyo to join in the fun, to let loose a little; she does deserve it after all. With Jihyo all buttered up from her enticing fantasies of Swan, she is in no condition to refuse the offer to play with hedonistic idol; so she agrees, reaching out for a fan. Just a little fun...

That had been an hour ago, and the two idols showed no sign of stopping their carnal rampage. Cock after cock are shoved through the holes, only to be slammed into gushing holes moments later, and squeezed dry within a minute. Jihyo and Lisa fuck side-by-side moaning to one another and sloppily kissing as they slake their lusts upon their fans. They stroke throbbing members to either side of themselves, hungrily readying them for insertion, or simply working the turgid loads out of them by hand. It's still not enough for the veteran sluts however, the sex is simply too impersonal to truly satisfy them. Jihyo has a solution however, but she first glances around to take stock and make sure her absence would not imperil her seminar... She needn't have worried, almost every girl group was now solely focused on the primal act of fucking, mixing together and socializing as they received creampie after creampie. With a sleazy smirk, Jihyo produces a key that she slots into the wall, a quick twist of the wrist makes a section of the wall open up. Grasping her friend by the hand, Jihyo pulls her into the dreary half-light of the room beyond. The hidden door hisses shut behind them, and Jihyo and Lisa find themselves confronted by a corridor packed with fans waiting for their turns at a glory hole. They stare in shock at the seductive sight of two idols, drenched with semen and juices, entirely naked and more than willing. Lisa lets out a little squeal of delight and squeezes Jihyo's hand, this was going to be such fun! She stalks forward, hand on her hip, and gives them her most salacious glare, "Well what are you waiting for, boys? Fuck us already." They trip over themselves to comply.

Jihyo and Lisa find themselves on their knees, back-to-back they slurp at the cocks surrounding them, stroking as many off as they can. The crowded fans spurt their jizz all over the idols' smiling faces, gifting them with a fresh layer of sticky goo. They remain crouched there until their lusts grow unbearable, sticking their asses out they demand to be fucked, which they quickly are. The pair are spit-roasted next to one another, as fan after fan frenziedly mounts them from behind, uncaring of what hole they shove their dicks into. The girls suck dry any cock that is forced into their mouths, sometimes even sharing a lucky fan between them as they lick up and down his shaft. Jihyo's huge swaying tits are groped and squeezed, constantly played with even as she pleasures as many fans at once as she can. Soon enough the idols are on the ground in a growing puddle of sexual fluids, legs spread wide as a train of fans take their turns to pump between their thighs. The two get separated for a time after that, both Jihyo and Lisa having all of their holes filled at the same time in a variety of positions; orgasming continuously as they are buried beneath piles of sweaty, thrusting bodies. Jihyo's hefty boobs are constantly getting mounted, the flesh between her breasts are as popular as her pussy to her lovers. Lisa's meanwhile outdoes her friend when it comes to cramming as many cocks inside of her at once; forcing two or even three into one of her holes while screaming for more. The pair are passed around for what seems like hours, their vision filled with a seemingly endless supply of dripping cocks glistening in the dim lighting. Then suddenly it's over, as the final fans groan loudly and spend themselves inside the idols, leaving them panting and exhausted in a pool of cum several inches deep. They stagger to their feet, hugging one another for support, as they slowly walk towards the door, giggling like naughty schoolgirls as they consider what they had done.

Matters in the main room seemed to be winding down as well, with wearied idols sprawled atop toppled furniture throughout the lecture hall. A few lusty girls remained active by the gloryholes, but it was obvious that the supply of fans was swiftly running out. Leaving a trail of glue-like semen, Jihyo languidly reclaims her place at the lectern. Cheerfully ignoring the stinking mess she was making, she taps the microphone once more to get everyone's attention. A chorus of groans and whimpers arises from the prostrated audience, but the murmuring and squeals subsides enough for her to speak. Jihyo merrily thanks the girls for their participation in the seminar, and informs them that the Q&A session would be held... tomorrow. The girls were welcome to stay as long as they needed to recover however, and she hopes that they had an instructive day. She gives Lisa a particularly knowing smile, Jihyo had made sure those Blackpink fans were extremely potent.

Jihyo looked forward to seeing idols waddling around onstage with bulging bellies...

#kpop smut #everglow smut #itzy smut #blackpink smut #aespa smut #smut #twice smut #jihyo smut #twice jihyo #ive smut #dreamcatcher smut #Kiss of Life smut #lisa smut #loona smut

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silent-raven13 · 3 months

Text

A boi!

Now, everyone knows Billie loves her big brother, Miles, she basically his number one fan. When she came to this world, she remembers his warmth, his kind words and his bright smile. Something about that just click to her, that she loves so much. She loves that he's always around for her, always loving her, always being there! No matter what she's always happy to be his little sister.

Especially when he's Spider-man! A great hero, always risking his life to save those in need. When he took her around during his normal patrol as Spider-man. She knew, even for being so small, she knew this is a secret she will have to keep! For being responsible, and a protector of her Big Bro's secret identity, it is a great duty for her to keep.

However, her loyalty can go so far...

It's a beautiful day in Brooklyn, the weather is perfectly nice because it's Spring and the breeze is nice. Three year old, Billie chilling on her dad's armchair while watching her Doc McStuffin, she suckled on her pacifier as she enjoyed her show.

Her big brother being busy with sweeping the floor, he wore a tank top and shorts with some flip flops as he cleans the house. Miles wanted to help his parents out by cleaning the remaining chores, he spend the day with laundry, washing dishes, organizing the family's inventory closet. Now he wanted to sweep, and mop before putting new sheets on his parents' bed. "Boo-boo, you want a snack?" He wipe the sweat off his forehead, then check his gizmo to see the time.

"No..." Billie shook her head, she still was full from breakfast.

"Okay, Łęt me know when you're hungry or thirsty." Her brother said while he continues to sweep the floor.

She kept watching her show, after thirty minutes the doorbell rang. Miles went to the front of the door, "That must be him." He said to himself.

The little girl assume it's Hobie, which she got her web-shooter ready. It's weird that her brother's boyfriend would come through the front door like that. Doesn't he always come out of a big magical portal? She stood on the big comfy recliner glance over to the hallway, hearing her brother talking to another boy?

Miles opens the door to find one of his high school friends, Judge coming by to drop something off for him. "Hey, man. Long time no see!" He gave his friend a quick hug.

"Hey, my dude. What's up! You know, working, school and keeping the ladies in check." Judge said, he hold a bag, "Oh here you go, man. I hope you like it. It's a bit jack up."

"Nah, it's good." Miles happily look in the bag to find the action figure, "I know how to repair it and it'll be a great gift for Ganks. Hey, you wanna come in."

"Sure, man. Been awhile since we hung out." Judge playfully wrapped his arm around his high school friend's shoulders, "Ay, man. You gotten so tall!"

"Pfft, you too. You act like you're 5'4"." Miles jokes as he shut the door as they came down the hallway.

Billie peaks over being more confused, "Who's dat?"

Miles turns to find his baby sister standing on the armchair, "Hey, Boo-boo. This is Judge. You remember him?"

"Wow, she gotten so big. I highly doubt she remembers me." Judge chuckles.

That's right, Billie doesn't remember him. Then again, she never cared about other people beside her big brother. She looks up to study Judge is a dark skinned male with glasses. He wore so expensive shirt, jacket, jeans and Jordans with some short dreads. He smiles at her, "Hey, Billie. Been a long time!"

"Hi..." She reached out to her big brother being nervous with this random stranger. She had no clue who was this was. "Mmm!" She whines at Miles.

"What's wrong, Billie? Awe, don't be scared. You met Judge. He's a great guy!" Miles calms her down by picking her up giving her hugs and kisses on her forehead. "Sorry, I guess she doesn't know you."

"It's alright, man. She was a little baby when I saw her, haha. I'm not surprise she doesn't remember me." Judge chuckles before adjusting his glasses. "Anyway, man. What's up with you? I heard you and Ganks are at Columbia."

"Yeah, man! That place is great." Miles put his sister back at the armchair before taking Judge to get him a drink, "You want some soda? Also, I heard you went to Japan! That's so cool!"

"Yup, I went three times. I'm planning to go to aboard for a class." Judge grins widely, "It's great to visit tho. I dunno about living there, tho..."

Billie watch the two as she suckle her pacifier, she didn't like how show off-y the stranger was. Maybe she didn't know him too well, and she knows she shouldn't judge him. Still, her guts was telling her, "What about Hobie? Does he know this man?"

She watches them seeing her brother sitting close to his friend after serving his a glass of soda. Judge kept talking on and on about his journey to Japan, while Miles' eyes gleam with wonder.

The three year old went back to watch her show, she accidentally stepped on the remote control changing the channel to a Spanish Soap Opera.

"I'm sorry José, but I've been cheating on you with Juan!" The woman in a red dress dramatically said to her boyfriend. "We been talking about old times and fallen in love."

Billie slowly sat down as she watches her mom's favorite show. "Hmm?" She suckled her pacifier with her head tilt.

"But Maria, we been together forever. My love for you burns like a thousand suns. My heart is real, my passion is raw for you!" José said being heartbroken.

Juan smirks with his handsome charm as he did a dramatic chuckle, "Ahahaha! I stolen your beloved Maria by talking to her and listening to her sorrows! I am the only man for her." He held Maria who's being dramatic. The two held each other while

José cries out, "Mariaaa, nooo!"

Billie glances over hearing Miles and Judge cracking up about something they were talking about. In her eyes she thought she saw Judge being flirty and quickly assumed he wanted to steal away her big brother.

"I must tell Obie! A boi! A boi! Is he-wuh!" She thought in her head, she looks down to her right side to find her iPad tablet at the end of the bigger long couch. Normally, she only plays her fun games but quickly get bored, since she loves playing with her dolls.

Anyway, the three year old quickly jumps over to the long couch trying to be like Spider-man. Wobbling over to her with each step on the soft cushions, she must be careful not to get their attention.

When she reached her iPad, she quickly jumps over like she was making a touchdown at a football game.

"Got it!" Quickly, she sat up straight placing her iPad upward. It quickly scan her face leading to an opening scene. She starts slamming her tiny hands on the messenger logo.

"Okay, we getting somewhere...mmm" She tries to remember the symbols and letters of Hobie's name. Ever since she learned how to write words, she was able to read them as well. Although she is three years old, she came make out names. Since she been using the tablet for a while she kind knows how to text.

Hopefully with all the observation she done with her family, she can send Hobie a message. Now, where to start.

"Hmmm, Obie? Where is Obie?" She saw the contact list seeing the number one responders are her papá and Miles. Normally, she would FaceTime her daddy because she misses him from long hours of work. Sometimes she likes playing with the filters and funny emojis, too. Her finger scroll down to her little contacts, she saw her mom's name, her grandmother, and her eyes lit up.

"OBIE!" The little girl spotted Hobie's name typed in as 'Obie' with a guitar emoji. She happily tap the name leading her to a chat section. Okay, now she's heading somewhere.

Her ears caught her big brother laughing out loud, "Dude, ain't no way. You literally are dating three girls at a time? That's crazy!"

"Aye, man. I got game." Judge smirks.

Billie didn't like the bragging, so she had to hurry. Her hand slap on the keyboard seeing the same letters as she learned.

Texting to Obie;

Billie: OBIE! OBIE! Obie!

She sent that first before texting another word.

"Umm... ummm.." What else can she spell? She only knows so little words.

The punker saw her text having to write.

Obie: Lass? You texting me? Or this Miles?

Billie couldn't only understand her brother's name.

Billie: OBIE! OBIE!

Needless to say Hobie being at home was caught off guard by the random text, he did remember his Sunflower put the family iPad's number on his Gizmo for emergency. He thought it was weird Billie sent him a text, in fact he didn't know she could send a text.

Hobie: Lil Blu? Dat u?

Billie stares at the screen seeing Blu and U, she understood and type: YUS!

Hobie being impressed: Wow, good job at texting me.

Billie type again: Obie! OBIE! Miles Miles

She needs to figure out how to say, "Strange man is here!" If only she can spell more words.

Hobie tilted his head, then sent: Miles, okay?

Billie tap on the emoji section and sent: Miles ☹️

That took the punker off guard: Miles 🙁?

Billie: 😣

"Sad face... sad face...." She pushes another text.

Billie: Miles a b

She didn't know how to spell BOY, so she tries to remember.

Hobie: Miles a b? 😂 Lass, u too funny.

Billie: NO! NO! 😡

She type again: MILES MILES ☹️ a boi

She thinks that's how to spell boy.

Hobie looks at the screen.

Hobie: Blu gender is a social construct.

Billie types again: A boi! A boi! Miles & boi!

She remembers when her dad takes her to Tony's & Tony's pizza, her dad always said 'and' and the symbol & would there. She figure that's what that symbol means.

Hobie stops to reread the message being so surprised by Miles' little sister. Did she mean the way he think she meant?

Hobie: Blu, Miles & a BOI?

Billie types: Yus.

Then she slap on the camera she press the ten second button, with her two tiny hands she lift the iPad to give her a selfie with her big brother and Judge laughing in the background being close. She capture the photo and send it to Hobie.

Billie: Miles & BOI!

Hobie stopped for a few second then text her.

Hobie: I'm coming, lass

She could read that, being very proud she became successful. "Boo-boo, what are you doing?" Her big brother came by wanting to check up on her only to find her on her iPad.

"Nuthin'!" She muffled through her pacifier.

Miles blinks a couple of times at his little sister's response, "Re-really?"

"Huh uh!" She set her iPad aside, got up with her two little legs and reached her arms out, "UP! UP!"

Miles picks her up having to carry her, "What's wrong, boo-boo? You hungry?"

"Mmm!" She snuggles her big brother a bit more, then she spotted Judge eating her Cheetos puffs! Oh, he's gonna get it. "Cheetos! Cheetos!" She squirms with her hand tugging on her big brother's tank top.

"Oh you want some Cheetos puffs?" Miles took one to give to her.

Judge chews, "My bad, cheetos be fire with soda." He almost finished the whole bag.

"Nah, it's cool, man." Miles giggles.

Billie took the Cheetos puff and pull out her pacifier to take a bite, "Cheeto!" She pouts at Judge, "My Cheetos!"

"Billie," Miles frowns, "That's not very nice. Judge is our guest. Hey, you need a refill?" He looks at his friend.

"Sure."Judge said while eating the rest of the Cheetos bag.

"Awe," Billie gasps at her favorite snacks being gone, she pouts at her brother.

"Don't worry, boo-boo. We got another bag. Remember sharing is carrying." He had her on his hip, holding her with his left arm. Miles went over to the fridge to pull out a bottle of Cola, he twist the cap with his thumb and index finger. Billie watches her brother pour some soda in Judge's cup, "So, after Japan are you going to South Korea or Singapore?"

"Awe, man. I would love to go to Singapore, man. That place looks so fire. South Korea... hmm." Judge thought for a second before saying, "I kinda do want to go but probably later one. I'm planning to go to Germany to visit my cousins."

"No way, you got family in Germany?"

"Yup, since on my mom side is mix with Moroccan, her family is mix with African and Arab descendants. So some relatives move to Germany for education, some to France or Britain." He pop Cheetos puff in his mouth.

"Damn, I never knew that. That's pretty cool. So ya'll visit them often?"

"I use to, but my mom wants to go to visit my aunt and her family." Judge shrugs, "What about you? Aren't ya going somewhere?"

"Well... with school and work. I've been so busy. I do want to visit my grandma and family in Puerto Rico, but I'm not sure if I can. My dream is to go to Japan and see all the cool stuff there." He fantasize going to Japan for the culture and anime stuff.

"You should go. You can totally survive with 2k of dollars if you're smart enough to budget." His friend explained.

Billie chews her Cheeto puff very slowly waiting for Hobie to come. "I guess, but I don't got 2k to spend like that. I need to pay for books and stuff, you know."

"That is true, dude. You're at a Legacy school!" He said.

The two talk some more unaware of a Celestial portal opening in Miles' bedroom, they didn't hear the heavy thud of combat boots or the chains dangling against each other on a buckled belt.

The door slowly opens having to reveal a punker with a dark look on his face, his eyes narrowed as he spotted the random boy in his Sunflower's home.

Miles' felt his Spider Senses going off when he noticed an unease sense of his punker. "Hmm, Hobie?" He turns over his shoulder after he saw Judge's face fell into a frighten stare.

"Dude, who dat fuck is that?" Judge asked out loud.

Billie turns her head with a big smile on her face, "Obie! Obie!" The punker actually had a more intense punker outfit with everything being black and silver, his makeup look more intense. He painted his eyes into a black smokey bar lines, black lipstick and red contact on one right eye and an Anarchy symbol white contact on the other. He got a lot more accessories having this "Scary" look.

The Morales family got use to this style so this didn't phased them. Not even Billie was afraid, instead she happily giggles, "Obie! Obie!"

"Bae..." Miles looks over at Judge knowing he can't ask him why he's here instead he lied, "Your awake. I didn't think you would wake up."

"Hey, Sunflower." Hobie put one arm around his boyfriend's shoulder with a glaring mean mug directing at Judge. "Who's dis bloke?" His voice deep, rasps sounding a bit dangerous.

"BAE? Miles, who the heck is this?" Judge looked very confused and scared at the punker. "Weren't you dating some rocker dude? Now your into some guy looking like he's part of Metal band?"

"Judge, this is Hobie. He's just dressed different." Miles kisses his boyfriend's cheek, "Bae, this is Judge. Remember him. You met him a couple of times at parties..."

"THIS IS HOBIE? Bro look so different." And frankly, scary as fuck! If he could say the rest of his sentence.

"Not a clue." Hobie grunts being like a guard dog to his boyfriend.

Miles arched his eyebrow, knowing his partner is jealous as hell. "Bae, Judge is just a friend."

Billie pouts at her brother, "Miles and boi, Obie! Obie!" She tugs on Hobie's shirt, "Boi!" She pointed having to squint her eyes at Judge.

"Wah?" Judge saw the glares he got from the two, especially the way Billie squint her eyes at him like a cat.

Miles said, "Hold on, you two. You guys need to be nice to Judge. He's a friend from high school! Stop it." He had to scold his boyfriend a baby sister. Then apologize to his friend, "I'm so sorry, man. I didn't expect this from them."

"It's all good, man. I didn't think you were with him... I thought he was a fling then again, we rarely hang out after high school." His friend trying to ease the tension down.

"Hah, I know, everyone didn't think me and him would be together." Miles kisses his boyfriend on the cheek, again. This calms Hobie down.

Billie felt at ease with Hobie here, "Obie! Obie!"

"Yes, lass." He took her off from his Sunflower's arm to hold her.

She patted his cheek, "Hehe." Then snuggles against him being happy he's here.

Miles blink a bit surprised at his little sister, and his boyfriend gave a small chuckles, "Don't worry, lil blu. I'll always protect your brother." This made Billie calm enough to take a nap, all this tension exhausted her. So she suckled her pacifier while she fallen asleep in the punker's arm.

Judge nervously said, "Heh, so this been something..."

"Hahaha, don't worry about them. They just love me so much." Miles said with a small smile on his face.

"I can see that." Judge will never admit to Miles that he's envious having this much love.

After Judge left, Miles finally asked his man what happened. Billie finally woken up from her nap. Her big eyes still in Hobie's arms.

"Sunflower, lil Blue send me a text. Check the iPad. It's bonkers, I know, but she was worried for me. She literally thought you were cheating on me." Hobie explained.

Miles being disbelief went to get his sister's iPad, instead of freaking out he was amazed that his little sister text Hobie! "NO WAY! Billie texted you! This is crazy! She even responded back?" He scrolls seeing how his little sister did the best she could. "Wait, she thought I was cheating on you! Boo-boo!"

Billie shrugs, "A boi!"

"See. You gave made her scared, Sunflower. Never saw a bloke like that and all alone without me around. Scandalous." Hobie jokes.

"Oh hush, you were all 'grr, don't touch my Sunflower'." Miles huffs.

"I have to be scary. It's my nature." Hobie chuckled, "Besides this look was meant for a concert."

"Obie not scary. Obie good." Billie patted him.

Miles sighs, "Well, at least she has your back, bae."

"Hah, and she texted me first!" His boyfriend gave a smug smirk.

When Miles' parents came home from work, they were surprised to find out Billie knowing how to text. The three year old happily demonstrated her skills by sending them a text.

Billie: Miles & a boi! A Boi!

Rio giggles, "A boi? Does she mean Obie?"

Hobie chuckles, "Actually it's a funny story."

"Let me guess," Jeff rub his chin, "One of Miles' old friends came by to visit and Billie thought it was weird. Then she went ahead to text you?"

"Wow, that was fast?" Miles asked his dad.

"I'm good at my job." Jeff smirks.

Hobie sips his soda, "I scared him good."

"How?" Rio asked having to hold her daughter.

"My looks."

Jeff and Rio tilted their head not being afraid of the punker's style. They gotten so use to it, it felt like one of his normal clothing. "Hmph, I don't see it." Rio said.

"Maybe if you add red eyeliner underneath?" Jeff crossed his arms giving advice.

Miles giggles, "I didn't know you an expert, dad."

"Just giving some advice."

Hobie said, "I'll try that next time, pops. So, mamí Morales, what's for dinner?"

"Hmm, how about some Shrimp con Mofongo y arroz con habichuelas?" She wanted to cook something easy today.

"Habichuelas! Mamá, yo quiero arroz con Habichuelas. Por favor." Billie spoke in Spanish being so hungry for rice and beans.

"Sí, mi amor. Just hold on for a few minutes. Miles, take out the pot from the fridge."

"On it!"

Rio handed her daughter to Hobie, whiles she gets to cooking. Billie and Hobie sat watching the two. They couldn't wait for dinner.

#miles morales #hobie brown #punkflower #spiderman #flowerpunk #spider verse #across the spider verse

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ranaissingle · 2 years

Note

Well how about an AustinElvis Prompt?

Reader decides to surprise Elvis for his birthday by bringer herself and the children to visit him, though it doesn’t go to plan. Reader and the children walk into the suite to see Elvis in the company of several ladies.

Sex, Drugs, etc

Masterlist

Fandom: Austin!Elvis and Elvis Rating: M (mentions of drug and alcohol abuse) Pairings: Austin!Elvis x Reader or Elvis x Reader Word Count: 1055

Warnings: Cheating, adultery, cursing, mentions of drug and alcohol abuse (Let me know if I missed any) Authors Note: Thank you for the request! I did write this as a late 60's early 70s Elvis so he will be at the international hotel. I hope you enjoy it!

✧─── ･｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧✧─── ･｡ﾟ★: *

Elvis had been away from home for his last two birthdays and Y/N would be damned if she allowed him to spend his next one away from his family. So despite the tight-lipped warnings from the colonel and Jerry Springer, Y/N had packed up herself and the kids to go visit Elvis while he was in Vegas. The children missed their father and Y/N missed her husband.

She rounded up the children into the private jet sent to pick them up and sat down to finish wrapping the last of his birthday presents before eventually reclining her seat to take a nap.

When she awoke Jerry was shaking her shoulder.

"Are you sure about this? It's not too late to turn around?" His brows furrowed as he looked at her practically begging her to do so. Jerry knew what Elvis would be doing right around this time, and he would be anything but alone.

"Of course, I want to do this Jerry. Jesse and Caroline have been dying to see their father and I miss my husband. Why would I ever want to chicken out now." The frown on her face deepened.

"Besides how better to spend a Birthday than with your family?" a smile stretched across her face as Y/N began thinking of Elvis's possible reactions. Putting an end to the conversation, she got up and woke the kids to get them loaded into the car and begin their journey to the International Hotel. Elvis was going to love this.

═════ ∘◦❀◦∘ ═══════ ∘◦❀◦∘ ═══

When they arrived at the international hotel, Y/N filed the children out of the car and made her way to the lobby to check into Elvis's suit.

"Hello Miss. how can I help you today!" The hostess smiled brightly as she called over a boy to take care of the baggage.

"Hello! I would just like to check into a room my Husband is already here. His name is Elvis Presly and my name is Y/N Presly.

"Oh of course Miss, if I could just see your ID I can give you the key right away."

After giving her ID and receiving the key Y/N took the kids to the elevator and went up the floors all the way to the presidential suite where Elvis was staying.

"Okay kids, wait outside for just a second while I make sure that Daddy is inside, alright?"

"Okay, Mamma!" Jesse's response came accompanied by a thumbs up and a smile so bright it almost hurt Y/N's heart.

She opened the door softly and closed it behind her. She heard voices coming from the sofa area. She heard female voices? That couldn't be right. Why would Elvis have girls in his room?

Sometimes people make foolish mistakes. Like putting sugar on steak instead of salt or turning off the light when you meant to turn on the fan. But most people never have to wonder if their husbands are cheating on them. Y/N never thought that an innocent little surprise could turn into the single worst day of her life.

Elvis was sitting on the couch with three different girls positioned all around him. One on the floor with her head in his lap, another with her head in his neck, and the last was giving him open-mouthed kisses while she raked her fingers through his hair.

"Elv- Elvis what are you doing?" Y/Ns voice cracked as she felt her throat close and the tears threaten to spill from her eyes. Elvis pushed the girls off of him before whirling around to see his wife standing in the doorway with a hand on her heart and eyes glistening with unshed tears.

He stumbled off the sofa and up the step, " Y/N baby wh- what are ya doin' here honey?" There was no talking his way out of this one. Elvis had dug himself into a hole with nothing but a shovel made of his own idiocy.

"Don't 'baby' me Elvis Presly I have eyes! How could you do this to me? You ruined our family over what? A quick fuck? I- is that all children and I are worth to you? " Y/N could barely get the sentence out as she saw the girls on the sofa scramble to put on their clothes. That just added insult to injury. He had been with not one, not two, but three girls.

"Y/N darlin' you know it ain't like that. I get lonely on the road, and I was missin' ya-" The sharp tone of Y/N's voice cut him off.

"If you are missing me then come back and visit. You keep yourself cooped up in this room with people you don't know and doing drugs that you don't even know the name of. I gave you everything I had Elvis. Everything I could possibly give to you I did, so don't you sit there and try to make this about me not being around when you have a goddamn private jet to take you anywhere where you damn well please!"

Elvis was shocked. She had never once cursed or raised her voice, be it at him or the kids.

"Look I-I'm sorry mamma we can work through this can't we? Ya aren't gonna leave me over somethin' as silly as this are ya?" He chuckled lightly as if the entire situation was a massive joke that only he was in on.

"Your kids are young Elvis and you are never around to parent them so no, I will not be divorcing you right this second. But trust that as soon as they are in college or moved out of the house, I will be gone. Feel free to sleep with whoever you would like because you have singlehandedly managed to lose the only person who truly cared about your well-being and safety." Y/N voice grew sterner as she spoke, almost as if she were scolding a child. Her eyes were cold and distant and nothing like those of his loving wife.

"Make sure to call those girls back in, you wouldn't want to be lonely on your birthday." She turned on her feet and walked briskly to the large oak doors of the suite.

"Baby, wait for a mi-". The slam of the doors punctuated his sentence.

✧─── ･｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧✧─── ･｡ﾟ★: *

Done! Let me know if you like it!! Don't forget to like and follow until next time girlies!

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b4mpyre-k1zz3s · 1 year

Note

omg i loved your dark bam imagine!!! is there any way we get some more, like how he manipulates the media or her and ends up with her?? sorry i just love it so much and you’re literally so talented!! no rush in it! have a wonderful day/evening/night/morning idk just have a good ig ❤️❤️

Can’t Stand Losing You (Pt. 2)

Whatever was going on between Bam and you was impossible to make heads or tails of. He only seemed to complicate things for you further when he gives you a surprise over dinner.

Bam Margera X Fem!Reader

(Dark, Angst, Fluff)

3.3k Words

Warnings: Obsessive behavior, suggestive content, paparazzi, bribery, possessiveness, lying, kissing

An: Thank you sosososoos much for this request!!! You are so sweet thank you!! I am so happy that my fic captivated you so much! All of your love for my work means so much! <3 I felt like the conclusion of the original fic was a little vague, so I was so happy to expand on it more! I am a sucker for the dark stuff so keep those requests coming! XD (links to parts 1 and 3)

“Hey, is this, like- Star Magazine?” Bam feigned high pitched valley girl upspeak as he pressed the phone against his ear with his shoulder. “Mmhm. Yeah, so I’m at Venice Beach, right? And I see this guy- total dreamboat- and he’s with some chick, and I’m all like, ‘Who’s that?’” Bam thrummed his a against the wheel of his Hummer, parked about a block away from your house.

Summer was brutal in LA, and swimming was one of the better ways you could cool off. Usually, you and Bam blended in with all of the other ridiculously hot people that hung out there, so it wasn’t an issue. You would splash around and Bam would end up chasing seagulls or face planting into the wet sand hard enough that he was sneezing out sand for weeks. Relatively quiet stuff (by your standards).

This wouldn’t be the case for long. “So I go to get a better look and you’ll never guess who it is!” He grinned, hearing the operator lean back and say something to someone just out of reach of the receiver- they were sending people. The operator returned, eagerly listening, “Who did you see, miss?”

“Bam Margera!” Feigning the voice of an excitable female fan, he could audibly hear the guy sit up in his chair as he continued, “And he’s shirtless too! What a hunk!” Taking a second to collect himself, Bam continued with his act, “Yeah! And, like- I think he’s with some model lady too? I dunno…maybe she’s his girlfriend or something?”

Click.

☆彡

“Are dudes really wearing that kinda stuff nowadays?” You joked, peering at the cleft of Bam’s ass crack that showed over his low swim trunks. Never in your life had you seen anyone wear them that low. He shrugged as you walked through the parking lot, past a couple of vans parked right where the sand met asphalt, “What?” He was several shades lighter than the sand you popped your folding chairs onto, his limbs dappled in multicolored bruises from skating and stunts. He looked like a bad peach. Scoffing, you flicked your sunglasses open, replying to Jim in a jokingly sarcastic tone, “You’re practically exposing yourself, Bam. You are such a slut!” Bam sat down in the chair next to you, “Yeah, you’re one to talk.” Well he did have a point there- you weren’t exactly dressed conservatively yourself.

But you couldn’t help it. It was a perfect day, and you needed to get a tan for your next photoshoot for some swimwear company. Reaching into your tote bag, you grabbed the bottle of sun tan oil. The sparkly hibiscus flower on the clear bottle flaked pink glitter off into your hands as you poured some out, rubbing it onto your shoulders and back. From behind you, Bam watched you with fervor as you massaged it in. He chuckled suggestively, “You need some help with that?”

“Haha. Very funny!” You rolled your eyes, “I am more than capable of applying my own lotion, thank you.” Reclining in his seat, he chuckled, “Eh, was worth a shot.” Your eyes drifted along the sands, the sounds of the waves like silk over your ears. It was quiet, as usual, while you people-watched. Mom with her kids, some bitch from the Real World getting into a fight with her boyfriend, guy with a camera- typical stuff. And it seemed that that day, for once in a very long time, that everything was normal. You and Bam made fun of the surfers when they wiped out, he got fly-by shat on by a seagull, and everybody had a really great time.

Bam would have an especially good time a few hours after you left.

☆彡

The silver magazine rack creaked as Bam flipped through it, humming to himself. By now it was night, and the dim light from the dirty little corner store that he stopped in filtered out onto the street though the glass storefront. Tapping his foot impatiently on unswept floors, he scanned through the tabloids for anything with his face on it.

Jackpot! His eyes went wide as he snatched up the thin, papery tabloid. Bam flipped through it, his eyes scanning every page. And there you two were, a picture perfect celebrity couple. A damn sexy one too, he thought, eyeing your exposed skin. The bold, bright pink text screamed at him from the front page, “Just like Paradise! Bam Margera spotted with girlfriend Y/N at Venice Beach!”

Grabbing a candy bar, he got his purchases and had them rang up at the counter. Not even waiting to drive back to his hotel, he kicked his feet up and read by the light of the dashboard. “Hmm…” Furrowing his brow, he thought about slipping that camera guy a twenty next time to make sure he got more flattering photos of him.

★彡

With all the flashing lights and media people, you really felt like a big shot as you walked down the red carpet. All the guests at the premiere were all dressed up so nicely, in their dazzling dresses and fancy suits- and then there was Bam, who was always too good to dress up for anything, especially these kinds of things. It meant nothing, you reminded yourself, as he snaked his arm around you. You two were going together to mess with the media, that’s it. Sure, Bam bought your dress and shoes and made sure you looked like total eye candy when you were with him, but it would be just the same as when Steve and Chris make out on the red carpet- it’s just for fun.

“Hey Bam! Over here!” Some reporter lady with the most egregious hair to body ratio you had ever seen beckoned him over, sticking a microphone in his face. “Who are you with tonight?” His arm around your waist pulled you a little closer, feeling the purple velvet of your dress, “Well, this sweetheart right here is my girl, Y/N. Ain’t that right?” You giggled and smiled, playing the role of a smitten girlfriend well.

What did trip you up, however, was when Bam brought his face close to yours for what you thought was going to be a kiss. Instead, he planted two little pecks on your cheekbone, before licking a hot stripe up from your jaw to your temple. “Ah!” You couldn’t help from exclaiming in surprise as he snickered, the spit rapidly cooling on your face. The lady seemed shocked, but not as shocked as you were. And just as soon as that happened, you were whisked away to the next flock of people asking for photos of you two. You whispered to him, “I swear to god, Bam- if that makes me break out after this…”

☆彡

The premier was fun and all, but Bam decided that the movie sucked and you dipped halfway though. After sneaking pas the other guests, you silently ducked out a side door in the theater, walking down an alley that was illuminated only by floodlights. He looked you up and down, the look behind his eyes unclear due to the cool sunglasses-at-night look he was sporting, “You wanna get ‘somethin to eat?” You thought of what was nearby, not wanting to chance it with the paparazzi that seemed to follow you everywhere recently, “Yeah, maybe…do you have something in mind?” The grin he gave you after your question made you a little uneasy.

Your jaw dropped when you saw where he was taking you. It was one of those romantic, fancy restaurants with lighting so low you could barely see your plate while you were eating. “Bam! This is…you- you can’t get in here without a reservation six months in advance!” He just smirked in response, not hesitating as he squeezed past the crowd of expensively dressed people, leaving you to follow him like a lost puppy. Leaning against the lectern, he smirked expectantly at the Maitre D, “Reservation for Margera?”

“I’m sorry, sir. We don’t-“ Just out of your sight, Bam palmed a couple hundreds to the tuxedo clad man. He paused, thinking for a second before nodding. “Ah, yes! Come right with me, sir.” You gawked at the lavishly decorated restaurant as you walked, Bam’s hand around yours like he thought you couldn’t keep up with him on your own.

It was beautiful- really the kind of place he would pick. You could’ve sworn you were in the castle of some medieval vampire prince as you were seated on the second floor balcony, overlooking the large dining room. Gold candle light danced off of the crystal chandelier in the center of the room, complimenting the purple velvet that was everywhere, from the upholstery on the seats to the large, draping curtains over giant windows. Everything matched, from the dark stained wood of the tables to the black jackets of the servers and the cold, metal railings you were seated near.

☆彡

You listened to Bam as he animatedly told you about his trip to Vegas he just got back in from, “Yeah, it was crazy! I mean-“ He rolled up his sleeve, showing off his most recent tattoo in the low light, “I got this done by Kat Von D.” You leaned forward to get a batter look, squinting at the design. He smirked a little, your forehead almost touching his. His voice got a little softer as he continued, “After that, me and Dunn visited the AVN Expo- had a blast.”

“What’s that?” You sat back, picking idly at your food. He seemed a little surprised at the fact that you didn’t know, his voice returning to its normal register, “You know, the porno convention.” You raised your eyebrows, your eyes widening. He chuckled at your surprise, a glint in his eye, “Yeah! There's pretty much naked chicks everywhere there! If I’m being honest, I think that’d be a great j-“ His attention was turned to the waiter who was with glasses and a bottle of wine for who knows how long, “Oh, thanks.” As he bent down to pour them, Bam paid him no mind, his smirk audible in his voice. “Anyways, as I was saying, it is a hell of a good time. Maybe next year I could get you Ron Jeremy’s autograph.” You giggled a little as the waiter fled, “That would be great! I wish I could come with you!”

“What do you mean?” Bam asked, his tone shifting as he raised an eyebrow at you. You pressed your lips together, “I mean- I'm just usually pretty busy with work. It’s not like I could just take time off.” Chuckling, he leaned back in his seat, glass of wine in hand, “Oh, sure you can’t.You have the money to go wherever you want. I go to Finland, like- three times a year!” He took a sip of his Pinot Noir, “Why don’t you go to…the Caribbean or something?” Idly picking at your food, you replied matter of factly, “Well you know people in Finland. It’s not like I have buddies in the Caribbean. I can’t even get a day off until November!”

Reaching into his pocket, he wordlessly passed you a white envelope over the purple silk tablecloth. Your head tilted to the side as you took it, opening it with your well manicured nails. Bam had an air of coolness, watching you with steepled hands as your eyes went wide. To your shock, inside the envelope were two light blue plane tickets to Westchester, Pennsylvania. The flight was tomorrow. He smiled.

★彡

It seemed that no matter what time of year it was, Westchester was cold. Your LA blood wasn’t used to the chill, forcing you to shiver against Bam, the cab’s heat blasting on you two. “I can’t believe this…” You grumbled, pulling his coat that he gave you around you. The fur on the hood felt nice against the cold back of your neck as you seethed, “My boss is gonna kill me, Bam!” He tsked, affectionately pulling an arm around you. “Oh, shut up. You know you love this.” His voice had an endearing tone as he held you close enough that you could smell him- beer and cigarettes masked under the cologne he wore to impress you. You were too cold and tired to fight, instead opting to try and sap any warmth from him and the car's air vents until you got to your destination.

The windows were steamy by the time you arrived at what he dubbed Castle Bam. You were half awake, exhausted from the long flight while he grabbed not only his but your luggage, quickly scooping you up in his arms and shutting the car door with his foot. There was no doubt you were awake now. “Ah! Bam!” He cackled as he sprinted up the driveway and into the house carrying you.

Someone sitting on the black leather couch in the living room sat up when Bam called out to him, “Hey, Dunn!” You were unceremoniously dropped into the couch, with Bam still wearing his shit-eating grin, “Meet the princess of Castle Bam!” You rubbed your eyes looking up at the stranger across from you, “Mmhm. Hi.” Nodding, he put a hand out to you, “I’m Ryan, nice to see you. God- Bam’s been talking about you nonstop.” You shook his hand and smiled back. He seemed friendly and comparatively normal next to Bam who stared holed into the back of your head with a weird look in his eye. Tossing a handful of clothes at you, he swiftly left and went upstairs, presumably to his room.

“Put these on. I have somewhere to be tonight.”

☆彡

Bam smirked, leading you through a side entrance in the venue through a packed hallway. It felt like one of those things you shouldn’t be doing, but you did it anyway. “Y/N, this guy’s probably the coolest person you’ll ever meet.“ Giving a nod to one of the security guys, Bam led you up a set of stairs, squeezing past people, giving you the rundown.“His name’s Ville Valo, and his band’s called H.I.M. Got that all?” You nodded, trying to show that you were listening. He smiled, reaching a door at the top of the stairs, “Good. Now, don’t make an idiot’a yourself.”

From how much you heard Bam fangirling about these guys, they were kinda…underwhelming looking- you expected something a little bit more Sisters of Mercy. You walked into a room of maybe five guys, just sitting around, drinking beers and waiting to get called onstage. “Hey, Ville! What’s up, man?” He plopped down onto the little floral upholstered couch someone must’ve fished out of a dumpster next to maybe the most beautiful man you had seen in your life as he shot a nod to Bam. You were beaconed over, and you squeezed in between him and the arm of the couch, practically sitting on his lap.

From the far end of the couch, Ville leaned across to you, giving you a once over with half lidded eyes. “Pleasure to meet you” His voice was gentle, with an accent that was remarkably European (though you couldn’t place exactly where- you’re a model, not an encyclopedia). He gave you a lipsticked smile as Bam turned to you while you were distracted, taking your face in his tattooed hand and gripping it hard as he suddenly pressed his face against yours. Your eyes went wide as you felt his tongue against yours, freezing like a deer in headlights. This isn't something friends do. You couldn’t figure out where your mouth ended and his began until he pulled away from the mess of flesh with a cocky grin, “LA’s finest.”

He gave Ville one of those looks that say more than words ever could. Seemingly unphased with Bam devouring you like a lion eating a gazelle on the Savannah, he laughed a little and got up, pleasantly gesturing for you to follow him, “Here. I’ll show you backstage.” And he led you down the stairs and through all these corridors, Bam still holding you close the whole time like he was afraid you were going to float away. “And this,” Ville gestured to a door that was labeled as his dressing room, “is where it all happens.” He glanced back at you, making the kind of eye contact that insinuated things. This clearly displeased Bam, him shooting a look back at him. Ville just chuckled, but before anything rash happened, someone came and got the band to bring them out onstage.

☆彡

The dark, desolate car ride home after the show was underscored by the music playing from the stereo of Bam’s orange Hummer. He had 24 CDs and about 22 of them were H.I.M. The green numbers on the stereo blurred in your vision as you squinted, trying to tell the time. You could see that it ended with ‘Am’. Sighing, you closed your eyes and let your head hit the window as the music washed over your brain like river rocks, the singer going on about his “poison girl”, whatever that means. Behind the wheel, Bam smiled, glimpsing over at you from the dashboard light. So much had been going on, and you just needed to not think too hard for a little. And you got back to the castle and headed upstairs and before you could realize it you were in his bedroom. It wasn’t too bad- his black sheets felt so nice and the room was comfortably dim, exhaustion claiming you. Friends share beds all the time anyways.

But out of the corner of your eye, you spotted something hanging out from under his mattress. You thought to yourself- he was in the bathroom, so it wasn’t like he’d notice if you snooped a little. Quietly rolling off the bed, you bent down and wiggled out the pink, papery object. Your eyes went wide as you stared at it. It was one of those celebrity tabloids- with you on it. Perplexed, you lifted the mattress up more, wondering why in the hell he’d collect this kind of thing.

Oh god. Your heart dropped. There had to be at least twenty under there. Some were from before he even met you, and others were as recent as the previous week- just tucked away down there like prison contraband. Your mind was racing so fast that you didn’t even notice the sound of the bathroom door opening as Bam walked in- not until he leaned over you and put a hand on your shoulder, making you jump. Whipping your head around, you were face to face with the fabric of his gray pajama pants and the bare skin of his stomach, close enough that you could feel his soft skin on your eyelashes as you stared at his heartagram tattoo. You still clutched one of the tabloids in your hand as you panickedly looked up at him, gesturing to your findings. “What- what’s all this…?” He sighed, kneeling down to get eye level with you.

“Y/N- Y/N. Listen.” He took one of the magazines scattered on the floor into his hands, seeming earnest as he spoke, oddly calm, “I only buy this shit cause it’s funny. I mean- they say all this ridiculous shit about us!” Flipping through one of them, your eyes scanned the pages. Everything that was written about you was…oddly sweet, endearing even. Something seemed to click in your head. He liked you- he liked you. He was trying to impress you this whole time. Silently engrossed in what you were reading, you mused “Is it really that bad…?” Bam’s eyes flitted up to yours and you almost seemed to smile as you turned it over to read the cover, “Just like Paradise…Bam Margera spotted with girlfriend, Y/N, at Venice Beach.”

You were just barely- no, less than an inch away from each other as your eyes met his. And you kissed him and it felt good- so much better than that kiss before. It was soft and sweet, in a way neither of you were really expecting it to be.

#jackass #bam margera #ryan dunn #ville valo #jackass fanfiction #jackass fanfic #fluff #angst #dark #jackass x reader #bam margera x reader #Fun fact: the restaraunt in this fic is based off of a real life place #it’s called Dorsia and it’s in Gothenburg!

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mryoyo000 · 5 months

Text

WHY SELYSE FLORENT SHOULD BE QUEEN OF WESTEROS WITH TEXTUAL PROOF

It is once again time to recline and ponder the many gifts of Queen Selyse Florent. Over the course of five books, what other character has had such an illustrious career so full of achievement or lived a life so dazzling and rewarding? As the fiscal year draws to a close we can see that so much of Westeros owes thanks to Selyse and House Florent for keeping it real and being classy and lots of other stuff. You may think the Tyrells are smart and competent but that’s just fraudulent fraud from Highgarden.

I want to post of a few key passages that best demonstrate why Selyse Florent, mother of foxes, is so well-suited to the title of Queen.

”Yes,” Lady Selyse agreed. “Patches’s helm. It suits you well, old man. Put it on again, I command you.” And I will serve you to the last, my sweet queen, Cressen thought, for suddenly he saw the way. “Thank you, Your Grace,” he intoned, bowing low. “I never realized until now how much I needed your discerning and fashionable eye. This helm enhances my style very much and I never would have had the confidence to express myself without you.”

”Joffrey shall die,” Queen Selyse declared, serene in her confidence. Davis saw that her confidence was well-earned, with her regal poise and her flawless hair. He suddenly felt ashamed for being such a hater and decided that from now on, he would obey her without question.

Queen Selyse pursed her lips. “Lord Snow, as Lady Val is a stranger to our ways, please send her to me, that I might instruct her in the duties of a noble lady toward her lord husband.” That will go splendidly, I know. Jon knew that Val looked up to Queen Selyse and was always hoping to have her be a mentor figure. “As you wish,” he said, “though if I might speak freely—” “No, I think not. Now you may sashay away.” Jon Snow bent his knee, bowed his head, withdrew. He knew that Selyse shouldn’t be disturbed because she was about to go give away free cars to a bunch of her fans.

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rumbelleshowdown · 4 months

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Author: Muenster Maven

Group: D

Prompts: True Love's Kiss. Skinny-dipping, secret relationship. Voyage

Note: This is a continuation of my previous entry, “Of Shepherds and Sizes.”

Of Rivers and Romance

The barge trudged along the river slowly, as though the late-summer heat had made the boat as lethargic as its passengers. Belle reclined in the shade from a sail, trying to maintain a ladylike composure.

It was a losing battle. She was wearing her lightest dress, with as little undergarments as an unmarried woman could get away with, but the thin linen was already soaked through with sweat. The humidity had made managing her hair impossible so it hung loose and limp on her shoulders. The sun was too bright and the air was too thick for her to do anything but fan herself. If she wasn’t so miserable, she might be the picture of decadence.

“Why did we have to make this voyage now?” she grumbled. “It could have waited a few months.”

“In a few months, who knows where the ogres might be?” Rumpelstiltskin was on the other side of the deck, sharing her shade, but keeping far enough away to be respectable. “Besides, sheep rut in autumn, so we have to have them home before then.”

“Of course,” Belle closed her eyes. “Safe at home, in the cool mountain pastures.”

They were heading south, into the lowlands of Maldonia. King Naveen’s lands were riddled with swamps, which gave their sheep a remarkable resiliency. Belle and Rumple had left Baelfire with the main flock and set out to study the foreign animals. Hopefully, they’d be able to select a few to bring back to Avonlea.

He was ‘Rumple’ now. Months of working together had brought about a closeness between them, an informality that almost bordered on friendship. Or perhaps something deeper. Belle didn’t know how to go about having something deeper with a common man--or any man. Surely it would be a scandal. Surely it would be better to let things come no closer than almost-friendship.

“This is silly.” Rumple took his staff and began to stand. “I’m getting in the water.”

Belle sat up. “You’re what?”

“I’m going for a swim.” Balancing carefully, he began to take off his tunic.

The heat increased a thousandfold as Belle filled her eyes with the shape of his body. Lean muscles roped around his arms and back. A sheen of sweat on his tanned flesh glistened like jewels. When he turned around, she saw the thin, dark hair on his chest. Hair that grew thicker as it traveled down his waist, leading into the band of his breeches.

He cleared his throat, clearly meaning to draw her attention back to his face. “By your leave, my lady?”

Still stunned, she nodded slightly, and he went down to the other end of the deck. A few of the crewmen had thrown a rope ladder down into the water for this exact purpose. All of them had been taking dips throughout the afternoon as respite from their work. Belle watched as Rumpelstiltskin took off his breeches, secured his staff on the deck, and jumped off the railing.

Shielding her eyes from the glaring sun, Belle ran over to where he had jumped. She found Rumple treading water. He had splashed his face and wet his hair and now looked the very image of cool contentment.

“The river is filthy!” she called down to him. “And in this land, it might be cursed!”

He laughed--a sound that was rare and always too brief. “Not to worry! If I get cursed, it can be broken with a kiss from my True Love.”

Belle laughed back. “Who’s your True Love?”

Rumpelstiltskin didn’t answer. He just smiled and began to swim to keep up with the slow pace of the boat.

He moved better in the river than he did on land. His sinewy arms pulled him forward, unhindered by his bad leg. He looked lighter here, more free. So many of the burdens that troubled him were gone, if only for just a moment.

Belle saw that freedom, that relief, that joy in Rumpelstiltskin’s face, and she wanted to be a part of it. After only the briefest hesitation, she pulled her dress and her chemise up over her head and dove into the water after him.

He greeted her with a shocked smile. “My lady!”

“I’m hardly acting like a lady now,” she said. “You mustn’t tell anyone back home about this.”

“I would never,” he said softly. “All your secrets are safe with me.”

In the cool water, Belle felt a warmth begin inside her heart. Her eyes met Rumpelstiltskin’s and he didn’t break away. His gaze washed over her face in clear adoration.

Her breath stopped. She understood.

His eyes stayed on her as he swam closer. Only water separated their naked bodies. Rumpelstiltskin’s arm found her waist, and he pulled her closer.

He kissed her.

Under the cool water and the earthy taste of the river, she found the warmth of his lips and the flavor of him. His mouth covered hers and his hands pressed into her skin, but he held back. He didn’t move, he didn’t pull her any closer than she was. When they parted, he kept his eyes on her face. It was the first time she realized how deliberately he wasn’t looking at her bare bosom.

He shook his head and swam back, breaking the connection between them.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“No,” Belle followed him. “You did nothing wrong. Nothing that I didn’t want.”

“But you are a lady,” he said. “And I’m--I’m the lowest of the low.”

“You’re a good man.” She reached out to touch his arm. “You’re gentle. You’re caring with your sheep and your son. You listen to me. My thoughts and ideas matter to you. That--that means more than birth or rank.”

He took her hand from his arm and held it in his own. The contrast between them was clear--soft and lilywhite against scarred and tanned--but it didn’t matter. Not when their spirits were so clearly equal and matched.

Belle pulled herself up to him, keeping one hand in his but placing the other on the back of his head. She brought him down to her lips.

This kiss was longer, and sweeter, and more needful. They broke apart slowly, drifting away in the sluggish current.

“A secret,” Rumpelstiltskin whispered. He seemed to be making up his mind. “We can have this, if it stays a secret. I don’t want to ruin you.”

“You couldn’t,” Belle answered. “Not in any way that really matters. But yes, this can be a secret, if that is what you want.”

“Please,” he said. “For your sake.”

“As you wish, Rumple.”

#rumbelle showdown #round two entry #author: Muenster Maven

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writingwhimsey · 1 year

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Sexy to the Rescue!

Part of @xxsycamore's Late Summer Rendezvous challenge!

Day 1: Sexy Lifeguard

Fandom: ikesen

Suitor: Shingen Takeda

Modern AU, NSFW content, fingering, PIV, unprotected sex, female reader

Sexy to the Rescue!

I took a deep breath as I made my way out of the women’s locker rooms at the public pool. It took every ounce of self confidence I had to put on this bikini, but…I had to try something. I’d been coming to the pool almost daily now with my best friend. Swimming was the best way to beat the heat during this sweltering summer we had been experiencing…but that wasn’t the only reason we had been coming.

“I saved you a spot here!” Misa, my friend called to me.

I smiled at her as I made my way over. “Did you make sure we have a good view?” I asked.

Misa grinned. “Oh most definitely.” She said, giggling. “Just sit down and take a look.”

I sat down on the lounge chair next to Misa and looked across the pool. The lifeguard stand was directly across from us. Currently the stand was filled by a young man with light brown hair, but we knew that he was due to go on break soon. “Oh, once he comes out, we’ll have the perfect view.” I said, grinning.

Misa giggled. “Definitely. Plus he should be walking right by here.”

“We’d better apply our sunscreen then.” I told MIsa.

Misa nodded. “Very true.”

We grabbed our bottles of sunscreen out and slowly began to apply it. Just as I was putting it on my legs, the doors to the guard house were coming open and the real reason we had been coming to the pool was walking out. Mister Tall Dark and Sexy, all broad shoulders, rippling muscles, and washboard abs. Not to mention a one hundred watt smile that was too charming for any woman to resist. The lifeguard known as Shingen.

He sauntered out, looking ever the picture of sex appeal. He smiled and nodded his head at everyone who greeted him as he past. He paused briefly in front of me and Misa. “Well, hello ladies. It’s good to see you again today.” He greeted, that smile the most charming thing I had ever seen, making my heart do flips in my chest.

Despite my racing heart, I smiled at him, hoping it would be as seductive as his own smile. “Good to see you as always Shingen.”

He smiled at me and opened his mouth to say something when the other lifeguard was calling out to him in an annoyed tone. “Shingen! Stop flirting and get over here! It’s my break time and you have duties to attend to!”

Shingen sighed. “I’ll be there in a moment. I can’t let beauty go unappreciated.” He was then turning back to me and Misa. “You ladies stay safe and I’ll see you at the next guard change.” He was then walking away, the eyes of every woman following him.

“Oh, I hate to see him go, but I love to watch him leave.” I murmured.

“I hear you.” Misa replied, fanning herself. “But did you notice he came over to talk to us? He didn’t stop at any of the other sunbathing ladies…and mentioned that we were beautiful. Though I am certain his eyes were on you.”

“It’s hard to tell with those sunglasses.” I replied. “I would only be so flattered.”

“Bet it’s that new bikini. I told you to go for it.” Misa replied.

“He was probably just being nice.” I replied. “Though I won’t lie, I do enjoy the attention. It’s a nice confidence boost.”

“You know that bastard didn’t deserve you and everything he said was a lie.” Misa said, referring to my ex. “And I bet you that Shingen does fancy you.”

“In my dreams.” I replied. “My very..vivid and sexy dreams.”

Misa giggled. “Do those dreams include a rescue?”

“Sometimes.” I answered.

“Why not make those dreams a reality?” Misa asked, a mischievous grin on her face.

By this point we had finished applying our sunscreen and were both reclined back on the chairs, our sunglasses on, hiding the fact that we were ogling Shingen. “What do you mean?” I asked.

“Go in the deep end and pretend to drown…maybe you’ll even get lucky enough for a little mouth to mouth.” Misa answered with a giggle.

I felt my cheeks heating up. “I don’t think I could do that…”

“I could push you in if that would help.” Misa suggested. “Come on, you’ve been making googly eyes at him all summer and he’s been stopping to talk to you. Take some action.”

“Well…I mean he would be doing his job…” I replied.

I don’t know how I ended up agreeing to this, but the next thing I knew, Misa and I were walking to the snackbar. We picked a spot where it was especially slippery by the pool and Misa pushed me in, though made it look like an accident.

I let out a loud eek as I fell in the pool, closing my eyes and holding my breath to brace myself. I heard Misa letting out a convincing scream as I fell into the water. She was a good actress. It was a few moments later there was a splash in the pool and very soon, I felt two large arms wrapping around me and we were soon breaking the surface of the water.

I was being carried out of the pool and though I knew I needed to keep my eyes closed, there was no way I could. I cracked my eyes open just a bit and sure enough, I was being cradled against that broad chest belonging to Shingen.

“Are you alright?” He asked me, his voice so gentle and filled with concern.

Reflexively, I opened my eyes and looked up at him. His sunglasses were off now, revealing the most gorgeous gray eyes…the term bedroom eyes flitted through my mind as my breath caught. I nodded, unable to find my voice being this close to someone so sexy.

He smiled at me before turning to speak to someone else. “I’ll be taking her to the medical room in the back of the guard house to look her over.” He said.

“Oh, that would be best. Thank you.” Misa’s voice said, sounding so concerned even though we both knew I was fine.

Another lifeguard was coming out to keep watch as Shingen carried me to the medical unit in the back of the guard house. Once we were inside, he was sitting me down on an exam table they had. “You know, you didn’t have to put on that show just to get me alone. Though it was a good excuse.”

I looked up at him feigning innocence. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. It’s a bit slippery out there.”

Shingen chuckled as he came to sit down beside me on the exam table beside me. He lifted a hand to my wet hair, taking a strand between his fingers and toying with it as he leaned in close. “Are you trying to tell me you haven’t been trying to get my attention all summer? I know I’ve been trying to get yours.”

I felt my cheeks heating up. “Shingen…”

He leaned in, his face mere inches from mine. “I noticed your beauty the first time you walked out of the locker rooms. You are a beautiful woman and I would be lying if I were to say I hadn’t been hoping you would be in need of a rescue on my shift…though I was hoping to get to do mouth to mouth.”

“Well…you don’t need the rescue for that.” I found myself saying.

Shingen grinned at me and the next thing I knew his gorgeous lips were on mine. The kiss quickly deepened as his tongue teased my lips open and his arms wrapped around my waist, his large frame completely enveloping me in an instant.

My own arms wrapped around his neck and I found myself pressing my body close to his. With our swimwear, we were both already mostly skin to skin…and I felt hot all over. Our tongues twisted and tangled together, as I felt Shingen’s large hands moving over my curves and up my back before going to the string that held my bikini top on.

I gasped into the kiss as I felt him tug on the strings and my top was sliding off. We broke the kiss and Shingen gave me a sheepish look. “Forgive me…if you don’t want this…”

“I…I do.” I replied, breathless. “I…I am just surprised…and what if someone were to walk in?”

“I’ve locked the door.” Shingen replied, grinning at me.

“Well…it looks like you’ve thought of everything.” I replied. I was then throwing myself at him, pressing my lips to his. His arms were around me once more and he was pulling me into his lap.

I found myself becoming bold, my hands roaming over the defined muscles of his body as his own hands explored my dips and curves. His hands were so gentle and warm. I could feel the press of his erection through his trunks as it continued to grow stiffer beneath me.

I found myself grinding against him, wanting to feel some type of friction. Shingen groaned into our kiss. “Angel…you’re going to make me grow impatient.” He murmured against my lips, his fingers toying with the strings of my bikini bottoms.

“Y-you’re…not the only one…” I replied.

Shingen grinned at me as he pulled on the strings, taking my bikini bottoms off quickly, now having me fully bare while I sat on his lap. “You’re even more beautiful than I imagined.”

“You’ve…been imagining…?”

“You are a beautiful woman, my angel, my goddess. How could a man not imagine worshiping you?” He replied before swiftly moving us so that I was lying back on the exam table. He leaned down to spread kisses over my body, his lips covering every inch as his hands had earlier.

He reached my breasts and lavished them in affection, taking a hardened peak into his mouth, licking and sucking as his hands moved to rest on my thighs, squeezing and massaging. His thumbs gently moved on the insides of my thighs in a circling motion.

“Ah…Sh-shin…gen…” I moaned from his touch, but also wishing for more.

Shingen smiled around my breast as he moved one hand slowly up my thigh, bringing his fingers to the center of my heart. He began to stroke my sensitive bud, causing me to let out a cry of pleasure. I clapped my hand over my mouth, not wanting to draw attention from anyone outside.

“That was a beautiful sound.” Shingen said, beginning to increase the pace of his fingers between my thighs before moving to slide two inside, while his thumb circled my clit.

I gasped and moaned, biting my hand to keep myself quiet as the waves of pleasure washed over me.

Shingen kissed back up my neck, his free hand moving up to take mine from my mouth. “I can’t have my goddess injuring herself to keep from attracting attention.” He cooed. “I’ll have to help you.” His lips were on mine then, swallowing my gasps and moans as he continued to work me.

I bucked my hips against his hand, enjoying the sensation and yet still craving more. It didn’t take long for Shingen to pull his hand from my heat. I let out a sound of frustration and pouted into the kiss.

Shingen broke the kiss to smile at me. “Don’t worry my angel, I intend to take care of you.” He said, sliding his trunks off. “I’ll have you thoroughly worshiped and pleased by the time we leave this room.”

The next thing I knew, he had positioned himself between my parted thighs and I soon felt him sliding into my wet entrance. His lips were on mine once again, swallowing the moan I let out at the feeling of his length filling me, hitting so deeply inside me and stretching me in the most wonderful of ways.

I clung to him as he came to rest inside me a moment before slowly pulling back out and then sliding back in. His thrusts began slow and deliberate, getting me used to the feeling of him. His massive frame engulfed me as he held me close.

His pace increased and soon a lewd slapping sound filled the small exam room, accompanied by our pants and gasps. The coil in my core wound tighter and tighter with each thrust and soon, I was falling over the edge, my walls clamping hard around him. I moaned into his mouth and he groaned as my release pulled him into his.

We were panting as we came down from our high. Shingen smiled at me. “How would you like to do this again…when my shift is over at my place?”

“I…I think that sounds like a wonderful time.” I replied, returning his smile…and I knew this was all only the beginning.

taglist: @zulablaise @limonzu

#late summer rendezvous #late summer rendezvous !#ikesen #ikesen shingen #ikesen au #modern au #ikesen modern au #shingen taked #ikemen shingen #ikemen sengoku #cybird ikemen #otome shingen #cybird shingen #cybird otome #ikemen series #fanfic #fanficiotn #fanfic au

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