#Comfort Womens Motorcycle Pants Black

[leathercollectionus]

Womens Motorcycle Pants Comfort

Comfort womens motorcycle pants Black are made of advanced protective leather helping to improve the safety standards. Including exceptional measures related to the comfort and ease of the rider. Unfinished hems, get hemmed as you desire.

Womens Motorcycle Pants Comfort

[pthalogreenwriter]

Trouville Limerence - Chapter 1

A/n: This is going to be the slowest of burns that I have ever written in my life. If I'm missing any tags, comment what they are and I'll add them!

Wc: 4.1k

Summary: Hitman/Assassin!Gojo x Reader where he's very Yandere but doesn't want to kill you, he is genuinely obsessed with you.

Important background info for readers: Kaisen: A company that hires enhanced people as individual contractors, paying them through the funding of personal clients and the government, to kill the worst people in society (those that are pedophiles, killers, beaters of women and children, and so on.) All enhanced contractors have super strength, immense speed and reflexes, immense endurance, great tactical strength, enhanced senses. (Rules: no women or children.)

Warning: gore, descriptions of unaliving someone else (tumblr its fake), Gojo being annoying

Satoru Gojo woke up that Friday to the same alarm he woke up to everyday. 

He sat up and slapped his hand down on the clock, promising he would get himself a new one that wasn’t as loud as the one on his nightstand. Gojo was a light sleeper after all, he had to be now that he was in charge of Megumi Fushiguro. 

Fushiguro. It’s been two years since Toji went missing on an assignment and was never heard from again. He dropped Megumi off at Gojo’s in case it took the whole night to get the job done. Turns out, Toji was never able to finish it. 

So Gojo took Megumi in for his friend without question and now years later, he was taking the kid to school, which he didn’t mind at all. Being guardian of Megumi kept him in check. Small mundane things like buying groceries, cleaning up, and schedules became important to Gojo now that he was responsible for someone else’s life. 

Before Fushiguro, Gojo lived the life he wanted to. Working in the day, partying and getting fucked up at night. He brought anyone he wanted home, getting off on anonymity more than the actual person. He was satisfied with the life, no complaints.

And then when Fushiguro came into his life, it changed. No more hookups, he couldn’t just order in anymore since it was unhealthy, and he had to trade in his motorcycle for an actual car. Despite that, he had Megumi. Yeah, the kid was stoic and was always annoyed by him, but Gojo quickly learned that he was like that with everyone, so he wasn’t offended. If anything, Gojo was satisfied that Megumi treated him like everyone else because that way, he knew the kid was comfortable. Yes, he was satisfied with this life too. No complaints.

Except, there was a small one. 

Satoru Gojo was just satisfied. He wasn’t happy. He hasn’t been in a long time.

It was 7:05am when Gojo sighed and decided to get up from his bed, finally waking up Fushiguro even though the kid beat him to the punch everyday like clockwork. He doesn’t know if it was his heightened senses or the food, but Gojo can smell the breakfast aromas coming from the kitchen. He can only hope that Fushiguro saved some for him.

Gojo went to the bathroom and brushed his teeth before going to the kitchen and laughing to himself once he saw Megumi. Although not related, Fushiguro picked up some habits of Gojo before he could stop himself. It started when They would both eat before deciding to get dressed, not wanting to get food on their day clothes. Soon, Megumi started wearing sweatpants to bed when he saw Gojo wake up with different ones all the time, finding them rather comfy himself. The only regret he has with them is that once in a while, both Gojo and Megumi would wake up with matching pants. This annoyed Fushiguro while always amusing the guardian for obvious reasons. This morning was that once in a while.

“Good morning Megumi! How’d you sleep?” It wouldn’t matter what time it was, Gojo always had a better tone than Fushiguro.

A grunt in reply came from Megumi with a “Your food is on the counter.”

Gojo looked and there it was, sitting on the black counter of the kitchen. He grabbed his plate and utensils, thanking Fushiguro by rubbing the top of his head and annoying him further. Gojo continued standing, lower back leaning on the counter while they both ate in silence. Fushiguro’s version of quality time.

Once finished, Gojo washed their dishes and they both continued on with their morning routine. While Fushiguro showered, Gojo picked his standard button up and black slacks for work. Then he did his morning check of the place. 

Prior to Megumi, Gojo was comfortable sleeping with only one lock on the door. He had no deadbolts, windows were open while he slept, and knives were hidden everywhere. He could have taken on anyone who wanted to try it, he knew that. But with someone else under his roof, let alone a child, Gojo knew that if there was a possibility of someone breaking in, then there was a possibility of Megumi getting hurt. And with his line of work, Satoru couldn’t take that chance. 

Gojo killed for a living. He was the murderer of killers, and he loved it. The training he endured as a teen was not what he initially wanted, but he made the best of it. He had no idea at the time what the training would do for him, until one day he decided to actually give “working hard” a try. He became faster, stronger, and smarter when he learned how to hone in on his senses and abilities. 

Satoru excelled at it all, much better than his classmates, with the exception of Suguro Geto. They trained together and when time came, they killed together. All the murderers, pedophiles, and beaters were at their mercy as much as they wanted. It was the thrill of a lifetime to make memories with his best friend while they were at the top of the food chain. Gojo was more than satisfied. Not happy, but close.

And when Toji went missing, Gojo worked on bigger cases that paid more to have more time at home with Megumi. Again, Gojo didn’t care. He would rather take care of him than some freak family he rarely heard Toji talk about. They didn’t even care enough to fight for him in court. 

But Gojo would. He would fight for Fushiguro any day. Now that he had him, he actually had a reason now to give a fuck about himself and someone else. 

Yet, that wasn’t what he was missing, judging by the constant empty pit in his chest. 

He was thinking about this feeling again when he was checking the windows and doors. Gojo didn’t keep knives hidden everywhere because he didn’t think Fushiguro was ready for that conversation yet but he was still glad to feel the ones he had strapped above the living room window and under the right side of the couch. Feeling those in his morning and night checks always helped him relax a little bit and continue on. 

Once Fushiguro left the bathroom, Gojo got ready himself. They were out of the house by their usual time, 8am. Megumi needed to get to his school by 8:30am but lately preferred getting there 15 minutes early to hang with his new friend, Yuji. Gojo was surprised when he first asked, but he was glad that Megumi actually looked forward to talking to someone.

Gojo got to the Kaisen building a little before 9am, like always. Parking his car in the building garage, he took a long deep breath before getting out. 

Yeah Gojo loved his job. Getting paid in millions to kill people worse than him was the dream, and he wouldn’t trade it for anything. He toyed with the idea of becoming a regular cop but he knew it would never be possible. The justice system always failed and he preferred the idea of Kaisen fixing the government’s mistakes. Besides, killing was just too much fun.

Satoru Gojo would’ve been the same as the lives he’s ended if he didn’t have his own moral compass. He resented the idea of harming women and children. There was no joy or need to harm them in this life so why do others have that urge? 

It doesn’t matter.

Gojo never listened to their reasoning or pleas. Instead, it made it more fun when they begged him to live. As if he would ever let them. He took his time with his case subjects, just like they would with their victims. Only difference was that he could get away with it. If Gojo ever saw their name on a black file, they never had a chance. 

He wouldn’t always kill the same either. Depending on what they did, Gojo would use different ways to end their lives. Stabbing, burning, if he’s bored, he’ll take them to the woods to hunt them. His personal favorite was by his own hands, beating them to death. 

The only thing each of his kills had in common, was the way he made them look into his eyes as he felt the life leave their bodies. Gojo almost got off on it, if he was that kind of person. But to feel them die in his hands while they looked at him as if he was the monster was the closest he ever got to feeling like a God. 

Gojo took the elevator up to the near top of the building where his office was. He shared the floor with other contractors like Geto and Kento Nanami, men he was glad he could call friends. Both had watched Fushiguro when Gojo had to finish an assignment outside of work hours, helping him as when they all helped Toji. 

Reaching the floor his office was on, the first person that Gojo talked to in the building was Kiyotaka Ijichi. 

Ijichi was leaving Geto’s office when he saw Gojo exit the elevator and mentally prepared himself for the interaction with the contractor. He didn’t hate him, if anything Ijichi was also on the small list that’s trusted to watch Fushigurl on a long day. No, Gojo was just a pain in the ass. 

“Satoru, you were the next person I was going to see.” 

“Awww, did you miss me Ijichi?” Gojo looked at his friend in the suit with a sly smile as his sunglasses slipped a centimeter down the bridge of his nose. 

They entered Gojo’s office, similar to the other large offices on the floor - white walls and ash gray furniture. The desk, couch, and 2 chairs all faced the west side of the room where a TV was hanging on the wall, next to the door of the bathroom. Instead of a back wall, it was large full sized window panes and door, leading out to a black balcony. If you looked close enough, you could see the dust starting to form everywhere but the desk. That’s how much Gojo actually used the office. 

Ijichi wasted no time in his reply, “Actually, no. I’m here about your current case.”

The black folder sat closed on Gojo’s desk as if it was never opened, but he had read it all. Inside the folder, there were pictures of victims, faces and genitals mutilated with what they now know to be a scalpel. Women, early teens to mid 40s, all with exotic colors dyed in their hair as highlights. This was how he chose them.

Depending on the time, the killer would go for women in low or middle class society. The time meaning if he felt like taking a risk or not. Tonight, he was taking a different risk. 

“Well, months after the acquittal and constant surveillance, we can definitely say for sure that Mahito is the Seam Sinner.” This was the name the public came up with after the first two murders. “He waited for it to die down and didn’t go anywhere other than his med-school classes, ordering everything to his place. Until a few days ago, he got bored and we got lucky.” Ijichi paused himself on the update, realizing his mistake. “Although, the girl didn’t.”

Gojo’s usual playful energy escaped from the room at that moment. His expression turned flat, knowing what was to come. Another black file that was in Ijichi’s hand was then placed in front of him. Gojo didn’t notice it until now. 

He opened the folder. Like the others, the girl’s hair was dyed with highlights, this time they were red. Her face and body were cut up with a familiar pattern, shaped like stitches and seams. There was no DNA of his, only pools of her blood around her body, showing that she died of massive blood loss. Pictures of him leaving the abandoned building where her body was later found followed. 

After letting Gojo examine the pictures and reports from Kaisen and the police, Ijichi continued on. “Once her body was found, he didn’t want to wait. Maybe he is on some sort of kill high but last night we found him bringing plastic sheeting and rope he got delivered to his place to another building. He may still already have the scalpel that he’s been using to go at it again tonight.”

The contractor hummed in his seat while he pushed his hands in his pocket and dipped his head. He thought in silence for a moment, confirming what he came up with before. He already knew how he was going to handle Mahito.

“Okay, sounds like a plan.” He wanted to mess with Ijichi one more time before he left the office and said no more. 

The suited man stood in front of the grey desk in silence waiting for Gojo to say something else. No answer.

A minute passed before Gojo collected both folders and tried to give them to his friend. He wouldn’t take them.

Satoru pouted before giving in, his goofy mannerisms coming back like a switch. He was a killer, but silly at heart. He groaned as if this was his second time explaining what he wanted to do. “Keep your men on him for the next twenty-four hours. I have to pick up Megumi from school, but I’ll see him if Geto can watch him tonight. I’ll check him out after lunch but bring me the building address on a sticky note by then. He’ll be gone by the morning. And only him.”

Ijichi was content with that answer yet didn’t leave the room. He wanted to know how Fushiguro was doing, after all, he was close with Tojii too when he was here.

Gojo looked at him from his computer and laughed a bit. “Megumi’s doing well. Don’t worry, he’s doing better in school than I ever did. He’s even made friends.” He saw the surprised look on Ijichi’s face and corrected himself. “Or other kids made friends with him.”

Kiyotaka was finally happy with the exchange of information and left the office without another word. Gojo shrugged on and continued his day with his own thoughts on the Mahito case.

He was acquitted after circumstantial evidence, unreliable witnesses, and no murder weapon was presented at trial. After a while, the body count leaked, pressuring the government to try and close the case as quickly as possible, but ended up letting a guilty man walk free. Kaizen kept tabs on him from the first moment his name popped up in the suspect pool. So did Gojo.

He was looking forward to this moment, not caring to admit it or not. He thought a lot about what he would do if it was Mahito, not having a good feeling about him from the start. By lunch, Gojo didn’t care much to think about how he would kill him, knowing no matter what way he chose, Mojito was going to die while looking into his eyes. 

Once he thought it was a good time, Gojo left the office (with the sticky note) to wait for Geto, driving to lunch together to meet with Nanami. Updating each other on their upcoming weekend plans, Geto agreed to watch Fushiguro that night. He sometimes thought the kid liked to have him around when Gojo was busy. Probably because he didn’t bother him like the way his guardian did on a daily basis. 

The place Nanami chose was quiet in order not to overwhelm any of them. When Gojo and Geto walked in, Nanami had already ordered food for them. He couldn’t wait if he ever wanted to keep to his schedule, yet he never minded having lunch with the pair. 

While they spoke and ate, all three men avoided the topic of work. They all agreed before Toji left that if they wanted to hang out with Megumi, they had to learn to not talk about their cases outside of the office and to have regular conversations. It helped them normalize their lives in a way, not everyone in the world was like them nor saw the things they did. It wasn’t difficult for any of them, but Gojo did have something that he thought was going to be odd to talk about. 

The empty feeling in the pit of his heart hadn’t gone away and he didn’t know what was wrong. He’s felt it before and the pit only grew more hollow as the days passed by. Day after day, the same routine. 

Looking at Nanami’s watch across the table, Gojo had to say something before his friends left. They were going to drive back to the office together while Gojo would surveillance Mahito and pick up Megumi later. 

“Do you guys ever get bored?” He didn’t have a better way to put the feeling into words. 

Both Geto and Nanami looked at him but Geto was the first to speak, “Of you? Of course.”

Satoru nudged his friend in the ribs with his elbow before replying in the same manner, “You could never get tired of me Suguru.”

Nanami across the table looked at the time and sat back finishing his drink. He had a few more minutes, “Bored of what?”

Gojo and Geto were still exchanging elbows when they heard Nanami’s question. Gojo stopped to focus, letting Geto get the last elbow in. 

“Of this, everything. The same routine day in and out. Its starting to get exhausting.” Not only exhausting, but the rut in his chest and head was starting to bum him out. He found it rather annoying. 

“...does this have to do with Fushiguro?” Nanami was almost hesitant to ask the question, afraid to hear his friend’s answer. He had hopes that Gojo would mature with Megumi in his guard and he saw this happen since the child started living with him. But that didn’t mean Gojo couldn’t just one day feel like he wasn’t up for it anymore.

The lean man shook his head immediately, “No, nothing. Things are fine with Megumi.” He paused in thought before giving his friends (and himself) an honest answer. “It's the things in between. There’s always the same next thing to do. I think Megumi felt the same before the start of the school year, until he became friends with that Itadori kid.”

Kento Nanami and Suguru Geto both stayed silent after hearing their friend’s confession. Truth be told, they didn’t know what to say to Satoru. Both men had the freedom and time availability to live the life they wanted, do the things they would want to do if they were in his headspace. But they listened and were sensible, they knew Satoru would only come to them for this.

After another moment, Geto raised his eyebrows in realization and exchanged a look with Nanami, the blonde man knitting his brows in confusion. Geto was signing the check for their lunch when he gave his thoughts, “Maybe you need to find a friend too.”

Nanami shook his head at the idea while Gojo shot his head to the brunette. He thought of this before but he didn’t think it was a good idea to add something, or someone, to his and Fushiguro’s schedule.

When Gojo said nothing, Geto kept going. “I’m not saying get married and tell them what you do. You don’t want to scare them. But maybe you should find someone for those in between moments, someone to look forward to until the next time.” 

“And if I am bored with them too?” That was rhetorical, they all knew Gojo could get someone if he wanted to, only thing was that he never did. Fushiguro was his first priority and he couldn’t bring just anyone home. The idea of bringing a stranger home made Gojo shift in his seat.

It was like Kento could read his mind when he spoke, “It may not be practical to find a person because you’re…bored, but it is reasonable. In time, Fushiguro will start middle school and will want to be with his friends more. By that time, you may need to find something to busy your time with as well. I agree with Suguru, but start slow. Be careful with bringing someone into a child’s life.”

If Geto and Gojo didn’t know who Nanami was, they would think that it was rude or weird that he looked at his watch a lot. Though, they knew he was only being precise and when he arose from his seat unannounced, they weren’t surprised either. 

The three of them walked out the restaurant to the work cars that were parked next to each other. Gojo stayed silent the whole walk. It was a short moment but still it worried Geto, making him want to help his friend further.

“How about this? I will pick up Megumi today so you can go to a bar or something. When was the last time you went out?” He leaned against the passenger side of the black car, Nanami silently groaning from impatience. 

“Going to a bar by myself to pick someone up sounds like the worst idea I could do.” Gojo preferred clubs to bars before he had Fushiguro in his custody. Yet, he never really missed it or had an urge to go. I’ll live.

Geto got in the car with Nanami putting their windows down to finish the conversation. Before they pulled away with no bid of goodbye, Geto secured his offer, “Either way, I will pick up Megumi from school so you can have time to yourself until tomorrow. You should be able to think of something to do with yourself by then.”

As Gojo got in the car and drove, he thought about what his friends said. He couldn’t really imagine getting involved with someone right now, or ever really. It didn’t seem right to bring anyone in his life with the amount of danger he faces, or the amount of danger he makes others face. 

What if I tell them what I do and they think I’m a monster? That would suck.

What if I bring someone home and they hurt Megumi? Poor kid already lost his dad, and I can’t let him get hurt again.

On the way to Mahito’s, Gojo kept his windows in his own car down to distract him from these thoughts and the dullness growing in his gut. He started thinking about his afternoon work plans when he pulled to a stop at a pedestrian walk, focusing on his mental to do list.

Park 2 streets away. His studio is crammed low on the street so I’ll pick the same shop from last time. The girl at the counter likes me so she’ll let me stay as long as I need. Mahito will leave for class at 14:00, taking the-

Satoru stopped thinking. He couldn’t at all. It was like he didn’t have power over anything in his body except smell. It was a smell that made him stop everything. 

The light was still red and Gojo’s demeanor changed. His body stiffened, eyes going wide behind the sunglasses and head turning from one place to another to try and locate where it was coming from. The ambrosial smell was fresh and crisp, yet soft. But to Gojo, it was strong, so strong that it seemed to clear his sinuses. 

Water hyacinths? No that’s not it.

His nose flared with every inhale he took through his nose. It was addictive and he couldn’t get enough of it. He needed more. 

Lilies and mint? Where is it coming from?

His grip on the wheel tightened as he turned his attention to the people on the pedestrian walk. He inhaled through his mouth, wanting the smell to be deep inside his lungs, to imbed inside his capillaries and blood vessels, spreading throughout his body. 

Lotus. Eucalyptus. A hint of baby wipes, soft clean cotton.

It was as if once his mind realized what it smelled like, it led him to you.

The sight of you was breathtaking. Gojo ended up replaying this moment in his head everyday for the rest of his life. The way you scurried across the white lines before the light could turn green made the corner of his lips turn up. You seemed in a rush, and it was the cutest thing he’s ever seen. He saw you rushing through the crowd of people in the street, your cheeks becoming flushed and a thin layer of sweat grew on your body. He could smell that too. 

You were long past the crosswalk when a car behind Gojo beeped at him. The light was green. 

Mahito can fucking wait.

[hotmessmaxpress]

(a/n: I’ve never been only onlyfans. I’m assuming it works like patreon but for nudes? Allegedly you can also tip using the website?)

Rosquez OnlyFans AU, (1/?) Inspired by these posts on @unhinged-motogp-confessions

It's a common misconception that it is easy for Vale to get laid. While he does have the benefit of his celebrity status, charisma, and literal fanclub, that doesn't necessarily equate to a good deal of pussy on a practical level. For one, women often want more commitment from him than he's willing to provide. He has no interest in having a girlfriend at the moment, no matter how good the sex is. On the other hand, women who are comfortable with being one-night-stands sometimes have the air of wanting to exploit the encounter in some way. While he's never had a lover go so far as to take pictures without his consent, he has been made aware of more than enough tweets, blog entries, and other social media posts about his dick and skills as a lover. There is also the issue of Vale's additional preference for men; hooking up with women is risky enough without the threat of forced outing.

The easiest solution is perhaps the most embarrassing: porn. Vale has the money to acquire pretty much any type of porn that he wants, and it's convenient no matter where he is in the world (for the most part).

Vale has a private OnlyFans account with Rossano as the profile picture. It’s on that account that he discovers and subscribes to Marc. MotoMarc93 He is the hottest man Valentino Rossi has ever seen. He’s absolutely fit, six pack and all, and he rarely has a shirt on. He has the face of a model, and Valentino loves it when he smiles. What really makes Marc stand out though, is his garage. Marc has an entire garage of motorcycles. His favorite, that he includes in videos, is an orange and black wrapped Honda Fireblade. Marc is filthy on the bike. Sometimes it’s innocent; thirst trap selfies of himself leaned back on the bike, cock just out of frame. Other times it's a photo over his shoulder, showing the line of his toned back down to his bare ass. Vale pays for everything– he pays for the most expensive monthly subscription, but also buys the pay-per-view shots at every available opportunity. That gives him access to all the videos Marc posts. He posts one in particular of him riding a dildo that he has suction-cupped to the seat that makes Vale come so hard he thinks for a moment that he died. After that video he sends Marc a tip for 1000€ with a message: “amazing video xx”. Marc responds with a question: “what is your name?” That question is a red flag for Valentino, but he is horny and therefore stupid. “Valentino.” There is no response for 24 hours, which terrifies Vale. The next afternoon, however, he receives a direct message from Marc. It’s similar to the previous video, but Marc has changed the camera angle– his camera is set up behind the rear of the bike, but clearly his tripod is standing on something to make it even taller than normal. The angle of the video makes it feel as if Valel is looking down just slightly– like he’s standing behind the bike and watching. Marc takes his time in the video. He walks into frame already naked, grinning, and makes his way toward the bike. He kneels next to it, jerking the dildo off slowly with a grin at the camera before turning, swinging his leg over the bike, and slowly seating himself on the dildo. The camera angle gives Vale a perfect view of where the cock enters Marc's tight hole. He groans as it fills him, and Vale scrambles to free his hard cock from his pants. Marc rocks his hips before sliding up and back down the silicone cock. He moans, rocking up, before he opens his mouth. “Valentino,” he moans. “Harder.” He picks up speed, fucking himself deep and hard on the dildo. Vale pumps his cock in time with the rise and fall of Marc’s hips. He doesn't think he's ever been this invested in a screen before in his life. “Valentino, please,” Marc cries. Vale comes hard, cum shooting nearly up to his chin. He moans as he jerks himself through it.

When he opens his eyes, Marc has reached behind him and picked up the camera. He brings it around his body, and Vale nearly comes again at the sight of Marc’s cum painting the body of the bike, nearly up to the handlebars. The camera flips, and Marc grins and blows a kiss at the camera before the video ends.

[wormsin]

I Need to be the Most Fashionable Bitch at the Airport

8/20/23

I'm at the airport heading to Grandpa's memorial. I'm wearing a black a-shirt that says "ALL THINGS ARE DELICATELY CONNECTED" (jenny holzer truism; gift), oversized black short-sleeve button up with unidentified painting of The Last Judgment (my one aliexpress purchase of weird button ups), grey sweatshirt under black motorcycle jacket (allsaints, mom utterly spoiling me), black cargo pants, sneakers, 3M aura mask.

this combination is extremely comfortable and also lets me be the most fashionable person at the airport, an extremely low bar. as a transmasc its my god-given right to wear oversized shirts. it helps the fit issue of having more hip than mens shirts account for, and can widen the shoulder. i feel most comfortable in clothes that drape my back and hips, that dont come in at the waist, so i often wear these button ups open. its one of two silhouettes that dont make me insanely dysmorphic.

oversized transmasc fashion is sometimes ridiculed but personally im a fan, even as someone who believes right fit is important. 'right ' is just relative. trans/queer people are often manipulating our proportions to pass or signal, and thats because fit and silhouette in fashion is gendered.

off the bat, wearing oversized or proportion-fucking clothing is a lot easier when youre straight sized because there's more clothes for you period and you can find things a size up. also fatness is gendered in a complex way so Your Millage May Vary. anyway—

right now men's and women's silhouettes are very similar. its all slim and about moralizing and accentuating the ''"natural body"". and by accentuate I mean make women look skinnier with a fatter ass and men look skinnier with more muscles. it sucks ass. I could go off on a long rant about the politics of athleisure. there are more variations in shape in streetwear etc. but mens office and formal wear is all very slim right now (derogatory).

this is very different from 1600s france or 1950s america, where the male and female form in fashion were quite different. please dont make the mistake of thinking this uniformity/unisexing is a linear, progressive trend. there are rather cycles of feminizing menswear and masculinizing womenswear based on previous generations (1890s, 1920s, 1960s-now kind of).

so right now, if we want to 'pass' or genderfuck or navigate being gendered correctly, we rely on fine-haired signals. (it's easier to queer code and be read as 'some flavor of gay' ime.) and a lot of that is based on the shape of our bodies. wearing a men's jacket isn't going to shift my gender signals much since women wear menswear inspired womenswear and, to a lesser extent, menswear—but wearing a mens jacket a size up so my shoulders seem wider will shift the needle more. and even if it doesn't, I like how it looks.

there's not actually a formula for this because passing and gendering are highly specified to location, culture, race, age, fatness, how aware of trans people someone is, if there are other queers around you, etc.

more interesting than dialogue about passing are the weirdo trans/queer fashions happening right now which, like all interesting fashion these days, actually have bold shapes. transmasc, butch, and stud fashion often make use of oversized and baggy clothes, especially with the 90s / cargo / wide pant resurgence. and there's lots going on with weirdo niche fashion like clowncore. people were dragging Elliot Page's fashion (Balenciaga 2022, 2021 met gala) but its deliberate.

I feel pretty gay and trans at the airport, especially when I hit the middle of the country. but I did once see a man flagging black at an airport with a tattoo that said "ITS A LIFESTYLE"—so there's room for improvement.

[lesacollection]

Ride in Style Everything You Need to Know About Leather Jackets

Discover all there is to know about leather jackets with our in-depth guide. Our selection includes useful leather motorcycle or riding jackets, tough men's leather jackets, and fashionable leather jackets for ladies. At Lesa Collection USA, discover the classic attraction of this wardrobe staple and learn how to take care of, style, and maximize your leather jacket.

Leather jackets have been associated with fashion, defiance, and adaptability for many years. They are the best option whether you want to invest in a classic wardrobe piece, create a fashion statement, or keep secure while traveling. In this tutorial, we'll look at the many kinds of leather jackets, their special qualities, and the reasons why both men and women need them.

1. The Timeless Allure of Leather Jackets

A leather jacket represents more than just a piece of clothing; it embodies a way of life. Due to its durability and protective qualities, leather jackets gained popularity among travelers and military personnel as early as the 1900s. Over time, they became a staple in popular culture, especially among motorcyclists, celebrities, and fashion enthusiasts.

2. Leather Jackets for Women

Women's leather jacket designs strive to blend fashion with functionality. From massive designs to custom forms, you'll find an appearance that fits all preferences.

Popular Styles: Women are wearing bomber jackets, moto jackets, and cropped leather jackets.

How to Style: Wear a brown leather jacket over a flowy dress for a boho outlook, or pair a black leather jacket with skinny jeans and ankle boots for a traditional style.

Why Choose One: Women's leather jackets are versatile and add a touch of boldness to any outfit.

3. Men’s Leather Jackets: A Symbol of Masculinity and Style

Men's leather jackets have long been linked to carefree style and raw appeal. They are an outfit must that radiates luxury and confidence.

Top Styles:distressed leather jackets, bomber jackets, and vintage motorcycle jackets.

Colors: The most common colors are brown and black, which work well for both professional and social environments.

Styling Tips: A leather jacket may be worn with tailored pants for a more put-together look or over a basic T-shirt, jeans, and boots for a more casual style.

4. Leather Motorcycle Jackets: Combining Safety and Style

A leather motorcycle jacket is necessary for protection and is more than simply a stylish accessory for riders.

Features:For utility, these coats frequently have pockets, zippers, and increased padding.

Why Bikers Love Them: Motorcycle jackets made of leather give a sleek, fashionable appearance and abrasion resistance, guaranteeing road safety.

Pro Tip: For comfort on lengthy rides, get a jacket with ventilation characteristics.

5. Leather Riding Jackets: Function Meets Elegance

For outdoor lovers and equestrians who appreciate comfort and longevity, leather riding jackets are perfect.

Unique Features: Designed to give warmth and flexibility during outdoor activities.

Why They’re Different: Riding jackets are often longer and designed for more mobility than regular leather jackets.

Style Tip: For a classic country-inspired style, go for a neutral color like sand or brown.

6. How to Care for Your Leather Jacket

Taking good care of your leather jacket is crucial to maintaining its durability and quality.

Cleaning:Use a moist towel and mild soap to clean your jacket. Don't let it soak in water.

Conditioning: To keep the leather flexible and avoid cracking, use a leather conditioner.

Storage: To keep your jacket from fading, keep it out of direct sunlight and store it somewhere cool and dry.

7. Why Leather Jackets Are Worth the Investment

Classic accessories that never go out of style are leather jackets. Here's why you should add them to your wardrobe:

Durability: If properly cared for, high-quality leather may endure for generations.

Versatility: You may dress them up or down for any kind of event.

Style Statement: Whether you're drawn to a stylish riding jacket or a vibrant biker jacket, leather jackets provide individuality to any group.

More than just a piece of clothing, a leather jacket is a declaration of uniqueness, self-assurance, and classic style. There is the ideal leather jacket for everyone, ranging from fitting jackets for ladies to tough designs for men, and from motorcycle jackets to riding necessities. Look no further than the Lesa Collection for elegant, long-lasting, and useful leather jackets. Today, appreciate the unparalleled attraction of leather jackets and ride in style!

[tamseel]

Speed Meets Style: Iconic Biker Jackets for Women

Biker jackets have been an enduring symbol of style, strength, and independence for decades. For women, they offer a perfect blend of edgy aesthetics and practical comfort, making them a wardrobe essential for both fashion enthusiasts and motorcycling aficionados alike. From sleek leather designs to vibrant, modern variations, women biker jackets come in a wide range of styles that can suit any personality and occasion.

In this blog, we’ll take a deep dive into the world of iconic women biker jackets, exploring their origins, the best styles available today, and tips for rocking this look with confidence. Whether you’re cruising on a bike or simply walking down the street, these jackets effortlessly combine speed with style.

The Evolution of Women Biker Jackets

Biker jackets first appeared on the fashion scene in the 1920s, designed for motorcyclists as a way to protect them from harsh weather conditions and potential road accidents. The original design, known as the "Perfecto," was created by Schott NYC and became synonymous with the rugged lifestyle of bikers. Soon after, Hollywood movies like The Wild One cemented the biker jacket as a symbol of rebellion and coolness.

While men’s biker jackets initially stole the spotlight, women quickly embraced the trend, and designers began crafting styles specifically for them. By the 1960s and 1970s, women biker jackets were gaining popularity, thanks in part to rockstars and countercultural icons like Joan Jett and Debbie Harry. These women redefined the biker jacket, making it a bold statement piece that exuded confidence and freedom.

Today, women biker jackets are not just for motorcyclists; they’ve become an essential item for anyone looking to add an edge to their outfit. Whether paired with jeans and boots or styled with dresses and heels, these jackets offer endless styling possibilities.

Iconic Women Biker Jacket Styles

When it comes to iconic women biker jackets, there are several standout styles that have become classics. Here’s a look at some of the most iconic and stylish biker jackets for women.

1. The Classic Leather Biker Jacket

The classic leather biker jacket is perhaps the most recognizable of all. Featuring an asymmetrical zipper, wide lapels, and silver hardware, this jacket is the epitome of biker chic. Typically made from high-quality leather, this jacket offers durability, comfort, and that quintessential rebellious look that never goes out of style.

While black is the go-to color for a leather biker jacket, modern variations come in a range of colors like red, blue, and even metallics. If you want to make a bold fashion statement, opt for one in a vibrant hue to stand out from the crowd.

2. The Cropped Biker Jacket

For a more contemporary take on the traditional biker jacket, the cropped version offers a fresh, stylish alternative. Cropped women biker jackets hit at the waist, giving them a more feminine silhouette. This style is perfect for layering over dresses or high-waisted pants, making it versatile enough to dress up or down.

The cropped biker jacket still retains the key features of a classic biker jacket, such as the zippers and lapels, but its shorter length adds a modern twist.

3. The Oversized Biker Jacket

In contrast to the cropped version, the oversized biker jacket brings an effortlessly cool and relaxed vibe. Oversized women biker jackets tend to have a roomier fit, which allows for greater movement and comfort. This style is perfect for layering over thicker garments like sweaters, making it an ideal choice for cooler weather.

An oversized biker jacket can be paired with anything from leggings to a flowing maxi dress, allowing you to experiment with proportions and create a striking look.

4. The Suede Biker Jacket

If leather isn’t your material of choice, suede offers a softer, more textured alternative. Suede biker jackets give off a more relaxed and bohemian vibe while still maintaining the signature biker jacket details. Available in earthy tones like camel, tan, and olive green, suede jackets are perfect for autumn or spring.

Suede women biker jackets are incredibly versatile and can be styled in countless ways. Whether paired with denim for a casual day out or layered over a printed dress for a night out, the suede jacket is a must-have for any wardrobe.

5. The Embellished Biker Jacket

For those who like to make a statement, an embellished biker jacket is the way to go. These jackets often feature added details like studs, embroidery, patches, or fringe that take the traditional biker jacket to the next level. Embellished women biker jackets are perfect for those who want to infuse their wardrobe with personality and flair.

Whether you choose a jacket adorned with intricate designs or bold hardware, an embellished biker jacket is guaranteed to turn heads.

Why Every Woman Needs a Biker Jacket

A women biker jacket is more than just an outerwear piece—it’s a symbol of strength, confidence, and individuality. Here’s why every woman should consider adding one (or several) biker jackets to her collection:

1. Versatility

Women biker jackets are incredibly versatile and can be worn year-round. During cooler months, they can be layered over sweaters, turtlenecks, or long-sleeve tees. In the warmer months, they can be styled over lightweight dresses, tanks, or crop tops. The ability to dress a biker jacket up or down makes it a go-to piece for any occasion.

2. Timelessness

Biker jackets have proven to be timeless. While trends come and go, the appeal of a well-constructed biker jacket remains consistent. Investing in a high-quality women biker jacket means you’ll have a piece that lasts for years, never losing its cool factor.

3. Empowerment

Wearing a women biker jacket instantly boosts confidence. The structured design and bold features make a powerful statement about who you are. Whether you're headed to a casual event or a night out, a biker jacket will make you feel unstoppable.

4. Comfort and Durability

While style is important, comfort and durability are key. High-quality biker jackets, particularly those made from genuine leather or durable faux leather, mold to your body over time, creating a comfortable fit. Their sturdy construction means they can withstand daily wear while protecting you from the elements.

Styling Your Women Biker Jacket

The beauty of women biker jackets lies in their versatility. Here are some creative ways to style your jacket for different occasions:

1. Casual Day Out

For a laid-back daytime look, pair your biker jacket with a graphic tee, distressed jeans, and ankle boots. This outfit exudes effortless cool and is perfect for running errands or meeting friends for coffee.

2. Night Out

For a more polished look, drape your women biker jacket over a fitted dress and add a pair of heels or heeled boots. The contrast between the structured jacket and the sleek dress creates a chic, balanced ensemble that’s perfect for a night on the town.

3. Festival Vibes

For a boho-inspired look, style a suede or embellished biker jacket with a flowing maxi dress, cowboy boots, and layered jewelry. This combination brings a cool, laid-back vibe that’s ideal for music festivals or outdoor events.

4. Office Chic

Yes, you can even wear your women biker jacket to the office! Pair a sleek black leather jacket with tailored trousers and a blouse for a professional yet edgy look that’s sure to impress.

Conclusion

From classic leather to modern-day interpretations, women biker jackets continue to be an iconic piece of fashion that transcends time. They offer a unique blend of speed and style, making them a must-have for any wardrobe. With so many variations to choose from—whether it’s a cropped jacket for a feminine touch, an oversized jacket for laid-back cool, or an embellished jacket for statement-making style—there’s a perfect women biker jacket out there for everyone.

So, embrace your inner rebel, rev up your style, and make a statement with an iconic women biker jacket that’s sure to turn heads.

[sunsetleather8]

How To Select Best Leather Baseball Caps For Men

Leather baseball caps for men and motorcycle apparel have come a long way from their early beginnings. Today, innovative materials like leather combined with creative designs make for headwear and biker gear that is both fashionable and functional. Whether you're a ballplayer or biker or love sporty styles, leather caps and motorcycle clothing may be just what you need to take your look to the next level.

Best In Sports Leather Baseball Caps

Leather baseball caps are the perfect way to add subtle sophistication to casual outfits. Typically made from genuine leather or suede, these caps retain the classic baseball hat silhouette with a trendy twist. The leather construction gives them a sleek, upscale look compared to traditional twill or cotton caps.

For men, leather baseball hats provide an eye-catching style with a masculine vibe. They look great with everyday attire like jeans, hoodies, jackets, and more. Opt for a solid black or brown leather cap for versatility. Or choose unique details like perforations or contrasting stripes for an added flair.

Compared to regular ball caps, leather offers enhanced durability and weather resistance. This means your leather baseball hat can withstand daily wear for seasons to come. Leather caps also tend to fit more closely to the head for a streamlined, polished appearance. The material naturally conforms to your head shape over time, too.

Why People Like Ladies Leather Jacket and Vests

Leather jackets and vests have been wardrobe staples for generations, offering versatility, style, and durability that can last for years. From bomber jackets to motorcycle gear, leather outerwear comes in many styles suitable for both men and women. This guide will explore popular leather jacket and vest options, key characteristics to look for when shopping, and style tips for integrating these timeless garments into your own personal look.

Suits Best with Motorcycle Ladies Leather Jacket

When many think of women's leather jackets, the iconic motorcycle jacket often comes to mind first - complete with zippers, belted waists, and a collar that can be popped against the elements. However, today's leather jackets for ladies offer much wider versatility in styles ranging from bomber jacket men's leather to trench coat silhouettes.

For a ladylike touch, fitted leather jackets create an hourglass silhouette, often featuring princess seams, a peplum hem, or delicate hardware details. Cropped leather jackets ending at the waist also lend a feminine vibe and pair nicely with dresses or high-waisted pants. For increased comfort and flexibility, relaxed, unstructured leather jackets drape softly without constricting movement.

Black leather jackets remain a popular choice in terms of color but don't overlook wine reds, forest greens, navy blues, or neutrals like ivory or blush. Unique details like embroidery, woven or quilted leather, belted wraps, and faux fur collars also elevate the traditional leather jacket style.

Classic Leather Wallets

A quality leather wallet makes a sophisticated essential accessory to carry in your back pocket. As with sunglasses and jackets, you'll want to select leather wallets with features that make your daily carry easier. Here's what to look for:

Full grain Italian leather – This high-standard leather will last decades and develop a unique patina over time.

RFID-blocking—New credit cards contain tiny tracking chips, and RFID-blocking wallets contain a special liner to protect data.

Quick access card slot – Many quality wallets have a dedicated slot on the outside to flash your ID or metro pass without opening the wallet fully.

Compact minimalist design – For front pocket carry, choose a wallet no wider than 3 inches when full.

Both leather wallets for men and women can choose from lots of stylish unisex leather wallet options. But here are two gender-specific options we especially like:

For Him Bellroy Slim Leather Wallet. This super slim wallet holds up to 12 cards in a curved leather container with a handy pull tab. RFID protection comes standard.

For Her Kate Spade New York Cameron Wallet. This pretty little wallet has a crosshatched leather exterior with bold gold logo detailing. The lined interior keeps your cards and cash neatly organized.

We hope this guide has helped you narrow down your perfect brown leather jacket while also providing sunglasses and wallet recommendations to complete your biker chic style! Let us know in the comments if you have any other questions.

[americanjacketstore2]

Nothing Beats a Women's Motorcycle Jacket in Style

What Is A Biker Jacket With time, there has been a lot of evolution and fashion, which brings fresh changes. The biker jacket is one of them. Even though biker jackets have been in fashion since the 1960s and 70s, they are still in fashion. Nowadays, a change brought by fashion designers is the introduction of the women’s motorcycle jacket. Yes, a women’s biker jacket is a red-hot topic of fashion gossip. You can see the discussion everywhere. Indeed, this staple adds a unique charm to a woman’s closet.  These leather and shearling jackets are the best staple choice for icy weather. Below, I will share some vital points about having a biker jacket. 

 Benefits Of Owning A Biker Jacket

 Durable Outerwear Indeed, a Women’s Motorcycle Jacket is one of the most durable outerwear. Its durability depends upon the type of leather. The jacket is available in phony and genuine leather. Therefore, choose a trustworthy store to buy a leather staple.  Stylish And Classy  Thus, the tunic is considered stylish outerwear due to its edgy cut and elegant tailoring. It can enhance your personality and make you stand out loud in a crowd.

All-Year Choice Thus, the jacket will provide ultimate warmth and comfort due to its inner linings and leather combination. Also, it’s an all-year outerwear, so that you can wear it in summer. It’s a breathable choice for all seasons.  Styling Ideas After discussing the points for having a biker jacket, it’s time to discuss some of its styling ideas. Indeed, proper styling makes everything beautiful. Therefore, let’s begin. Thus, pair the Women’s Motorcycle Jacket with a black t-shirt and matching pants for a perfect biker vibe. Pair it with leather combat boots, and you are ready to slay the world. Moreover, pair the jacket with a floral tank top and denim shorts to add a feminine touch to your personality. Add high heels with it, and you are fall-season ready. Furthermore, pair the jacket with your floral dress and loafers to make your look more dramatic. This look will take you back to vintage times. The look goes well for your retro-themed parties and picnics. Wrapping Thoughts In conclusion, a motorcycle jacket is a versatile staple. You can wear it in numerous ways, which will help elevate your look. Therefore, visit the American Jacket Store’s website today for a perfect Women’s Motorcycle Jacket. Thus, bring a change to your routine styling with this kinky leather jacket. Hurry up and order it now.

[trendingseason]

The Ultimate Guide to Women's Leather Blazers: Trends, Styles, and Care Tips

Leather blazers have always been a timeless fashion statement, and they continue to be a staple piece in any woman's wardrobe. With their sleek and edgy look, they add an instant touch of sophistication to any outfit. In this post, we will take a closer look at women's leather blazers, including the latest trends, different styles, and care tips to keep your blazer looking new for years to come.

Trends in Women's Leather Blazers

The fashion industry is always evolving, and so are the trends in leather blazers. Here are some of the latest trends to look out for:

Bold Colors: In recent years, leather blazers have expanded beyond the traditional black or brown colors. Bright colors like red, yellow, and green have become popular, adding a pop of color to any outfit.

Oversized Fit: Oversized blazers are in trend, and leather blazers are no exception. This style is perfect for a casual look, as it adds a comfortable yet chic feel to your outfit.

Cropped Length: Cropped leather blazers are a great way to show off your high-waisted pants or skirts. This style is perfect for a night out or a dressy event.

Textured Leather: From snake prints to crocodile textures, textured leather blazers are a popular trend for those who want to add some extra flair to their outfit.

Styles of Women's Leather Blazers

Leather blazers come in a variety of styles, each with its own unique look and feel. Here are some of the most popular styles:

Classic Leather Blazer: This is the traditional style of a leather blazer. It is usually waist-length and has a structured look that can be dressed up or down.

Moto Leather Blazer: Inspired by motorcycle jackets, moto leather blazers have a more edgy and rebellious look. They often have zippers, studs, and other embellishments that add to their unique style.

Belted Leather Blazer: This style features a belt that cinches at the waist, creating a more feminine silhouette. It is perfect for those who want to add some shape to their outfit.

Collarless Leather Blazer: This style is sleek and minimalistic, without the traditional collar. It is perfect for those who want a more understated look.

Care Tips for Women's Leather Blazers

Leather blazers are an investment piece, and proper care is essential to keep them looking new for years to come. Here are some care tips to help you maintain your leather blazer:

Avoid getting your leather blazer wet, as water can damage the material.

Use a leather conditioner regularly to keep the leather soft and prevent cracking.

Store your leather blazer in a cool, dry place, away from direct sunlight.

Avoid using harsh chemicals or cleaners on your leather blazer, as they can damage the material.

Conclusion

In conclusion, women's leather blazers are timeless fashion pieces that can be styled in a variety of ways. From classic to edgy, there is a style for everyone. By following these care tips, you can ensure that your leather blazer looks great for years to come. For more fashion and style tips, check out our website at Web Tech Tips.

[maher-leather001]

What is the best way to dress a cropped leather jacket?

The leather jacket that is short is one of the most popular fashions. People also recognize it as a cropped leather jacket. The brown leather jacket outfit is definitely an item you should have.��Short jackets are one the most loved outfits of the first leather outfits. It looks great with your physique, and exposes your waist in the same way. There is no doubt the best way to wear it with other dresses. Women can usually wear fashionable short jackets. It is made from goat hide and cowhide. It is available at maherleathers a variety of designs and colors. It is easy to style with your regular outfits.

8 ways to style a cropped leather jacket

The short jacket is a popular choice to wear with virtually every everyday casual wear. The most common ways to put on the jacket that as a companion below.

Black Classic Jacket With High Waisted Jeans and Crop Top

If you're on the go and want to grab a cup of coffee or your coffee while on the move. This jacket will allow you to feel relaxed and comfortable. You can pick lightweight color clothing, jeans and a crop tops underneath it. Moto jacket. If you are looking to achieve an attractive style. It is possible to wear a casual white dress shirt with blue jeans and an black crop top underneath an Classic Moto outfit. The dress coat will highlight your style-conscious character.

Asymmetric Green Jersey with White Tee and Jeans

Green is an original color. If you do not have a green color it is recommended to purchase the color green from Grimpp. It's the most appealing color. If you are planning to have a fun outing with family or friends. It is best to wear white T-shirts, slim blue jeans and shoes with the green coat. This gives you a stylish style. The outerwear will give you an distinctive appearance.

White Moto Jacket and Black Maxi

It is the Black and white combo is the most effective combination. It is possible to wear white with black and create a stunning appearance. This combination is most effective. The trend of wearing transparent clothing has become well-known and is commonly seen in the streets. It is worn by fashion-conscious women. If you are planning to take a trip. It is best to wear an oversized black shirt with that White Moto jacket. This dress can give you an appealing look.

Brown Bomber Jacket, with stripes

You've probably realized that French and American Hollywood models and their style are major models for us. Every woman is trying to tell make it easy to dress like the models they admire. If you are looking for a stylish appearance. Wear an asymmetrical shirt and black pants underneath the Bomber jacket in brown. This style is ideal to dress for street style. It offers a stylish look. It is mostly worn for casual wear.

Red Biker Jacket with Grey Turtleneck

Red Color is an attractive color. Red is the best color for casual. If you are going to a party or wedding, it is best to wear an red biker jacket. It gives you a stunning style. This style is perfect for casual wear. The majority of people love the red colors. Because Red color is distinctive from other colors. It is possible to wear the grey turtleneck with a pair of pants underneath that red motorcycle jacket. This gives a nice appearance.

Tan Biker Jacket with Color Block Pants

The color of Tan is an extremely appealing color. People love hues extremely. Because this color is distinct. It is a great match for every casual dress. It can also be worn to dress for work. If you're looking for a chic style. Wear colorful block pants as well as stylish shirts with a brown jacket. Many women have wore this look for office wear. It is a distinctive appearance.

Gray Leather Jacket with White Tee and Jeans

A leather jacket with a grey colour can be a great alternative to a black one. Certain people prefer brown leather, black or grey looks great when paired with neutral and bright colors. If you're tired of black, or you want to add some spice to your wardrobe, try diverse colors. Do not hesitate to purchase any of these gray jackets. If you're looking to improve your look. Wear an White T-shirt and jeans with an edgy leather jacket. It will give you a stylish appearance.

The leather Jacket featuring Midi Button-Down Skirt

It's a very trendy look that is frequently seen in the street of Paris prior to the runway shows. The short jacket is worn with blue buttons as well as an mini skirt. When it comes to shoes to match the skirt, you could wear sandals in a brown the color of khaki. If you're thinking that you shouldn't buy short leather clothes. These ideas for outerwear will alter your opinion. It is possible to wear an midi skirt with a leather jacket. The jacket gives you a beautiful appearance.

[thetaoofzoe]

Fic: Midnight in the Desert 1/1

Title: Midnight in the Desert

Summary: Coffee + tiny bladder + long motorcycle ride = the best sex of your life

Rating: Smut, fluff, fun sexy times. My usual fare, you know what’s up. 

Pairing: Captain ‘Sy’ Syverson x YOU (AU)

Companion piece to The Road to Paloma  

‘I have to pee!’ 

You leaned against Syverson’s broad back and shouted at him above the roar of the bike’s engine. 

He turned his cheek against the wind. 

‘What?!’ he shouted back. ‘Again?? We just stopped an hour ago.’ 

‘I got a tiny bladder!’ you laughed as he decreased the bike speed. 

It was easier to talk now that the warm night air had stopped whipping away your words. You nuzzled fondly against his shoulder and eased your hands down over his belt buckle. 

‘There ain’t a place for miles,’ he said and lay his hand over your hands. ‘Can you hold it?’

You thought a moment and although that second cup of truckstop hazelnut coffee was a surprising delight to the senses, it was a mistake currently wreaking havoc on your bladder. 

‘I cannot. Nope, not in the least,’ you replied and left it up to your problem solving husband to figure it out.  

Up ahead on that long black stretch of barren backcountry Arizona road stood a high-mast sodium light which cast a broad oval of yellowy illumination across the road.  Syverson slowed the bike even more and drew close to the tall wood pole. You peered up at the ring of industrial bulbs and then down at the shadowy dirt area just at the rim of bright light. 

When he shut off the engine the world plunged into a kind of silence that only an evening on an empty road in the middle of a desert could create. Nothing but crickets, and the occasional nocturnal animal cry. You liked it. 

Syverson kicked the bike onto the stand and let the machine ease to one side. He got off it and turned to face you as he thumbed through his mobile. 

‘No signal,’ he grumped and then pointed to the saddle bag near your thigh. ‘Get out the map. Let’s take a look.’ 

You did as you were told. He always kept a big book of state maps in the bag for when the online maps failed. You paged through it, landed on the appropriate state and after a quick skimming search, you put a finger on a thin jagged red line. 

‘Highway 373,’ he said, looking down the length of your finger and rubbing his hand over his beard. ‘Yeah, see? Town’s at least another 60 miles.’

With your finger still on the map, you looked up at him and pouted. Syverson smiled fondly and used the tip of his index finger to push up your helmet visor so that he could see your eyes. He stroked the edge of his thumb back and forth against your cheek. 

‘Sure you can’t hold it?’ he asked in a tone that said come on baby you can do it.

But you shook your head and unstrapped your helmet. He removed his own in response. Might as well get comfortable.  

Handing yours to him, you rummaged about in your rucksack and made a noise of triumph when your fingers closed about a small plastic baggie. You pulled it out and held it up. 

One of the most valuable tips that you learned from women who were constantly on the road was that a ‘fuddy’ or a female urination device was a godsend and a life saver.  

Yours was pink. 

‘Looks like your girl is gonna have to make do,’ you said and groaned as your bladder protested the exertion when he helped you climb off of the bike. 

‘Awright,’ he said.  ‘Don’t accidentally piss on anything that I’m gonna have to fight, okay?’

‘Always my knight in shining armour, Sy,’ you called over your shoulder walking to the edge where the darkness met the light. 

He laughed and sat with his rear against the seat, stretching his long legs out in front of him.

‘Just do it where I can see you,’ he said. 

You stepped across that hard bright line and into the pale darkness.  

It seemed cooler there for some reason and you strained to look into the distance. The moon had gone in behind grey streaky clouds and backlit the jagged mountain range in the distance. You glanced back at the man leaning against the bike. He was still aware and watching and that comforted you. 

Always your protector.

Unzipping your loose heavy canvas trousers, you pressed the rubbery funnel into place and relieved yourself into the dirt. 

As the pressure subsided, your mood lifted and the thought of maybe another coffee didn’t sound so bad. Drying yourself and the funnel with a little bogroll, you tucked everything back into the baggie, righted your clothes and returned to the bike. 

Syverson’s keen gaze skimmed over you. 

‘Better?’ he teased.

You stored your bag into the rucksack  and stood back to look fully at him. 

‘You’re turning into a grizzly, you know that?’ you asked fondly, reaching up to run your fingers over his beard and then up over his jaw and to the back of his neck. 

‘I thought you liked me like this,’ he replied in his easy joking manner. 

He caught his thick facial hair between his thumb and forefinger and gave himself  a thoughtful stroke. You smiled and reached up to gently caress the back of his well shaped head with both hands. His eyes softened immediately and a knowing look crept into his warm gaze. 

‘What are you tryin’ to do?’ he asked. 

There was that soft, gentle laughter in his voice that you loved so much. It was the sound that had come to mean that he was settling in to play your game.  

You caught the corner of your lower lip between your teeth and looking away you lifted one shoulder in a shrug. 

‘What?’ you asked innocently, ‘I’m not doing anything.’ 

Syverson hooked his thumbs into the side belt loops of your trousers. He drew you closer but when you resisted he shot you a quizzical expression.

No play? asked that expression. 

He looked nearly betrayed that you would deny him access to the trouble he so dearly wanted to get into. He wanted to get into you.  

You moved a few steps away and when you held his full and undivided attention, you unzipped your trousers. With an insolent pause to gauge his reaction, which was immediate and intense, you shimmied, let them drop and then stepped out of them.  You wore his long tee shirt, and when the trousers dropped, the hem of it fell against your bare upper thighs, covering you. 

Syverson made a low, greedy noise in his throat. He grabbed you by the waist and in a smooth motion, he straddled the bike’s seat, and swung you effortlessly into the air before planting you firmly astride his lap with a solid thump.

You felt him move against you as he shifted in the seat and the tough material stretched taut across his muscular thighs scraped along the tender flesh of your inner thighs. A pleasurable shiver rushed through you and you put your hands flat on his heaving chest. Sy wet his lips and looked up at you. There was want and heat and desire in his blue eyes and your lips curved into a delighted smirk. 

This man, this beast of a man was yours and yours alone to do with whatever you pleased. 

‘I’ve never met a woman who was so exciting,’ he groaned, voice quiet, as if he didn’t want to break the spell you’d woven over him. 

You took the compliment in stride. Leaning in, you opened his mouth with your tongue and slid your hand down to his belt buckle. When you drew back, he looked down the length of torso and watched in breathless panting silence as you unbuckled his trousers and eased out his stiffening cock. You glanced at him, noting the colour rising high in his cheeks as he shuddered, put his head back and moaned. 

He slid up the lower edge of your tee shirt and massaged your bottom rhythmically, eagerly as you stroked him once, then again, curving your fingers around his thick girth and teasing his glistening head with your thumb. 

‘Yeah, baby. Good girl. Just like that,’ he groaned. ‘Oh, yeah, you know what I like.’ 

You warmed with the pleasure at being praised by him.

And gleefully, you twisted your slick fist and he arched, and tightened his grip on your hips. 

‘C’mon baby, c’mon… you’re teasing me.’ 

I love to tease you baby, I love how you respond to me. 

With his big hands supporting you,  you rose to your knees opening yourself to him and you whispered his name when he undulated and pushed up into your sweet quivering heat. 

As usual, you were unprepared for him, unprepared for the size of him. But you relaxed, closed your eyes, and clenched when his cock slowly stretched you to fit him. 

Between his competent, loving hands, Syverson held you still and lifted his face so that you could kiss him, softly, gently, as if the two of you were hidden away in your bedroom, and not fucking like unrestrained lusty beasts by the side of a silent desert highway. 

Sy thrust up hard into you, laying claim to you from the inside and an unnamed feral fire seared through you. You arched, sucked in a breath and your intentions of keeping quiet were obliterated. The throaty cry that erupted from you started but did not shame you. 

A roll of your hips elicited the same response from him and you hissed with pain when he dug his fingers into your vulnerable flesh. But he soothed you with warm honeyed kisses and the promise of ever increasing delights. You clenched your thighs about him and Sy encouraged you to ride him harder and faster until you couldn’t withstand the plunging shudder that rocked you. Safe in the strength of his embrace, you surrendered to him, clutched at him and shuddered through the white-hot scalding gush of lust and molten fire through your veins. 

Syverson held you against him until you finally stilled and draped yourself over him to cover his face with kisses. 

After cleaning up and dressing, you settled yourself behind him again, wrapped your arms about his waist and rested your cheek against his shoulder. You gasped when the engine roared to life as the sudden vibrations shook you intimately and the sensations made you smile. 

‘You ready?’ he asked, breaking you out of your muse. 

You squeezed him. 

‘Ready.’

A hotel room, a hot shower and another round were in order along with some downtime to rest. There was a secondary reason why you had to pee so much. Your husband was going to be a father.

-the end, you naughty little things. I love you ;D

Tag list:  @lightsidecalling​  @omgkatinka​ @igotkatiepowers​ @the-soot-sprite​  @harrysthiccthighss​ @little-green-love​ @foxyjwls007​  @angreav​ @maizyistrash @liquorlaughslove @supernaturallymarvellous​ @whiskey-cokenstuff @laketaj24​ @october505​ @inlovewithhisblueeyes​ @foodieforthoughts​ @wolvesandhoundshowltogether​ @singeramg​ @sapphirescrolls​  @emyearns​ @brandycranby​ @zealoushound​ @eldarwen333​ @beck07990​ @lunedelorient​ @henrythickcavill​ @kalesrebellion​​ @angrythingstarlight​​ @lavitabella87

[rhysismydaddy]

Casual Ruin Pt. 2 (Elriel)

Elain’s part of the Damnation Series

Part 1

_______________________________________________

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No,” I emphasize, shaking my head to further get the point across. “I’m not getting on that thing!”

Azriel tilts his head, still leaning against the motorcycle with casual arrogance and twinkling hazel eyes. “It’s perfectly safe. And we both know you love to ride.”

My face heats at that little joke, but I hold firm in my convictions. “Can’t we just walk?”

We’re going to a beach on his recommendation, but apparently, the one right behind us isn’t good enough. “No.”

“Okay, then why don’t we take the bus?”

He looks at me like I just suggested we crawl all the way their on our hands and knees. “No.”

He offers no other option, just looks at me and waits patiently. 

“Don’t you trust me, dolcezza mia?” he purrs, sliding his hands in the pocket of his dark jeans and smiling.

The walls of my refusal start to crumble, because I’m such a sucker for that smile. I’m starting to think he knows it, too.

“I’m in a dress,” I point out weakly. 

“With a swimsuit underneath.”

I try again. “My hair will get tangled.”

Azriel sighs like he’s over my shit, lips twitching. “You and I both know you’re dying to put a scarf over it like one of those cliché movies you love so much.”

Thelma and Louise is my favorite movie... 

And he does look criminally handsome leaning against the motorcycle, dressed in black like always, sunglasses low on his nose. 

An image pops into my mind of me, riding behind him with the sea a landscape behind us, scarf and red lipstick on, the sun high in the sky. 

I purse my lips, and because he can tell he’s winning me over, his eyes turn amused and victorious. 

What cements the deal is him saying, “I’d never let anything happen to you, Elain.”

His voice is so serious and deep, it sounds like he’s making a solemn vow to me. So I give in.

“Promise you’ll drive slow.”

Azriel dips his chin in agreement, and a huge smile breaks over my face as I run back inside.

Five minutes later, I step back out, still smiling like an idiot. Azriel now sits on the motorcycle, looking like something out of GQ, and he snorts as he looks at the additional  scarf, lipstick, and sunglasses. “Donne.” Women.

Ignoring that display of sexism, I walk over to him and take his offered hand, sliding onto the bike behind him. My hands link in front of him, and he chuckles at how tightly I hold on to him as the machine under us rumbles to life. 

Oh, God. 

Slowly, like promised, he pulls away from the curb and onto the almost-empty street. Most people are at breakfast in one of the busy cafes or sitting on their porches, but one woman smiles as we pass because we obviously look freaking adorable.

I start to relax as we go, because like everything else he does, Azriel drives with complete control and confidence. He acts like nothing could go wrong with him in control, and it puts my nerves at ease. Honestly, I don’t know why I was worried in the first place.

He said he’d never let anything happen to me, and despite knowing him less than a month, I believe him.

He navigates us through the city and to a slightly larger road that runs along the coastline, and I take a minute to appreciate the movie moment.

He shifts to drive with one hand as we go, the other residing on my knee next to his hip. His thumb brushes over my skin softly, and I press my face to his neck, overwhelmed by the moment. 

I never knew I wanted something like this, but considering I feel like I’ve been split open and stuffed with sunshine, I did.. He does that, I’ve noticed; somehow, he knows what I want before I do.

I’ve never asked him for anything, yet every time I’m with him, I feel like I’m receiving a present.

Just a summer fling, I remind myself, even as I press a kiss to the side of his neck.

We ride down the coastline for about twenty minutes, eventually coming to a stop and walking onto a completely abandoned beach. 

It’s secluded, shielded by dunes on either side, and quiet. The sand’s almost white, and the water’s so blue, it looks like the background that comes with a new computer. 

Paradise.

“How’d you find this place?”

Hands in his pockets, he jerks a chin towards a beautiful, sprawling property about a hundred yards from us. “Because I live right there.”

Despite sleeping with him for almost four weeks, I haven’t seen his house before now. I’ve seen him naked, yet for some reason, knowing where he sleeps at night feels more personal. 

Maybe it’s because I get the feeling he’s letting me into his life a little by taking me here.

And maybe it’s because I feel like he never does that.

A smile pulls on my lips as I look between him and the house. He’s obviously trying to play it cool, but there’s a stiffness in his posture that isn’t usually there. I realize why, and my smile grows. “You like me.”

He scowls, making me grin. “Of course I like you, Elain.”

He says it like it’s obvious, and I narrow my eyes, stepping closer. “Yes, but you like me, too.”

He looks toward the sky and thoroughly tries to ignore me as I put my hands on his chest and smile up at him. I kiss the underside of his jaw softly, then murmur, “Don’t worry. I like you too.” 

His lips turn up at that, and he presses a quick kiss to my lips, then takes my hand and tugs me towards the water. 

Pulling off my sundress, I look over his apparel and raise a brow. “You’re swimming in that?”

Amusement dances in his hazel eyes as he responds, “Of course not.”

He pulls his shirt off, revealing his tan, tattooed chest, broad shoulders, and toned stomach. I sigh, fucking sigh, because looking like that should be illegal, and he laughs. 

Then pulls his pants down.

If possible, my brows go up even higher at the sight of him in nothing but his black briefs. “Um, what are you doing?”

“Swimming,” he retorts simply, and before I understand what’s going on, he’s naked as the day he was born.

“Azriel!”

He turns and walks toward the sea, leaving me slack-jawed and with an uninterrupted view of his backside. And what a nice backside it is. 

By the time he’s wading in the water, I’m still standing on the beach, eyes wide, watching him. 

His black hair’s wet, hanging around his face like spilled ink, and the water’s so bright and blue against his tan skin and the dark lines of his tattoos. 

He looks like a goddamn model, and I’m momentarily paralyzed at the sight of it.

“Venire qui.” Come here.

I walk far enough that the water brushes my toes with every wave, cool and calming and serene. 

“You’re naked,” I point out like he might not be aware, still shocked.

“It’s a private beach, tesoro.” 

I take a look around, even though I know it’s empty, and he laughs and walks backward, going deeper into the water. He’s relaxed as he wades in, like he does this every day. 

For all I know, he does.

I’ve never been naked in public, but I’m assuming to be as comfortable with it as he is, it happens a lot.

Az shakes his head, water flying from his hair like rain, and my mouth drops open as things start to move in slow-mo. His tattooed shoulders are above the water, and he just watches me in that dedicated, heated way he always does.

I bite my lip, trying to keep myself from groaning. He notices, and even from the distance between us, I see his eyes darken. “Are you going to join me?”

His voice makes it sound like he’s asking if I’m going to join him in going nude, not just join him in the water. 

“I think you have ulterior motives,” I say back.

He smiles that damn smile, running a hand over his jaw. “Always.”

I make the decision in less than a second and throw the bikini off in almost as little time, then sprint into the water to lessen the chance of anyone seeing me.

He laughs, a full-bodied laugh with his head thrown back, and mutters, “Ridicola.”

“You’re the ridiculous one,” I accuse as I swim over to him, scowling. “Getting naked at 11:30 in the morning.”

The water’s deep enough that I can’t stand, but given he’s half a foot taller than me, he can, so I brace my arms on his shoulders to stay afloat.

“There are no time constraints to when a person can be naked.” His hands span my rib cage, pulling me in close. “And with you, I happen to think you should stay this way all the time.”

My lips twitch. “My teachers might not appreciate that.”

He hums his agreement but seems distracted by the sight of me wrapping my legs around his waist and leaning back to float in the water.

“Bellissima,” he murmurs, almost like he doesn’t realize he’s even saying it. “Troppo bella per le parole.”

Too beautiful for words. 

He spins us around in the water, causing me to laugh and relish the feel of the water swirling around me. 

Between the sun warming my face, the cool water relaxing me, and the man making me smile, I’m happier than I’ve ever been.

My life feels like a fairytale, and I don’t delude myself about why. 

Pulling myself up, I slide my hands in his hair and kiss him softly. “You make me happy, Azriel.”

He tilts his head, surprise flaring in his beautiful eyes. He looks like he’s uncomfortable with the compliment, despite always giving them to me. The man calls me treasure, yet doesn’t understand that he makes me happy?

Shaking my head in frustration, I kiss him. He deepens it instantly, meeting my tongue with his, and I’m lost. His hair is wet between my fingers, soft and silky and the perfect tool to pull his head back so I can devour him properly.

I suck on his lower lip, and he makes a low sound, almost like a warning.

“I knew you had ulterior motives,” I breathe as he kisses a path down the column of my throat.

His hands cup my breasts, bringing them up and burying his face between them, making a low sound of satisfaction. “It isn’t why I brought you here, but... I can’t think with you around.” He nips my breast, making me yelp. “It’s very irritating.”

I scoff, about to say that sounds like his problem, not mine, but then his mouth closes around my breast, and the retort dies in my throat. 

I can’t believe I’m doing this. I really can’t. 

But when in Rome. Or Sicily. Close enough.

“Lean back again,” he urges, hands running down my back. 

I comply, tightening my thighs around his hips and floating back. 

His voice goes low, and he whispers, “Close your eyes, caro.” 

They slide shut, almost against my own will, and then he’s pushing inside me with one thrust, making my back arch up almost completely out of the water. My eyes open to find his watching me, looking down at the place where we’re joined.

“Eyes closed,” he gruffs, staying perfectly still until I do just that.

He starts to move, doing all the work as he lifts me and brings me back down, going in time with the waves around us.

His hands grip my hips with demanding pressure, but his pace stays plateaued.

One on my back urges me above the waterline, and I blush at being laid out in front of him so exposed, but remembering the heat in his eyes, any embarrassment dies down. 

The waves threaten to move us, but Azriel’s a rock in the storm, never losing his footing, never faltering. 

I hear his quiet, steady breath, the crash of the waves around me, and I feel like everything’s heightened. My body’s buzzing, and I glide my arms through the water, the feeling of the cool water on my over-sensitized skin making me tremble.

“Fuck, Elain,” he says under his breath, hips thrusting a little harder. His name falls off my lips on a moan, and the sound of him groaning in answer does it for me. 

I tighten around him as I come, and he follows immediately, pulling me by my hips until he’s seated deep inside me. We’re still, letting the waves bring us even closer.

He pulls out of me but continues to hold me in his arms, pulling my chest to his and burying his face in my neck. “I can’t get enough of you. I should let you go, but I can’t.”

I open my eyes in confusion, wondering why the hell he’d think that, but pause when I see the look in his eyes. 

It’s a reflection of my own, showing all the things I want to say but am too scared to. “Az...”

“Sei mio,” he says roughly, without a trace of doubt or hesitation. 

The words ring in my head over and over as he carries me back to the beach, then leads me up the dunes and into his house. 

You’re mine.

~ 

The day after our beach trip--which, honestly, was only about thirty minutes of beaching--I come to the conclusion Azriel’s holding back on me.

He’s shown me his home, fucked me on every square inch, and has given me everything I want whether or not I ask for it, but... he’s holding out on me. 

I’ve been around enough people who are hiding something to know that despite seemingly being open and honest, there’s something he’s holding back. 

Even when he’s rough with me, it’s like he has a leash on himself so tight he won’t really let go. 

It’s like he’s afraid I’ll run in the other direction if he does. Like he’s afraid of scaring me off. 

Which is ridiculous, so I’ve also come to the conclusion it ends today. 

I need him to be as happy and free as he makes me, and I think this is the way to do it.

So I’m going to surprise him.

I’m on my way to his house, being driven by a cabbie who asked twice if I was sure this was where I wanted to go, with one plan in my head: make him lose control.

He’s always so composed, so relaxed, and I’m tired of it. I want him to know that no matter what happens, I’m not running. Not from him.

It’s time I find out who he really is. 

~Azriel~

I have three rules in life. 

Three rules that have kept me alive and in this game when the odds were stacked against me.

1: Never leave the house without my .45. 

2: Never give into temptation. 

3: Trust no one.

Rule 1 is easy to follow. I have more enemies than friends, and I’m not stupid enough to allow someone an opportunity to off me while I’m defenseless. 

Rule 2 is usually just as easy to follow, because I’ve lived long enough to have learned how to block myself from ever really wanting anything. 

I have to say usually, though, because lately, it’s a complete fucking bitch to follow. 

Ever since Elain stumbled into my life like a walking, talking version of every dream I’ve ever had, I’ve been fucking helpless against her. 

And I refuse to feel helpless. 

But I also refuse to let her go. 

Which is so unbelievably selfish and fucked up, I can’t hardly stand myself. 

Every time I’m with her, I swear it’s the last time. But then she has to go and be unforgettable, beautiful, kind, and the best lay I’ve ever had, and I’m back to being helpless. 

Oh, and now I’ve gone and fucked rule 3, too. 

Because never, in my entire life, have I shown a civilian where I live. I’ve taken a few women to one of the few apartments I keep, but never my actual home.

I don’t really know why I did it, considering I knew--while doing it--it was stupid. It was like I wanted, needed, her to see at least a part of me that’s real.

Rolling my neck, I try to push all thoughts of her and her infuriatingly addictive smile out of my head and focus.

Luca glances over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow like he can sense I’m not paying attention, and I nod for him to keep going.

He squeezes the pliers, and screams fill the air as another finger falls to the floor. 

Blood splatters on the toes of my boots, and I narrow my eyes at it. I just fucking washed these.

Luca pauses his work when the guy strapped to the table passes out, walking over to me and lighting a cigarette. “Maybe he’s not going to talk, boss.”

I almost laugh. “They always talk.”

In fact, it’s a little annoying how predictable this shit is getting. Sure, some men, like the one in front of me, are a little stronger and hold out longer, but they all eventually crack. 

It just depends on applying the right pressure. 

Something Luca knows, meaning there’s a reason he’s getting antsy.

I narrow my eyes at him. “You got something better to do?”

He blows the smoke out, doing a piss-poor job of fighting a smile. “Matter of fact, I do.”

I take a cigarette from the pack he holds out and light it. “What’s her name?”

He rubs the back of his neck, looking uncomfortable, and I know it’s going to be someone I know.

“Gianna,” he finally tells me, and I take a deep inhale of smoke to keep from laughing. 

Yeah. I definitely know her.

He shoves my shoulder when I let a chuckle out, and I at least make the effort to stop being a dick. 

But I can’t help but tease him a bit. “She still into-”

“Yes. Now shut up.”

Another laugh escapes me, but I drop it, considering I’m not exactly doing a great job of controlling my own sex life at the moment. 

The only reason Luca gets away with talking to me like he does is because he’s my Underboss and happens to be one of the only non-useless people around me.

I take in the man on the table with narrowed eyes, trying to figure out how to get him to just fucking confess. I know he’s guilty, and he knows he’s guilty, but we both also know he’ll die as soon as he damning words leave his mouth. 

He’s only got four fingers left, has multiple broken bones, and is missing an eye from where Luca lost his cool earlier. 

Clearly, cutting him isn’t doing shit, either, if the gaping wounds on his torso are any indication. 

Stubborn bastard.

“Electrocution,” I decide, pushing off the wall and going to grab the jumper cables. The traitor groans, but doesn’t say the magic words.

Luca frowns. “It always smells like burnt hair when we do that.”

Ignoring the prima donna in the room, I hook one cable to the car battery we keep down here and the other two his chest. 

“Have you, or have you not, been selling secrets to the Irish?” I ask, my voice betraying the boredom I’m fighting. 

He shakes his head, and I have to hold back a sigh. 

The sooner this stupid bastard confesses, the sooner I can go to Elain’s. 

Walking back over to my place by the stairs, I pull out my phone and scroll through the contacts until I find her name.

I want to see her so bad I’m almost chafing with the effort not to press down, and it only gets worse as the memory of yesterday comes to mind. Of her floating in the sea, breasts bouncing with every thrust, full lip between her teeth. 

Fuck.

I run a hand over my face, trying to shove the image out, but it refuges to budge.

Damn woman. 

“Falco?”

I snap out of it, looking up to find Luca watching me with a strange expression on his face. Considering he almost never calls me that, I take it that he’s been trying to get my attention for a few moments. 

“What?”

“70 or 130?”

I narrow my eyes at the stupid question, and he rolls his eyes before setting the charge to 130 and connecting the dipoles.

The man screams as electricity flows through his body, his wounds bleeding worse as his heart goes into overdrive. 

Luca unclips the cables when he passes out, smoking his cigarette and frowning when he doesn’t come to. 

A shot of adrenaline to the arm wakes him right up, though, and when he sees us standing over him watching patiently, he curses. 

“Ready to confess?” Luca asks, equally ready to get out of here.

The idiot just glares at him. “Accendilo, cagna.”

Light it up, bitch.

If I weren’t so irritated at how long this is taking, I’d laugh. 

Although, I have to admit it’s kind of satisfying that he isn’t breaking. He’s one of our own, trained and raised by us, so it’d be insulting if he broke down and confessed after one day. 

The longest run we’ve ever had is four days, but the man in front of us might just give the record a run for it’s money. 

But then Luca turns the battery on maximum volume, shocks the ever-living shit out of him, and punches him to keep him awake the whole time. He’s probably a little pissed about the “bitch” comment. 

And that’s the game.

“Basta, basta! Per favore!” 

Luca gives me a victorious grin as he unclips the wires, making me shake my head. Violent bastard. “Parla, cagna,” he demands. Talk, bitch.

Definitely a little pissed about the bitch comment. 

The man shakes from the shocks, managing to say, “I told them about the shipment coming in tomorrow night.”

“Told who?” Luca prods, running a knife under the man’s quivering lip. 

There’s a pause, then he spits, “O’Connor.”

Aka a pain in our asses, but more so for the Chicago operation than here. I’ll give the Capo there, a long-time friend of mine, a call. Luckily, that means it shouldn’t be a problem for me any longer. 

Plus, we still have time to reroute the shipment.

Plus, now I can kill this idiot.

The traitor’s eyes go to me, and he nods, accepting his fate. Not that he has a fucking option. 

The sound of my gun’s the last thing he hears, the bang echoing off the walls loudly. 

Not loud enough that I don’t hear a gasp from behind me.

I turn around instantly, gun drawn and pointed toward the intruder, finger ready on the trigger. 

And look down the barrel right at Elain.

_____________________________________

Part 3

@elorcan-trash @januarystears @emikadreams @swankii-art-teacher @biggestwingspan-az @bookstantrash @mari-highladyof-feels @teddytdr @perseusannabeth @cursebreaker29 @a-bit-of-a-cactus @elriel4life @girl-who-reads-the-books @shinya-hiiragi @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @ireallyshouldsleeprn @highqueenofelfhame @rowaelinismyotp @nahthanks @ghostlyrose2 @lovemollywho @inardour @tillyrubes10 @claralady @tswaney17 @rowanisahunk @superspiritfestival @thegoddessofyou @awesomelena555 @booksofthemoon @greerlunna @jlinez @studyliketate @over300books @justgiu12 @maastrash @aesthetics-11 @bamchickawowow @b00kworm @sleeping-and-books @musicmaam @hizqueen4life @maybekindasortaace

[the-slasher-files]

OC: DOMINIK DIMITRI KULOKOVA

SON OF ANDREI KULOKOVA AND XAVERIA LAH-MO

This is 100% a collab with @horrorslashergirl

Nickname: Dom, Niki, White Wolf, Dragon

What he calls his s/o: Babe, beautiful, lapa (Russian for little paw meaning sweetie pie)

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Demisexual

Nationality: Russian, Norwegian, American

Languages: Russian, Norwegian, English, Romanian, Dutch 

Voice: He is pretty soft spoken and doesn’t talk much but when he does, it demands attention. Dom grew up around many different people so his accent is unique; At first you hear a faint Russian accent but after a while he sounds more American from his mother and uncle (Akshay Lah-Mo) then there are a few words that he almost sounds Romanian from growing up around Decebal, Nadia and Alexander.

Occupation: Animal rescuer, exotic pet trade breeder and self taught engineer

Location: Northern Russia (status: still living with parents)

Hair: Snow White faux hawk that goes all the way down to his neck 

Eyes: Icy blue, sometimes look white in the reflection of snow on a sunny day. Intense. Sharp. Powerful. When he is killing his pupils are blown wide and a darkness seeps into the blue from the rims almost making them look black.

Height: 6′3

Body: Quite lean but powerful, definitely not a show off with his body and hides it under baggy clothing

Tattoos: Soft tattoos for the soft boy. Both arms, his whole torso, back and neck are covered in tattoos of women, nature, animals, cherubs and soft quotes in Russian and English

Clothes: Cyberpunk modern streetwear clothing. He sticks to mainly blacks and greys. Often wears cargo pants with lots of straps and oversized pockets, hoodies and large over sized jackets to hide his frame, along with vests and harnesses. When killing he wears his hood up and a black half face mask.  

Weapons/fight style: Extremely skilled in hand to hand combat from his father and the people he grew up around. Skilled in guns but doesn’t like to use them. He makes his own weapons such as the blades on his forearms, also uses brass knuckle knives.  

Preferred Method of Kill: This is the interesting part about Dominik, he doesn’t kill until he absolutely needs to. He will torture and maim a person but gives them a chance to change their ways, if they don’t he will come back and he will use slow torture, using his blades to cut people open then apply various types of animal venoms on the wounds making someone die slowly and painfully.

Motive: Killing/hurting people that illegally trade exotic animals and poachers 

Smell: Fresh rain and blood orange with hints of violet leaves, black tea and motor oil

Relationship with parents: As a young boy Dominik was very close with both parents equally not being able to see a flaw at all within them and getting equal attention between him and his twin sister Anastasia. 

However, as he got older and started to become his own person he was hardly aggressive and loved to just be quiet and play on his own, even just going into the woods by himself only to get lectures about leaving the home alone, especially from Andrei but that was just out of love and protection for his son. Dominik was also always more of a softer boy which Andrei didn’t really know how to ever deal with which lead him to be harsher and colder with Dom even though he loves him so much, they just do not get each other.

Having the rocky relationship with his dad, Andrei, Dominik found comfort in his uncle Akshay Lah-Mo and his mother, Xaviera. On many occasions Andrei was busy with Anastasia so he would often feel like Andrei’s little disappointment when in reality that isn’t true but, Dom would always go to Akshay for fatherly love and he was more patient and understanding, they would take long nature walks and just get everything off his chest, the white wolf feels very deeply and has a lot of thoughts he needs to get out. He would also do the same with Xaviera and she taught him everything about animals and how great they are so he took up a lot of her animal rescuing traits and how to deal with the most dangerous like a charm. 

Dominik prefers the quiet and peace that Akshay and Xaviera have along with their gentle nature towards him, Andrei’s brutish and blunt approach confuses him. He just doesn’t understand why Andrei is the way he is with most things, his temper, the desire for the kill and a lot of his values so Xaviera becomes the closer parent.  

Personality: When you first meet Dominik you might take him for a little awkward or a loner or even cold but once you get to know him he is a really cool dude. Just because he doesn’t talk much or like to be around the crowds doesn’t make him weird, he just wants to in his room listening to his music while taking care of his animals or working on his weapons. 

He is definitely the guy that only speaks when spoken to, often times he won’t strike up a conversation unless you are very close with him or if he is standing up for you. Dom is comfortable with the silence and just enjoying the company of the person beside him so don’t be put off by that, he’s not mad or upset he just is more interested in observing people than speaking with them. 

Once you break the quiet exterior and learn more about him, Dominik is a very nice person and he feels very deeply. He is more for profound deep conversations then mind numbing meaningless ones, that’s for sure. With feeling deeply comes thinking deeply, and Dom has a very active mind, not to the extent as his dad but it is pretty busy and he always has something on the go, from tinkering with his motorcycle to rescuing a new animal. One of the best ways to get to know Dom or help him clear his mind is going for a nature walk, the calmness and peace of the wilderness brings him out of his shell.

Having Andrei as a father this brings some of his qualities, Dominik is a bit of a dare devil that loves to race his motorcycle through the streets and he loves to play with some of the most dangerous reptiles on earth. Another quality he gets is his dad’s temper, but it takes Dom a long time to explode but when he does it is scary and you better run before getting your face punched in.   

[taking-over-his-life]

I wanted to be a biker, and my new job gave me a chance Ill never forget

I had just been successful at getting a promotion as a station manager to one of the central logistics hubs. The company had a range of logistics services including parcel delivery by van, specialist delivery by motorbike, and special link to the airport for customs clearance. I was really excited about it as it was only 5 miles from my house, and it was the first opportunity to manage 100 staff that was based at this site.

 My office was on the first floor and had a window that looked out over the main logistics centre, so I could see people coming and going on bikes and in vans.    

 In my first months I spent the time to get to know the management, supervisors and staff, or as many as I could. I spent a bit of time in the staff restaurant with the men and women that work there.

 I took special interest in the motorcycle courier section as I had a general interest in the bikes as well as those who rode them. They were out in all weathers and it showed on their leathers, and faces, well worn and when you got close you could also smell their gear. It took all my will power to keep my hands off them. I watched them in the smoking area in groups, laughing and horsing about with each other. 

 I was stuck up here doing the planning. Damn they seemed so happy so free. I watched as they came in from the rain, and put their drenched leathers over the radiators in the locker room. The smell wafted upstairs upsetting the women in the admin pool. I said I'd sort it, but damn I loved it. 

 I went down so they thought I was dealing. There were two guys in the locker room were in their undies, fuck I nearly came. ‘You ok guys’, I said. ‘Fucking soaking’ one replied, the other kept his head down. ‘Well get dry before you go out’. I said ‘Do we not supply waterproofs’ I said, ‘yes but forgot them’ he said. I walked out with a nose and lung full of that masculine smell. You would often find me down there during the day to get to know the guys.

 After a couple of months it was time for me to check out the night shift.

 There were a number of people I had not met, plus I wanted to see how the shifts worked. I checked in advance, and there was one controller who was at the far side of the complex, two drivers and 1 motorcycle courier who were working that night shift. 

 I arrived at about 1 am, and went straight to my office to do a little bit of work before I introduced myself to those on duty.

 I decided to go in nice and tidy, and wear a suit. After about 30-minutes I went downstairs, and decided to go straight to the control room. There was a guy in it called Dan. He got a bit of a shock that I was there, but I had a good chat with him and asked where the drivers were. 

 Both are out on jobs but they would be back in about 2 or 3 hours. I said I would let him know if I was still here when they got back. I would also let him know when I was leaving. 

 I asked about the courier and he said he would be in the crew room which was under the admin block right at the other side of the complex. There was nothing scheduled for him that night he was just on standby for emergencies.

 I walked over to the crew room. It was about 5-minutes walk from the control room. Dan had to stay in control room to man the phone and the radio so I knew it was only me and the biker on that side of the building

 It will be interesting to meet him. It was about 3 a.m. I had a boner which is normal for me at night, I just somehow had to keep it hidden so a little bit of adjustment and I felt more comfortable.

 It was going to be interesting to see how he reacted when the boss arrived. I was always professional so didn't see it as a major problem for myself 5 minutes conversation and I'll be back upstairs and could have a real good wank.

 I went into to crew room and there was no one there that I could see, so I went around the other side by the kitchen just to see whether he was there there was no one there.  I decided to go out into a corridor and go into the locker room, it's always something I enjoy, as the smell of guys leather boots old clothes damp clothes so erotic. 

 I pushed the door open and to my shock I saw the courier on the bench in between the lockers wearing his off-road boots, leather jeans and a black T-shirt. His Boots were on the back of two seats with his hand on his dick wanking furiously.

 What shocked me is how much he was so into it, he neither heard nor saw me. I stood there getting so excited rubbing my own groin. He opened his eyes and jumped when he saw me. ‘Don't move’ I said really loudly,’keep going you need to release’. 

 He put his hand back on his dick and smiled at me, ‘you want to help’ he said beckoning me over. I did and walked over to him I got down on my knees and moved my head towards his erect dick and swallowed his shaft licking and sucking as I moaned with delight.

 My hands were on his leathered thighs, and I could feel his muscles under the warm leather. His gloved hands came over and pushed my head down so the top of his dick was at the back of my throat, I just moaned with absolute delight.

 I was inbetween his legs tasting his premium smelling his leathers and feeling the warmth of his body through the leather was just incredible.  I looked up at him pulled away from his dick, ‘upstairs’ I said, ‘I'm your new manager’ I said. He gulped and smiled, ‘ok sir’ he said. He stood up and I saw him better, ‘nice’ I said. He grabbed my ass, ‘I'd like a piece of that’. He followed me upstairs and into the admin area. I locked the door.

 That was it. We both let go of every inhibition.  We were all over each other in each others mouths ass nothing was left untouched. He took off his T to reveal a tattooed torso. I licked at those pecs and then enjoyed the days old stink from his pits, licking them clean.

 Off came his boots and socks. My head went straight into the boots pulling his foot stink into my nose and lungs. It was hypnotic, the socks were unbelievable, male hormone leather and foot smell. I decided to pull off his leather jeans. He was wearing thermals underneath. It wasn’t long before I had them off him and against my nose. He followed quickly by stripping me naked,after that it was body against body.

 He was lying on the sofa legs apart when I decided to stand over him and lower my ass onto that huge dick. He held my waist and guided me on. In seconds he was in me. Pushing hard as I bobbed up and down. I knew he was close due to the breathing and clenched my ass muscles, he came floods in side me, grunting and moaning

 I collapsed on top of him and cuddled in. He did the same. 

After 10 mins or so he got up and went to sit at my desk.  ‘Feels good’ he said, ‘how do I look?’

 I smiled at him picked up my briefs, and threw them at him. ‘You need to dress the part,’ I said. I walked over to him put my hand on his balls and said ‘but first let's get this off you’.

 I went to his dick and removed his cock ring, putting it on my own dick and balls, then the silver neck chain over his head and onto mine then his rings. 

 ‘Better dress the part’ he said.  He rushed to pull my briefs over his dick and balls, then the vest. I passed him my shirt trousers, socks, shoes and jacket, and watched him as he dressed. He was so excited.

 ‘How do you feel ‘I said, as he rubbed himself all over,’ just perfect’ he said with a smile on his face. ‘I’m the boss now and I need a biker’s dick in my ass. I want to take it over my desk’.

 I was taken aback but an offer like that can’t be refused. I moved toward him dick erect. I said ‘I’m a biker’, he said ‘put your gear on first’.

 I didn't need to be told twice and so his thermals went on my legs over my butt and encased my dick. The socks were next followed by the leather jeans. I zipped them up, felt them I was so damn horny. Then the trail boots filthy from wear went on went both my feet and got buckled up.

There was only his BO stenched black T which I pulled over my head. I was the biker now.

 ‘So boss’ I said ‘get you ass over here’. He stood up came round the desk and started to kiss me. I spun him around put my hands around his waist and undid his belt, unzipped him and let his pants fall down. I pulled down his briefs and undid my leather jeans manoeuvred my dick through the thermals pushed him face first down onto his desk. His ass was in the air. I slowly pushed my dick head against it and slowly and gradually moved in up to the hilt. I started to pull in and out then faster becoming more violent.

 He moaned in ecstasy. I was so hot I could smell his scent mingling with mine from the T shirt, and suddenly I just burst and cum flowed into his guts as I totally emptied my load. I dropped on top of him. Held him, and pulled out.

 He was just elated as was I. He pulled up the trousers and sat at my desk. 

‘Fucking incredible man I could enjoy this office, being the boss’, he said.,  ‘go get your jacket, helmet, gloves and reflective from the locker room biker man, then come back up and service your boss’ he said.  ‘They are on the bench’.

 ‘Yes boss’ I said, which excited him. I went down to the locker room, loving the feel of his jeans and boots.

 The rest of his gear was there. I pulled on his fleece which stunk of sweat, then the leather jacket. Zipped myself in and attached it to the jeans.  Fuck it felt good. His hi vis tabard and radio were next, and then I pulled his helmet over my head, and then started to pull, on the gloves. 

 Suddenly the door burst open.  I jumped, ‘Where the fuck have you been Dave’ Dan the controller shouted, ‘get the fuck on that bike Dave, I have an urgent pick up’. He gave me a ticket. ‘Get a fucking move on he screamed’.

 I had no choice I grabbed my gloves and headed out to the bike. He believed I was Dave. 

 The keys were in it. I started it up, entered the details into the sat nav pulled on the gloves and rode off

 It was about 4am, freezing cold and the rain was belting down. Ages since it rode a bike but his gear felt so warm and soft on my skin. I rode for 30mins feeling more erotic, and more at home in his gear. I walked in as a courier and picked up a parcel the guy gave me. He gave me an address for delivery. I put it in the satnav and headed off for the delivery. Before I did it I called into control to let Dan know.

 Before I set off, I got a call from the real Dave. ‘Where the fuck are you’ he said. I explained. ‘What do I do’ he said ‘people will arrive in a couple of hours.’ He was shit scared.  ‘Go to my place .car keys in top drawn it’s the BMW outside. I gave him my address. I was due to be off for a few days.

 It was 530 when it delivered the parcel. I was soaked, but it was so damn sexual and the smell from his gear incredible. The leathers were so tight on me must be the rain I thought.

 I reported to control. I was off at 6 so they told me to go home. I was exhausted

 It was two hours to my place. I was soaked the weather was worse. I wondered where he lived. I rang he answered 

 ‘I'm fucking soaked and freezing’ I said in a gruffer voice than normal, must be the cold. , ‘welcome to my life man’ he replied. ‘I’m in old street, where do u live I cant ride 2 hours in this rain’ I said, he replied. ‘Your ten mins away’ ‘Thank heavens, I’ll go to your place and come over to tomorrow’   ‘ok’ he said, he sounded different. 

 ‘Have u been drinking’ I shouted, ‘yep nice place here’ he said’ just be careful in my place’ I retorted ‘Great body’ he said, ‘what’ I responded, I didn’t know what he meant.  I felt the rain coming through on my chest, and my beard was rubbing on my helmet. Beard? I just put the thought away and headed to his place.

  I parked the bike and headed upstairs to the flat. I found the keys in an outside pocket of the soaked leather jacket. I got inside and started to undress. Helmet. Came off my head, I pulled the gloves off finger by finger, as they stuck to me. Totally sodden. The, soaked, jacket, was unzipped, and fell down my shoulders. Then the damp stinking fleece came away from my chest, then my BO covered t-shirt, I was naked on top and cold. I rushed to remove the boots, full of water; my feet were freezing, then my thermals and socks. I left them all n a pile in the hallway and headed to the bedroom. I saw the bed through the darkness and just jumped in.

 ‘Your fucking freezing’, came a shout from a woman. ‘Fuck’ I said. I pulled the duvet over my head and my ring caught in my hair, hair?  I curled up and she came over and wrapped herself around me. ‘Poor bugger’ she said ‘let's warm you up’. I was terrified she would notice I wasn’t Dave, but I felt best to just stay there and be quiet.  I felt her breasts against my back. Fucking hell, what is going to happen when she sees me and realises I'm not Dave. 

 It felt so good as she as she cuddled in. I went to sleep. The next minute, which must have been hours later, as it was daylight, she was sitting on the bed looking at me with a hot drink. I was shocked she accepted me. I took the drink and as I looked at my hands they were different tattooed, ‘fucking hell’ I said to myself. I put down the drink and walked naked to a mirror. I was shocked I was him it was his face his body. I felt his longer hair his beard, he was a hard biker. I could see the tats on my arms and chest, I was him, My dick started to harden as I felt myself. I liked it.

 ‘How, why’. I was stunned. She came and wrapped herself around me. ‘You still as gorgeous’ she said as she pulled me to the bed, pushed me down, and undressed.

 She was on me in seconds working my dick which responded. I felt her breasts and soon I turned her over and was fucking her for dear life.

 This new body responded to her touch feel and smell like nothing I've ever felt it was so erotic.

 I spent the rest of the day sleeping knowing that I had to get myself over to my own house that evening. The more time I spent in this body as Dave the more I liked it and I decided that maybe keeping it for a few extra days wouldn't harm anyone and will allow him a little bit of luxury in my place.

 She dropped off all of my leathers and so I took the opportunity of putting the same on and telling her I was going out for a ride.

 ‘Can I come’ she said. ‘yes babe’ I replied. I was starting to talk like him. Out came a cig and I started to smoke as I pulled on all my gear.  she disappeared to get ready and when she came out she was dressed head-to-toe in tight black leather with stilettos heels. I couldn't believe it she I couldn't believe it she was incredible. I grabbed her around the waist as we walked down to the bike. I was heading out into the country speeding all the way eventually stopping at a small coffee bar next to some Woods.

 We had something to eat and drink all the time she's rubbing her leg on mine under the table I felt it was time we took a walk the wooded area.

 When we got in there she started kiss me. I was a lot taller than her. So I lifted her up my placing my arms under her legs and pulling her upwards against the tree. She was now level with my face. I took my hand and unzipped her leather jeans which had its zip from back to front

 I was kissing her I gradually unzipped my leather jeans my erect dick pushing in her direction till I found her hole. I pounded her against the tree and she enjoyed every second moaning with Delight.

 I came deep inside of her we lay down on the ground and chatted she said that I seemed different. I asked ‘was good or bad?’ ‘very good ‘she said. after that we walked back to the bike and headed back to the flat

 I received a call from Dave. He told me how much you was enjoying his new richer life and would I be prepared to stay in his place for a little longer.

  I immediately said yes as I was quite enjoying the change he started to laugh

 I came to realise that the change was created by exchanging clothes and getting the sweat of the other person on me. I wondered if he had ever done this before. He told me it was a regular event between himself and his girlfriend. I was shocked, he had been her? He told me how erotic it was and how much she liked it. It was only his body that could do it.

  I couldn't believe what I just heard.  That night I asked her if she wanted to change and she said yes.  She loved to have a dick to fuck with again and so she began to gradually undress and I did the same.

 I took out a joint and had a beer in my hand as I sat and watched the show. She slowly and sensually started to undress. The bedroom was dimly lit and she was high. She sat on the floor in front of me and lifted one leg. Resting her stiletto boot on my knee. I moved forward and found the zip near her vagina and started to slowly pull it down to the sole of her boot, he leg slipped out. My nose immediately went into the boot.

 I did the same with the second one putting it to the side. She stood up in front of me as she turned around and asked me to untie the Basque. I did, it fell to the floor.

 My dick was just raging; I stood up and rubbed myself against her. ‘It will soon be yours Dave she said, ‘all yours’ you can then be fucked so hard. She rubbed her leathered hands over her huge ass and crotch. Smiling at me. ‘you want’ yes yes’ I said.

 ‘unzip me’ she said. I put my hand up to her neck and started to pull the zipper down on the one piece. Right down to her privates. I pushed the leather over her shoulders and unzipped the small zips at her wrists and pulled it off her arms it dropped open near her ass. She was wearing a leather bra, which was filled with her ample breasts.

 She sat on the bed, as I pulled the one piece past her ass and off her legs, I knew id be in it soon, and I was as hard as iron seeping precum.

She undid her stockings and rolled them down her legs throwing them as me. I caught them, then the suspender belt came off and now the leather knickers. ‘These are yours now’ she said. I lit any another joint, and keep drinking. ‘I want to be fucked in your body ‘I screamed.

 ‘Get you gear off man, its mine now’ she said ‘OK OK and I hurried to strip down naked. She smacked my dick and said ‘Ill be using that soon’,

 ‘help me off with my bra she said’. I undid the clasp and she pulled the leather bra off. Sit on the bed she said, and from behind me she put my arms through the bra, it rested on my chest too small for me but soon my chest began to change, it got smaller in girth and started to produce women’s breasts, that started to fill the bra. The nipples were so damn sensitive and I moaned as she fastened the clasp.

  She picked up her knickers and passed them to me and I put my leg through them and pull them up over my massive dick. It started to disappear and I became thinner as the knickers started to fall into place on my body. I was in an other world. She stood behind me and put the suspender belt on me, my hips changed to fit them. She then moved to the floor and put a stocking on my left foot which immediately reshaped itself and rolled them up attaching them to the belt. I couldn’t move or do anything it was like a permanent orgasm. She then did the other leg, and I could see I was now becoming her.

 She passed me her one-piece leather she had been wearing it was very tight on her and showed her ass. I put my legs into the leather and pushed my left leg down and it went in really easy because of the nylons.

 I could feel myself getting thinner and smaller and more curvaceous she came up behind me to help me to pull up the leather one piece so it was over my shoulders and I slid my new arms into it.  I then pulled the zip all the way up from my new vagina up past my new huge tits and up to my neck

 she then placed the Basque around my waist and started to lace it so it pulled my waist in making my ass look bigger it felt so so good. the rest was down to me as she was dressing in my gear.  I picked up this stilettos and with the right one I pushed my new foot into it and pulled it right way up to my waist I got hold of the zip and pulled it up.  I did exactly the same with the other leg.

 I picked up her leather jacket and gloves and pulled them on. Was this real, I felt all over my new body, the tight leather, inside was incredible the feelings.  

 I walked over to the mirror and I saw her reflection, not Dave’s I had changed places so what Dave had said was true. I sat down somewhat shocked enjoying the new experience and watching her dress as me and gradually her looks her body her size all changed she was now the new Dave.

 She (or he) wanted to go out on the bike again, this time to be in control to go to the same place and follow through with the same fuck session this afternoon, but she would be in control and I would be the one against the tree.

 I was more than happy to oblige, I wanted to know how it felt.  I followed him down to the bike, the new tight leathers rubbing my sensitive skin. Mt breasts we just so erotic as they moved in the bra and the leather knickers just slid backward and forward with my precum. I sat on the back for the first time and placed my arms around his waist. it was so sensual as I rested my breasts on his back

 What an incredible experience when we got there, he helped me off the bike holding my ass as we went into the woods. It wasn’t easy walking in stilettos so he held me close, This body was reacting. When we got to the tree, he gently rested me against it, kissing me as he rubbed my breasts. I had my leathered hand on his leather dick and gradually unzipped him and pulled it out. I licked his precum from my leather glove as we kissed.  His hands went in-between my legs and held my thighs lifting me off the ground so my vagina was opposite his erect dick, I pulled down my zip and pulled out my new breasts and then pushed the zip right down so it was opened right to my ass.

 the next minute his huge dick found the target, I was in ecstasy waiting for an experience no man has ever had. He started to push and his head slid into me, My head went backwards in ecstasy as he pushed it right up to the hilt. After that he was backward and forward in and out till he shots loads inside of me and I orgasmed.  my first female orgasm.

 The whole experience was incredible; I understand why these two do this regularly. No way was I going to give this up.

We rode home, stripped off, returned to ourselves and got absolutely drunk and drugged.

All this time the real Dave was texting me. I ignored it. He was wondering where I was. Fuck him; I’m not going back to what I was. I’m Dave and I’m not changing back.

[hallowed-be-thy-username]

Clothing Is Custom, No Labels: Part One

“No matches on prints, DNA, dental. Clothing is custom, no labels. Nothing in his pockets but knives and lint. No name, no other alias.”

Summary: You’re one of the last bespoke tailors in town, making suits and custom clothing for Gotham’s elite. Business men and women, well known lawyers, the Wayne family, and... the Joker?

Genre: Self-insert

Pairing: Ledger!Joker x fem reader 

Warnings: Some cursing

Word count: 1,667

Authors Note: Here comes part one! I recommend reading the Introduction first if you haven’t 💜

Inspirational Music: Beat the Devil’s Tattoo by Black Rebel Motorcycle Club

                                    - Part One -

Sleep did not come easily to you last night. You tossed and turned, worry about this cryptic meeting flooding your dreams and stirring you awake throughout the night. The lack of good sleep left you feeling hazy and distracted. So hazy that you didn’t see the uneven patch of sidewalk beneath your feet. Your hands shot out in front of you to catch yourself, the rough pavement scraping your palms.

You huffed as you stood up and brushed off your sore hands on your pants. Fucking sidewalk. You pass that patch of sidewalk every day and every day, you walk around it. But not today. Today has decided to be different.

Your keys jingled as you unlocked the back door to the shop, yawning with coffee in hand. It was going to be rough, staying here late tonight. After you opened the front curtains and switched on the lights, you reached behind the desk to turn the news on in the background while you readied the shop to open.

“Several Gotham city banks have been robbed within the last week. This string of robberies has left many dead on the scene at each location, all of whom are assumed to be accomplices, as reported by eye witnesses. If that wasn’t strange enough, all of them have been wearing clown masks,” you heard the GCN anchor say from your little tv.

What did he just say? You left the mannequin you were preparing to dress in the window and took long strides back to the desk.

“It is estimated that over sixty million dollars has been stolen thus far. Police have had few leads as their investigation continues but one man appears to be the driving force behind the robberies. Gotham PD has released this photo, captured by security cameras at Gotham National Bank just yesterday,” the anchor continued before an image flashed on the screen.

Your eyes widened and your breath hitched in your throat at the sight of a man in ghostly white makeup with black around his eyes, a blood red smile over his lips and two jagged scars curling up from both corners of his mouth, staring straight at the camera.

“Nothing else is known about this man other than that he goes by the alias, ‘the Joker’, leaving a Joker playing card behind at many of the crime scenes. If you have any information on the man pictured, please contact the anonymous tip line listed at the bottom of your screen.”

You switched the tv off, a shiver running down your spine. That image was burned into your eyes, as clear as it was on the screen moments ago. You blinked a few times but it was still there, staring at you. The Joker. Those eyes just gazed straight through the screen and locked with yours. It was unsettling but you couldn’t help but feel something else. Overwhelming curiosity. Who was this guy? Why did he paint his face? Where did he even come from? This was the first you’d heard of him. Not to mention those scars. Flesh viciously sliced apart, torn clean through, leaving behind a macabre permanent smile. A strange feeling tugged at your stomach as you thought about the pain he must have felt. They were so… terrifying.

The sound of the door opening jolted you out of your trance as you jumped and whipped around to face the door.

“Oh, sorry about that. Didn’t mean to scare you. Where do you want me to leave these?”

A delivery guy stood just inside the doorway with a handcart stacked with boxes. You shook your head and answered with an embarrassed smile, “It’s ok, I guess I’m a little jumpy today. You can leave them anywhere back there, thanks.”

You pointed toward the back room and he nodded on his way to drop them off. Shit, maybe you shouldn’t drink that coffee.

The afternoon crawled by at a frustratingly sluggish pace. The ticking of time made you impatient for the day to be done but simultaneously anxious about the very same idea. A particularly needy woman with perfume that burned your nose picked up an altered dress and a man looking to get his pants hemmed to fit his unfortunately short stature took up some of your time but it was still an hour before closing time. Your stomach fluttered for a second. Tonight it wasn’t really closing time. You decided to preoccupy yourself with a book you’d meaning to read, sitting down and leaning back in your chair, getting comfortable at the desk. Maybe you’d run out to grab a bite to eat soon.

Your eyelids flew open as you suddenly awoke with a start. The shop was dark. You scrambled from your chair to find the clock, grabbing it from the counter and turning it around. 9:40 pm.

Your heart started pounding in your chest, the meeting with your new mystery client was dangerously close. You cursed under your breath and rushed to close the front curtains, hoping to avoid anyone else trying to come in. It was a miracle you weren’t robbed in the first place.

Reality rushed over you and your hands started to shake with unease. Why were you so nervous? Well, this has never happened to you before. Men bringing you that much money ahead of time, in cash no less. Asking, no, telling you to stay open late for them. It was just weird. Weird in a way that made the little hairs on the back of your neck stand up. And now it was here.

A few deep breaths did something to calm your nerves a bit, at least until the hands on the clock reached 9:58. 

Headlights illuminated the maroon velvet curtains over the windows, sending your heart rate soaring once again. He’s here.

Suddenly, an urge to hide made your legs twitch as you stood in front of the desk but you resisted it, fighting to keep yourself from running to the back room. Your heart continued to pound and was joined by a shudder down your spine as you caught sight of two silhouettes, figures cast in shadow over the curtains that were moving toward the door.

You held your breath when the door opened. It was the bald man from yesterday. He made eye contact with you and blinked. You tensed up, waiting for him to say something, but instead he let go of the door to disappear back outside.

What?

Before you could react, the door opened again and a different man stepped into the shop.

You halted in place, staring at him. His hair was stringy and tinted green. His face. His face was covered with a layer of white paint, black smeared around his eyes, that devilish red smile that had been floating around in the back of your mind all day. It was him.

You couldn’t move. You willed your body to do something, anything other than stare at the man with the Glasgow smile in front of you. But that’s all you could do. Blood rushed in your ears as you stood there, trapped in your own body, for what felt like far too long.

He took a few steps toward you, thawing your muscles instantly for you to back up and bump into the desk, your eyes still on him.

“What’s the matter, hm? You look nervous. Is it the scars?” he spoke as he gestured toward his face.

His voice was peculiar. Somewhat high and nasally but deep and gravelly at the same time.

Your mouth opened to speak before you had any words in mind to say. “Uh, um. N-no. I, um, I just recognized you from the, the news,” you sputtered, trying not to visibly tremble.

His eyebrows shot up and he grinned as he replied, “Ahhh, little old me? Well I’m, uh, flatter-ed.”

The only thing you could do was nod as you continued to gaze wide-eyed at him, your hands gripping the edge of the desk behind you like a vice. The way he pronounced words was hypnotizing. They were spoken so deliberately, so carefully chosen.

“Well, as much as I’d love to continue with this, uh, ban-ter of ours, I believe you can make me a suit, yes?” he continued.

You suddenly stiffened to attention after his statement registered in your mind, your already hammering heart flipping uncomfortably in your chest.

“Oh, um, yes. Y-yes I can,” you managed to stutter.

He clapped his hands together, making you jump slightly. “Fan-tastic! Shall we?” he said enthusiastically, extending his arm out toward the mirrored area of the shop.

He waited a moment for you to move, only to watch you continue to stare like an antelope caught in a  lion’s gaze before flicking his tongue out over his scarred lip and sauntering over on his own.

Deep breaths. You took deep breaths, so quickly that they were making you nauseous. You had to try to relax. What if you made him angry? He’s killed people. What would he do if you messed up? It’s too late to back out. You swallowed hard against the lump growing in your throat. You can do this, you can do this, you can do this…

He started thumbing through the books of fabric swatches on the nearby table, scrutinizing each with his eyes and occasionally raising an eyebrow as you slowly approached with pins and needles buzzing in your hands. He suddenly flicked one of the books shut and raised his eyes to meet yours once again, making you stop in your tracks and hold back a gasp.

“Now, what do I call you, doll?” he asked, his dark eyes fixed on yours.

Your words tumbled out, responding all on their own, “Y/N.”

His gaze had captured you again and this time it was drawing you in. The room around you seemed to dissolve and all you could focus on were his spellbinding eyes.

“Y/N, call me Joker,” he purred.

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@amethystmoonprincess @call-me-harley-quinn @paev 💜

[vln-vibes]

First Encounters

Day One of February Memory  @maribat-2k20 Haly’s Circus was the greatest thing Marinette had ever experienced in her six year old life. Her maman and papa had decided to take her while nonna was visiting, having sung praises of the circus and that she knew a few of the performers.

Marinette was young but she knew Gina Dupain could not be tied to one place for so long, it made sense that she had taken to meeting so many people. Marinette hoped to be like her one day; carefree, adventurous, brave and kind.

As the lights dimmed down she could feel the anticipation of the room build up; she thought she saw Nino, Kim and Chloe in the crowd but it was too dark to really tell.  She could always just ask on Monday.

Soon the ringmaster, Haly, came out with the ever used “Ladies and Gentlemen! Boys and Girls! Welcome to Haly’s Traveling Circus”

It was so colorful and captivating, the little girl almost felt like the show was catered for her, easily going above and beyond to almost unthinkable feats.

From strongmen to animal tamers to body contortionists. All of it was amazing!

The clowns were funny and colorful; the acrobats graceful and flawless; the strongmen looking like they put no effort; the animal tamers never using the whip as they just guided the tigers through tricks; knife throwers never missing a beat; contortionists looking effortless and comfortable. A parade of the animals came out and Marinette was a true goner.

The elephants were beginning to leave the arena, clowns and acrobats still doing tricks on their backs, when a drumroll began, lights dimming again, spotlights flying all over the place as Haly’s voice boomed.

“Ladies and Gents, feast your eyes on Haly’s own pride and joy; The Flying Graysons!”

In a split second the spotlights pointed at two different stands high up in the tent, had they always been so high up? As two men, one on each side, began to throw themselves onto the middle, she felt her stomach sink looking lower; there was no safety net.

Marinette subconsciously began to play with her lucky charm, a string bracelet she made one day after school and concentrated her wishes in.

The little girl never took her eyes off of the Flying Graysons; the two men performing life defying flips as they swung onto the different poles. Suddenly two women joined the mix, grabbing onto the men as they flew. Marinette, even as a six year old, knew that they loved what they were doing and were good at it.

Out of nowhere, one of the women was being hung upside down by a man, reaching out for something. Then a boy joined them.

She could almost imagine him laughing, maybe he was, as he was thrown from adult to adult, all while doing flips and tricks between intervals.

Even from a distance she could tell he was not much older than she was, gripping her lucky charm tighter. 

Soon the boy was placed down onto one of the stands, waving at the crowd as they cheered.

“Now for the Flying Graysons’ signature move; the Quadruple Somersault!”

Everything seemed to move in slow motion, Marinette counting the rotations as best as she could. She didn’t notice the photo her nonna took as she stared intently.

As soon as it started, it was over, the Flying Graysons and the rest of the circus coming out for one last act and a bow.

“How’d you enjoy that my little Marinetta?” Marinette could barely stop herself from shouting in joy and jumping around as she began to babble on about the amazing feats of the circus. Her family only laughed along at her enthusiasm as they walked closer to the stands, though Marinette bumped into familiar faces as she did.

“Hey Nino, Kim” the petite girl had caught their attention as their parents were talking to one another. The two waved back at their friend from school, fangirling about the awesome performances they witnessed.

“I have a little surprise for my little Marinetta; I’m sure you’d like to show your friends as well” Marinette couldn’t help but enthusiastically nod as she dragged the two boys where her grandmother was guiding them, their parents trailing slowly behind. The trio noticed Chloe, arms crossed as both her parents seemed occupied with phone calls, promptly ignoring her, as she complained that she wanted to leave. 

She hadn’t known much about Chloe in the year that they’ve been classmates other than she could be a brat at times and was very bosy. They didn’t talk often since Chloe would rather play or give orders around the girls while Marinette didn’t mind getting dirty with the boys. She felt sad for the girl, giving her a small wave; Chloe looked surprised but huffed and gave a small wave back. Chloe wasn’t exactly her friend but she reasoned that the girl didn’t have many. Nino and Kim helped Marinette beacon Chloe closer, pointing at Gina, who had noticed that the kids had stopped and was now watching as they tried to convince the blonde to join them.

She looked skeptical before pulling at her parents’ pants, the two giving different looks, one of annoyance and the other of worry, before she pointed at the group of children. The two eyed one another for a moment before nodding and going back to whatever it was they were doing before.

Now the four children walked behind Gina like ducklings, each giggling and talking about their favorite parts; Kim liked the strongmen, Nino the clowns, Chloe admitted that the ringmaster was her favorite but agreed that Marinette’s choice of the Flying Graysons was acceptable as well. They had been so caught up with each other that they hadn’t realized they were now in the center of the ring until a familiar voice laughed before them.

“Well, if it isn’t the infallible Regina” the kids stood in awe as Haly, as in ringmaster Haly, gave a kiss on both cheeks to Marinette’s nonna.

“Oh that was so long ago Haly dear. I go by Gina or nonna these days” the older woman laughed as she got the kids to approach, “This is my granddaughter and her friends from school”

“Why aren’t you little things?” Haly gave a tip of his top hat, a slight curtsey as he greeted them “ Its always a pleasure entertaining family, say you look close to little Dickie’s age” the man then whistled, some of the workers, they realized were the performers that were beginning to prep for their next show later in the evening, turned around. “Where’s little Dickie?”

“Here!” they looked up to see the young boy from the Flying Graysons wave from the staircase that lead up to the balcony where he and the others would fly. “What’s up Haly?”

“Regina is that you?” the boy turned to see the four older Flying Graysons hug Gina as she returned it in earnest. “Oh look at you all, is that little Richard?”

One of the black haired men and a ginger woman nodded, the boy getting close to them, as they showed him off.

“Our little boy is certainly bigger since last time” the man, John Grayson, chuckled as his wife, Mary, sighed.

“Has it really been two years since you left already?”

“You know me; I can never stay in one place for so long”

“Wow so your grandmother is Regina?” the boy, Richard? Dick?, was looking at Marinette though the girl herself seemed confused.

“Y-Yes? I thought her name was Gina” she looked quizzically, wondering what exactly it was that her grandmother got into when she was exploring the world.

“That’s so cool! I remember her motorcycle routine; it was awesome” the boy exclaimed as the four Parisians re-evaluating the lady they knew as a doting grandmother who traveled a lot.

“Thanks…”

“I’m Richard John Grayson, though everyone just calls me Dick. What’s your name?”

“U-Uh I’m Marinette Dupain-Cheng and these are my friends”

“Nino Lahiffe!” the boy seemed to want to bury himself alive given how loud he had unintentionally been.

“Le Chien Kim” the boy laughed, ecstatic because he wanted to see if they could sneak off to where the animals were kept.

“Chloe Bourgeois” the girl said with a flick of her pigtails, almost scoffing at the boy. She supposed he wasn’t awful given he managed to wow her mother when his family performed.

“Y-You’re family was amazing!” Marinette piped up, her face growing red even as her friends joined in afterwards giving their praises.

“Totally cool!”

“Not entirely boring”

“How does it feel?”

“Hmm” Dick hummed pensively before snapping his fingers playfully “ It’s like flying”

“Isn’t it scary?” Marinette shyly asked as she looked up “I was so nervous I kept holding my lucky charm” she pointed at a little handmade bracelet as to emphasize on her point.

“Sometimes but I remember that I’m a Grayson; we’re made to fly” the boy said with as much bravado and certainty as if he had said that the sky was blue.

“O-Oh” Marinette let on before taking off her charm and handing it to him with as much care as a six year old could “I’d feel better knowing you had a lucky charm too”

“Wow Mari you don’t let anyone touch your charm!” Kim exclaimed as the others nodded. She had once tackled a kid who tried taking it from her and moved when another tried grabbing the wrist where it was.

“It’s a great honor” Nino nodded sagely.

“Well then I’ll treasure it forever Mari” Dick laughed along, tying it with little struggle. 

As Gina watched the children she just knew it was the start of something special between the Flying Grayson and her little granddaughter.