#Golf D Clubs

[conceptofjoy]

the mirthful messiah cult is a fringe belief that trolls are like usually “what the fuck are you talking about” when brought up, but i think its more akin to like flat earthers and how no one really takes them seriously. however flat earthers usually have some WILD political takes as well, and can appear to swerve right completely out of nowhere. qanon. white supremacy and antisemitism.

[eloiscs]

' pues, sí... le comenzaba a decir a sus amigues que era suerte de principiante para sentirse mejor, pobre ' finge limpiar una lágrima falsa de su mejilla. ' seguro soñará conmigo e intentará comprar algún objeto caro para sentirse mejor ' niega suavemente, porque honestamente, en su cabeza así es como todas las personas con dinero solucionaban todo. y, de ella tenerlo, también lo hacía. ' ¡la serie de la niñera! ¿no? ' quizá la estaba mezclando con algo más pero nombre se le hacía muy familiar. ' con esta cantidad de dinero podemos comprar algo, ¿vienes? ' la invita, girándose para que tuviese en frente el lazo del corset. ' un poquito solamente, ¿si? '

no sabe si es por todo el discurso contrario, pero se marea un poco tratando de seguir el hilo a narrativa. ' menuda sorpresa que se debió llevar. ' la risita comienza a hacer un cosquilleo por su garganta. ' me alegra que lastimaras su orgullo. ' habla con total sinceridad, imitando su hablar en un susurro cargado de complicidad. no había algo que detestara más que una persona capaz de subestimar a otra. ' fran fine. hay un capítulo donde usa algo así. ' entonces alza el bolso con forma de corazón, como si pieza fuese suficiente para que se hiciera conexión. ' lo considero como un plus para tu victoria. ganaste $ 500, te mereces poder respirar bien. '

[cameronsbabydoll]

SFW ALPHABET HEAD-CANNONS —.✦ RAFE CAMERON

A — Admiration ⟢ What do they admire about you?

Rafe admires the way you hold yourself, he admires the fact the amount of kindness in your heart and the way you see the good in everyone! — But he won��t deny that he always will admire you physically

B — Bonding ⟢ What’s their favorite bonding activity?

Rafe loves taking you to the country club, showing you off in your little tennis skirt showing you off to all the other business men. He loves looking back before taking a hit on the golf course and seeing you either chatting with some of your girl friends or seeing you sit in the golf cart scrolling on your phone with a pout on your face.

C — Cuddling ⟢ How do they like to cuddle?

Rafe is 100% the big spoon, he loves holding you, wrapping your legs around him, feeling your head on his chest and your acrylic nails drawing shapes on his arms.

D — Dates ⟢ What are date nights like?

When Rafe chooses date nights it varies from dinner at the country club, a night on the yacht, or taking you outside Outer Banks to an upper class restaurant! (And he books a night at a fancy hotel)

E — Emotions ⟢ How do they express their emotions?

Rafe has never been one to show their emotions, it takes him a while to slowly express his emotions and when he does it’ll take him a minute. He usually shows his emotions through his body language whether it’s a clenched jaw or his knuckles turning white.

F — Future ⟢ How do they see their future with you?

Rafe sees himself marrying you and living the “all american dream” living in the mansion of Tannyhill, and he’ll be the CEO and the man of the house. All he wants is to come home to his beautiful wife dressed in a pretty sundress making dinner and their two kids playing around the house.

G — Gifts ⟢ How do they feel about gift giving?

Rafe is a huge gift giver! He absolutely loves to take you on shopping sprees, picking out clothes (especially lingerie) for you to try on, for you he doesn’t mind spending a good ten thousand dollars if it makes you smile.

H — Holding Hands ⟢ How do they hold hands?

I don’t think Rafe is a big hand holder but when he does, is hand is on top engulfing yours, gently squeezing your hand when you zone out.

I — Injury ⟢ How would they react if you got hurt?

His protective mode is on! He’ll set you down on the nearest surface and bend down to your level asking you “What happened? Did someone hurt you?” best believe if someone hurt you he will grab his gun and deal with it.

J — Jealousy ⟢ How jealous do they get?

Very!!! Rafe is a jealous and possessive man, he sees a man just talking to you and you best believe he is seething! He can’t help it, he doesn’t like seeing what’s his being around someone else!

K — Kisses ⟢ How do they like to kiss you?

It depends, it goes between him giving you a soft kiss, he usually gives these when he’s in a rush in the morning for a meeting or he’s busy trying to get a perfect shot on the golf course, but for the most part he kisses you with passion, putting his large hands around your neck bending down and picking you up, never stopping the kiss. (Sometimes the kisses get quite sloppy)

L — Love ⟢ What’s their love language?

I’d say Rafes love language is both physical touch and acts of services. He loves having a hand on you at all times, it helps him feel grounded when he feels your skin on his, plus it’s a way to show you off. Rafe loves doing things for you, it makes him feel manly and proactive, sometimes it’s him making sure you don’t bump into anything or him bringing you breakfast after a long night!

M — Morning ⟢ How are mornings spent with them?

Mornings are usually spent tangled between each other on the kings side bed, sometimes Rafe is already in the shower when you wake up and sometimes he’s on the balcony porch overlooking the backyard, he’ll be sitting on one of the couches dressed in just his grey sweatpants manspreading his legs and patting his thigh for you to join.

N — Nightmare ⟢ What is their worst fear?

Rafes worst fear is losing you, he’s so afraid that you’ll see him as he sees himself. He doesn’t want you to leave him, he can be insecure and it’ll lead him to trying to get you to be co-dependent on him sometimes.

O — Obvious ⟢ How obvious is their love to you?

It can be obvious in some cases, he isn’t the type to pull a Patrick Verona stunt and sing you a song in front of everybody, he gives subtle hints. He will drop off large bouquets of your favorite flowers and he’ll give you his overprotective nature to show you that he loves and cares for you.

P — Pet Names ⟢ What do they call you?

In public it goes between “Doll” “Sweetheart” “Baby” but he’ll say it in a bit of a condescending way! (But to preface his pet names are very different in private)

Q — Quirk ⟢ What is one of their quirks?

Rafe is a neat freak! He does not tolerate messes, it overstimulates him. Rafe can not deal with his bed being messed up or his clothing all over the floors.

R — Romance ⟢ How romantic are they?

Rafe can be romantic, like I said he doesn’t go over the top in a show off way, but in private he will. He doesn’t feel the need to show his love to you for the purpose of others but he will do anything you ask! You want to go shopping? He’s already in the car, you want to go on a vacation? He’s already preparing the private jet!

S — Show Off ⟢ Do they like to show you off?

Rafe absolutely loves it! Like I said he’s a possessive guy, so nothing feels better than to walk around Outer Banks with his hand on your lower back as you cling to his arm dressed in a cute dress and kitten heels! Oh boy does he love the way the other guys look at the two of you with faces of jealousy and envy!

T — Time ⟢ How quickly do they fall in love with you?

I think Rafe knew the moment you moved to the Outer Banks that you were the one for him, however it did take him a minute to admit it out loud.

U — Upset ⟢ How do they comfort you?

Rafe isn’t the best at comforting people but he tries for you, he’ll ask you to talk about it but he just ends up threatening whoever upsets you so now he approaches these situations by pulling you onto his lap and asking if he can do anything to help.

V — Value ⟢ What do they value most about you?

A better question is what doesn’t he value about you? Rafe finds value in everything when it comes to you, even if that value annoys the hell out of him. But overall Rafe values your sweet and loving personality, it’s a comforting and warm feeling to be around.

X — X-Ray ⟢ How easily can they read you?

Rafe can read right through you, he can tell your upset by the pout on your face and the crossed arms and the way you stomp your foot on the ground like a little bunny! He may tease you at first but just know he will always be there for you.

Y — Yearning ⟢ How easily do they miss you?

As much as Rafe tries to make you co-dependent on him, he definitely has his co-dependcy issues when your away. Even when your just gone for the day going shopping or to the spa, you best believe Rafe is constantly checking on you through messages, instagram, and even your location.

Z — Zzzz ⟢ What are nights like with him?

It depends on the nights, sometimes Rafe comes home late from work and he’ll see you cuddling his pillow waiting for his arrival, but on a normal night you two eat dinner and sometimes you’ll watch a movie and fall asleep in each others arms. (Rafe refuses to go to sleep before you do, just in case something happens!)

[savage-daughter-of-nikitie]

D. Earl Stephens, retired managing editor of the military's daily newspaper, Stars and Stripes, issues a warning, not only to the average citizen of the U.S. but, I believe, to rank and file military personnel at home and around the world.

He's exhorting them to consider if they will follow the orders of a madman hell bent on destroying the U.S. or follow the U.S. Constitution. I suspect tens of thousands of troops will disobey orders rather than invade Canada (less so with Greenland or Panama, I suspect). Those will be the first shots of the civil war.

I'm posting the entire text of his piece here and will link to the article in comments.

@followers @highlight

---

“It would be helpful if we stopped pretending this terrible chapter in American history won’t close without bloodshed …

It would be helpful if Americans, and our feeble Democratic politicians in particular, stopped implying by their comatose actions that Democracy is some damn American right and has no end date.

America very well might be arriving at hers, because, yes, it really is that bad right now.

Rather than bringing Ping-Pong paddles and groovy, little signs to a fascist hate-fest disguised as a State of the Union speech, it would be helpful if our meek, out-of-touch Democratic politicians at least pretended they understood the perilous moment we are standing in right now.

We are in deep, deep trouble, and now would be a wonderful, necessary time to step in front of your favorite mirror and honestly ask yourself what you are willing to do to fight for our country’s survival.

We are but six-plus weeks into the repulsive, wannabe-king’s second term and the damage he and his party are causing are already at catastrophic levels.

Our air, water, earned benefits, peace, public safety, civil rights, and human rights are all under immediate threat. Worse? This is only the first course of many that will be served by the vindictive, orange madman, and his pathetic party of supplicants.

The insults, the attacks, endless provocations, and thrashing of our Constitution will continue daily. All this carefully planned evil will be aimed at exactly one thing: breaking us.

Everything he is doing is designed to pound us into submission, and he’s having a grand damn doing it.

This was entirely his aim when he and his pet mutt, JD Vance, double-teamed Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy at the behest of Boss Putin in the Oval Office on Friday. The idea was to publicly humiliate the man who has done more to defend America’s interests across the globe than any Republican in memory.

Because Zelenskyy has tasted gun powder and breathed the odious smell of death on the battlefield, he wasn't about to be pushed around by some morbidly obese, 78-year-old yacht club bully and his toady, who think swinging a sand wedge to free a golf ball from some bunker is dangerous business.

Zelenskyy punched back and wasn't having it. He told the truth, and didn't back down. The future of his country is on the line right now, and he acted like it.

And therein lies the playbook for dealing with this sadistic bastard — if only the cautious, too-clever Democratic Party and their weak leaders, Chuck Schumer and Hakeem Jeffries, bothered paying attention.

While Rome burns, they dither.

They act as if we have all the time in the world, when time is something that is not guaranteed right now. They seem to somehow have no idea how bad things are about to get, or most certainly will be when elections they seem to be pinning their hopes on roll around next year.

Everything changed on November 5th, but by the looks of it, very little has changed in the Democratic Party.

This country will never be the same, and the sooner we come to grips with that, and start acting accordingly the better.

What would you do if everything you had and everyone you loved was threatened? Would you act like Zelenskyy or Schumer?

One of the big mistakes of Joe Biden’s presidency was this notion that everything was going to be OK, and that his idea of America matched the actual circumstances of America.

If I had a dollar for every time he said this, I’d fold up shop and move to Tahiti:

“We are the United States of America – there's nothing we can't do if we do it together. We just have to remember who we are.”

It was a noble statement and magical thinking that would have worked great pre-2016, when we could still believe without being laughed at that our two parties could work together in a crisis to protect America.

When we were attacked by the terrible human being who is now somehow leading us January 6, 2021, that magical thinking needed to go out the nearest window.

Instead, our Justice Department twiddled its thumbs and allowed the America-attacker to build himself back up, so that WE would have to deal with him AGAIN.

I seethe just thinking about this, but it is where we are right now, and the sooner we all understand this the better.

The clock is ticking. The bomb is in place.

Which brings me back around to my original premise: At some point, he will do something so heinous … so anti-America … so dangerous … that the people who truly love our country will be forced into the streets to take a life-or-death stand. Sadly, this is actually the best-case scenario, because the worst case is we just go quietly into the dark, gloomy night and become an authoritarian country, where we have zero rights or say in how we are governed.

Yesterday under the cover of his blankets, the America-attacker shared this with us:

Now read the First Amendment: "Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; OR THE RIGHT OF THE PEOPLE PEACEABLY TO ASSEMBLE, AND TO PETITION THE GOVERNMENT FOR A REDRESS OF GRIEVANCES."

He is telling us what he thinks of America and silly things like the Constitution. Kings don’t pay attention to that kind worthless drivel.

And, really, end of the day, it not him who we have most to fear. It’s the stupid, goddam Republicans who are stubbornly in all of our lives. These are the people who have illustrated there is no known pain or sacrifice to our civil liberties or pocketbooks that they won’t absorb just for the satisfaction of watching some poor kid of color going without something they didn’t think she should have.

So the choice is yours: You can continue thinking there is some magical way out of this, or you can begin to take the threat to everything you hold dear seriously, and ACT accordingly.”

— D. Earl Stephens, author of “Toxic Tales: A Caustic Collection of Donald J. Trump’s Very Important Letters” and finished up a 30-year career in journalism as the Managing Editor of Stars and Stripes.

[probablybadrpgideas]

It's actually a misconception that natural ones are critical fails in D&D.

While admittedly a very common houserule, if you check the actual player's handbook, you'll see that the only noted effect of rolling a 1 on your skill check is that the GM gets to break your kneecaps with a golf club.

[kumkaniudaku]

The Lady in Pink

Summary: Terry realizes his feelings run deeper than he though.

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC (Patrice Ellis)

Word Count: 2,006

Warnings: None

Take a seat in pairs. Put away your books and notes. Prepare for a game of Pop Quiz. 

Instructions rattled off in Mr. Turner’s patented Kentucky drawl sounded more like an auctioneer’s ramblings than anything remotely coherent. Still, Terry settled into a stool behind the high black countertops in the back of their 5th period forensic’s lab. 

If Terry were honest, he hadn’t cracked open his textbook in days despite a looming chapter test at the end of the week. He’d get to it eventually. Between trying to impress scouts every Friday, another year of book club, and college prep, finding the time to study fingerprinting was low on the priority list. If not for Patrice, he’d be hovering around a measly D+ instead of his modest B-. She kept him steady, especially in impromptu group quizzes. 

Sliding into the seat beside Terry, Patrice pushed a perfectly curled tendril behind her ear and adjusted her glasses, unaware of the chain reaction she’d set off. Ear perked like a dog hearing its name roll from the lips of its owner. Eyes scanned her from head to toe, taking in every detail from her gold hoop earrings, to her pink strawberry printed cardigan and skin tight jeans. Terry watched her in a haze of teenaged longing and romantic feelings starting to change his brain chemistry in ways he hadn’t prepared for. The more time they spent rubbing shoulders during weekend hang outs and talking about the future, the more some unidentifiable emotion blossomed in his heart. 

His mother said he liked Patrice a few weeks back. “Close,” he thought to himself though he vehemently denied it to maintain his privacy. Whatever this new thing was extended far past surface level ‘like’. He ‘liked’ Theresa Allen sophomore year. She was a cool girl, but she didn’t make him happy the way a Saturday at the mall with Patrice made him happy. 

He ‘liked’ golfing with his dad on occasion. Though the sport was too slow for his taste, smelling fresh cut grass in the breeze and drinking bland sweet tea along side the man he looked up to most was always fun. 

He ‘liked’ a slice of apple pie sometimes. It wasn’t his favorite, but he could go for a piece if the mood hit him. 

Liking Patrice was long gone. This new thing, complete with uncontrollable thoughts and a newfound desire to know how her lip gloss tasted on his lips, was something else entirely.

“I like your sweater,” he complimented before she could greet him. “It’s nice. Where’d you get it?” 

Patrice giggled. “Thanks, TJ. My auntie made it for me. She’ll be your biggest fan when I tell her what you said.” Her attention flittering to chatter on the other side of the room gave Terry another opportunity fox his daily fix of silent admiration. Yeah, this wasn’t like. This something all consuming and entirely overwhelming. 

When she’d had her fill of observing her surrounding, Patrice looked back at Terry to speak.

“You ever get to chapter five,” she asked, looking over at her best friend. Ogling turned into a black stare and a twinge of guilt forcing him to look away from her expectant gaze. She kissed her teeth. “TJ…” 

“I know, I know,” Terry groaned. “I’ll be caught up when we study Wednesday, I promise. You want me to bring your favorite?” White chocolate covered pretzels always did the trick. Minor disagreements, his own absentmindness, and everything in between could be cured with her snack of choice. He watched her break into a slow smile and nod. “Yeah, I thought so. You got it. Hand to God.”

“You better. Especially after I carry us through this quiz.” 

“Oh you mean like how I carried us through the calc assignment last week?” A friendly nudge to Terry’s shoulder from Patrice pushed them both over the edge into a pit of giggles. 

Like two parts of a whole, Terry and Patrice made up the slack where the other lacked. Number crunching and complex math theory was like child’s play to Terry. He enjoyed the grueling process of combining letters and numbers to come to a finite conclusion. As he put it one evening over the phone, math came with logical conclusions. Even if you had ten ways to get to it, there was only one right answer. Patrice let him drone on and on most nights until he provided the solution for her to work her way out of a maze of erased possibilities into whatever would get her the coveted check mark and passing grade she was chasing. 

Patrice took over the words and menial task of remembering facts. If Terry needed to know a summary of To Kill A Mockingbird’s core themes or what exactly John Steinbeck was trying to get across in Of Mice and Men, he knew he could ask one question to send Patrice off into a winding tangent. Her ability to simplify colorful language was one of his favorite things. His second, was watching her adjust the satin ribbon in her ponytail before one of Mr. Turner’s famous pop quizzes. 

As she gave the pink bow a firm tug, Mr. Turner passed around buzzers for each group. “The rules are simple folks. One spokesperson for the group. You get five seconds to answer after buzzing in. No answer loses points. First group to 25 gets their lowest grade bumped up by 15 points. Any questions pupils?” 

“Can Patrice and Terry split up this time? I really need these points.” 

Mr. Turner shook his head as his finger wagged in the air. “No easy wins in this class! Earn it!” 

Low chuckles rumbled throughout the classroom at the tandem’s expense, earning a quiet eye roll from Patrice. Three school years in and she still hadn’t made much progress with some classmates through no fault of her own. 

Terry shot daggers across the room to the culprit before leaning over to offer comfort. “Forget her. She could get as many points as she wants and still wouldn’t pass.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Patrice shrugged. “I don’t lose. Only answer if you’re sure.” 

A smile crept across Terry’s face while he watched Patrice settle into her seat, cracking her knuckles before delicate fingers settled on the big red button between them. Competitive Patrice was one of his favorite version of his best friend. Typically, she didn’t involve herself with the taunting, name calling, and brute force of competition. She thought football and boxing were barbaric despite Terry convincing her to spend more time with his two hobbies. Physical battles were never her thing. But mental warefare? She loved demoralizing her opponents with with wit, finding great pleasure in brain games regardless of reward. Diamond Presscott had unfortunately put herself into Patrice’s sniping scope. Doomed. The girl was doomed. 

Question one. Mr. Turner shuffled through notecards and settled on the first opportunity for five points. “What is the purpose of cranial features?” 

“They allow the skull to grow!” Their shared buzzer could barely light the blinker on their station before Patrice was off to the races with an answer. 

“Correct! Way to be quick.” 

Terry offered his knuckles for Patrice to pound, receiving a light push away so she could focus. “When we win,” she muttered without looking in his direction. 

“My bad, champ. Go ahead.” He chuckled.

Back and forth she and Mr. Turner went as if they were the only two people in existence. Terry observed in awe, mouth slightly ajar at the beauty sitting beside him. 

“The size of a shotgun is described by?” 

“Gauge.” 

“Handwriting’s individuality is classified as?” 

“Class evidence.”

“What are the three types of forgery?” 

“Blind, simulated, and traced!” 

Each question met with a correct answer and beaming smile from Mr. Turner earned assorted groans from students well aware that the points they needed were firmly snatched from their grasps before they truly had a chance. 

Patrice didn’t care. Call it an unfair advantage or being a teacher’s pet – it mattered not to a young girl intent on reaching the highest academic heights possible. She’d do it all again the next day and the one after for the thrill of seeing smug smiles turned into tight frown. 

Terry was more than happy to be on the other side. Being in her orbit was gift from God himself and, as he found himself fully engrossed in every soft bounce of her ponytail and glint of light reflecting off shiny, full lips, he couldn’t help but to send a quick thank you to the man upstairs. 

He liked Patrice when he met her. Every moment spent side by side in book club meetings and study hall sessions left him giddy once he returned home. He liked her smile and her sense of humor. He like the deep dimple in her right cheek. He liked how she wore her hair, the vanilla body mist she wore, how she tapped her pencil when she was thinking, and her way of infusing smart sarcasm in every conversation. 

He  liked her yesterday and two weeks before. He liked her when he woke up that morning and took extra time moisturizing his hair and patting careful sprays of his father’s expensive cologne on his neck. He liked her when they passed each other in the hallway and made silly faces en route to separate classes for first block. He even liked her when he sat down in Mr. Turner’s 5th period forensics class, waiting for her to join his side. 

So what was this new phenoment? 

What was this tightening in his lungs and quickening of his heart? Why did he feel so safe and seen without her ever acknowledging his presence in her pursuit of total domination? Was the absence of everyone but her a sign of something deeper or the result of sitting too close to the TV like his mother had warned about all those years? 

As big feelings overtook a starry-eyed young man discovering new information during his favorite science course to date, Patrice quietly pumped her fist and looked to him with a wide smile that rivaled the sun. “Light work,” she boasted while looking for his approval. “Isn’t that what you say during your sports ball thing or did I get it wrong?” 

“That was right,” he chuckled as nonchalantly as he could before raising his hand for a high five. “Good job, Treece. I really like being on your team.” 

Screwing her face, Patrice placed the back of her hand on his cheek. “Terry being nice before lunch? You must be sick.” Her knuckles searched for heat on his face, softly lulling his eyes closed for a moment to revel in her attention. “You ain’t warm. Maybe you finally realizing who’s really in charge over here.” 

Her snickering sounded like a symphony in the ears of a young boy slowly wading into grown man feelings. Terry smiled back at Patrice, totally ignoring lab instructions rattled off and children shuffled pages and prepared for 40 minutes of instruction. 

Dark pupils dilated inside green irises. The morning’s previous problems floated away into the ether to make way for unexplained happiness. Stress slid from newly broad shoulders, down his back, and out of the door to know him no longer. His cheeks flushed while the tips of his ears turned a new shade of red. Sweaty palms nearly left handprints on his jeans. Bright red strawberries knitted onto a pretty pink sweater filled gave way to perfectly smooth brown skin as Terry examined Patrice from head to toe once more. His heartbeat quickened to the beat of a thousand flutters in his belly at the sight of her small frown while she sat deep in thought. A beauty like no other.

This wasn’t like, or infatuation, or some thing called lust that his grandma often blamed for the sins of man. Something stronger had taken up residence in his heart. 

For the first time in his young life, he could call love by its name. Patrice.

—————-

Reply if you'd like to be tagged in future work!

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[astonmartingf]

SUMMER IS FOR FALLING IN LOVE ; CS55

carlos sainz x fem!reader

. . . finding the best way to maximize work and play for the summer break, carlos spends his time in a country club meeting his summer fling

amgf this is my first post in my old blog and i was so proud of this when i thought about it and i really liked the execution of the trilogy

next: situations

carlossainz55

liked by charles_leclerc and 1,583,957 others

carlossainz55 D-14

view 284,613 comments...

user1 what a busy day for carlos

user2 someone is excited for the summer break

landonorris just how many activities did you do mate?

carlossainz55 not enough

user3 you can see how much has he been looking forward for this break

user4 TRUE!!! man left in the early morning and had time to play golf and yacht

user5 i mean, with how the season is going i too would look forward for a break

user6 well he deserves to enjoy the break

charles_leclerc when did you exactly leave? i woke up and they said you left

carlossainz55 left at 4am i think... slept on the way in the plane

charles_leclerc you're busy busy huh, enjoy mate

carlossainz55 you too, don't miss me too much

charles_leclerc now why would you say that 🙄

yourinstagram uploaded a new story

[this country club has some good amenities]

friend1 replied to your story

ONGMG who is this bestie????

are you actually getting laid rN? i'm proud 😃

just country club eye candy...

wow, NGL I'M THIS 🤏 much jealous

friend2 replied to your story

!!!!!!!

????

stay safe, get laid 🤘🤘🤘

SHUT UP 😭

dw i will babes, see you soonest

carlossainz55

liked by scuderiaferrari and 2,482,927 others

carlossainz55 D-6

view 364,683 comments...

charles_leclerc enjoying the break i see 🙈

carlossainz55 i am very much enjoying my break

charles_leclerc seems like you're enjoying a bit too much, don't forget to come back next week

carlossainz55 you miss me don't you?

charles_leclerc 🙊

user7 who is that in the background 😃

user8 hmm carlos with a mystery woman

user9 what is going on? CARLOS SOFT LAUNCHING???

user10 I TOO WANT TO spend summer break with carlos sainz BUT WE ALL CAN'T HAVE THAT CAN WE??????

landonorris i see

carlossainz55 shut up boy

user11 see what?? WHAT SRE WE SEEING LANDO?

landonorris i didn't say anything

carlossainz55 you're implying something, shut up

carlossainz55 uploaded a new story

[back and better than ever]

charles_leclerc replied to your story

how are you already back at maranello?

i needed to get away

dang

got too attached?

yeah, not her though

WHAT?? what did you say?

what's there to say?

i just left

landonorris replied to your story

you're back early

why'd you leave?

not you too

you clearly like her, why are you avoiding it

yeah i like her, but that's that it's was a summer fling

uh huh, a "summer fling"

good luck avoiding your feelings

[misctf]

Selection Day

“Mr. Wagner, this is an impressive application.” The man mused, “Graduated college last year with a 4.0 GPA in biology. I see you completed prep courses to become a physician.”

James Wagner nodded, “That would be ideal.”

His father promised he’d have nothing to worry about on Selection Day, which occurred during the month of one’s 23rd birthday. Judges reviewed your file: extracurriculars, criminal record, education, etc., to determine the perfect career for you- and give you all the tools to succeed.

“I see here your father is Senator Wagner and your mother is Dr. Wagner, both distinguished in their fields. Quite a tough election year though.”

“Dad isn’t too worried though. His campaign manager says he has a plan.” James leaned back in his chair, “Already planning the victory party.”

“You should celebrate too. I think you’ll be perf...” The judge’s phone rang, cutting him off, “Excuse me Mr. Wagner, I have to take this.”

The judge left James to himself. The young man sighed in relief, despite some growing anticipation. When his brother went through the process, they didn’t change too much. They enhanced his attractive features and gave him a greater sense of ambition- all fitting for his career in finance. But he was still his brother. James hoped for something similar. He knew his application would let him select from “tier A models” so he was feeling good. And afterwards, he and his dad would go golfing and get dinner down at the country club to celebrate.

“Mr. Wagner, come with me” The judge said as he returned to the room.

James nodded, “Uh by the way, I was hoping to go with a Tier A physician model...”

“No worries James, just follow me please.”

James followed closely entering a room filled with various pods. A knot formed in his stomach. This is where it would happen. He gulped and watched as the judge walked towards a pod and pressed some buttons. This was it. Calmly, James undid his button shirt, revealing his lean and tanned body. Years of track and caddying on the golf course gave him a nice tan and lean physique. As he finished undressing, his attention shifted to the pod as it whirred to life and opened.

“Here it goes.” He whispered.

The young man stepped into the pod and watched the door shut. A small window allowed him to see the outside world and he nodded at the judge, who frowned in return. And then it started. The mechanical hands that lay dormant suddenly came to life, scanning James’s body.

“Applicant: James Wagner.” A soothing mechanical voice stated, before rattling off demographics that James simply tuned out, “Model: Gym Staff, Front Desk, Tier D.”

“Wait what?” James called out, “Hey! I think somethings wrong.” He tried to convey, “That’s not...”

He barely had a moment to speak as a metallic substance wrapped around his legs. He cried out as it burned his skin. And slowly, his legs began to expand, filling with raw muscle. His slender calves popped with muscle, while his 10.5 inch feet expanded to size 13. He held back tears as his thighs expanded with firm muscle. And then, his lower extremities were freed.

“Holy fuck!” He shouted, as he wriggled his new toes, “Please, I think there’s been some kind of mistake!” The judge wasn’t paying attention anymore, just talking to someone on the phone.

Before he could continue, a saddle emerged from underneath him and wrapped around his ass and cock. A gentle warmth encompassed them, causing James to shudder. But as he focused on the sensation, more of the substance covered his chest and torso. Similar to his legs, he felt an intense warming sensation. And as the warmth intensified, he felt himself growing. He watched as a strong core and bounceable pecs formed from his once lean physique and groaned as his torso stretched, adding height. But it wasn’t just height. He was  becoming wider as his back expanded with muscle. When the mold finally released him, he was left with a physique he could only dream of obtaining naturally. But this wasn’t what he wanted. He didn’t want to be a hulking beast of a man.

“You need to...” James started to cough as a green haze entered the pod, “What... fuck... bro please...” He kept coughing, barely noticing his use of the word “bro” and his deepening voice, “Dude, this ain’t cool!”

He watched as his arms were encased. Biceps and triceps exploded from his lean arms, while his forearms grew with muscle. When his arms were released, he could gawk at them in awe.  

“Dude, check it out, my guns are lookin' massive!” James’s eyes widened, “Dude, why do I sound all weird? Not stoked about it, man!” Try as he might, he couldn’t control the new bro lingo that left his mouth.  

And before he could say another word, a mask wrapped around his face and neck. He cried as his face was remodeled. Simultaneously, personal details were added to his physique. Tattoos of some meaning to James were carved into his body. Meanwhile, he was sprayed with a different solution that caused hair to sprout from his abdomen and chest, eventually thickening and forming a dense treasure trail. His arms and legs were not spared, nor were his ass or dick. And with a mechanical screech, the mask finally left his face. His new eyes were dark, topped by thick dark eyebrows. His light brown hair replaced with darker brown. His clean shaven face now adorned with stubble. And his angular face just a bit rounder, with a pair of thick lips. The young man felt his new face and rubbed a hand across his hairy pecs.

“Seriously, dude? No way!” He grumbled, ““Dude, I'm not a bro, change me back, seriously!” James felt tears well up in his eyes. This wasn’t him, he didn’t sound like this. He still had his intelligence, but no one would take him seriously.

But his thoughts were interrupted as the his privates were freed. James’s eyes widened. His dick was never that big, nor did he have foreskin before. He watched in awe as it started expanding and he wrapped his hand around it.

“Whoa, bro, check out the size of that thing!” He started pumping his new cock, “Bro, this is epic! It feels so damn good!” A new mist filled the pod as he continued to jerk off, causing James to scrunch his nose, “Dude, it totally reeks in here, like a locker room or something.” From this point on, that smell would stick to him. He’d always smell like a dirty locker room.

However this did little to deter him as he jerked off. And as he did so, he felt a quick jab in his arm as the contents of a syringe were dumped into him.

“Dude, my head's all fuzzy right now, it's weird.” He moaned as his IQ plummeted and new knowledge filled his brain, “Heh, check this out, dude.” He moaned as he bounced his pecs, “Dude, wait, my brain's acting up. I'm, like, still smart, yeah?” James tried to remember facts that he once memorized but found nothing. His golf skills replaced by workout routines, his adherence to social norms evaporating, and his desire to present himself well replaced with a need to wear tank tops and gym shorts, “Whatever, bro, it doesn't matter. I've got this, and that's what counts.” He winked at his dick and continued to jerk himself off, moving his hand faster and faster, “Fuck yeah, dude!” He moaned as he came, covering himself in cum and falling to the ground. And there he sat, totally spent until the door to the pod opened.

“Hey James,” James looked up and grinned.

"Yo, what's up, campaign manager bro?"

The older man smiled and turned to the judge, “Very good job, James here is perfect. No one will think Selection Day is rigged if even Senator Wagner’s son isn’t safe.”

“Nah, bro, it's Jim, not James.” Jim chuckled, “Like ‘gym’, get it bro?”

“Here Jim, get cleaned up.” The judge said, throwing the man a towel.

After wiping the cum from his hairy abdomen and chest, he got dressed in a tank top and gym shorts. And as he walked through the building, he barely cared at the glances of disgust and the people holding their noses. Nor did he care for the judgmental stares as he scratched his balls and pits, completely oblivious to social norms. When he finally got outside, he smiled when he saw his father’s limo. He quickly walked over and jumped in with a grin.  

“Who are you?” His father asked, scrunching his nose.

Jim grinned and pulled his dad in for a hug, “Yo, dad, it's me, Jim. What's good?"

Several months had passed since then and much changed for Jim. His father quickly disowned him, believing that James hadn’t been honest with the family if this was the outcome of Selection Day. Besides, appealing outcomes was a lengthy process and for Jim’s dad, there could be great political repercussions given his support for the process. So Jim would remain. His life on the golf course and dining in the country club just a memory.

But Jim didn’t mind as he entered his small studio apartment and tossed his gym bag to the ground. He walked over to the dirty mattress in the middle of his room and plopped down, scratching his pits and flipping through his phone.  

“Bro, check it out! Dad crushed the election, fuck yeah!” He cheered with a grin. His grin only widened as he read the text from the cute blond guy from the gym.

Even if he couldn’t celebrate with his family that night, Jim was going to celebrate. And as he texted the guy his address, he could feel the monster in his pants start to grow.

[vintagelasvegas]

Tally Ho / Aladdin / Planet Hollywood

Aladdin opened in 1966 with one of the Strip's first neon-enhanced porte-cochéres, a freestanding sign featuring a revolving, three-sided marquee, topped with an "Aladdin's Lamp," designed and fabricated by YESCO.

Timeline.

Tally Ho ('62-'65)

'61: Edwin S. Lowe announces plans for Tally Ho non-gaming hotel. In the 40s the land was owned by locals Salton, Rose, and Goldberg. (Alexander & Rebecca Salton, founding members of the Las Vegas Jewish community.)

'62: Dec. 24, Opening of Tally Ho, hotel and country club with 9-hole golf course. 322 of the 450 rooms open during “preview opening” in Dec. The hotel was alternately spelled Tally Ho, Tally-Ho, and Tallyho.

'63: Oct. 11, Tally Ho closed. “Ed Lowe made no excuses … admits he was dead wrong about a no gambling luxury hotel.” (Hertz, RJ 10/13/63)

'63: Oct., Norman Kaye and Frank Windsor operate the Tally Ho golf course.

'63: Oct.-Dec., The hotel is sold to Kings Crown Inns of America, represented by Floyd and Beryl Cook, Donald Bolinger (Cooks Brothers Trusts, Indiana). Under lease to operators Edward Nealis, Charles Luftig, and partners, Kings Crown Tally Ho's hotel, lounge, and restaurants reopen in Dec. (Duke, RJ 12/20/63)

'64: Construction of a showroom and casino begins in Fall, misses New Year's Eve opening deadline. The showroom and casino are completed in '65, ultimately never opened. (RJ 4/8/64, RJ 5/18/65)

'65: Nealis heads 18 casino applicants of Tallyho Operating Co. who are unable to get approval from Nevada Gaming Control Board (GCB). In later years Jimmy "the Weasel" Fratianno of the Los Angeles crime family claimed he owned a piece of the Tally Ho and was to run the casino. (AP 2/17/65, RJ 11/25/84, Mob Museum 12/8/2017)

'65: Apr. 1, Tally Ho closed for the second time after King's Crown files suit against Tallyho Operating Co. for unpaid rent. Tenants are evicted, property put in control of the owners.

'65: Dec., Tally Ho bought by Milton Prell (Prell Hotel Corp.) from The Cooks Brothers Trusts.

Aladdin ('66-'97)

'66: Aladdin announced. Drawings for redesigned casino and proposed hotel tower unveiled early in the year. Martin Stern, architect. (RJ 1/2/66, RJ 1/17/66)

'66: Mar. 31, Aladdin opened. Freestanding sign and the Strip's first neon-enhanced porte-cochère by YESCO. Primary owners M. Prell, G. Gilbert, and S. Krystal, all former members of Sahara-Nevada Corp. Comedian Jackie Mason opens the 500-seat Baghdad Theatre.

'66: Dec., Prell stops $75k/month payments on the Aladdin and asks that the price be cut. The trustees agree to reduce the sale price to $5.5M. (Dayton, 4/20/72)

'67: Sep. 26, Milton Prell suffers a debilitating stroke which removes him from Aladdin management. (Dayton, 4/20/72)

'68: Apr., Stockholders of Prell Hotel Corp. vote to merge with Parvin-Dohrmann Co., leading to Parvin-Dohrmann take-over the Aladdin.

'68: Jun., Parvin-Dohrmann operation of Aladdin’s casino approved by GCB. (RJ 6/20/68)

'68: Sep., 28, "after the stock trade was finalized, Milton Prell, by this time paralyzed, was told by the new management he had two weeks to get out of the Aladdin." (McKnight, Alexander. Journal Herald, 4/20/72)

'70: Parvin-Dohrmann adopts the new name Recrion, and strips the firm of all its holdings except for its three Las Vegas hotel-casinos: Aladdin, Fremont, and Stardust.

'71: Oct.-Dec., Recrion announces sale to Sam Diamond, P. Webbe, R. Daly, D. Aikin as Aladdin Hotel Corp. Diamond announces plans for hotel tower.

'71: Entertainment director James Tamer is involved in secretly managing the casino and directing the skim, according to later conviction.

'74: Aladdin investigated by GCB for issuing comps to organized crime figures.

'74: Groundbreaking for the “Tower of Majesty” high-rise, and theater. Lee Linton, architect. Years later in '83, Linton and Aladdin attorney Sorkis Webbe are each convicted of tax fraud in relating to a kickback scheme during the '74 expansion.

'76: Jul., Tower and Theatre for the Performing Arts opened; new porte-cochère by Charles Barnard, Ad-Art; original sign replaced; all financed by Teamsters Central States Pension Fund loan.

'76: Mae Ellen George buys 24% of the hotel, relying on advice of Tamer.

'78: Aug. 3, Detroit federal grand jury indicts Tamer, Aladdin GM James Abraham, Aladdin casino manager Edward Monazym, and Charles Goldfarb (denied a license in ’71) of conspiring to allow hidden owners to exert control over the resort. Owners of the Aladdin at this time are Webbe (34%), Diamond (23%), Mae George (19%), Daly (14%), John Jenkins (8%), and George Morse (2%). (RJ 8/3/78)

'79: Mar. 13, Tamer, Abraham, Monazym, and Goldfarb convicted.

'79: Aug., GCB closes the resort; U.S. District Judge Claiborne opens it hours later, “until a mob-free buyer could be found.” (German, RJ 9/20/2021.)

'80: Jan., Ed Nigro gains a court-sanctioned takeover of the Aladdin after he and Johnny Carson sign an agreement to buy the property for $105M. The deal falls through.

'80: Jul. 10, GCB revokes Aladdin's license and the casino is closed; hotel remains open.

'80: Oct. 1, Casino is reopened after Ed Torres and Wayne Newton buy the Aladdin for $85M.

'82: Jul, Torres buys Newton's shares of the Aladdin.

'84: Feb., Aladdin placed under bankruptcy protection after a Teamsters Pension Fund forces foreclosure.

'85: Jan. 22, Ginji Yasuda buys the Aladdin for $54M; casino closed during Yasuda licensing.

'87: Apr. 1, gaming reopens.

'89: Aug., Yasuda, failing to reveal the source of millions in loans, loses his gaming license; Aladdin forced into bankruptcy.

'89: Sep., Court appointed trustee Jack Fidelman, and WDT Associates (Wm. and Tim Dougall, Larry Bertsch) take over operating the hotel. Aladdin remains in bankruptcy through the early 90s.

'91: Jun., Property title transferred to Bell Atlantic Tricon Leasing Corp when no buyers meet the minimum bid.

'92: Jun., Aladdin emerges from 3-year bankruptcy, control is given to Joe Burt and his JMJ management team on a 12-year lease with Bell Atlantic Tricon.

'94: Dec., Jack Sommer, Signman Sommer Family Trust, buys the Aladdin for $80M. "When the family trust sold a major New York property in '94, Sommer needed to find a real estate investment for the proceeds to avoid substantial capital-gains taxes. The Aladdin was on the market at the time." (Simpson. RJ 8/13/2000.) Other potential buyers included Donald Trump.

'97, Nov 25: Aladdin closed. A new hotel-casino to be built on the 35-acre parcel.

'98, Apr 28: Aladdin tower demolished. Former Tally Ho rooms later demolished; Theater remains.

Aladdin (2000-2007) Planet Hollywood (2007-)

2000: New build of the Aladdin. Mall opens 8/17/00, hotel and casino delayed, opening 8/18/00. Cost: $1.1B.

2001: Sep., Aladdin files for bankruptcy.

2003: Aladdin sold for $635M to OpBiz investment group led by Planet Hollywood CEO Robert Earl. Sale finalized 9/1/2004.

2007: Apr. 17, renamed Planet Hollywood.

2009: Harrah’s Ent. purchases part of the $860M mortgage, takes full ownership in Feb. 2010. Harrah’s later rebranded as Caesars Entertainment.

Photos of Tally Ho | Photos of the Aladdin

Headline photo: Undated, circa '68, from The Magic Sign by Charles Barnard.

Circa Feb.-Mar. 1966: The hotel was open before the casino. Installation of the sign is beginning. Photo: Las Vegas News Bureau.

Mar. 1966: Sequence of photographs showing YESCO’s revolving, three-sided Aladdin pylon structure being pieced together by dual cranes ahead of their opening on the 31st. Ad-Art collection, from Charles Barnard’s The Magic Sign.

Undated, Las Vegas News Bureau.

3/31/66 – Opening night. Four men holding scissors are Bill Braire, Las Vegas Mayor Oran Gragson, Milton Prell, Las Vegas Sun Publisher Hank Greenspun. Las Vegas News Bureau, LVCVA Archive.

“Aladdin Casino was the first Las Vegas hotel to integrate major sign elements and neon into its porte-cochère. Sign modules were incised into the leading edge of the projecting canopy and wrap-around grids of incandescent lamps followed these contours back to the entry.” - Charles Barnard, The Magic Sign. Photo: Las Vegas News Bureau.

Postcard c. '66-'68

Showgirls at the Aladdin, 1966. Las Vegas News Bureau.

Timeline sources.

Previous landowners: C.D. Baker Map of Las Vegas Valley ’40; Alexander Salton. UNLV Special Collections & Archives.

Tally Ho: Tallyho Preview Attracts 3500. Review-Journal, 12/28/62; Tallyho Hotel Closes. Review-Journal, 10/11/63 p1; Murray Hertz. Future of Tallyho Raises Questions. Review-Journal, 10/13/63; Gordon Kent. Tally-Ho Hotel Sold. Review-Journal, 11/1/63; Forrest Duke. New Tallyho Sale Deal. Review-Journal, 12/20/63; Tallyho Plans $1 Million Show. Review-Journal, 4/8/64; Associated Press. Gaming Board Refuses Tallyho Casino License. Review-Journal, 2/17/65 p1; G. Kent, F. Duke. Strip Hotel Closes. Review-Journal, 4/1/65 p1; Tallyho Sues Owners. Review-Journal, 5/18/65 p1.

Tally Ho and Aladdin sales covered in a series by Keith McKnight and Andrew Alexander for The Journal Herald, Dayton OH. Welsh confirmed with crime figures. Journal Herald, 4/20/72; Firm with crime ties linked to casino deal. Journal Herald, 4/21/72.

Aladdin: Associated Press. Gamers Approve. Review-Journal, 6/20/68 p1; Associated Press. Firm adopts new name: Recrion Corp. Reno Gazette Journal, 12/14/70; Lou Miller. Aladdin Hotel sold. Review-Journal, 11/8/71; Jerry Ralya. New Aladdin Corporation seeks license. Review-Journal, 12/29/71; Aladdin execs indicted. Review-Journal, 8/3/78; AP. Las Vegas architect sentenced to prison. Review-Journal, 3/8/83; AP. Webbe convicted. Review-Journal, 6/19/83; Jane Ann Morrison. LV Casinos Targeted in Money Laundering. Review-Journal, 11/25/84; Aladdin Hotel's history spans 30 years. Review-Journal, 1/5/94 p3; Dave Palermo. Aladdin Hotel finally sells. Review-Journal, 12/9/94 p1; History. Review-Journal, 11/23/97 p14; Jeff Simpson. Aladdin owner faces music. Review-Journal, 8/13/2000; Chronology of the Aladdin hotel-casino. Las Vegas Sun, 8/18/2000. John L. Smith. Sharks in the Desert. Barricade Books, 2005; David Schwartz. Jimmy The Weasel Fratianno. themobmuseum.org, 12/8/2017; Jeff German. The Genie in the Lamp, and Close the Place Down. Review-Journal, 9/20/2021.

[midnight-mourning]

Sneaky Santa

❄️❄️Midnight's DCA December Day 10❄️❄️

cooked this up last night for y'all, but waited to post to make sure it was actually coherent lmao, anywho, hope you enjoy! Edit: reviewed this morning and chat 2 am midnight was cookinggg

Prompt: ok ok i have a pretty vague idea that i really love. y/n would be a burglar who breaks into the pizzaplex on christmas eve/day (cos no one wants to work at christmas time, so there should be minimal security, right?..). but they quickly sense they are not alone and dca interaction ensues :') i feel like you could go different ways with this, full chase sequence, or just witty banter with the dca. you can play with around the y/n's motives for committing theft/breaking in. i'd love to see what you cook up :D

Word Count: 2630

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

The side door opens with a click, and as it creaks ajar, you can't help the grin that splits your face. Success, and after 15 minutes of fumbling in the cold, you're more than happy to finally get inside. And get to work, for that matter. 

You shove your kit back into your pocket, and adjust your mask. Slinking inside, it's as quiet and dead as you hoped. Even the cameras, which you'd think they'd bother to power on for this very reason, don't seem to be active. All the better for you, really. 

Still, you proceed with caution, while the place is more than dead in terms of human staff, there are some bots lingering about. From the last time you were in here you think they were just called S.T.A.F.F. bots? Doesn't matter, you didn't need to take any chances. 

You keep to the shadowy parts of the building, making your way to your first stop; Chica's gift shop. You make quick work, grabbing the limited edition kids jewelry set, and a plush or two for good measure. You make similar stops throughout, a makeup set and costume from Roxy's, a gator golf mini club set, a microphone signed by Freddy himself. Not to mention again, anything else you can grab your hands on. 

You wanted this trip to count, if you were going to be doing something illegal, might as well go all out, yeah? 

You won't deny, it had been a bit of an inner conflict for you at first. You had morals, stealing was wrong and all that jazz. However, stealing from a multi-million dollar corporation who wouldn't even notice the teeny-tiny little dent you've made in their merchandise? Yes, still wrong, but surely not nearly as bad. At least, that's what you tell yourself. 

You glance briefly at the list in your hand, and the map in the other, as you chow down on a cupcake you swiped earlier. You're sitting on a railing overlooking the atrium, the area quiet enough to not draw any attention. Though, still so far so good from what you've been able to tell.

None of the main attractions have been out and about, and if you had to guess, they were either doing their own thing in their rooms—which, an odd but endearing thought to have—or they were simply powered down to conserve energy over the holidays. Regardless, you're able to check off the locations on your map, and the items on your list in an easy peace. 

As luck would have it, you're well ahead of schedule. Only an hour or so in and you're already down to your last location. Circled in red marker and starred; Lucky Stars Gift Shop. 

You'd saved it for last because it was one of the trickier ones to get to. But, with how easy the rest of the night has been, you'd argue it's well worth the risk at this point. While your haul was more than enough, you knew that if you could score there, you'd be set. 

So, finishing your cupcake with a wipe of your shirt sleeve, your off. 

When you arrive, much like all the other locations, the door is thankfully unlocked. You slip inside, and set to work. You were looking once more for a specific item in particular, in this case as set of pajamas. Smalls, along with a pair of matching nightlights if you could find them. 

You find the pjs soon enough, stuffing them in with the rest of your haul. It was starting to get heavy now, and you truly looked the part of a burglar with your big canvas sack. To be fair, it wasn't like you could fit all this in your backpack. Even though you'd foolishly considered it for a brief moment. 

The nightlights are a harder find, not anywhere within easy sight among the toys and stuffies scattered throughout the darkened shop. To be safe though, you swipe a few of those as well. 

You finally spot your prize while doing a sweep over the entire place, both set up on a high shelf behind the counter. You puff out your cheeks, of course they just had to be there of all places.

You shake your head, no matter. You weren't leaving without those nightlights. Especially after catching the sight of the price when trying to order online. Just for merch for the Daycare Attendant of all things. 

Setting down your bag, you start to climb onto the counter, swaying slightly in your rush. You lean over the gap behind the counter and the shelf, finding that you just barely can't reach.

You grit your teeth, and lean further, doing your best to keep your feet steady. When your hand makes contact with a box, you internally cheer. Quickly, you grip it, and the other while you're at it. 

You struggle to contain your excitement, giggling to yourself as you step fully back onto the counter with your goods. 

"Well now, what do we have here?"

"Something of a thief, by the looks of it." The voice turns darker, chuckling. "And not a very clever one, at that."

You freeze then, but keep calm. You were too close now. You weren't expecting any guards at this point, but certainly you could handle these two, you've come too far to not try, anyway. 

You turn, tone smooth. "Well, that's not very nice. I think I've been doing pretty good so far—" The words die on your tongue when you realize that the person behind you are in fact, one bot. One of the very bots that strongly resembled the ceramic copies in your hands.

The blue and white animatronic tilts his head at you, red eyes narrowed. Moon, from what you already know.

"You were saying?" He asks. 

Initial shock gone, you shake your head, huffing as you hop down from the counter. "I believe I've done pretty well so far, not to toot my own horn or anything. And with these, I'll be more than happy to get out of your hair. Or, whatever the equivalent is for you, I suppose." You stuff the nightlights in your bag, head held high. 

"Is that so? You'll just walk on out of here, without a bit of confrontation or trouble?" The naptime attendant sounds more amused than anything, so you'll keep trying your luck. 

You shrug. "Well yes, I really would rather not be a burden on you. Would hate to be the cause of disruption so close to the holidays. Consider it a gesture of the heart." You put your hand to your chest, bowing slightly. 

"Gesture of the heart—" Moon laughs then, hard. 

You take the chance to slip by him, crossing your arms as you lean against a clothes rack. "Something the matter? I'll have you know I mean what I say, especially to a pretty face."

"A pretty, pretty face?" He asks between chuckles. The bot pretends to wipe a tear. "My, you're a curious little thief aren't you?"

You wink. "I like to keep things exciting. No need for unnecessary tension and all that, you know? And if I wasn't on the job, well, I'd be using more than just my words, let's say that."

You're almost to the door now, hand ghosting over the handle. If you can get a head start, you'll surely make it. Unfortunately, you're not so lucky. 

"Well, I'm afraid to disappoint, but I believe tension is all I have to offer, you Star. I hope you'll understand."

You keep your eyes locked on each other for a moment more. Then, as he launches toward you, you rip open the door, running out into the light again. 

As you're running, you hear a voice call out behind you. "What? You're not going to try to woo me too? Am I good enough for you, Sunshine?"

"Of course you are!" You say back. "I just figured a change of scenery would do us some good, is all."

You find you have no other choice but to enter the Daycare itself. Certainly not your favorite option, but you can hear the playtime attendant gaining on your fast. You'll have to fake him out in here and hope for the best. 

He chuckles. "How kind of you! So tell me, what's convinced you this was a good idea, friend? You have me oh so curious."

"Ah, I wouldn't want to bore you with all the details." You wave your hand, then jump to climb one of the playset walls. "That's much less fun. Instead, tell me about yourself? You come here often?"

You hear him close behind, just missing at swiping your leg in his grasp. "Well, I live here, so as it would turn out, yes! You seem too familiar with the layout yourself, Starshine."

"What makes you think that?" You scoff. Though, you can't say he's wrong, you're just hoping the mask is enough to keep your identity a secret. Would hate to be banned now. 

You stare down at him, head in your hands as Sun stares up at you, rays flicking and eyes narrowed. "We got a peak at your little collection. You're well aware of what's the priciest items here! That's something that takes time, and planning."

"Aw, why thank you! If I wasn't preoccupied, I would return that compliment with more than just verbal appreciation."

He leans against the playset, gaze focused on you. "You could always try."

You grin, and for the briefest of seconds consider the offer, then shake your head. 

"Ah, I would. But I've got no guarantees it won't turn sour, in the end." You tsk drearily. "I'm afraid our love must stay as it is. Treasured from afar in secrecy. Surely you understand, no?"

 Sun nods, hand going to his faceplate just as dramatically. "Oh course, how foolish of me to consider such. If only—Hey! That's cheating!"

You snicker to yourself as you race across the playset. "I'm sorry, my dear! But time is of the essence. Perhaps another time I can listen to your sweet nothings—"

You slip, foot catching the wrong side of the plastic bridge. Your eyes widen as you begin to fall, then squeeze shut as you brace for impact. 

It doesn't come, instead, you find yourself in a reassuring grip. Peeking an eye open, you find Sun staring down at you, concern evident in his eyes. 

Your breathing is heavy as you wait for him to do something, anything. 

"I know those eyes." He says in the quiet. "It's you."

Ah, shit. 

In a state of utter defeat, and total shock, you wind up bound in a spare set of jump ropes, sat in one of the tiny chairs for good measure. 

Meanwhile, Sun is pacing the back and forth in front of you, speaking in a one-sided conversation to his counterpart. 

"But why, surely there's no reason for them to have been—"

"I know, I know. It's wrong, but that doesn't, no, no you're right."

"What if we, it might work. I just don't want to—" He turns to stare at you, then shakes his head.

You sigh. This blows. You'd spent so long planning this out, and now you're about to lose everything. Unless, you can convince them that you really meant no major harm. 

"Listen. I know this looks, bad. But I can explain!"

The bot turns to you then, curious, but suspicious. You don't blame him. 

Your head hangs low, guilt sinking in in that moment. "Look, money's tight. Really tight. Why do you think I come here to get daycare services? It's dirt cheap, you know. And, and the kids were just so excited for Christmas this year, I saw an opportunity and I just,"—You shake your head—"I'm not proud, at all. I just, wanted to give them something nice, you know? That's the honest truth. So, before you turn me in, please, just give me a chance. You can take everything back, but please let me walk out of here tonight. I, I won't come back, I'll find other arrangements, just please, please don't tell anyone about this."

You wait for him to start laughing at you, you expect it even. Even if it was the truth, it was still a ridiculous notion. All this for the sake of some toys? God, imagine what the cops are going to say when the get a load of this—

The jump ropes keeping you tied up suddenly loosen. 

Looking up, you see Sun's gaze is on you, unreadable in that moment. Then, he hands you your sack, and your backpack, and points to the door. 

"I, you're, you're letting me... really?" You're more than surprised, you're flabbergasted. 

He nods, helping you to stand. "I believe you, we both do. We've seen how much your care for them, and we understand. To a point, that is. Now hurry along, before it gets too late."

"I, I don't know what to say..."

Sun chuckles. "I think you'll be better off not worrying about your words for once, Sunbeam."

"Still, I just,"—you shake your head, and in a brief moment of unthinking, wrap your arms around the bot in a hug—"I mean it, thank you."

He stiffens, but returns the gesture. 

You pull away after a moment, slinging your bags back over your shoulders. "You know, if I'm not banned, we should um, do this again sometime. In a more, legal setting."

"O-oh?"

You smirk. "Yeah. What? I told you, I mean what I say."

You turn then, heading for the door before they change their mind. Though based on Sun's last words to you, you doubt that.

"We'd like that!" He calls, and for some reason, the sincerity of it makes you blush under your mask. 

Sure enough, when you discover that Freddy Fazbear's Pizza Plex is hiring, in Superstar Daycare no less, you find yourself easily able to fulfill that promise. 

"Almost ready for naptime, Starshine?" Sun asks as he comes up to where you stand leaning against the security desk.

You nod. "I am, but are you?"

"What makes you say that?" He asks, tone anything but innocent.

You tsk. "You've not been subtle today, Sunny. I can tell when someone wants to kiss me, it's my sixth sense, so to say."

"Just like how lock picking, bribery, pick-pocketing, and seduction~ are also your sixth sense?" He asks, leaning down to your height.

Your cheeks heat up, and you cough. "Of course."

Sun chuckles, closing the gap between the two of you with a brief peck. You are on the clock, after all. 

When he pulls away, flicking the lights off, you find Moon staring down at you with that same look. 

You huff, smile on your lips. "Let me guess, you want a turn now too?"

"Of course not." His hand cups your face with a tsk. "Could you think so little of me?"

You grin as he bends down further.

He shakes his head slightly, "No, I think I'll take a bit more than just one simple kiss."

"One not good enough for you?" You question. 

"Not for all the trouble you've been. I think at least three kisses are in order, to make up for it, don't you?"

Your arms wrap around his neck with a giggle. "Well, I certainly won't protest."

You meet somewhere in the middle, and just like you always do these days, find yourself grateful to your previous self for the, really, quite stupid idea of trying to break into the plex the night of Christmas Eve. 

Because sometimes bad ideas can have good outcomes, and this was a clear sign of that. 

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

Thank you for the request @soupdweller!! Was a very fun little idea that I MAY have gotten carried away with hehe (i see the word banter and HAVE to go all out yk?), hope you had as much fun as I did :)

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[thebopplereffect]

His pact weapon is a power drill and when he casts vicious mockery he says “I’m not mad, just disappointed”

Y’all can show up to the session with your serious characters that have thought out motivations and novel length backstories and complex interpersonal relationships…meanwhile I’m here like hey guys this is Brad the Rad Dad, he’s the grillmaster supreme in a warlock pact with Home Depot

[rafesgoldrings]

Oh girl my request rn is more poly rafe kelce and topper! Whether it be fluff or some spicy spicy smut. Like their day to day life or how they take turns taking her out on dates and then all come back and treat her good 🥵

They’re backkkk🤭 I honestly missed them sm and had so much fun writing for them. I hope you guys enjoy it🫶🏻

Warnings: not proof read, light degradation, Rafe calls reader a pretty bitch one time, reader is called a slut like twice

So your day to day life is actually fairly normal, there’s still lots of flirting and subtle touches but for the most part you guys just hang out. You’ll go shopping or go with them to the gym, go out on the boat before grabbing dinner, hang out and watch a movie or attempt to play video games with them (which always ends in a (“Oh my god Y/N just put the controller down and come sit”), nothing too crazy. But the dates? The dates are a complete different story.

They have a schedule, it was the only way to ensure that each of them were getting equal alone time with you to avoid jealousy and fights. It usually stayed pretty consistent but did change occasionally if one of your boys has a special request or something happened. Monday is Toppers day, Wednesday is Kelces, and Friday is Rafes, the ones between that were ones for you to have the day to yourself or for you all to hang out as a group.

Topper usually kept it pretty casual, sweet, but casual with something like a picnic or lunch at the country club. Beach dates were your favorite, just enjoying the sounds of the waves crashing against the shore while you rested in the others arms, the soft breeze caressing your skin. He also liked to go shopping for things, clothes, jewelry, books, art supplies, whatever you had an interest in that day, he obviously would pay for it all. Even telling you not to bring any money because ‘pretty girls don’t pay for themselves’. Boat dates are another common thing for the two of you, he’d bring your favorite blanket and sweater of his with him for when you inevitably got cold once the sun started to set. He’d of course go somewhere secluded so he could pull your bikini off and fuck you while the sun hit you, the possibility of getting caught make it so much hotter than normal.

Kelce was more of the sporty/stay in date type. He loved to take you golfing, even if all you did was look pretty and tease him by bending over in the short little skirt he bought you, and then treat you to a nice candlelit dinner. Almost always preferred it near the water too, said it was more romantic when your skin was illuminated by the soft flame and it was just the two of you and the soft waves. But on days he didn’t feel like going out, he’d set up a blanket fort in the living room stocked with ALL of your favorite snacks and drinks. He’d put the little fairy lights inside of it like the one he remembered you showing him a while ago, put an air mattress inside with tons of pillows and soft blankets, light up your favorite scented candle, make sure it was as romantic and cozy as possible. He’d put on some of your favorite movies or attempt to teach you to play the games he liked, but it almost always ended with your clothes scattered on the floor. Waking up the next morning with your limbs intertwined and bare skin sticking to each other from the small layer of sweat that formed.

Rafe, as we all expected, is the fancy one. He’s buying you dresses to match his suit, diamond earrings, necklaces, rings, bracelets, shoes, just making sure you’re taken care of before the date even happens. He’d take you to the nicest restaurants, go on shopping sprees where you picked out whatever you wanted (yes that includes any lingerie shops you stumble across), go out on the yacht and stop at the local yacht club for dinner, even fly you out in the private jet somewhere for the day. He had the money and he would happily spend it all on you if it made you happy. He rarely ever stayed in on his nights unless you asked, if he did there wasn’t much going on other than him making it his goal to fuck you on every surface in the house. He was always horny around you, you were just so pretty and got his cock hard immediately. Half the time he couldn’t even wait until you were home before he was pulling his range rover to he side of the road and fucking you in the backseat, or over the hood of it, or making you ride him in the drivers sit so your tits were bouncing in his face.

They all took care of you in their own way, sexually and non sexually, but together? Together the pleasure tripled, every inch of your skin being touched, your brain completely shut off from their hands on you and their cocks burying themselves in your pretty holes. Rafe usually teasing you for it with a little degrading comment like ‘pretty bitch can’t even concentrate on anything but being a slut’. Top usually went for a mix of the two, he was usually the one teasing you while also encouraging you to keep going ‘Such a desperate slut for us huh baby? But you’re doing so good, so pretty too, just a little more pretty girl’. Kelce was almost always the one giving you praise unless he was pissed or felt like he had something to prove, ‘God princess, so pretty. This pussy is so pretty too, doing so so good. I know it hurts but you can do it, you’re made for us so I know you can baby. That’s it, good girl baby’.

The mix of praise and degradation from each one making your head spin and bringing you closer to your orgasm until you snapped, making a giant mess all over whoever was inside you at the time. Nipples being pulled and pinched and sucked, clit being spit on and rubbed until you were crying out that it was too much, each one taking a turn tasting you and trying to push their cum inside you deeper than the last. It was like their version of a group date, who could make you feel the best, who could cum the most, who made you cum the most. It was your thing and none of you would change that, you were theirs and they were yours.

Either way, you’d never go a day without being taken care of and spoiled. Even without the physical contact your phone would be blowing up with texts from each of them. Complements, pet names, voice messages, pictures, anything you could think of they were doing to ensure you were thinking about them always and knew they were thinking about you. Honestly convinced they have a separate group chat just to gush about you outside of the normal one where they try to one up each other

[nikethestatue]

Not Another Hallmark Christmas Story

TW: PLEASE REMEMBER THAT THIS IS A DARK STORY. It contains stalking, gaslighting, mental and emotional abuse and sexual assault.

Happy Birthday @elrieldreamer Have an awesome day!

Chapter 3

‘Tis was the night…

I was surprised when she came to the office on Monday. I figured she’d take a day off to mope and question her life choices. I figured she’d wonder if she was sexually assaulted. I figured she’d wrestle with the knowledge that she was and then, she’d question herself, and wonder why she didn’t hate it. 

And yes, I am the first one to admit that I sexually assaulted her. And I know that she was plagued by doubts and questioned everything that she knew about herself. 

I am not a rapist. For the most part, I like women. I very much like smart women, who are curious about the world and who can hold an interesting conversation. I am a fan of women who have a sense of humour, who can surprise me with their knowledge, and who are current on all world affairs, and who don’t showcase their lives on Instagram. I like women who have some confidence, but who aren’t overly confident. And most of all, I like women who are naturally submissive and yearn to be dominated without knowing that they do. I am not a dom, and I am not a rapist. I like to be in control. And I like to watch a woman yield to me, accept my control over her, and ultimately, submit. 

And there are so very few women out there who fit the bill. 

I tried. G-d knows I tried. 

I've never been in a relationship that lasted longer than a few months. Sometimes, it was only a few days. The women inevitably disappointed. I didn’t know exactly what I was looking for and who’d fit the bill–trial and error, they say. I tried many. And erred with all of them. They all thought that it was a game that I dabbled in. And that if they played along, I’d eventually get it out of my system and the next step would be a ‘normal’ life. An engagement ring. A lavish wedding. A penthouse. A suburban estate. 2.7 children. A golf club membership. Lunches. Charities. Galleries.

None understood that this is who I am. I am not a guy who likes rough sex. I am not abnormal either. I don’t have a kink to work through. I don’t get any joy in hurting females. I simply know what I want and what I desire, I get. 

What I’ve wanted from the moment I laid eyes on her was my Elain.

I know that I would’ve noticed her regardless of circumstances, because to me, she was unmissable. She was striking and so quiet and uncomfortable.

Our building has a cafeteria, however, most of us eat in the break room on our floor. I remember the day I saw her very clearly. It wasn’t some throwaway moment in my life. It is etched in my mind with crystal clarity. Because somehow, I knew that it was important. When I saw her, it was important to me. 

In fact, I heard her first. Isaac Hale, the skinny nerd on the team, was solving the New York Times crossword puzzle at the table, his lunch forgotten. Others were eating, or milling around and chatting. I knew that some of these people would be on my team, so I figured that I’d make an appearance and have them get used to me and my presence, though I wasn’t going to make any formal introductions just yet. Let them stew. Let them worry. I have that effect on people–I make them nervous. 

I was grabbing a water from the fridge, when I overheard Isaac’s exasperated moan, 

“Ruling family of Monaco?” 

Before I could turn around and see what the hell he was talking about, I heard a small, quiet voice say ‘Grimaldi’. 

“What?” Isaac called out, confused. I looked out at the break room and heard again, 

“The ruling family of the Principality of Monaco are the Grimaldis.”

Isaac furiously scribbled something in the newspaper and cried out ‘yeah they are! Thanks, El!’’

El.

El?

I craned my neck slightly to see who the elusive ‘El’ was, and finally spotted a lonesome figure who was sitting by the window, reading a Kindle, drinking Seltzer water, a half eaten salad in front of her, which clearly didn’t hold her attention. There were two guys at the same table–I didn’t know their names–but they clearly wanted to be there, and were peacocking like two douchenozzles in front of her. She paid them no heed. In fact, before I could even approach her to have a better look, she got up swiftly from her chair, grabbed her half-eaten salad and offered the two men a strained, close-mouthed smile, and hurried away from the table.

I stilled. I stood there, dumbfounded, because I was brought to my knees by her beauty. 

I stood there, watching the most breathtaking woman walk towards me, her round hips swaying sexily, her full, glorious tits bouncing beneath a cobalt-blue silk blouse. She wore a slightly flared pleated skirt and nude pantyhose, her feet clad in less than sensible nude pumps. 

Her cheeks were very pink. She was uncomfortable. Long golden brown hair was tied into a neat, appropriate bun. 

She scurried by me, without lifting her eyes, clutching the tablet to her chest. She passed by me like I didn’t exist. And I know that I am hard to miss–I am tall and I take up a lot of space. I wore a black suit too, hovering around everything like a dark cloud, gobbling up space. I liked that. I also knew that my appearance piqued the attention of many women. Should I sound conceited? I am handsome. I think it’s dumb to pretend that I am not, and not use it to my advantage. I am handsome, tall and in good shape. It was simply unfathomable that she wouldn't pay attention to me…that she wouldn’t notice me. She didn’t though. She just tiptoed by, ignoring me like I was a piece of furniture. 

And that was that.

Because she was so freaking oblivious to everything, I allowed myself the opportunity to watch her for a few days. She never noticed it. They say that women can always sense predators, but either she didn’t consider me one, or her danger radar was at zero. I wasn’t sure what the deal was. 

But she came in early every day, arriving by train, without coffee, and not wearing sensible shoes. She dressed well–long camel coats, a Burberry scarf, expensive Oxfords, which she exchanged for pumps when she was in the office. Tuckernut dresses–not too outrageous, but not cheap either. I knew how much she made–well into the low six figures–and that explained how she could afford the wardrobe. She didn’t drink Starbucks. She avoided it and would sometimes wrinkle her nose when someone suggested that she come and get Starbies with them. It was amusing. No, she drank an Italian espresso from a cafe on the ground floor. At the bar, like a true Italian. She slammed it back, then got a cappuccino to go and always an almond cornetto. 

She was a diligent worker, but she still had much to learn. I knew that this was her first job out of Northwestern. She obviously was very intelligent, but experience is experience, and she didn’t have much of it. So she made mistakes and when she realised it, I could see that she was frustrated. She was clearly a perfectionist. 

I’d made my move the week that I first saw her.

There were people in the break room, eating free doughnuts that I brought, gathered by the coffee machine. Pedantically, someone announced that they wanted Starbucks instead of the break room coffee. I saw my way in and said clearly ‘I am buying’. That didn’t even make her look up from her laptop. As if she didn’t hear my voice, and an offer of a free coffee didn’t matter to her. Frustrated, I bumped into her, on purpose obviously, caging her in with my body, as I made a show of reaching for the sugar cubes that were kept in the cupboard above. I didn’t touch her, but I stood as close as possible to her, pulling her scent into my lungs. I wasn’t sure what the perfume was, but she smelled of jasmine. When I looked down, I noticed delicate golden strands within the mass of her light brown hair. Her hair was natural–she didn’t colour it. Despite my proximity, she ducked under my arm, evading me like I wasn’t there. How was this possible? She didn’t even glance up.

As the rest of the team headed out of the break room, I actually called out and asked, “Joining us?”

She didn’t look up, busy on her phone and then haughtily said, “no thank you. I don’t drink that.”

That. The offer was apparently offensive to her. 

I don’t know, I suppose it made me angry. I am well aware that my reaction was irrational, but I couldn’t understand how she didn’t bother looking at me. How my presence didn’t matter to her. How my voice didn’t interest her. Nothing about me seemed to appeal to her.

For whatever odd reason, it felt like a rejection.

Looking back now, I realise that it’s irrational. She didn’t even know who I was back then. But in the moment, it felt like she walked away from me when I tried to open up to her. I was there for her–I wanted to get to know her better, I wanted her interest. 

So I spent $138 bucks on coffee for the team that day and she didn’t even come along. 

The only plausible reason that I could think of that explained her disinterest was that she was in a relationship, and she was in love with another man.

Which, truthfully, was unacceptable.

I didn’t even consider it as a possibility, until I spotted her looking at her phone in the hallway later that day. She was smiling at whatever she was looking at, and had a doe eyed look of love on her face. I didn’t know what to do with myself then. It was like an anvil was pounding inside my head, blasting me with unwanted thoughts: she is with someone. She is in love with him. They’ll be getting married. She belongs to another man. She is smart, beautiful and successful, why would she be single?

No. This was unacceptable. No. No.

I was consumed by jealousy and resentment. And for once, at a loss at what to do. 

If she was involved with someone, I wasn’t sure what I’d do.

But just in a nick of time, I stopped myself and ordered my brain to think rationally. Difficult, under the circumstances, but not impossible. 

I didn’t stop. I didn’t even slow down. I walked, softly, like I always did, and glanced at her phone. I expected a text message from someone named ‘Mike’ or ‘Boyfriend’ or something silly like that. Instead, to my immense relief, there was an ugly flat-faced dog staring at me. It was a photo of a dog–bulldog? Pug? Frenchie? I wasn’t sure. I was too elated.

I just walked past her, grinning to myself.

It was just a stupid dog.

But boy, would I have given anything to have her phone light up with my name.

Was that the day I became obsessed?

I can’t be sure now, but I do know that this was the day when instead of driving home, I took the Blue Line, standing on the other side of the car and watched her. I mean, clearly I was doing it for her own protection. It was after 7pm, the office crowd was thinning, and this was a beautiful woman with an expensive bag and $500 dollar shoes. She was as oblivious, it seemed, as she was in the office, her nose buried in her Kindle. For the love of god, she read a lot. I wonder what it was that was keeping her attention like that? Romantasy? A Court of Thorns and Roses? The Fourth Wing? Zodiac Academy? 

My brother Cassian loves all that shit and is active on some Romantasy Discord! no less. Pretending to be a woman, I think. He also has some strong opinions about ‘ships’ - yes, he needed to explain all that to me, and once he did, I was the unfortunate springboard for his ramblings. Apparently, he was and still is into ‘Elriel’, which is not something I needed to dig deeper into. But I think it was a fantasy couple? I am not sure. But Elain seemed to be just as transfixed by her Kindle as my brother was by his. 

I watched her and saw how she smiled softly to herself from time to time. I watched her cheeks grow pink. I watched her tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. 

That was my job.

I wanted to know what page she was on, so I could read it and do that to her.

I wanted her to bite her lower lip like that, and I wanted to tuck her hair away from her face, because she was watching me. Because I was making her feel squirmy and shy. Not some beefy winged Fae warrior.

I followed her discreetly. If you want to trail someone, but look nonchalant doing it, buy yourself a cup of coffee–that puts people at ease. It’s not like a stalker would be drinking coffee or anything absurd like that! 

She stopped by Smoke Daddy and picked up a prepared bag, and fuck did I want a brisket sandwich at that moment! It would’ve been nice to go home with her, have a nice BBQ dinner, watch some news, sports, kiss, drink a couple of beers and then fuck like animals on the rug, before going to bed and falling asleep in each other’s arms. 

I had trailed her for the next ten days.

It became a routine. I got her home safe and sound, making sure that no one bothered her.

She lived in an old Chicago brown brick three-story building, but it was newly refurbished and obviously nice inside. At least it had a security system! Phew. I’d cut a bitch if it didn’t.

She didn’t have much of a social life, but I couldn’t blame her because we worked 10-12 hour days 5 days a week. And then I saw her answering emails and submitting reports until 10pm almost daily. 

A couple of times, even though she hadn’t ‘met’ me, I sent her stern instructions not to work on Friday nights or weekends. I think that scared her. Good. She should know who the boss was.

She didn’t work out, she didn’t do pilates, she didn’t run. 

She didn’t cook much either. There was a cheapish all-you-can-eat sushi place on Division that she favoured, but because she ate alone, she sat at the sushi bar. I followed her there and watched her. She played on her phone and watched dog videos on IG. Sometimes, she cried when she watched them. I wondered what made her so sad. 

She was a quiet, sad and lonely girl. For some reason, it didn’t surprise me.

The dog’s name is Chapo. He looks like a Chapo, if I am being honest. He is what is often described as ‘thicc’. A large brown-tan Frenchie, who belongs to Elain’s sister. 

By the time I’d ‘met’ Chapo, following Elain and inserting myself into her life, while she had no idea and didn’t know that she was being observed, became somewhat of an addiction. I loved it. It was secret and subversive and it gave me pleasure. Perhaps, looking back at it now, it made me feel a little less lonely. Even though I only observed her, it gave me purpose in my own life. It offered me companionship, however one-sided it was. For once, I had something better to do than worry about work. Besides, this solitary activity, which was exclusively mine, suited my character. I didn’t get bored of her boring life. It was actually kind of peaceful.

I was pleased to find that Elain was desperately single. 

Despite her prettiness, she came off as shy, but also kind of standoffish. When the weekend came, I pondered whether I should take a break from my spying, but I was not going to rest until I was assured that she didn’t have a man. Technically, it was still possible. They might have had a ‘weekend hookup’ type of a relationship. It wasn't unheard of. 

I wasn’t sure what to expect, because there was no routine on the weekend and I feared that I’d end up sitting in my car for the whole day, and she wouldn’t even come out. She seemed like a homebody type, so it was highly likely that that would happen. 

But see, the gods were in my favour.

The fact that she left the house right after I came over, following an early gym session, just cemented my belief in that this was sanctioned. That she belonged to me. That I meant to guard her and protect her and then make her mine. This wasn’t a fluke. 

When I saw her that Saturday morning, wearing jeans and a corduroy jacket, all I could do was smile. It’s like she sensed me. Like she wanted me to see her. 

She went to the bakery, got herself coffee and a whole bag of pastries–this girl was not shy about cake and pastry consumption, if I may say so myself–and then headed out. 

She was pretty oblivious to her surroundings as always, and to add to her usual ding-a-ling attitude, she had her earbuds in. Was it scary that she had no concept of her surroundings? Absolutely. Good thing, then, that she had me.

I met Chapo that very day. 

Elain and her sister met in a dog park, and chunky Chapo got a pup cup and a dog cookie. That explained the bakery bag–Elain also handed a croissant to her sister. Chapo was running around with other dogs and I heard Elain call him over as ‘Chapi’, worrying that he’d get hurt. He stood his own though, rolling around, wrestling with other dogs, and being absolutely incapable of catching a ball that Elain and her sister were tossing at him. If I am being objective, ‘Chapi’ wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, because how are you a dog and you can’t catch a ball? And then, he almost blew my cover too. I was sitting on a bench, pretending like one of the dogs was mine, and staying out of sight, until he missed his ball yet again, and it rolled towards me. Seriously, this was like the 12th time he completely failed at catching it. So he trotted towards me, his gait a bit sideways, then stopped and earnestly looked into my eyes. His big bat ears flexed and then he ‘smiled’ a huge smile at me, proud of his crooked little teeth. Before Miss Oblivious could see me, I threw the ball away and he ran after it. It’s not like she even knew who I was, because god forbid she’d pay attention and actually have any idea who her boss was, but still, better safe than sorry. 

I watched Chapo run back, with his ball finally firmly in his possession, acting like he’s been catching it all day long. Elain hefted him in her arms and rocked him like a baby, covering him with kisses. 

I’ve never been jealous of a dog, even Valentino’s pugs or the Queen’s corgis, but that day, I was jealous of Chapo the Frenchie. I also told myself that when I kissed her, she better wash her face and mouth prior. And then, as I watched her bounce Chapo on her hip, I decided then and there that she would be the mother of my children.

It was 6:37am and I entered the cafe in our office building. It was moderately busy, but I knew that Elain would be there by now. I wasn’t wrong. She was standing by the bar, and I watched the barista set an espresso in front of her. I sidled over to the bar, kind of muscling people out of my way. I wanted to see if she’d notice me now? 

‘An espresso,’ I ordered, leaning over the polished wood, pretending to check my phone.

Elain’s big brown eyes slipped over my body, her expression disinterested and absent. She tipped her tiny cup back, grabbed her bag, and the cappuccino and left with a brief ‘thanks!’ to the barista.

So much for me hoping that I’d make an impression. 

It was that day when I summoned her to my office for the first time.

She was nervous. Surprised. Unsure of herself.

I made her feel special because I wanted to build a rapport with her. I wanted her to trust me. I wanted her to come to depend on me. 

She was quiet and tense, and I could see that she didn’t know what to say to me, but I wanted to see what she’d think of on her feet. I thought that her question about how to succeed in the company was a good one. And then, to my inner sadistic delight, she absolutely hated being corrected. And I was fucking ruthless. I don’t feel bad about that. 

The Holiday Party at the North Pond was initially a drag, which morphed into animalistic anticipation once I realised that I’d have the opportunity to spend time with Elain one on one. Sure there would be eyes on us, but I knew that most people wouldn’t give us a second thought. And me? Oh, I had all sorts of ideas. 

I was going to be nice. I was going to be charming. I was going to show her a whole new side of me. The side that she’d fall in love with. The side she’d want. The side that she’d seek out for support and assistance and guidance. The side that she’d want to curl up to when she was tired and stressed. 

Tension radiated through me for the past two weeks.

I was moving into a new position with a lot more responsibilities and was going to be under more scrutiny simply because I was going to be in charge of a very large fund. It didn’t worry me per se, however, the whole Elain thing gnawed at me day in and out. She consumed me. She consumed my thoughts, she consumed my dreams. Pussy lost all meaning and attraction to me, whilst I’d beat myself off raw to the fantasy of those big brown eyes and her innocent little face. I didn’t want to fuck anything or anyone, exept for my hand to the thoughts of Elain’s perfect naked body. I wanted to find some solace, a piece of mind, a bit of tranquility in my head, but it was proving very difficult. 

…She was wearing a velvet burgundy dress. Bare arms, a deep V that lovingly displayed her gorgeous breasts and the delicious crater of her cleavage. I didn’t love the length of the dress–it was midi, which made sense in the context of a holiday party, but I would’ve preferred something shorter or floor-length. But I still admired the black and burgundy pumps and how her ankles looked when she crossed her legs.

She was unbearably sexy and I had trouble controlling myself around her, and the fact that there was entirely too much male attention on her, I was not too pleased about. I surely wanted to look at her cleavage, but it seemed that every other buffoon had the same idea. I hovered around her, getting her little plates of appetizers, talking to her, and making sure that no one else dared to approach what was my woman. Oh, they sensed it. The men: they sensed the challenge. But I am big and I am dominant and I am strong, and no one had the balls to test me, or my intentions. All of this was happening on a primal level–I don’t think that any of our co-workers actually thought that I’d be interested in my subordinate. More fools them. But they still avoided Elain for the most part, because I wasn’t looking too friendly, even if it was only instinctual. After all, we were all studs vying for the attention of the same bitch. 

-

Graysen Nolan and Gwyneth Berdara…Ugh. 

Gwyn was a junior analyst, and was probably even more clueless than Elain, and that's saying something. I don’t know how it was possible that she couldn’t read the signs of my disinterest, but alas, I guess it was my burden to carry–dealing with clueless women. 

Elain was at the bar, and I stepped away for literally a second, when I was accosted by Gwyn, who began yapping about mentorships and how she’d like for me to help her with calcs and client engagement. Girl. I am not helping anyone with calcs. I am too fucking old and basic calculations were way past my time. But I nodded and even joined her at the bar, barely tolerating the dull conversation. She was a nice, if overly eager girl, and in any other instance, I probably would’ve thought that she was hitting on me and mentorship was code word for something else entirely. But, god help me, she actually wanted me to mentor her. Wanted me to show her spreadsheets, and how to pull information efficiently, and what I thought would work best for the clients in terms of presentation. I barely heard her, because it was then that Graysen fucking Nolan sidled over to my girl and started talking to her. Clearly, he didn’t get the memo that she was off limits. She’s been throwing shy, furtive glances my way, her cute little nose wrinkling a little when she looked at Gwyn, who was babbling away next to me. 

Could it be? Could my pretty girl be a little bit jealous? However, it seems like she also didn’t the memo that she belonged to me and shouldn’t have been accepting drinks from other men.

I couldn't help but sneer at the fucking cheap drink that he got her. A GnT no less–not everyone’s favourite, and obviously not Elain’s. Graysen was oblivious though. Fucking figures. 

I was still pissed off though. Especially when Graysen–I am pretty sure about that–propositioned her. I could see how she got all red and awkward and guilty-looking. Oh yeah. Be afraid.  I was angry alright. Not that anyone could tell. I’ve learned long ago to keep my face unreadable and generally pleasant looking. So she had no idea that I was fuming inside. 

The moment she got off the bar stool and stumbled, with Graysen grabbing at her, I was done with this shit. She swayed when she walked to the bathroom and I managed to get Graysen involved in a conversation with one of the guys from Investments. By the time I turned around, Elain was back, sitting at the bar, her cheek propped on her hand, her eyes closed. I chuckled. She was drunk as a skunk.

I approached her slowly, watching her eyes pop open and look at me with a bleary expression.

“You are hammered,” I told her.

She huffed and began arguing instantly.

“I am not! I am perfectly fine.”

“Stand up then,” I ordered her and she immediately hefted herself out of her chair, attempting to stand straight. She failed. She wobbled and swayed, and I saw an opportunity when it presented itself to me. I wrapped my arm around her, resting my hand on her hip. Her soft breasts almost pressed into my chest. She was soft all over, soft and pliant and needy. I could sense it. I could’ve probably turned her around right now and hiked up her burgundy dress and exposed her lovely ass to the cold air. I probably could’ve fucked it too. I briefly pondered if she’s been fucked in the ass before, but quickly dismissed the idea as insane. I wouldn’t have been surprised if she was a virgin everywhere. I didn’t think so–some douche probably got to my cherry before me–but that didn’t stop me from imagining how I’d part her pale cheeks and watch her little pink hole quiver in terror. As it should. My hand deftly brushed against the curve of her spine, my touch light and unthreatening, and I smirked to myself, thinking that she had no idea what was on my mind. I was going to fuck her ass hard–she’d cry and beg me to stop and she’d complain that it hurts. But I’d fuck her until she’d start whimpering and whining ‘more, Azriel. Please. More.’ I’d be a gentleman, of course. I’d fuck the tiny pink hole until it was gaping from my dick. And once I was done and she was freshly ass-fucked, she’d turn to me and shyly, sweetly whisper ‘thank you, Azriel. I am yours.’ 

“Looks like you are hammered,” was all I said. My dick was getting hard and it was a little early for all that.

She was still arguing about her state of inebriation with me, though I wasn’t listening. I was inhaling her sweet floral scent, the whiff of alcohol and the burnt sugar from the creme brulee that she had for dessert. She didn’t even notice it when I placed both of my palms on her hips. When she talked, she attempted to gesticulate and in combination with her swaying, her tits jiggled and bounced. I pretended not to notice. I was going to fuck them too. I wanted to see her nipples–pink, probably, hopefully nice and plump, just like I liked it. I imagined being deep inside her tight, warm ass, pounding steadily, stretching her on my cock. I imagined her huge brown eyes watching me, blinking and wet with tears, the eyelashes sticky. I imagined her pink mouth open and gasping, whispering desperately ‘please Azriel. It hurts. It’s too big. Please. I can’t. It’s too deep. Please, no.” Of course it was going to be too big for her, and I’d burrow as deep as I possibly could. Her pleas would fall on deaf ears though–she could whine and sob all she wanted. I’d be busy sucking those jiggly tits of hers, riding her ass, making her realise who she belonged to with each thrust. 

“I am taking you home,” I said abruptly. I needed to separate from her for a second, and get myself together. My mind was running wild. 

“No, no, I can’t go with you,” she protested feebly. Like I’d listen.

She then had the audacity to add, “No, you can’t take me home. I am not allowing you to.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “I wasn’t asking for permission,” I reminded her. 

I half-dragged her to the coat room, and left her sitting there, while I went to gather all her stuff. 

I needed to figure out my next moves. 

I desperately wanted to fuck her, but it was more than that–I wanted to possess her. I wanted to own her. I wanted her to be mine. I needed her to fall for me, even despite all her reservations. She told me that she didn’t like me and that I was mean to her. It wasn’t untrue, and I could see why she’d think that, but she didn’t understand that to love me, she had to know and see all my sides. And I had way more bad sides than the good.

I kind of wanted to have her sober our first time. Where there is definitely something absolutely amazing about fucking a totally compliant woman, who’d do whatever you want her to, and I certainly wanted my Elain to be like that–giving, and obedient, and submissive. Fighting me a little, but having all her holes ready and softened for me, opening herself up to my invasion, taking everything that I was ready to give her. A bit of resistance was always nice, but I expected total submission afterwards. I knew she’d give it to me. She was naturally compliant. She was a pleaser. Dominating her would be an absolute joy. But I wanted a sober submission.

There was a way to do it: make her think that she wanted it herself. Take it. Film it. It was the most ruthless way of buying her compliance, but I wasn’t above resorting to it in order to get what I wanted. 

By the time I grabbed her stuff: purse, shawl, phone, I still hadn't made a decision on how to proceed. 

Elain was dozing off where I left her, her eyes closed, her expression peaceful.

She was so beautiful.

I told her that earlier today. I know that she was surprised to hear it. I don’t think that she was completely oblivious to her own attractiveness, but she certainly didn’t expect that kind of praise to come from me. It was amazing how she still didn’t pick up on the signs and didn’t understand that I was interested in her. 

I punched in the code on her phone and scrolled through her photos and contacts.

The photos didn’t surprise me–there were hundreds of Chapo. Chapo sleeping. Chapo sitting, Chapo running. Chapo in outfits. Chapo in a bath. Chapo eating. Elain hugging Chapo like she was about to squeeze the life out of him. There were photos of her with her sisters–I could see the resemblance even though Elain was the prettiest. Selfies in different outfits. No photos with any men. 

Her eyes opened and her expression turned dismayed. She realised what I was doing and that it was her phone and jumped from the seat, trying to grab the phone away, but she only succeeded in falling into my chest and allowing me the opportunity to hold her close, while I looked at the contacts and deleted those she didn’t need to have. She just glared at me with derision and disbelief, like this was the most shocking thing she’s ever seen. 

Lover-boy Graysen, who dared to paw at something that didn’t belong to him, was the first one to go. The thing is–Elain belongs to me. I knew it then, I know it now. But it’s not a one way street. I belong to her just as well. She is mine. But I am also hers. Graysen never played by the same rules and all he wanted to do was take her for a ride. I could ride her infinitely better than he ever could, but I’d give her much more than that. 

I deleted Eris. Isaac. Aggressively sexual Tarquin, who’s been hanging out at our break room a little too often for my liking. 

Also, did she have the names of every able bodied male in her phone? Thankfully, it didn’t seem like she was texting with anyone. Nor would she. 

“Who is Ripleigh?” I asked. “Is it a man or a woman?”

“It’s a woman. It’s my aunt!” she screeched. 

She wasn’t lying. It actually said ‘Aunt Ripleigh’ in the contacts, but I wanted to test her. I smiled, dropped the phone in her purse and went to get our coats. 

I enjoyed watching her discomfort as we walked out of the park. The poor thing really thought that I’d just dump her in an Uber and let her be. But even worse, she was forced to hold on to me, because I was a gentleman and I offered her my arm, which she reluctantly threaded her hand through. We walked in silence, as I allowed her to adjust to the inevitability of what was about to transpire. She was alone with me, the one she feared, and maybe hated, and it was my arm she was leaning on, and it was my body behind which she huddled to escape the unforgiving wind. I bet she didn’t know how she managed to end up in this situation, and I couldn’t help but chuckle at her predicament. Poor thing. In way over her head. 

There was another test that I was going to put her through. The outcome would tell me a lot about how she felt, even if she fought it. 

She surprised me though, even before we got in the car. We stood waiting for the Uber to arrive when she suddenly said “You talked to Gwyn a lot tonight”.

That floored me. Good thing that she had her head pressed to my shoulder and her eyes closed. Because honestly, I am not sure if I could’ve played it off cool. 

Was she actually…jealous? I didn’t know how to respond to her just yet, so I deflected and asked her about Graysen instead. That little prick did attempt to ask her out. I’d have to remind him that interoffice romances were highly discouraged. They weren’t, technically. Especially because Elain and he were colleagues and peers. They could date if they wanted to. She and I–we were a problem of course. I was her boss. She was a subordinate. She was someone I selected myself for my team. Sure, I’d get in trouble if we were discovered, but I was a man and I was liked and respected in the company, and I was a managing partner. Men like me could and did get away with a lot of things. It would be much harder for her. A woman in a very large, prestigious financial institution, getting promoted within a year…The optics weren’t good for her. And just another way for me to keep her quiet once I made her mine.

The fight went out of her pretty quickly once we were in the car. I know that she was tired and cold and sleepy. She knew that I wasn’t going anywhere. I wasn’t sure if she even believed that I’d leave her once we arrived at her place. Instead, she did exactly what I wanted her to do–she passed the test. 

Her head fell on my shoulder and her hand on my thigh. She fell asleep on me. Because deep down, she trusted me. I’d have to think about it and unpack it later on. There was a lot happening tonight and I wasn’t ready to address her behaviour fully. 

Don’t worry. I didn’t rape her. 

Not technically.

And not because of morals, or anything idiotic like that. Mostly because of awareness. 

At the end of the day, I wanted her to know that it was me. I wanted her to be conscious. I wanted her to be…well, willing or unwilling, that didn’t really matter to me–but present and succumbing. 

She was out by the time we parked by her house. Good thing I knew where she lived, what floor her apartment was on and how to get inside. I rummaged through her purse, got the keys out, while she hung onto me sleepily, snorting softly into my arm. I got us inside and lifted her in my arms, carrying her upstairs. 

The only holiday decoration that she had inside was a string of lights around the window. It helped me orientate myself in the apartment and I carried her to the bedroom. I left her on the bed and went exploring. 

The apartment was large for a single woman–it was completely remodelled, while maintaining some of the old Chicago charm. I knew she wasn’t poor and considering how much she was making, she could afford it. However, I also did some background digging and learned that Elain Archeron and her two sisters grew up in Winnetka, IL, in a mansion that overlooked Lake Michigan and that their father was the CEO of a major global shipping company. Of course the sisters went to New Trier High School–one of the best in the country. The funny thing is that we were basically neighbors–I graduated from the same school a year before she started 9th grade. I wondered if my father knew hers? They were probably members of the same Glencoe Golf Club. I usually didn’t believe in coincidences, but as our worlds narrowed more and more, I was beginning to believe that perhaps, this was all meant to be. That maybe, this was destiny. 

On the surface, the place was tidy and neat. Bookshelves with popular novels–romantasy, by the looks of it. Cassian would love it here! Apparently she also needed three Kindles–one at the little reading nook by the window, another on the kitchen counter and the third was on her nightstand. But the more I explored the more it became obvious that things weren’t as neat and tidy as I first thought. She clearly didn’t have the time or the energy to decorate for Christmas. The trendy herb garden in the kitchen was wilting: the chives half-dead, the basil yellowing, the parsley limp. I grabbed a glass and watered all of them. Dirty dishes were piled in the sink. I could see a layer of dust on the credenza, and on the family photos. Chapo was prominently featured in almost all the pictures. I would need to do something about this dog. She was clearly obsessed with him. The rug could use a vacuum and even though there was a shoe rack in the entry closet, sneakers and booties and boots were piled haphazardly by the door. 

Perhaps, she wasn’t handling things as well as I’d assumed she was. 

It didn’t make me want to go easier on her, but I’d have to make some considerations. I looked at my phone, and though she didn’t deserve it, I decided to take one of her reports and finish it up myself. She still needed to re-do the UBS report though and I wasn’t going to take that off her plate.

I removed my suit jacket, my tie, my belt, my shoes and walked back to the bedroom. 

The bed was unmade–we’d need to discuss it later. Discarded options for this night’s outfits were dumped on the bed and the chair–a green dress, a couple of black dresses, a sparkly number, and a red pantsuit. I picked them all up and went into her closet to hang them. And then I started on her–I lifted her torso off the bed and tugged her coat off. Then I removed her shoes and her scarf. The dress rode up her legs, above the knees and I sat on my hunches, admiring the view. She was soft and her chest rose up and down evenly and I couldn’t help myself and cupped her breast in my palm, squeezing gently. She hummed and her eyes opened. She looked up at me, confused, while I rubbed her nipple with my thumb, caressing her breast. Would she suck my cock if I pushed it in her mouth right now? Probably not well, but I could fuck her mouth and come all over her face, just to make it known that it happened. She licked her lips, her gaze unfocused. 

“What are you doing here?” she murmured.

“Shhh, sleep, baby,” I urged her. 

She nodded.

“Do you want my cock in your mouth?” I asked casually.

She seemed to think about the proposal for a moment and then argued, “I don’t think I am supposed to…”

“But I give you permission?” I pressed, feeling her up in search of a zipper. “What if I say that you should suck it and that you should please me?”

She draped her arm around my neck, while I unzipped her dress and pulled it down her torso. 

“You’d be pleased with me?” she confirmed.

I nodded.

“Very.”

She sighed and yawned.

“I want to please you,” she admitted. “You are scary…But you are handsome,”

“Oh yeah?”

She nodded vigorously.

“I like you…but I hate you too.”

“I know. It’s okay.”

“Do you like me?” she asked, her voice both sleepy but also hopeful.

“Oh, I like you a lot.”

She smiled and then plopped back down on the bed. 

I smiled and stroked her cheek.

“You’ll suck everything, sweetheart,” I whispered in her ear, inhaling her scent deep into my lungs. “Even things you never imagined sucking before.”

She was almost nude, wearing only a black lace bra, same style underwear and nude pantyhose. 

I rubbed my hands together in anticipation. Even if she wasn’t going to get my dick in her mouth tonight, I was going to get my hands on her tits. I ripped her hose off impatiently, rolling them down her legs and then pushed my face into the warm, damp crotch. I bit her pussy lips through the lace. I pulled on the band and lifted the material up, so I could see. Puffy pink pussy, no hair. Not shaved, but removed professionally. I rolled the panties down and then shoved her legs apart, opening her up. I needed to see. Impatiently, I pulled her lips apart, wider and wider, until she lay splayed like an open book in front of me. She was wet and pink and I pinched her clit between my fingers, squeezing hard. She jerked on the bed and moaned loudly. I pressed her knees to the mattress and placed her hands on top, so she looked like she was holding herself wide open for me. My head went quiet. The way I was going to destroy this pussy…even the thought alone made my cock ache something brutal. 

I cupped her whole pussy in my hand and squeezed, getting my palm wet with her juices.

“My cunt,” I whispered in her ear. “My woman. All of you are mine.”

I licked my hand, tasting her, and then took off my shirt, and my trousers. I wanted to feel her skin next to mine. I didn’t plan to stay for the night, but now, my plans have changed. 

I rolled her over on her stomach because I wanted to see her other hole. There was something exhilarating about using her and her body any way that I wanted. I sat on the bed, and lifted her hips, until her round pale ass was up in the air. I spread her legs wider, and then slowly pulled her cheeks apart. 

Oh yes. I grinned to myself. Also mine.

I was rough, pulling on her tiny hole with my fingers, until her hips rose and shifted instinctually, and I watched her squeeze the bedding nervously. I spat on her hole and it twitched, as saliva slid down between her cheeks and towards her pussy. I watched the slow progression, before reaching between her thighs and dipping both of my thumbs into her opening. I pulled her apart, as wide as she would go. There was something insane about watching her hole ripple and then looking inside of her. I could see inside her body, the place where my children would come from. I spat again and it oozed inside of her and I murmured, “that’s my good girl. Keep it inside. Until you are ready for more.”

I rolled her again and her tits flopped heavily side to side. I climbed on top of her and kissed her neck. I kissed her ear, her forehead. I gathered her breasts in my hands and then I began to suck.

-

That Monday, after the party, after I spent the night with Elain, after I looked inside her womb and sucked on her tits like they were last meal, I didn’t expect her to show up at work. I checked my email a couple of times over the weekend, to see if she was going to request a day off and I was not going to grant it. Sadly, it was not to be. 

She came as always, on time, or rather, earlier than almost everyone. She was dressed in all black–a black turtleneck, black trousers, black boots, and three strings of pearls. Her hair was curled and covered her cheeks and her neck. She was hiding. She was wearing armour, trying to push me back and hide the evidence of our night together. All the hickeys, all the bites, all the scratches.

We had a 7:30 am meeting with Switzerland and everyone piled into the conference room at 7:15am.

I decided to make the official announcement about my team before the meeting started.

“Good weekend everyone?” I asked.

There were groans and nods and complaints about holiday shopping. Elain remained quiet, eyes firmly on her laptop.

“Elain?” I asked her after some time.

She looked up at me, lips pursed together, glowering.

“I’ve had better,” she sneered.

“Oh really? That’s a shame,” I shook my head. “I guess we’ll work harder next time to make sure you have a great weekend.”

She almost gasped in horror.

I smiled.

“Now,” I looked at the team. “I wanted to start off by announcing that I’ve made my preliminary assessments of everyone’s capabilities, strengths and weaknesses on the team. The following people will be joining me and will be reporting to me.”

I rattled out a bunch of names: traders, brokers, auditors, administrators, analysts and transfer agents. 

Graysen jumped up, his face screwed up,

“I am sorry, you are choosing Elain over me??”

“Is there a problem?” I queried.

“I have seniority! I have more experience. I’ve been busting my a-,”

“I don’t care what you’ve been busting,” I told him sternly. “My mind is made up. Her reports are timely, thorough, supported with good data and I trust her calculations,” I explained.

“No, you needed a token chick on the team!” Graysen sneered.

“Sit down,” I ordered him. “If you have a problem with my decision making, take it up with Rhysand. Are we clear? Elain’s been punctual, precise, and delivered excellent work. I expect all of you to treat her with respect and we will all have a great year. Remember the potential, guys. Some of you are looking at some major bonuses. Let’s start the year off running.”

There were fist pumps, and loud cheers and applause. 

Elain was red-cheeked.

But I wasn’t going to let anyone think anything less of her just because she was a woman. She was my woman. But she was also my employee and my team member. I didn’t care if this was a boys’ club. She belonged here, with us.

After the meeting, which went well, I watched her walk back to her cube.

I smiled.

I was in for the long run.

I was going to break her.

I was going to make her mine.

But first, I picked up my phone and scrolled through my contacts, finding the cleaning service that I used. 

I ordered a bi-weekly house cleaning for Elain. And then, I pulled up a bunch of food delivery options and started reading. Hello Fresh? Home Chef? Marley Spoon? Whatever I was going to decide on was going to be the best service out there. Only the best for my girl.

[lokimobius]

Lokius + 🤕 for the hug asks! :D

Happy Wednesday! Here's a little bit of hurt/comfort.

small content warning for symptoms of anxiety and trauma. it's not too detailed but just letting you all know.

🤕 Panic hug / "I'm glad you're okay”

The sound of glass shattering and Loki shouting had Mobius out of his seat in seconds. He grabbed his golf club from the hallway and gripped it tightly as he made his way towards the sound.

They had defeated He Who Remains and his variants over a year ago, but that didn’t stop him from worrying that someone was out to get them every time there was a loud sound.

The battle had been intense and left everyone with varying degrees of trauma. Mobius had suffered from nightmares of everyone and everything he loved getting destroyed. He dreamt of Loki sacrificing himself yet again, and this time he was never going to come back. The scenarios his brain conjured up haunted him, and he was losing sleep over them.

He couldn’t stay at the TVA any longer. As much as he would miss his friends, the pressure of his role, combined with the lack of sleep, made him sick. He had to go.

Not long after his decision to leave, Loki and Mobius had moved to the timeline to start a quiet life together, far away from the danger of being pivotal players in a multiversal war.

He stepped into their kitchen cautiously, raising the golf club up in readiness to swing.

Loki was nowhere to be found. Panic washed over his body. Had they taken him? The windows were in tact, so it didn’t seem like someone had broken in. But someone could’ve used magic. Damn it, why had he not thought about that until now? He’d have to get Loki to cast a protective spell around their house.

“Loki?!” He called loudly, panic now rising in his chest. His ears started to ring, and he gripped on to the golf club tighter.

Loki’s head popped up from behind the counter. “Down here!” He eyed the golf club in Mobius’ hand, and the smile on his face dropped. “Mobius?”

Mobius dropped the makeshift weapon to the floor and stumbled around the other side of the counter.

“Hey, hey, watch out!” Loki warned, standing up quickly to hold his hands out towards Mobius. “There’s glass all over the floor!”

Mobius didn’t care. He grabbed Loki's outreached hands and pulled him in for a tight hug. 

“I thought they’d taken you.”

Loki ran his hand up and down Mobius' back in an attempt to soothe him. “Who's they?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Mobius said, burrowing his head into Loki’s neck. “I’m just glad you’re okay.” 

They stood there for a while, wrapped up in the safety of each other's arms. Loki swayed them side to side and continued running a calming hand up and down Mobius’ back.

“I might be okay, but the glasses that B-15 gave us aren't." He laughed, placing his chin on top of Mobius’ head. “I don’t think she’ll be pleased.”

“Don’t worry,” Mobius mumbled into his chest. “I’ll protect you.”

Loki smiled and squeezed Mobius tighter. “You always do.”

[brattzwrld]

𝐏𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐞 | 𝐑.𝐂

Reader is 16

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𝒴𝑜𝓊'𝓇𝑒 𝓂𝓎 𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓉𝓁𝑒 𝓈𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓀𝓁𝑒 𝒿𝓊𝓂𝓅-𝓇𝑜𝓅𝑒 𝓆𝓊𝑒𝑒𝓃

𝒴𝑜𝓊'𝓇𝑒 𝓂𝓎 𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓉𝓁𝑒 𝓈𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓀𝓁𝑒

Reader’s POV

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ᴸⁱᵍʰᵗˢ, ᶜᵃᵐᵉʳᵃ, ᵃᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿ

ᴵᶠ ʰᵉ ˡⁱᵏᵉˢ ᵐᵉ, ᵗᵃᵏᵉˢ ᵐᵉ ʰᵒᵐᵉ

I walked into the country club with my friends, we laughed and talked about random things that popped into our head as we went outside and sat at one of the mini tables.

“Oh my god! Did you hear about what happened to her?” my friend Ashley asked, being messy as the rest of them said no and she told them the story.

I wasn't interested in the whole conversation, I sighed put my hand on my cheek, and looked around, my eyes landed on a guy with a buzzed cut who was already staring at me, he smiled at me as I gave him a small one back and looked away.

I must not have been paying attention for a while because they all stood up making me look up at all of them “Where you going?” my soft voice made them all look up “gonna play some golf-” “Try” Gianna cut Rebecca off as she glared at her.

“C'mon “ Gianna grabbed my hand and we left the table and headed to where the leftover golf balls were and found an empty spot to play in.

“We're not even gonna play, all we're gonna do is sit and talk?” I told them making Gianna gasp “We are not-” We are” Rebecca cut Gianna off this time. “We're going to try to play and if we fail at this golf shit then we're going shopping” Gianna giggled and placed golf into one of the stuck things “Ready?” she asked us “No! Are you ready? Ashley asks laughing taking a sip of her drink.

Gianna swung and the golf flew off somewhere “I-...do we get it?” the rest of us shrugged “Hold this” Ashley gave me her drink and she, Gianna and Rebecca ran off to go get it “Stay here so nobody takes our spot” and then they ran off.

I sighed once again, took a sip of her drink, and immediately regretted it “Ew! Shit nasty” I said and continued to look at the spot where their figure had disappeared “They do know they just leave it there, right?” I jumped from the voice and quickly turned around seeing it was the man from early.

“Oh, well their trying to find it now” I smiled at him, and he hummed, it was now silent, “you new here?” he asked now moving more in front of me, i shook my head “No, I don’t come here often “oh so what d’you do?” he asks placing the ball on the mini stick.

I shrugged “Nothing really, I usually stay home on days like this” he swung his golf watching it land wherever it landed, “So..what? You just stay in the house?” he asked now turning around to face me and I nodded “yea” “that's kina sound boring”

I made a face “It's…not really, I don't like going out as much as my friends do” I said slighting now swinging side to side, he didn't say anything but hummed.

“What if I asked you on a date?” he turned to look at me and I titled my head “What do you mean?” I asked and he chuckled low “Do you wanna go on a date with me?” he asked “I don’t know you like th-” “Then we can get to know each other”

“How do I know you're not some type of murderer or something” This time he laughed and shocked his head “Nah, I'm not crazy now” he pulled out his phone and handed it to me “Put your number in”

I did what he said and gave him back his phone he eyed me up and down “What's your name?” I asked breaking the silence “Rafe” I nodded “Yours?” “y/n” he smiled at me “I’ll see you later then y/n” he walked away.

-

ᴸⁱᵍʰᵗˢ, ᶜᵃᵐᵉʳᵃ, ᵃᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿ

ᴴᵉ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʰᵉ'ᵈ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵗʰⁱˢ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᶠᵘⁿ

A few months later, me and Rafe got together, he took me on the date he said he would and we had a good time, right now we were on our way back to his house.

“Why are we going to your house?” I ask turning to face him, and he shrugged “why not?” the Conner of his lip turned upward as awe pulled into his drive way.

He got out of the car and went around and opened my side, I stepped out and looked at his house. He softly grabbed my hand and led me inside.

“Mhmm Rafe” I moaned out as he pounded into me “shit—feel so good doll” he groaned out, he wrapped his hand around my throat making me cling tight around him.

I breathed heavily as I stared at him with a pout on my face with my big eyes staring at him “Rafe…?” His eyes snapped towards me “yea baby?”

“Please don’t leave me” he stared at me before giving me a soft smiled “I won’t leave you angle”

-

ᴸⁱᵍʰᵗˢ, ᶜᵃᵐᵉʳᵃ, ᵃᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿ

ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ⁱ ᶜᵃⁿ'ᵗ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ⁱᵗ ᵒⁿ ᵐʸ ᵒʷⁿ

“We can’t keep doing this anymore” he pointed between us “wh-what why?” I quickly ask standing in front of him “because you're younger, I’m older-“ “okay? Rafe I love you and I know you love me too—you-can’t just leave me here”

“I don’t understand I thought you liked me” I shouted at him making him stare at me, he walked up to me and wiping the tear off my check.

“I'm sorry” he mumbled and he pulled me into a hug, I was now sobbing into his chest and my small fist clinging onto his shirt. “You know I can’t make it on my own Rafe”

[mjrtaurus]

Dragon: My Parasomnia buddy is Jacob. He's a man with five eyes who crumples like forgotten laundry when my mother attacks him with a golf club.

Crocodile: My Parasomnia takes the form of my headless sperm donor who stands in the corner, constantly reminding me of my past sins.

Dragon:

Dragon: Do you want to borrow my mom?

Cut to the dead of night, Crocodile purposefully sleeping on his back to have fucked up dreams with Urpi at his bedside, steel chair in hand, ready to beat the headless phantom of Rocks D Xebec right back to Hell where it belongs.