#europe's young stars

[gayestcowboy]

I saw your tags on the poll about how many countries you've been to and I was wondering if that was on an Ambassadors tour with your state's band, orchestra and choir kids? Because I did that and it was those countries in that order

……………………………….yes

[xshadowdelta]

DESFILABA EN MILÁN

Yoo Jimin (Karina) x Male Reader (6K Length)

Being the son of the president and owner of one of the most famous multinational companies in the entire world had an infinite number of advantages, but one stood out above the rest. The economic power you wielded was practically inexhaustible, which led you to a life of luxuries and whims, since you won the race against the rest of the sperm.

Living in a mansion, having a driver and bodyguard, attending private schools, and one of the best universities in the world, having a huge guaranteed job, and rubbing shoulders with some of the most important people on the planet. Although the latter was sometimes more of a drawback than an advantage, depending on how tedious the matter at hand was.

And that was what had brought you here, to Milan, Italy, in what was known as Milan Fashion Week, a show whose date was marked on the calendar of everyone who was interested in this whole panorama.

It's not that it was your first time attending an event of this caliber, but it was your first time dealing with something related to fashion, a topic that you hardly knew anything about and that didn't interest you too much, to be honest.

Why were you here then? Simple, because of one of your father's contacts. The world of business was not simply about making money with your company, offering a quality product, managing your employees and going home to sleep every night, no, it went much further.

Everyone should start from the bottom, and once you have managed to reach the top, the difficulty lies in staying up there, which is something that experts always say. And to achieve this objective, alliances are needed, partners if you prefer, in order to build a powerful and, at the same time, faithful network of contacts.

One of the most powerful designers at the show belonged to your father's network of contacts, and therefore also to yours and your company's. Attending this parade was nothing more than a business commitment to strengthen the relationship between you two.

However, the CEO of the company, that is, your father, was closing a deal with a new investor in the USA, and his busy schedule prevented him from traveling to Europe precisely at that time. And there is where you came in, your position as heir, your father's current right-hand man, and future president meant that these tasks fell on you.

You had to admit that you were a little nervous. The crowd of celebrities didn't surprise you, you had been to places like this before, but the fashion world used to bring together a lot of, no offense, snobs.

Since your childhood, you have dealt with thousands of these types of people. You were seasoned in a thousand battles against posh children of rich parents who believe they are the center of the universe, just because the guy they called dad once fucked their mother without wearing a condom in a gas station bathroom, and he ended up having success with some banal bullshit. Luckily, you hadn't turned out that stupid.

You witnessed the parade from the guest area between a young actor who was beginning to emerge in Hollywood and a Formula 1 driver. Experiencing this type of event from the inside perhaps would eliminate your prejudices and change your way of seeing them, nothing could be further from reality.

You still couldn't understand how there were people willing to not only wear such extravagant outfits and clothing, but also pay for them, a negligible sum of money for you, obviously, but it wasn't for 99% of the population.

Hours passed and the moon, along with a blanket of stars, beautifully illuminated the sky of the city, in accordance with the end of the event and the subsequent celebration, one of those famous after-parties that the great figures used to chat, get to know each other, and, of course, do some business.

However, that night, it wasn’t among your tasks to sign any new contracts with anyone there. Luckily for you, your father was lenient in this matter. Attending the event, interacting a little bit with acquaintances, and having the freedom to leave after completing said mission.

“I can’t believe my eyes. Look who is here, it's my good friend's little boy!” You caught a glimpse of a quirky guy, approaching you with his arms open.

There was the culprit of this little trip through the Italian country, your father's old partner, a man with long gray hair, about 60 years old, extremely thin and whose body was surrounded by who knows how many animal skins are in danger of extinction.

“It is a pleasure to see you again, sir.” You lied as he hugged you, patting your back. “I thank you for the invitation on behalf of my father, I am sure he would have loved to be able to attend.”

“Ah, that old father of yours, he continues to work too much, it's time for you to take over.”

“It is difficult, sir, we also want him to rest, but you know how stubborn he is.” At that moment, one of the waiters approached you with a tray full of champagne glasses, which you both took.

You continued talking for a while, mostly about your impressions of the show and the work you were involved in lately, taking advantage of the moment to introduce you to other designers and moguls and even some of the models who had paraded on the scenario.

“The last time I saw you, what were you, 16 years old? But look at you now, you are already a man, and you will carry on your shoulders the weight of a huge brand, it is a weight that is not inconsiderable at all. Have you not thought about having a good woman to help you?”

“I think I'm still young for that, sir, but it's certainly something I haven't considered at the moment.”

“There are countless women here and each one stands out in something: power, beauty, intelligence…I could introduce you to whoever you wanted.”

You were beginning to feel uncomfortable because of the direction the conversation was taking. Although it is true that your father gave you freedom on that topic, from time to time he had dropped a comment about it. Without a girlfriend and a large fortune, you were a good catch, of course, but also the perfect target for fortune hunters. However, that didn't stop you from having fun sometimes.

You scanned the place with your gaze, doing a quick sweep of the people that came into your visual range. You then stopped at a girl who stood out above the rest in your perception.

She had Asian features, a bright dark hair and was wearing a very elegant black dress that was tight to her body. Her face was simply beautiful, somewhat pale, but certainly beautiful, as if she were the human representation of a goddess, and her body had perfect proportions, highlighted perfectly by that small dress. She was chatting cheerfully with one of the models at the show, and her smile left you speechless.

The old man next to you also observed the girl since your gaze had been lost in her, and they didn’t have a plan to return to their initial position. He gave you a playful smile and placed a hand on your shoulder. That touch was enough to make you come back to earth.

“Be careful, kid, you know what they say, the devil wears Prada.”

The designer left you there confused with those words while he went to greet another of his guests, but your eyes were still focused on that young girl. You took a long drink of your champagne, finishing it instantly and leaving the glass on one of the nearby tables to begin walking determinedly in the direction of the girl.

Sadly for you, a third person blocked your way by putting an arm around your shoulders. You tried to free yourself from that grip until you realized who it was, one of your old university classmates, the son of a great businessman in the automotive world.

He spoke to you animatedly for a few minutes in which you didn’t pay him a single second of attention while your eyes tried not to lose sight of the figure of that girl, now hidden behind the body of your friend.

You wanted to interrupt him and say something, but you also didn't want to be disrespectful. That was your mistake, was what you thought when he dragged you from there to introduce you to another group of people while you watched how you were moving away from your goal.

Suddenly you found yourself caught up in a loop that lasted about a couple of hours, about meeting new personalities, stupid conversations about business that you would have participated in another time, but not right now when your head was in somewhere else.

You managed to get out of that group with the typical excuse of having to use the bathroom, and you dove into another amount of people trying to escape. You walked through the huge room where the party was taking place while your eyes moved restlessly from side to side.

After a few long minutes, your search was unsuccessful, and you sighed in defeat, thinking that perhaps that girl had already left the party. Your left hand grabbed a strand of hair from your bangs, twisting it angrily, while your right hand held the elbow of your other hand. If you had been alone, you would have let out a frustration yell.

It was then when you noticed how a hand gently touched your back, making you turn on your feet, coming face to face with the owner of your thoughts. You relaxed the expression on your face that could not hide its surprise at seeing her standing there looking at you with a smile, as if a halo of light illuminated only her, dazzling.

“I've been waiting for you all night.” She said this, making a small pout with her mouth. That completely unnerved you. The unknown girl made the first contact. Was she waiting for you?

"How is…"

“I noticed how you looked at me.” Shit, you had been so freaking obvious. Your cheeks flushed red with embarrassment, thereby increasing the volume of her giggle.

“Yoo Jimin, but you can call me Karina.” She offered one of her hands to you, you shook it in greeting, indicating your name back.

Both of you started talking at that moment. You learned that she came from South Korea and that she was dedicated to music and entertainment, specifically being a K-pop idol in a group known as Aespa along with three other girls. You knew little about the subject, but if she was part of it, it was definitely something interesting to investigate in the future.

She told you that she assisted this event as an ambassador for the Prada brand, you smiled then remembering the old man's words, but you still had to decipher the second part.

“And will you stay for a long time in Italy?” You asked.

You were supposed to fly back home tomorrow, but your private plane could wait as long as necessary.

“Oh, well, the truth is that tomorrow I'm going back to Seoul.” It made you sad to know that, and it seems that she noticed it because she got a little closer to you to whisper something in your ear.

“But that doesn't stop us to make this night indelible.” The sensual tone of her voice combined with her perverted smile gave you the clue you needed, there was the devil.

The journey from the place of celebration to the place where you were staying seemed eternal. During the trip, you couldn't help but ogle Karina, you were so obvious that she could only laugh and say “cute”.

You gave her way to your suite, walking around it in amazement, as if she hadn't been in hundreds like that before. On one of the occasions when she turned around and faced you, you grabbed her hips, pulling her towards your body to kiss her passionately, something she responded immediately with the same intensity.

“You don't waste time, I like it.” She said playfully, giving you another kiss.

“It's not like I have much.” You replied by lowering your hands to her butt, massaging it a bit, making her sigh against your lips.

“We have the whole night, tiger, we are going to have a great time.” She commented, letting out a moan when she felt your lips attacking her neck. You gave her buttocks a squeeze, appreciating that you agreed with her statement.

You grabbed the hem of her dress and lifted it up pulling it over her head and leaving her in just underwear, and her hand quickly went to the bulge in your crotch caressing it over your pants.

“God, it looks so big, I can't wait to have it in my mouth.” A shiver ran through your body, forcing you to undress as fast as you were allowed, making Karina laugh loudly.

Now with both of you covered only by your underwear, her hands traveled to your chest, caressing it as she reached up to kiss your lips again. In response, your hands distributed slow and gentle caresses along her bare back, taking advantage of the situation to unhook her lace bra. Your torsos were separated enough for the garment to fall to the floor due to gravity.

She took your hand and led you to the bed, where you took her by the waist, causing you both to fall gently lying on the bed, with her under you, still enjoying your kisses.

One of your hands went up her body to her voluptuous breasts, grabbing and kneading one of them at the same time as your tongues surrounded each other inside your mouths.

You moved away from her lips, eager to taste her tits, introducing one into your mouth, savoring it for a long time while your hand caressed her other mound, even going so far as to lightly pinch her nipple.

“Beautiful…” You whispered, offering the same treatment to her other boob.

“Are you saying it to me or my tits?” She asked, pressing your head against her breasts even more.

"Both." She smiled at your answer and shifted on the bed, moving freely, walking on four over the sheets, watching you with a feline gaze that made you rev ​​up the speed.

She completely surrounded your body, being you now the one lying face up on the bed, opening your legs to allowing her to stand in the middle. She lay on top of you, with her face pressed against your crotch, raising her butt giving you an unbeatable view.

She stuck out her tongue to lick the huge bulge that was pushing the fabric of your boxers toward the ceiling, threatening to tear it if it wasn't quickly released. She continued kissing your abdomen, leaving a trail of kisses gradually rising to your chest at the same time that her hands were playing with your member, still inside its lair.

She was playing with you, it was obvious, and you needed her as soon as possible, impatient and anxious, but you refused to show weakness, if Karina wanted to play this game then you would both play.

She went back down to your bulge, there was a part of your gray boxers that had turned into a darker color as some drops of pre-cum had escaped from your tip as a result of Karina's constant teasing. Realizing this she smiled widely with malice knowing that she had won this first round.

She bit with her teeth the elastic of your boxers, pulling them down, lowering them until your hard and throbbing penis was finally free. Karina looked at your naked cock in amazement, bringing her face closer, beginning to spread small kisses along your length.

She rested her elbow on your thigh, measuring your penis with the length of her arm. “Holy fuck, it's so much bigger than I thought. I have never faced one like this” She admitted without stopping kissing it, sticking out her tongue to lick the entire surface, making it wet.

“Come on, I'm sure you could have any boy you wanted…” “You’re not wrong, that's why I have you.” She responded, winking at you.

Meanwhile, your brain was beginning to malfunction due to the pleasure that her lips and tongue were giving you down there. “In that case, be careful and don’t choke yourself.”

Your comment was clearly a joke, but Karina, who was now moving her closed hand around your penis up and down masturbating you, stared at you with a planning in her head.

“There is nothing I want more right now than to choke on this damn cock.” She said in a very hot tone increasing the pace of the handjob making you moan louder.

You swallowed, getting even more excited. You had been with other women before, but Karina gave you an unknown vibe until this moment. She was beautiful, she was sexy, and she was aware of it, and there is no animal more feared by men than a confident and self-assured woman.

A spit came out of the woman's mouth directly onto your cock, which was already completely wet and the movement of the female hand on it was beginning to cause watery sounds.

“I can't wait any longer.” Karina whispered to herself, leaning over your cock, surrounding your tip with her lips and putting as much as she could into her mouth.

She stayed like that for a few seconds adjusting to the size of your penis and proceeded to lower her head a little more until she managed to put the entirety of your dick in her mouth.

You clung tightly to the sheets when shocks of pleasure ran through your body as you noticed how you reached her throat in one go. “God, Karina, you're crazy.”

She would have answered you if her nose wasn't brushing against your lower abdomen at that moment. She was too busy cupping her cheeks to grant you as much pleasure as possible inside her mouth.

After a few seconds of holding her breath she released your member, completely covered in saliva now. Karina coughed a few times but quickly went back to engulfing your cock.

You could see how Karina's head went up and down on your cock in a frantic manner, driving you crazy. Your member did not stop throbbing in the intimacy of her mouth and several strings of saliva were coming out of the girl's mouth meanwhile she was sucking you, starting to make a mess on your lower zone.

You had enough time as spectator and decided to join the action by taking Karina's head in your hands, helping her swallow your cock deep in her throat, causing her to dig her nails into your thighs. You held her hair in one of your fists while she continued to sink again and again on your crotch without any type of modesty.

You removed your hands, and she got separated from you, breathing heavily, but instead of leaning back and walking away, she buried her head between your balls to lick and suck on them, taking them into her mouth.

Karina continued giving love to your balls while now her both hands were masturbating your long member at high speed with enveloping movements, twisting your penis with pleasure.

She switched from your balls to your cock again, sucking you harder than before, swallowing your penis as much as she could and moving her head more desperately, producing erotic sounds from the depths of her throat. 

She let out a large stream of saliva from her mouth against the lower part of your abdomen and your thighs, kneeling on the bed and taking her own tits in her hands, making them swing before your attentive gaze, some of the saliva falling on her breasts.

You sat up a little until you reached her and grabbed her breasts, with a movement of your hips you introduced your penis between them, bouncing your hips and masturbating yourself by using her tits.

This surprised her at first, but she quickly changed her expression to a one much more lustful, staring at you, biting her lower lip, and watching as you enjoyed the massage between her breasts.

Your cock covered on saliva was leaving her tits all sticky and messy, but favoring the sliding of your penis between them.

“Please don't cum yet, I need so much more from you.” Karina moaned, squeezing the sides of her breasts with her knuckles, thus imprisoning your cock, which made you moan.

You lowered your head to kiss her lips, and you placed your hands on her shoulders, starting to move your hips faster. In response, she stuck her tongue out to lick and caress the tip of your cock each time you passed through her breasts.

She held her tits tightly and moved them without mercy or compassion, now they were no longer two huge pieces of meat that shook roughly on your manhood as if they meant nothing more than that, with the only mission of offering you pleasure. “FUCK Karina! Stop or I’m going to explode!” You screamed in ecstasy of lust, doing your best to retain the liquid that was pooling at your tip and threatening to overflow.

She didn't let go of you immediately, no, that would have been too compassionate of her, she slowly reduced the pace making the last caresses feel excitingly deadly. Even so, the damage done to you was remarkable, because the tip of your penis covered in a whitish color was irrefutable proof. With a playful smile Karina bent down to lick your tip and with it those small drops of semen that were peeking out, licking her lips noticeably.

“It tastes so delicious, I can't wait to get the full load.”

You had managed to stabilize your breathing and your emotion just when she threw herself at you again, kissing your lips like a beast and your hands explored each other's body with total freedom, directing one of your hands to her panties to which she began to curve her body rubbing her crotch against your hand.

“I'm so wet.” She made a fake moan, trying to provoke you. “I'm pretty sure you could sink that whole cock into my pussy so easily right now.” Her eyes, her mouth and her entire body were breathing fire, and you weren't afraid of getting burned.

“And what are you supposed to be waiting for?” You played along, murmuring close to her ear as you pulled down her panties and she kicked in the air until she sent them flying away from the bed. “Help yourself.” You gave her another effusive kiss while holding your hard, erect member, offering her a clear sign.

Karina then sat on you, a few inches from your penis, in fact, it was now held upwards, resting on the girl's stomach, and you couldn't have a better view of her at that moment.

She licked the palm of her hand, then running it over your tip, rubbing it insistently in circular motions. One of your eyes closed trying to resist, you were trying to avoid having to beg her at all costs. You were lucky that she was madly horny and couldn't stay playing with you much longer.

She rose just enough to be able to insert the tip of your penis into the entrance to her pussy, slowly descending, allowing you full access to her interior in one go.

A long sigh left her mouth once her butt made contact with your thighs, staying still for a few seconds staring at the ceiling with her eyes closed and a smile on her face. Your hands caressed her thighs, going up to her hips and abdomen, leaving one of your hands lightly pressed against her stomach.

She looked down to make direct eye contact with you while still smiling. Her hands handled yours on her stomach, moving it gently over it.

“I can feel you perfectly…you're so fucking big inside me.” She moaned, beginning to rock back and forth in small movements, without breaking your skin-to-skin contact.

Each time the distance was greater, leaning back and returning forward until it collided with the palm of your hand, a sensation so wonderful that you couldn't describe it in words.

“You're so tight, I could cum at any moment.”

At that moment, Karina's hips began to rise and fall on your cock, riding you and giving you the vision of how your cock entered and left her pussy, each time more abruptly.

“Sorry darling, I would love to have a creampie from you, but sadly today it will be impossible.” She said between moans as she continued bouncing over your dick.

You had to be careful then, you thought internally, letting yourself be carried away more and more by the pleasure, grabbing and squeezing Karina's tits in your hands that were bouncing in the air with ferocious movements.

She rode you harder and faster with each ride. Now placing her feet on the bed and squatting over you, your hands traveled to her ass, pushing yourself even further, making your cock enter even deeper inside her, stirring her insides and making her scream with pleasure.

She continued like this for a few more minutes until suddenly she opened her eyes and mouth wide, suppressing a moan, and made eye contact with you again, completely clouded by pleasure.

“I'm cumming.” She announced riding your cock now in a crazy way and as if those words had turned on a switch in you, you also responded, giving the best you had.

“Fuck yes, just like that make me cum please, please, please…” The way she begged you, her face twisted with pleasure, her body trembling on yours. If there was a paradise after death, it must be something like this.

“Shit shit shit shit!” She screamed, standing on the bed and making your penis come out of her pussy, rubbing her hand frantically against the folds of her pussy, letting out a powerful jet of fluids over the sheets and over part of your crotch and abdomen. You couldn't believe what you had just experienced, Karina had squirted directly on you.

She fell to her knees on the bed, exhausted, trembling, with her legs closed as well as her eyes, breathing heavily, trying to recover from that intense orgasm.

You approached her from behind, surrounding her body in a hug and placing a kiss on her shoulder. She turned to you, smiling with a tired expression.

“That was…”

“The hottest thing I've ever seen in my life.” You interrupted her. “We can rest if you need it.”

Karina glanced at you over her shoulder before leaning over the bed, resting her palms and knees on the sheets, bringing her butt closer to rub against your cock.

“You said it yourself before…we don't have much time.”

You automatically groped her buttocks, and in response, she moved her ass at a faster pace, as if it were a dance. You grabbed your cock and lined it up with her entrance, penetrating her again, making you both moan again.

Karina's twerking didn't stop, not even when your hands gripped her waist, turning your thrusts into much more carnal movements, and causing your own hips to crash hard against her ass every time you buried your cock deep inside her.

The movement of the girl's ass was simply hypnotic, it seemed that her entire body was a sensual spectacle, made by and for the enjoyment of the sexual act.

Her moans of pure pleasure and her desperate pleas asking you for more and more did nothing but heat up the atmosphere even more, and increase your body temperature along with your lust.

You raised one of your hands and let it fall on Karina's buttock in a loud spank to her ass. She let out a small squeal and turned her head to look at you, with lasciviousness in her eyes that you had never seen before.

“Use my body all you want, tonight I'm yours.”

Without a shred of self-control to stop you or make you think at all, you grabbed a handful of her hair in your hand, pulling it back, making her moan. Karina's body sat up until her back was pressed against your torso. With your other arm you totally surrounded her stomach while your hips did not reduce the pace of the thrusts.

One of her arms wrapped around your head as you began to kiss and lick her neck. Your hand let go of her hair and held one of her breasts tightly, pressing her closer to you to prevent her from falling forward but taking advantage of the moment to squeeze it between your fingers.

After a few minutes you released her from your grip, returning to the initial position, not lasting too long there as you immediately pressed one of your hands on her back, forcing her to lie completely face down on the bed.

Your hands tightly gripped the sheet on each side of her head, your thrusts were deeper, burying the entirety of your cock inside Karina, who for some time could not stop moaning uncontrollably.

She tried to silence her moans by biting the sheet, but you instantly leaned gently on her to bring your mouth to her ear and whisper.

“Don't even think about it.” You said, putting a hand on her neck and making her turn her head to remove the sheet from her mouth. “I want to hear you scream.” You whispered in her ear, giving her another spank on her ass.

Karina left that position and turned around on her back, opening her legs for you, while you looked at her with some confusion in your expression. You could see how some tears welled up in her eyes.

“Do you want me to scream?” With the help of her hands, she opened the folds of her pussy, showing you how it was completely wet and dripping. “Then fuck me properly!”

She did not show anger, but her voice and expression were completely authoritative. You smiled when you saw her in that state and bent down to reinsert your member into her pussy.

Despite all your attacks on her tonight, her pussy was still fucking tight, squeezing your hard cock to the point of satiety. That didn't stop you from continuing to pound into her as if it were the last thing you were going to do in this life.

You continued attacking her mercilessly, lowering your head to lick her breasts and then going up to kiss her lips, while your fingers pinched her nipples.

You grabbed the back of her neck as your cock ceaselessly disappeared inside her body, and she rolled her eyes due to the pleasure she was receiving.

“Fuck me please, fuck me please, FUCK ME!” She desperately demanded while you felt the walls of her pussy contract. 

You came out of her, replacing your cock with your fingers, rubbing her folds in the same way she had done some time ago, achieving the same result, another huge jet of fluids straight from her pussy.

You didn't give her time to rest this time, as you grabbed her legs, pulling her to the edge of the bed, holding her body in your arms to lift her up and make her hug your body with you standing.

It seems that despite being tired, she anticipated your idea and surrounded your waist with her legs and your neck with her arms, also lifting her butt, allowing you to insert your penis into her more comfortably.

You grabbed her ass and started rocking her body upwards, making her bounce on your cock incredibly.  Your moans were silenced by your lips, devouring each other without mercy.

After a while you noticed how your legs were wobbly, your hands were clinging tightly to her butt and once again your penis seemed ready to unload everything you had inside.

“You're going to cum for me, right? I want your cum all over me” Karina smiled mockingly on your lips, caressing your hair and your cheeks, you could only nod your head.

“I need to make a mess in that pretty face you have.” She smiled widely.

You separated her from your body, being careful not to fall, and she quickly knelt in front of you, leaving her head at the height of your penis, which you were stroking violently while Karina waited for you on the floor, sticking out her tongue.

You finally released yourself and large streams of semen fell onto Karina's beautiful face, covering it almost entirely in a matter of seconds until you were completely empty.

“Fuck, you came so much.” Karina exclaimed, trying to clean the mess you had caused on her face with her hands, taking the opportunity to lick her fingers in the process.

On the other hand, you were exhausted, panting heavily trying to recover from the tremendous effort you had just made. Even so, you noticed some pressure on your member again, you looked down to discover Karina grabbing it with one hand.

“Let me help you.” She whispered, putting it back into her mouth and making movements with his tongue trying to collect as much of the fluid remains as possible, cleaning it.

“I'll be right back.” She said, standing up and walking past you towards the bathroom, earning a spank on her ass as a tip and turning to give you a satisfied smile before disappearing out the door.

You fell onto the bed, emitting a tired sigh, closing your eyes for a few moments, and seeking to rest your body. After a while you felt the bed move next to you, you opened your eyes and turned your head to the side, seeing how Karina, also now lying next to you, was looking at you penetratingly.

She smiled at you and came close to your body. You put an arm around her shoulder, allowing her to lie on your chest, which she caressed with the palm of her hand. With your free hand, you lifted her chin towards your face to kiss her sweetly.

Karina circled your neck and settled into her position, making the kiss increasingly passionate and needy, to the point where she was practically lying on top of you again. You broke apart, panting and smiling at each other.

“Can't we stop the time?” You asked, making her giggle. She approached your lips again, this time kissing you very slowly.

“Thank you for tonight, I really needed something like that.” She let her head fall between the crook of your head and your shoulder, and you hugged her, pressing her body against yours.

“I guess it all ends here, right?” You asked, caressing her hair, and she turned to you, planting a soft kiss on your cheek.

“I'm sorry…but let's do this.” She said, getting out of bed and walking over to grab something from her bag, a cell phone, and walked back to you. “Give me your number, let's stay in touch, you know, in case we meet again.” She said, winking at you and handing you the device.

"I'd love to." A huge smile formed on your lips as you recorded your contact on Karina's agenda. Once you finished, she snatched the phone from you, throwing it somewhere nearby on the bed, and climbed on top of you, kissing you again desperately.

“There are still a couple of hours until my flight departure, I have to be at my hotel before my staff wakes up, or I will be in trouble.”

“It's more than enough for me.” You whispered before returning to devour each other with renewed energy, it seems that your dreamy night still had another chapter to be written.

[mv1simp]

requested : dark mafia max!!

Devilish ♥️

Mafia!Max Verstappen x Reader

Girl who you tryna call, it’s a quarter past four, can’t nobody hear you scream right now

The Leeuw of Holland - or Mad Max, as he was referred to in his teen years - is well known for establishing his father's control over most of Eastern Europe. No one would dare to stand up to him for fear of losing their head - until you, the sweet daughter and lawyer of Monaco's mayor - who's determined to protect her small city from the Verstappen familia by putting the Leeuw behind bars.

Leeuw = Lion in Dutch

Content includes: 18+ MDNI, smut, mafia boss! Max falls for mayor’s daughter! Reader, reader is also a boss ass bitch, kidnapping, violence, explicit mention of murder/dead bodies/mutilation, nothing towards reader cuz maxie is a simp 🥰 9.5k WC omg my longest yet

You feel a shiver run up the back of your spine from where you stand in the high court. Knowing exactly who’s dark gaze is raking down your body, taking in your small figure that's stylishly dressed in a tight Chanel dress and matching heels, you deliberately keep your gaze fixed forward. The judge looks like he's about to have a heart attack, sweat dripping down his forehead as he glances back and forth between you - the fiercely passionate lawyer who'd presented the numerous charges on behalf of her father, the Mayor of Monaco - and to the tall, Dutch man who sat watching you with a cocky smirk. The blonde’s large thighs spread wide and the Leeuw of Holland, as he was famously named, looked far too calm for a man who'd just had 76 counts of murder brought forward against him.

You'd had no idea who the Dutch Lion was when you two had first met. You'd just returned with your law degree from college in America, only to find things in a state of disarray in the idyllic city of Monaco. Your father had always struggled to maintain his citizen's safety as the Mayor as the neighbouring Leclerc and Sainz familias battled for territory - but in your absence the now established, much bloodthirstier Verstappen familia had seized control of the profitable area. Monaco's location served as prime real estate to ship all the drugs and black money a criminal could wish for to the rest of Eastern Europe, and Jos Verstappen had personally sent his own son and underboss - Mad Max - to secure your father’s territory.

You'd head rumours, of course, even all the way abroad in the States, of this Verstappen heir. He was known for his rage and callous violence that earned his nickname, the perfect hitman for his cold, calculating father. You’d thanked your lucky stars you had never come face to face with him, because you were sure he would kill you - or worse, you think with a shudder - if he came across the Mayor of Monaco’s daughter. But after coming back home for the last two months and finding things in such upheaval, you became more determined to do right by your family’s citizens. Your mother - who had passed away when you were young, at the hands of a Sainz thug - had been very passionate about helping those who couldn’t protect themselves, so you always lived your life in a way you knew she would be proud of.

So that’s why you spent endless days poring over the city’s legislature and laws, overturning laws that had made civilian’s finances and livelihoods hard and submitting proposal after proposal of new laws that were severely harsh on crime. The locals quickly noticed the change from the Mayor’s office, and you became idolised as Monaco’s princessa.

Your father, bless him, although his heart was always in the right place, he had gotten too old to go head to head with the gangs, choosing to bargain with the gangs instead and buy his citizen’s safety that way. You argued that it was only a matter of time before Jos Verstappen showed up at your family’s doorstep to demand more and more from the city of Monaco - until he owned it himself. You were determined to catch him, or even better - catch his son, the one who’d inherit the Verstappen empire, and put a stop to this rapidly expanding mafia before it grew out of control. Your dedication to do right by your people inspired your father to once again champion for the safety of his city.

And for a while, everything seemed to be flowing smoothly. You’d set up many a new school, local trade centres and businesses, and even medical clinics by using money redirected from paying off the gangs to keep your citizens safe. Life was thriving for the first time in a decade in Monaco. You’d even found your own small peaceful spot of solace in the chaotic city, behind one of your new clinics where a collection of streetcats would assemble. You fed them dutifully, coming daily in your lunch breaks and laughing delightedly when you saw one of them had kittens. But one day when you’d been late due to a court hearing, you’d been surprised to see that the cats had already been happily munching on some freshly ground tuna meat. It was good quality too, very expensive to come by these days, your keen eye noted from being born into the luxury of a Mayor’s daughter. You smiled sweetly and fondly patted the purring cats’ ears. Someone else found you too adorable to resist too, hmm?

From then on, whenever you’d come feed the cats, you’d always look around curiously, wanting to see if you could find that person - but you never did. And then, one day, you stumbled across an impossibly cute scene of a tall blond man, clearly broad shouldered and muscular even though he was casually dressed in a hoodie and jeans. He was warmly laughing as he held one of the cats in his arms while another yowled at his legs, wanting to also be picked up. Oh! You clapped your red manicured hands excitedly as you ran over, all sense of stranger danger forgotten as canoodling with streetcats wasn’t really a common mafia thug activity. The man’s head had slightly tilted towards you as soon as you had appeared on the other end of the street, but he turned to greet you fully as the sound of your dainty Chanel heels clicks against the pavement. You’d energetically started talking about how nice it was to finally meet whoever had been spoiling the cats, wasn’t it so cute how there were even kittens now? But when you finally drew your eyes away from the purring feline in his thick arms, you couldn’t help but blush at the curious blue-eyed gaze on his handsome face.

You introduced yourself, apologising for being rude, and after setting down the cat, he took your small hand in his own much large, warm palm. You flushed again as he raised it to his lips, leaving a gently kiss in a very traditional Monaco fashion, introducing himself as Emilian. You formed a quick friendship with him, eager to talk to someone your age after spending so much time with stuffy politicians all day. You find yourself excited to run into the gorgeous blonde on your lunch breaks, to laugh about some of the playfights you’d witnessed between the cats, or other times talk passionately about the current state of government affairs. Emilian, like many of the jaded younger generation, held a strong disdain for your father’s office and its weak position towards protecting citizens. In a somber moment you’d both realised you’d lost your mothers to the hands of the Sainz familia. But you passionately argued for your cause, remaining fiercely loyal to the goverment office of Monaco, spending your lunch hour easily talking about the many legal and restructuring plans you’d been working with the council to establish that had already improved so many household’s livelihoods. Emilian couldn’t help but quirk his attractive lips as he leaned a head on his palm, content to watch you animatedly talk for hours. The two of you sat across the waterfront, enjoying a late afternoon danish pasty in the lazy Monaco sun. When you’d turned the conversation to him, curiously asking what exactly he did, he dismissed it as per usual, vaguely mentioning something about working in the security business.

You eyed him suspiciously, imagining that like many young men in the area he’d turned to dabbling in underground business to support his family. It always started as selling the occasional party drug for profit or working as hired muscle for a night, sure, but you’d seen innocents with good hearts get sucked into the murderous world of gang violence too often. You definitely weren't just going to sit by and let someone as gentle and sweet as Emilian fall prey to it - the man had 3 separate albums on his phone dedicated to the stray cats, for God's sake! You told him this earnestly, even gently brushing your hand across his as you offered him a job as a bodyguard instead. Your father had been making more public appearances lately as the public perception grew positive of the Mayor’s office.

Emilian had hummed, contemplating, his gorgeous blue eyes glancing at where your small palm had grasped onto his much larger one. Then he’d reached across the cafe table to tuck a stray curl behind your ear, making a pretty blush spread across your caramel sun-kissed skin. So cute, he’d said, his lips quirking into a gentle smile. You promptly forgot all about what you’d been trying to convince him on as your eyes drifted down to his lips instead, the rising fluttering of romantic feelings swirling in your stomach. He’d gotten a phone call then and sighed, telling you he’d see you later, leaving after another kiss to your fingers. You’d pouted, feeling like you were crushing a lot harder on the handsome blonde than he was on you.

Next time when you met him, though, the only feeling you had was panic and fear as you saw him slumped against your stray cat’s alleyway, blood quickly oozing from a stab wound to his abdomen. You’d forced yourself to hold back a scream and avoid attracting attention in the quickly darkening evening, grabbing a hold of Emilian’s soft jumper and tugging him with you to your clinic. He’d held firm, far stronger than you even with a goddamn knife wound that was bleeding so much, oh my god-

He told you to leave, because whoever had done this was likely still in the vicinity, would see you two walking into the clinic and then would target you too. You hissed at him that he was crazy if he thought you would ever abandon him like that and if that’s what he was worried about you’d take the back alley route to your downtown apartment then! He’d finally given in, now looking paler from the blood loss and making you internally freak out. As you guided him into your cute 2nd floor apartment, all warm lighting and trailing pot plants, he smirked and murmured that if this was all it took to get you to invite him back to your place, he’d have gotten stabbed a lot sooner.

Shut up, you’d blushed, setting him down on your bathroom floor and grabbing your extensive first aid kit. Secretly though, you were glad that he still felt well enough to make jokes like that. You miss how his ice blue eyes intently watch you compress his wound, relieved that it hadn’t gone too deep into his body to injure his organs, and biting your lip with concentration as you slowly stitched the wound. Later, when you’d been nursing a glass of whiskey to settle your nerves, your many lamps casting a glow across your face, you’d answered his questions about how you learnt to fix an injury. You told him about how powerless you’d felt when you’d seen your mother be stabbed to death in front of you, how your child sized hands couldn’t stop the bleeding and you had never wanted to feel so useless ever again.

You hadn’t realized your mind had wandered back to that memory, triggered by Emilian’s own blood that you’d scrubbed thrice over from your own hands tonight. When you felt his warm hand run across your clenched ones, soothing the tension, your for eyes focused back to look at his contemplative gaze. You’d never thought you’d see the handsome man sitting in your apartment like this, now shirtless as you’d thrown his bloodied one away. You averted your gaze, suddenly feeling shy despite the desire coursing through you, secretly glad he had declined your offer of your pink pastel knit to cover up with so you could enjoy the view of his broad, muscled shoulders.

Tilting your head back up to look at him, Emilian murmured that he was indebted to you, that you would always be under his protection. His words send a flutter through your heart, although frankly you're not sure how he was meant to protect you when you were the one with access to security resources as the Mayor's daughter. But still, his words have an undertone of assured confidence to them and you find your eyes drifted down to his lips again. You're ecstatic when he breaks the tension and finally leans in, giving you what you'd been wanting for a few weeks now as he captures your lips in a passionate kiss. He definitely knows what he’s doing, and soon you're sweetly moaning into his mouth and grinding onto his skilled, thick fingers that have slipped into your jeans and pulled your panties to the side. He brings you to bliss within minutes, and you can't resist pressing yourself closer to him as you come down from your high. You want to make him feel good, too, but your hands accidentally brush against his stab wound and you don't miss his low, painful hiss. Pulling back immediately, you apologise profusely, worriedly looking over his bandages again to make sure there was no bleeding. He chuckles, telling you he was fine, you were very welcome to continue?

Flushing, you told him that you'd had a slip in judgement and were not going to put his already hurt body through any more accidental pain tonight. He pouted rather cutely as you stood up, grabbing some spare blankets and pillows for him to stay on the couch. Not having your hands on him was far more painful than the stab wound, he says teasingly, making you blush. You felt a little embarrassed at how quickly things had progressed tonight, unable to keep your head on straight around the handsome tall Blonde in front of you. You give him a firm goodnight, but just before you enter your bedroom, you turn to shyly tell him that you’d like to return the favour and make him feel good when he had healed. Grinning at your cute, blushing face, Emilian’s ocean look eyes look at you fondly as he lowly murmurs that he’ll look forward to it, shcatje.

That night you dream about handsome men in mysterious alleyways, who pin you to the wall and pepper your neck with soft kisses that turn hungrier and hungrier. You’re gasping and asking for more, please, please as his strong hands roughly palm your ass, your tits-

You wake with a start in your now empty apartment, Emilian’s name on your lips. Late morning light floods through your windows as you curiously notice the empty sofa, where a blanket is neatly folded up. Your face brightens when you see a note, that reads sorry I left without a goodbye kiss, schatje, the cats were getting possessive.

Rolling your eyes at his usual mysterious antics, you toss his note into the bin. But you’re humming as you went about your morning routine, buzzing with excitement at the thought of seeing the attractive blonde later on. But oddly, Emilian hasn’t been in your usual spot that afternoon, and you look around with concern as the cats meow at your feet, wanting to be fed. When he isn’t there the next day either, or the day after, you’ve started to get very worried now, wondering if something had gone wrong with his wound or worse - the man who had stabbed him had decided to retaliate with more gang members this time. You’d been thinking about it so much that you decide to the police station that day and asking the chief to look for the Dutchman who's found his way into your heart.

It turns out that Emilian’s safety was not something you needed to be concerned with. Because the one who has been in danger was not the mysterious blonde, but instead you, who had unknowingly caught the attention of many mafioso in the area by protecting him. You realised this when you came home from your visit to the police station, only to find your front door unlocked. You'd barely taken a step inside when you’re pushed against the wall by a heavily pierced man you’d never see before. The mocking silver pendant that he wore around his neck, of a horse rearing, signified his alliance with the LeClerc familia. You’d been unable to control the tears running down your face when he'd painfully begun choking you, demanding to know where the hell Max was. When you’d tried to tell them you had no clue what he was referring to, he just tightened his harsh grip on you to slam you against the wall again. You cry out in pain, bruises already forming along your delicate hands from the intruder's grip, as you keep trying to plead and explain you didn't know who they were talking about. A part of you knew there must be some link between this Max they were looking for, and your Emilian - but you sure as hell were not going to tell these criminals a single thing.

You swallow your fear and try to bargain with them, offering money, access to shipping resources, security - all things you could provide in your role as the mayor's daughter, you insisted. But they laughed it off, confusing you when they said currently, you were the most sought after bargaining chip for the gangs in Southern Europe. And everything had faded to black then, after one of them pressed an acidic smelling cloth over your nose.

When you woke up, hours later and with a pounding head, you're in an unfamiliar room. You groggily sit up, and find yourself instantly alarmed by the thick ropes tied tightly around your wrists. At least they hadn't tied your legs, too, you think with relief, sitting up in the dark room - only to come eye to eye with the barrel of a gun. Ah, that explained it - apparently they thought you were such a precious commodity they'd assigned someone to literally guard you with a gun. You're still confused, unsure why suddenly these street criminals seem interested in kidnapping the Mayor's daughter. Everyone knew who really held the power in Monaco - the Verstappen familia.

You get your answer then, when the sound of gunshots start filling the air from outside your room. You look up in alarm, and your guard eyes the door warily. He growls at you to not to move an inch as he leaves to go investigate, closing the door behind him. You flinch as more and more gunshots fill the air, accompanied by screams and yells. And then, when it becomes eerily silent for minutes on end, you wonder if this is your chance to escape amidst whatever chaos was going on. You're nervously peering around the hallways, finding yourself in a creepy, abandoned looking mansion - somewhere probably on the outskirts of the Monaco township, if you had to guess. Moonlight is the only thing lighting the way as you try to quietly navigate your way out of the winding hallways. It's strange, there had been so any gunshots but you had yet to see a single person anywhere-

And that's where you saw it, around the next corner. Scattered haphazardly throughout the hallway, illuminated by moonlight shining through the large window, lay body after body, all freshly dead with expressions of terror still on their faces. And then, soft murmurs from the opposite end of the hallways, as three men rounded it - and you finally find your missing Dutchman. Emilian? You whisper breathlessly, half reassured to find him alive and half confused at what he was doing inside a property that clearly belonged to the LeClercs. He stops abruptly, halting the two men behind him as he stares at you with a look of pure relief. He was dressed so differently to his usual casual attire, too, with his blond locks slicked back, wearing a fitted white shirt and dress pants, and an expensive looking black overcoat that highlighted his tall, broad frame. You'd looked puzzled at the large watch on his wrist - a renowned luxury brand you recognised from the many elite charity galas you'd attended. Well out of the yearly income someone like Emilian would make in...what had he said? Security?

You're so perplexed at the sudden appearance of the half a million Euro worth watch that you don't even notice the sleek gun in his hand, until he's raising it up and pointing it straight at you. Don't move, schatje, he murmurs, his deep voice carrying across the hallway. And those ocean blue eyes of his that you'd fallen in love with were now ice cold, without a trace of any human emotion behind them. Your own doe eyes widen in fear, tears gathering, because you have no idea who the man standing in front of you is, just who you’d fallen in love with - and now he's going to kill you. You don't even get time to flinch when he's pulling the trigger. But to your surprise the bullet never hits you. Instead, you hear a thump behind you - and turn to see a body fall to the ground, his own gun that had been raised towards you clattering across the floor.

You'd stood frozen in fear, silently shaking and willing yourself not to pass out from the sheer amount of blood that pooled onto the floor, staining your pretty white Chanel heels. And then a tall figure is at your side, guiding you away from the horrifying sight with a large palm in the small of your back. His warm hands making quick work of the ropes that still bind your hands. His familiar voice is murmuring to you gently that you he was here, you’re safe now, schat and no one was going to hurt you again. You’re finally pulled out of your frozen shock when you feel his touch. You look down at large palms softly rubbing the red marks on your skin from where the rope had dug into your skin.

You're outside now, standing in the moonlit gravel in front of the eerie mansion, with an equally haunted looking garden around you. The chill of the night time air helps you start clarifying your racing thoughts. I don’t think Emilian is your real name, you begin. And for a casual security hire to wear a Patek Philippe watch...who are you, really? You finally ask, your voice surprisingly firm despite fear coursing through your veins. He sighs, draping his thick black overcoat over your shaking figure, the clothing completely dwarfing you.

You’re a very smart woman, liefje, he murmurs lowly, his intense gaze studying your face. He tells you that he's sure you've probably already figured it out by now. Releasing a deep breath, you recount his Dutch origins, clear as day in his deep accented voice and blonde locks, and the fact that he obviously had an established presence in one of the mafioso gangs. Most likely the Verstappen familia, then. He was high up enough to have command of his own group of men, the ones you now spotted through various windows, no doubt cleaning up the piles of dead bodies in the house. He watches you with a small grin on his face, enjoying how even if this frightening situation you were able to gather evidence and form a logical conclusion. And when you told him your theory - that he was not Emilian but Nicolas Hulkenberg, left hand man to Jos Verstappen, he chuckled, telling you almost fondly that you were so close. He was in the Verstappen family, and he was high up in the chain of command - but Nico's my cousin. He'd probably have a hissy fit at being confused with me, the handsome blonde in front of you mused. The new information sends a jolt through you, because even though your knowledge of the gangs is not extensive, if this man was Nicolas Hulkenberg's cousin, then...

Max Verstappen. Your breathless voice gives away the fear rising within you as your doe eyes widen in shock. You instinctively take a step back as the infamous underboss of the Verstappen familia takes a step closer to you, tilting his head like a lion eyeing up his prey, looking very much like the Dutch Leeuw he’s famously named for. Max Emilian Verstappen, he corrects, saying that most people didn't know the middle name - making it a useful nickname in public.

It's certainly more discreet than Mad Max, you reply hotly, rage and betrayal now replacing your earlier fear as you realise just how deceived you'd been. The man standing in front of you was no innocent citizen, or anyone to be protected. No - he was set to inherit the richest and most powerful gang family in the continent. Max's ice blue eyes narrow at your hurt expression, at the tears that are now running down your cheeks as you tell him what as absolute psychopath he was, to use and manipulate you into helping him, just because - you gasp, sobbing uncontrollably now - just because I'm the mayor's daughter? And you wanted to know about my redevelopment plans!? Max's heart aches at seeing you so upset, and he softly tells you it wasn't meant to be like this, you weren't meant to find out so unexpectedly. All of the heated looks and sweet words he’d spoken to you were real, because he’d fallen in love with you, too. But those Leclerc bastards had gotten their hands on you, wanting a bargaining chip and thinking you were something disposable to be used and tied up - A dark expression has taken over Max’s face now, storm clouds in his steely eyes. He'd let your captors off far too easily, he says menacingly. A shiver runs through you as you remember that the man standing in front of you had earned his title not just through family blood, but with his status of a deadly hitman with the highest kill rate this side of the globe.

Well, never mind, he drawls nonchalantly, his observant gaze not missing the fear in your sweet doe eyes that you tried desperately to supress. He was sure the Leclercs had gotten the message that you were not someone they could touch so casually. You were under Max’s personal protection, after all - he was indebted to you. Like he predicted, your Monegasque pride didn't take the offer from your political enemy kindly. You tell him to fuck off, Verstappen, you didn’t need his protections and he could just stay the hell away. He laughs at the fire in your brown eyes that’s returned in full force, glad you no longer had the lost, glassy stare he’d found you with earlier. Refusing to let him drive you home, you demand he hand over the keys to that S Class Mercedes parked in the driveway that you assumed was his, given the outrageous price tags and the bulletproof glass. He presents them to you with a smirk, watching you take off after shooting him a furious expression over your shoulder.

Of course, he wasn’t going to let you out of his sight ever again, not after you’d been hurt. You didn’t know about the guards he had assigned to you at all times, but you did receive a package a few days later. Unboxing the black and white designer wrapping, you tried to remember if you’d ordered something and forgotten about it. But when you see the identical Chanel heels you’d been wearing the night everything had happened, a new pair to replace your old, blood stained ones, you knew exactly who had sent them to you. You shove the box to the back of your closet and scowl as you continue about your research of collating the list of charges to bring against Max Verstappen.

So now, a month later, you see him for the first time since your kidnapping. It’s in the courtroom where you confidently list our your extensive evidence condemning the Leuw of Holland - who’s intense gaze you can feel raking over your well dressed form. You’re stunned when the judge, who’s sweated through his wig and gone through 3 jugs of water from all his nervous gulping, anxiously says that he finds the accused, Max Emilian Verstappen, not guilty. You knew that the Verstappens were powerful, had connections in every place and access to unlimited money - but to buy off the judge of the Monaco Supreme Court, really, Max? Have you no integrity? You hiss at him, much to the shock of onlookers as they see the Monaco Princess go toe to toe with the son of the Verstappen Familia. Good to see you too, schatje, the Dutch Lion croons at you, enjoying the frustrated blush on your face from his sweet nickname. Can’t say I’m a fan of going to jail for offing a few bastards, no. Besides, those Leclerc goons definitely deserved it for putting their hands on my woman. You gasp, stammering out your response as he catches you off guard. You were not his woman, and he had no right to call you that-

Sure, whatever you say, schat. He’d given you enough space - over a month, and he missed having you by his side every day. You’d gotten your revenge with this whole dramatic court case - one that he would never have allowed anyone to go so far with, slitting their carotids well before any court date was set. Now, it was time for Max to have his fun with you again, and this time he doesn’t have to hide behind the mystery facade. Wear that pretty little pink nightdress you wore for me that time I stayed over, hmm?

You flush prettily again, giving him a venomous glare before storming off. Cute, he thinks as your heels click on the marble floor. He admires the view of your lush ass in the tight pencil skirt you wore. He’s thinking about what colour lingerie he should have sent to you to match the heels you’d worn today, all dressed up for him - when the Mayor of Monaco approaches him. Your father looks very suspicious as he shuffled from side to side, asking Max if he would like to join him for a drink that evening.

Max watches him stoically, agreeing to a meeting only out of respect for him as your father. Otherwise, he wouldn’t care less about the puppet leader of Monaco. Everyone knew who the real power lay with, after all. So he isn't surprised when the pathetic excuse of the man who calls himself your father offers you up as a trade in exchange for the return of some of the power the Verstappens have stolen. Your father had heard the rumours of how infatuated the Verstappen heir had become with the Princess of Monaco - and was happy to just hand you over. A political marriage, of course, so that your father was guaranteed to have a familial link into the powerful new family. And if Max was no longer interested in you, then your father was sure there would be no shortage of buyers in the Leclerc and Sainz families who had become aware of the new princessa thrown into their game.

Max narrowed his ice blue eyes at the pitiful father figure in front of him, his attention finally caught with this new threat to your safety. And from your only living family member, no less - the one who you'd painstakingly resurrected from political ruin. God, the Mayor of Monaco was almost as bad as Jos. But then again, Jos had never pretended to be something he was not. Your father, on the other hand, was someone who you loved and cherished dearly. It would break your heart to see him hurt - even though he was now trying to sell you off to become a mafia bosses's wife without your knowledge.

Good thing your daughter got her fire from her mother, the Verstappen heir says coldly, his voice commanding enough that it makes the Mayor gulp nervously. Since her father clearly has no balls. Max doesn't respond well to threats - he much prefers making them, instead. And although he wanted to do nothing more than leave a bullet inside the Mayor's chest, he wouldn't touch your father out of respect for you.

So instead, when he gets word that evening of another secret hit out for you, he takes this as the oppurtunity to take you under his protection - permanently. He wouldn't allow your father to marry you off to one of the many ruthless mafiosos in the region. This time, the abduction attempt comes from the once powerful Hamilton-Rosberg family who were trying to restablish their hold after Max Verstappen himself had tobbled them from the inside. You'd impressed Max by fending off the first few attackers with the handgun you now kept at your bedside, injuring them but avoiding any critical areas as you ran out your fire escape. Good girl, Max thought with pride as his men relayed the situation to him over the phone. But you'd not expected the attackers waiting for you at the end of back alleyway. You were out of bullets, and closed your eyes in resignation as you prepared for what you were sure would be a nasty end...

When that infuriatingly attractive, confident Dutch voice appears at your side. Missed me, schatje? Max Verstappen makes quick work of the men who dared to attempt laying a hand on you. This time he rips one of their heart out, rather gruesomely, before shoving it inside the dead man's mouth. A very clear warning to all others who went after you again - since apparently the massacre at the Leclerc mansion had not been enough.

You're snifling and shaking when Max returns to your side, your back firmly to him to avoid seeing the horrific sight. And when he sighs softly again, draping his familiar, warm coat over our shoulders, you ask him if he was here to kill you, too. You'd realised that many of Max's enemy gangs had started to come after you, hoping to use your connection to the Verstappen heir against him. Of course, for a man as coldly efficient and powerful as Max - it made sense to eliminate any source of weakness to his status. But the enemy Dutch Lion you'd somehow fallen for suprises you once again. Brushing a stray curl behind your ear, and wiping away the tears now gathering in the corner of your wide eyes, Max gently murmurs No, schatje. He was going to marry you.

Shock courses through you, as you gasp at his unexpected confession. But then everything is going blurry, and the last thing you remember is his ocean blue eyes, looking into yours with their familiar warmth and intensity. The next time you wake up, you're in Max's private jet, somewhere over the Mediterranean Sea. You’re panicked, trying to angrily demand that he take you back, but whatever drugs he’d had given to you make your efforts futile. You’re slumping tiredly against his broad shoulders after a few minutes, his strong arms around you, falling into a deep sleep as he murmurs reassurances that he was doing this for your own protection.

And when you wake up again, he’s made sure that it’s goddamn near impossible for you to run away. Because he has you on a godforsaken large private island of the Sicilian Coast, a beautiful place surrounded by turquoise beaches and dotted with ancient temple ruins mixed in amongst trendy Italian boutiques. It’s the sort of place you would normally be enraptured by - but in the week you’ve been here you’ve been plotting escape attempt after attempt.

Of course, you’d argued with Max every night when he returned from whatever shady business he’d conducted during the day, taking his private plane. You put your law degree to good use with the heated debates over the dinner table as he watched you with an adoring grin, finding your ever present energy and passion captivating. It had made you flush and look away from his gorgeous eyes. You stabbed into the deliciously flavoured lobster pasta in front of you, hating how your stomach did backflips when Max looked at you in this way. Your heart and brain felt like they were at odds with one other constantly, torn between the gentle, cat loving Emilian you’d fallen in love with and this protective, commanding Max who you couldn’t deny your growing desire for. Confidence greatly suited the Dutch Leuw, who now came back to the mansion he kept you in dressed in a black suits and wristwatches that was no doubt worth the combined income of a middle class family. But at dinner, with just the two of you over the flickering candlelight each night, enjoying the Italian summer air, he’d be in those cozy soft tees and loose linen shirts you’d always liked because of how they showed off his broad arms. Meanwhile, you pointedly only wear the plainest and drab outfits you could find in the luxurious walk in closet you’d been given. You’d gotten shocked as you opened each drawer in the room, finding it filled to the brim with designer clothes and luxury bags and heels, all in your favourite brand and colours and with matching jewellery in gold - as if it had been curated specifically for your tastes. At least he had the decency to give you private living quarters, you supposed. One night over fresh seafood paella he teasingly asked if you didn’t like all the clothes he’d had ordered for you, schat, because he can have more delivered? You scathingly tell him to stop being such a stalker, did he even know how creepy it was to find all your favourite items in that closet when you’d never even told him about them?

Blue eyes darken at your bratty note, but you aren’t nervous of Max anymore - even through the Leuw of Holland had been notorious for terrorizing your hometown streets. You’d realised that for some reason or the other, you were more precious to him than you’d ever imagined. It made you hesitate and wonder if maybe there was some truth to the romantic feelings he’d confessed to having for you, the night of the Leclerc mansion bloodbath. Forgive me for wanting you to feel comfortable here, schatje Max responded coolly, drinking from his whiskey glass. You argue back that a girl couldn’t possibly feel comfortable if she was kidnapped and help captive by a man who had technically led to her family’s ruin. And if you expect me to get dressed up for you, so that you can have your way with me…you can forget it! You retort angrily, face flushing.

Now smirking into his palm, Max assures you that despite his reputation, he promises to be the perfect gentleman. He’d never lay a hand on you…not unless you begged him too, first. His cocky tone made it clear he thought you found him impossible to resist. The playful look in his gorgeous blue eyes makes you bite your plush lips as you remember the last time Max had placed his large palm on your very willing body in an intimate way. After all, you'd sounded so sweet when you kept moaning for more when you came on my fingers within minutes, remember schat? The blonde teases you, clearly also thinking back to the same night you were. Standing up abruptly, you hotly retort with a Last time, I'd also been asking for Emilian, not Max Verstappen, before dramatically flipping your thick curls and storming off. The Dutch Lion watches you go with an amused chuckle, once again enjoying the view of your curvy ass even despite the horrid pants you were wearing. Same man, schat! he calls out to your retreating back, to which you respond with a well mannered middle finger in the air.

Your game continues like this over the month. As the days pass, you start to become more relaxed with Max. You still get flashes of the cold eyed Mafioso heir when you catch him on the phone angrily discussing a business deal, or when you spot a fleck of red on his pristine white designer shirts when he returns from being out. But your heart gets confused when you also see the gentle and caring Emilian when he's with you, who chooses to make your favourite breakfast every morning despite the full staffing in his mansion, who feeds and walks the dogs he has running around his gardens and plays with the snarky housecats. And when you'd woken up in the middle of the night crying in terror from the memory of seeing all those bloodied dead men in the Leclerc mansion, Max had been the one to hear your cries and storm into your bedroom. He'd taken you into his broad, warm arms, and you'd buried your sobs in his neck as he murmured reassurances of how you were safe now, you had nothing to ever worry about with him at your side. When you'd woken up the next morning, finding Max's toned chest underneath your cheek from where you'd both fallen asleep in your bed, a bit of your drool on his shirt, your heart swirled with conflicting emotions. You hated how safe and protected you feel in his embrace, knowing that this domestic bliss lifestyle with one of the most handsome and richest men you've ever met was something he'd kidnapped you for.

Still though, as you get more comfortable, you negotiate for more freedom with Max. You're an excellent lawyer, and now that you were temporarily out of your political position, you were going crazy sitting inside the mansion or walking it's beautiful gardens everyday. Max hadn't allowed you to go anywhere else without him at your side, his intense gaze eyeing any potential threat that approached the pair of you. Not that anyone did - the aura the Dutch Lion radiates was so powerful you kept wondering just how you'd thought he was some soft-spoken young citizen needing your help and guidance. So when Max reluctantly agrees to let you go outside without him - it's with the rule of 5 trained bodyguards at all times, of course. You roll your eyes but let them trail behind you as you terrorise the multiple designer stores dotted on the large island with Max's black Amex. It was the least he could do considering he had basically abducted you, you think with a smirk, as you watch the total at just the jewellery store alone add up to over half a million Euro. The Verstappen security guards nervously sweat behind you.

However, their boss has no such qualms. Max lets you spend his money however you wanted, thinking you were finally starting to accept his offer of marriage and coming under his permanent protection. So you surprised him a few weeks later when you finally made an escape attempt. The island was actually much bigger than you'd initially thought, and you found there was a small population of a few thousand elite, rich Italians living on the other side. That's where you headed too that afternoon, having picked a day where Max was away on business. You escaped the watchful eye of your bodyguards and ran towards the first policeman you saw. Confessing that you'd been kidnapped, and you needed help urgently to get back to Monaco where your father was Mayor, you'd been relieved when they guided you into their policecar with concerned looks. You thought they were going to help get you on a plane back to your hometown - but to your shock they drive you back the Verstappen mansion. With a sinking feeling you realised that the influence your captor had went beyond anything you could have thought possible.

You had barely managed to get away for an hour - in fact, Max hadn't even landed back in the island yet. When he did arrive that evening, having been told by his men of what you'd attempted that day, he strides into his private living room to find you. He dismissed everyone standing guard, and for the first time since you'd come here you note that he actually looked annoyed with you. You shuffle your hips nervously, from where you're seated on the low chaise. To your embarrassment, the policemen had even put a pair of handcuffs on you that Max's guards hadn't bothered removing, and they clink noisily in your lap. The handsome blonde towers above your seated figure, tilting your face up with his firm hand as he glowers at you. He's angry, and he lets you know it, telling you how stupid it was of you to compromise your safety like this, did you even know how hard it had been for him to find out when he'd been 3 hours away by plane and couldn't protect you!? Logically, you know that you should feel terrified of having pissed off a cold hearted man like Max Verstappen. But you're tuning his words out, instead biting your bottom lip at seeing him get so passionate over you. You couldn't deny that despite everything, the man in front of you was so attractive with his muscular, tall build and gorgeous light features - just your type, and the object of many a dirty fantasy in the last few months. Even after you'd found out his true identity as a Verstappen - not that you'd ever admit it to him.

But of course, Max's keenly observant gaze doesn't miss a thing. He sees it all - the way you press your thighs together, the delicious thickness easy for him to enjoy with the ridiculously overpriced Prada miniskirt you're wearing. So tiny that at this angle, with his much taller height, he catches a glimpse of your white lace panties - which are soaked straight through to reveal your dripping pussy. He smirks, knowing there was a far more effective way to punish you now. He gets his confirmation when he leans down to huskily murmur in your ear how much of a bad girl you'd been, how he clearly needs to teach you a lesson, thoroughly, so you don't disobey him again. You blush prettily, tits heaving with the gasp you let out as your eyes become dazed thinking about finally letting Max have his way with you, giving up all control and letting him take over, would feel like - after months of agonising tension.

He has you right where he wants, and he doesn't let you forget his promise. Not until you're begging me to touch you, remember liefje? he whispers darkly, his lips barely brushing your forehead as he leaves you pouting in frustration to go take a shower. He'd figured you'd angrily brood over his teasing for a few days, but when he emerges from the bathroom, he finds you sitting on his bed. Max looks especially mouth watering in grey sweats and dripping wet, tousled blonde locks and his broad, muscular chest. Rubbing your plush thighs together again, you hold up your handcuffs, innocently telling him you were only here to get free, nothing else, of course! The raw strength he uses to break the cuffs open with just his large hands has you holding back a breathless whine. God, this man was so insanely attractive, and you weren't going to be able to resist him much longer.

That's why you play back at this teasing game, making sure he's watching you with narrowed blue eyes and crossed arms, biceps swollen, as you strut through the shared door to your own bedroom. You leave the door wide open as you rustle through one of the many overflowing drawers - picking out a sheer La Perla pink nightie with matching lace panties. And when you nonchalantly hum as you make your way back to his rooms, shutting the lights off and leaving the warm bedside lamps on, you slip into his inviting comforter. He watches your whole show with a clenched jaw and unamused expression, telling you that you were playing with fire, schat.

You bat your thick eyelashes at him innocently, tossing your dark curls over your shoulder as you deny any mischief. Just in case I get any nightmares, of course! He doesn't buy it for a second, but still reluctantly slides in next to you. You remain on your best behaviour, reading a novel you'd picked out and ignoring Max, who was trying his best to ignore the skimpy outfit he knew you had underneath the covers and focus on the budgeting spreadsheet open on his laptop. After all, mafia gangs still had to keep track of their finances.

And then, just when he lets his guard down for a second and is typing away, you begin your revenge. Your book is tossed to the side and your manicured hands are running over your sensitive body, squeezing your juicy tits and rubbing your aching cunt through the sheer lace. The Leuw of Holland is left powerless for the first time in his adult life as the covers fall away, exposing your tempting caramel skin, contrasting with the pretty pink lingerie he’d bought for you. Your brown doe eyes are half lidded with desire as you watch him swallow at the tempting display in front of him, his hungry eyes honing in on the way you played with yourself. When he asks you what the fuck you were doing, his voice low and deep, you tease him more by saying he'd never said anything about you not being able to touch yourself, right? Maybe you’d let him touch you, too, if he was the one begging-

He growls like a literal lion, then, making you giggle as he watches you with a desperate look in his eyes that’s making you even more turned on. He gives up when you slip the sheer fabric down over your tits, showcasing your pretty tanned nipples that pebbled in the night air. Liefje, he groans, pressing his lips to your thick curls and his large hand to a rapidly hardening erection, please let me touch you, let me take care of you…

His husky voice sends shivers down your already warm skin, and you can’t deny your need for him any longer either. Wrapping a delicate hand around his much bigger wrist, you slowly guide him over your body, making his intense gaze go dark with desire. You brush his thick fingers over your pink lips, where you teasingly flick your tongue out and make him groan, then down across your neck so he can admire how pretty you look with his hand as a choker, then over your bouncing tits as you breathe deeply. He can’t resist pinching a cute nipple, this time making you moan, but it’s still not where you need him most. And then you’re guiding him over your soft tummy, over your plush hips, and then-

Oh, fuck schatje. Max's intoxicating, accented voice moans into your ear, making you drip even more for him. You’re so wet for me, this sweet pussy needs me to take care of it so badly, hmmm? You whine breathlessly, nodding impatiently as his long fingers brush against your swollen cunny. You’re dripping through your skimpy panties, which are practically stuck to you now. The attractive blonde next to you has no inhibitions about manhandling you easily, ripping the scraps of lace off and tossing the ruined hundreds of Euros to the side. Bringing your slick cunt to his lips, he licks them attractively as he stares up at your blushing face with hungry eyes. You stammer nervously, never having been eaten out before, but he couldn’t care less. He dips his skilled tongue into your soaked pussy, inhaling in your addictive sweet scent as you gasp and moan. His strong hands lock your rocking hips in position as he fucks you with his broad tongue, lapping up the sweet juices your cunny gushes out for him. You’re in tears from how amazing it feels, especially when he buries his large nose or a thick finger knuckle deep, and soon you’re intertwining your pink nails in his blonde locks as he once again makes you scream in name in pure pleasure. This time though, he’s much more satisfied because you’re desperately moaning his real name. Oh, Max! Please!

Days later, when you and him have formed a legal agreement of sorts, where you accept his protection against the ongoing threat of rival gangs and he agrees to let you resume your legal career, you fly back to Monaco with him at your side. He slid a hefty diamond engagement ring onto your finger, and you’re still shocked by how pretty it looks, glimmering in the light. Still, it was only temporary, you had no plans to actually marry the man. A union between the Princess of Monaco and the all consuming Verstappen Mafia heir who’d been responsible for stripping her city of its livelihood was a cursed match!

So when you excitedly run straight to your father’s home when you land, the Verstappen bodyguards in tow as per their boss’s instructions. You fling the doors open, shouting for your papa. The mayor of Monaco looks up in shock, thrown back a bit when you jump into his arms and tell him you missed him dearly, had he been keeping safe? He’d delighted you are safe of course, and tells you so numerous times over dinner, and then later when you two are poring over the city redevelopment plans. You’d been away for over two months now, and a lot had to be caught up with in your absence.

But when he continues that really, when he’d made the offer to Max he’d half expected to never see you again - after all, the Dutch Leuw of Holland was known to be ruthless. When you freeze, papers falling from your hand as you look at him in shock, he realises that your fiancée had never actually disclosed to you the circumstances under which he’d decided to make you his wife.

This whole time I thought he’d kidnapped me, like a madman…but really he was protecting me from you, wasn’t he? Because you were ready to sell your daughter off to whatever man would be the highest bidder? None of the pathetic excuses that come out of your father's mouth are enough to fix the trust that had been broken. Your heart had broken that night, and you’d left your family home and vowed to never look back, tears running down your face. Max had taken one look at you and taken you into his comforting arms, shushing your cries and murmuring that you were not alone, he was your family now, his home was now yours as well. Or rather, multiple properties, it might be more appropriate to say.

This time, you willingly return to the darkness, and you accept his offer of marriage, of protection, and of partnership, and he takes yours delicate hand in his when you walk down the aisle in a beautiful cream gown that same month. Like your now husband had noted when he'd first met you, you were a smart woman, the perfect wife to the likes of the heir to the Verstappen mafia. You understood that if the reigning government council couldn't resist the criminal takeover, it would be better to join them instead. But not with the pathetic bribing the Mayor had done, comprising his citizen's safety and then his own daughter's.

No, your style was far more ambitious than his. You'd gotten your fire from your mother, after all. So when the Princessa of Monaco married the powerful Verstappen heir, your citizens hadn't known what to expect, rumours flying of the whole thing being a forced arrangement. But when you and Max have eliminated both your fathers out of the way and claimed the city of Monaco for yourselves, you're quick to resume it's political redevelopment and advances in healthcare and education whilst running the largest drug smuggling ring in Europe in the underground canals. You had to get the funding from somewhere, and driving neighbouring gang's businesses into the ground to support your own local one seems a good a cause as any. This time, under your partnership, it's done in a much safer way for your citizens, and you firmly believe the means justify the ends.

And time passes in the now flourishing city. The handsome Dutch Leeuw is often seen out for lunch by the beach, laughing with his beautiful new wife in his arms. The power couple of Monaco, your citizens say, admiring your union of the darkness and the light.

______________________________________________________________

A/N: WHEWWWW this was a long one my dearest readers I am so sorry for the wait life has been crazy!! was a bit overwhelmed with work but max winning the sprint was enough to revive me thank you for waiting! lmk what you think! dark max simps do not worry I have many garbage pieces coming your way hehe

[l0vergirlsw0rld]

ravish

hitchhiker!readerxperv!loganhowlett

a/n: i recycled this old fic and made it a logan one yay! this was written the day after i watched once upon a time in Hollywood in theaters, clearly. haven't written smut in so long ;_;

wc: 2.4k

NSFW

18+ MDNI | age gap,oral sex, masturbation and sexual themes

summary: Y/N was at a festival last night and needs to hit the road again to go on her next adventure. she hitches a drive with someone who might just be that.

au: 1970's

You squirmed as your now blistered bare feet stood on the sizzling hot concrete.

Your arm was out, holding a thumbs up, hoping that one of the roadside drivers pull over and give you a lift. The leather backpack you were wearing was so hot it began to burn your lower back; summers in Phoenix, Arizona were practically unbearable. 

The air was dry and dusty; the back of your throat ached for a gulp of water. You had been dehydrated since you had woken up this morning.

You had gone to one of the biggest parties you had ever seen. You hardly knew anyone, and that was the joy of it; You met people from all over the States, Canada even people from Europe.

You had consumed lots of drugs and fun drinks during the night, all given to you by generous strangers.

You had lost your shoes sometime during the night, but that didn’t stop you from dancing to the music that filled your ears. Guitar strums resonated throughout the field, each chord amplified by the psychedelics you’d taken, making you feel the music deep in your bones.

Lighters were held high, illuminating the dark field. It felt like you were one with everyone in the stars.

This morning, you woke up in the middle of a flower field.

The blazing sun had pierced your vision, ripping through the haze from the pollen white flowers. Multiple ants covered your sugary drink. Disgusted, you tossed it to the side, got up and walked to the nearest busy street, which was farther than you had anticipated.

You were dressed in your crochet crop top and cut-off jean shorts from last night. Your wrists were decked in various friendship bracelets that you had received during the night, an odd custom for a party, but now you had keepsakes. You smiled, remembering the connections you had made.

Cars sped by, giving you somewhat of a  'refreshing breeze' to withstand the scorching heat of today. 

Your arm began to prickle, and the pounding headache of a hangover formed in your temples. You sighed impatiently as you tapped your foot on the ground.

I don't even care who picks me up, just get me out of here,

You thought.

Your stomach growled with hunger, you had only consumed liquid in the past 14 hours.

You observed the people in the cars that passed by you:

Well-dressed women who deliberately ignored your presence.

Families in full cars, with fathers who noticed your needy figure but quickly averted their eyes, conscious of their wives in the passenger seat.

Young men, young women.

New, inexperienced drivers

As you began to lose hope, a dodge challenger pulled over in front of you.

Cracking a smile, you skipped to the passenger window. The unknown man leaned over the console and rolled down the window.

"Whereabouts are you headed?" You asked, propping your elbows on the edge of his piping hot car. "I'm headed through Tucson, then El Paso." He spoke. 

The truth was, you didn't care about where you were going, you just wanted to go somewhere else. You had been hopping from state to state for the whole summer now, and you weren't going to stop.

You were young, wild, and free. 

"Perfect." You grinned and opened the door cheekily.

You sat down, propping your practically black feet up on the dash nonchalantly. The man just grunted and steered the car back onto the road.

You observed him quietly. 

The first thing you noticed was his height; he barely fit in the small car seats. His large hand wrapped effortlessly around the steering wheel, knuckles still marked with dried blood—evidence of a fight from the night before.

He had a tanned complexion, with dark hair that looked soft to the touch. His broad, muscular shoulders nearly brushed against you, and you caught a faint scent of cologne mixed with whiskey and woody cigars.

He wore a white tank top beneath a flannel, paired with worn work jeans. A pair of tinted aviators rested on the bridge of his angular nose, and his work boots, as dirty as your own feet, pressed down on the gas pedal.

 "What do you do for a living?" You continued eyeing him.

The man snorted. 

"I do all sorts of things. Mostly any job with tools." He replied. 

"So, a handyman?" You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. 

"You could call me that." He rasped.

"So, is that why you're going to El Paso? To work?" The car stopped at a red light.  The man reached into the glove compartment in front of you, his arm hair brushing against your thigh as he grabbed a box of cigars.

"You're a smart kid." He mumbled as he stuffed a cigar between his lips. He lit the end and took a drag;

"And you're running away from home," He offered you a cigar.

"Uh-no, I'm just on a solo adventure." You took a cigar from the box.

He lit the end with a swipe of his thumb and you inhaled; a dry scratchy feeling in your throat made you erupt in a coughing fit, trying to catch your breath.

The man found this amusing, his eyes crinkled as he grinned.

"If you don't smoke, kid, don't start now." He pulled the cigar from your lips and placed it in his mouth, where it joined the one he was already smoking. Now, two cigars jutted out from the side of his mouth.

"Jesus, you don't need to out-smoke me, I think you already did that." You crossed your arms with a huff.

"You're too innocent for smokes anyway...Also too innocent to wear whatever you have on now. It ain't covering much." He practically scolded, tightening his grip on the wheel.

Your cheeks flushed a bright pink.

"If it bothers you so much, stop checking me out, then." You rolled your eyes.

"Don't need to when it's all in your face. Can see your whole stomach and half of your ass is hanging out." He flung one of the cigars outside. 

"Perv." You looked out your window.

The man swallowed hard and stayed quiet, driving behind the other vehicles.

You picked up on his silence.

"Oh, you didn't like that did you?" You continued. 

He ignored you as you re-drew your attention to him, he stayed focused on the road in front of him.

You grinned.

This was amusing, you had a man about 20 years older than you all flustered because you caught him checking you out. You were probably his fantasy; young college girl age, petite, adventurous, non-commital. Compared to uptight, old fuller marital women of his age. 

The truth was, you've always liked older men but never attempted to be with one outside of your fantasies.

It was common for younger women to be coupled with older men, but the men from your town were distasteful, not like this man who was sitting next to you. 

You turned around in your seat and laid down to where your head was on his lap, and your feet were sitting on the passenger side door.

"What're you doin' kid?" He grumbled looking down at your face from the wheel.

"You want me to suck your dick don't you?" You met his eyes.

He scoffed and turned his attention to the road again.

"How old are ya'?" He took a drag.

"Pfft, I'm old enough." You replied.

He hummed in acknowledgement.

"Guess how old?" You added. 

"Early-twenties." He blew smoke out the window, cherry wood.

He guessed correctly. A devious smile curled at your lips.

"You sure know your young women pretty well, sir." You chuckled at your own joke.

The man took the hand that held the cigar and cupped your face roughly pressing his thumb on your lips, shutting you up. His cigar burned centimetres away from your face, a faint heat could be felt from the lit tip and the smoke drifted in your nostrils, the smell was intoxicating.

"Don't say things like that." He grumbled. You bit his calloused thumb seductively, giving it a soft suck which earned a raspy "fuck" from the man. 

"What's your name anyway?" He removed his thumb from your mouth placing the hand on the steering wheel. He squirmed slightly in the seat, readjusting his hips, and your head moved with him. He was getting harder by the minute.

"It's Y/N. You?" 

"Y/N?" He tasted your name on his lips. "-Logan." He growled, in a husky voice.

Your hands drifted down to your shorts, and you unbuttoned them. His eyes darted to your hands, and you felt his chest expand against your head as he took a deep breath.

You pulled them under your hips and let them bunch at your ankles. You spread your knees apart, exposing your clothed goods. You were wearing a light blue thong.

"You want to feel?" You lightly stroked your legs, prompting him to go the same.

Logan took one last drag of his cigar and threw it out the window, like the first one; his right hand was now free.

Instead of taking up your offer, he just returned his hand to the wheel, ignoring you.

"Fine then," You whined.

You pulled the fabric to the side, revealing your now wet folds.

You began to play with yourself, slowly. Rubbing supple, soft circles on your clit. Quiet moans escaped your lips as you built a rhythm. You knew where it felt good, you weren't new to touching yourself.

You turned your head to the side, facing Logan's shirt, you inhaled his scent and let out another moan.

Logan let out a low grumble from his chest and lowered his hand onto yours.

He guided your hand to insert your fingers inside of you. You let out a surprised whimper as he worked your hand to fuck yourself.

"Mh- I want- ah- your fingers, not mine- ah-" You managed between thrusts.

He removed your hand from your core and lifted it to his face, he inhaled deeply before mumbling another fuck.

"Taste yourself." He commanded as he brought your fingers to your mouth.

You complied, inserting your index and middle finger as deep in your mouth as possible, looking up at him while doing so. He watched you while biting his lip.

His hand snaked under your crop top, lifting it, exposing your breasts.

"Fuck sake," He breathed out after seeing what was underneath.

"Can't do this here." He jerked the wheel aggressively to the side, pushing you further into him.

He had pulled the car into an off-road wooded clearing a few miles away from the city; of course, it didn't take long for him to get there, he had gunned it the whole way; after all, he had more pressing matters to take care of.

You.

The both of you had made your way into the back seat of the car, your knees hung over his bulky shoulders, his face buried deep between your legs.

You were completely naked and he was fully dressed aside from the flannel that was discarded moments ago.

You gripped fist fulls of his hair as he lapped at your sensitive spot. Logan loved eating you out, your taste was sweet and your smell was intoxicating. Your wetness dripped off his chin as he sucked on your clit, sending you to another dimension entirely. He was skilled with his tongue, he knew how to keep a steady rhythm and when to switch it up. He groaned against you, savouring every second he had with you.

Logan had never been with such a pretty young thing like you before, he couldn't get enough.

He pressed his thick calloused index finger at your entrance while still using his tongue. Slowly, he pumped it deeper and deeper inside you, eventually reaching his knuckle. You moaned into your hand, trying to muffle the noise you were making. The two points of stimulation were too much.

You were already approaching your orgasm; Your hips bucked against his jaw and hand as you escalated gradually to meet that sweet release.

"Logan ah- I'm gonna cum" You exclaimed tightening your grip on his hair. This was the motivation for him to go even harder. He caught his breath against you between his thrusts. Pushing back against your clenching thighs and dove deeper, licking long fat strokes on your swollen clit. His coarse facial hair rubs against your skin, causing a slight burning sensation. Your knees shook as he picked his pace and enveloped your sensitive bud between his lips, sucking hungrily and giving it a slight bite.

Logan groaned as he heard your moan of surprise, you didn't know you like that. But he did.

You felt the pressure begin to pool out as your head tilted back with a loud moan:

Your fingertips and toes began to tingle.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

Your back arched instinctively.

Logan sent you over the edge, you fell in shambles of moans and whimpers as he slowly helped you ride out your orgasm.

"That's it sweetheart, good girl." He murmured with his mouth full of you as you caught your breath.

He slowly lapped you clean until you began to feel sensitive. Logan pulled back and looked at you hungrily as he licked your cum off his lips.

"You really like doing that don't you?" You asked breathless.

He snuck his hand down to your slick and now swollen pussy, using his fingers to spread you open. He observes it in awe as if he hadn't spent the last few minutes with his face right up there.

"It's... pretty...n' soft." He mumbled under his breath. Logan ducks down and places a long kiss right on the sensitive area, breathing you in once more.

You flushed a bright pink, embarrassed. You had never had a guy ravish you like this.

"Your turn, let's switch," You said propping yourself up on your elbows.

Logan chuckled."Nah, kid, we gotta hit the road." He tugged on his pants to relieve the pressure of his hard-on against the denim.

"But you-" You start but Logan cuts you off by pulling you in for a hungry kiss. His hand tangled in your hair as he pressed you to him, sucking your bottom lip between his teeth and biting. You moan in his mouth again and he pulls away with a smirk.

"Later," He grits, pocketing your panties. "Get dressed," He spanks your ass and gets out the back seat.

"Yes sir," You excitedly find your clothes.

i feel like logan loves to eat out, oops :)

->-> click here for part 2 <-<-

->->click here for part 3<-<-

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[pazziville]

because i adore pazzi to the bone and have them on my mind 24/7/365 i shall present my pazzi roman empire list

part two here!

pazzi state fair tradition

azzi's mom liking a post about pazzi and paige

azzi greeting jon a hbd ft. paige

azzi saying paige has a great heart

paige lockdown defense aka hugging azzi

pazzi reserved 💗 for each other compilation

azzi calling out for paige

pazzi horseback riding

paige being touchy to azzi while playing with kids

azzi's lock screen that is allegedly paige (other angle)

the ornament

drake concert

paige is a fudd confirmed

azzi's amazing nap with paige

pazzi bench getty images

paige being azzi's number one fan and the president of azzi fudd fan club

infamous ice live ft. pazzi

europe air

pazzi touchy moment near the bench

matching for halloween (video clip)

paige calling azzi bighead

paige's crush

down bad in europe

paige being a menace while azzi studies

azzi annoying paige after their cool handshake

paige watching azzi with a baby

taking the fair to paige

matching/borrowing of necklace pt. 1

azzi twerking in front of paige

allegedly jealous azzi

iconic 'wife' clip

paige one sided staring contest with azzi

the goddamn sza concert wherein paige allegedly looked at azzi in the lyric 'i don't wanna see you with anyone but me'

team paige or team azzi

team doing a tiktok and paige allegedly pointing at azzi and looking at her during the lyric 'i'm saying that i love you everyday'

lifting clip

totally unnecessary holding of hands

sharing of clothes pt. 1

europe boat together

ice suspiciously smiling when paige mentions azzi

no one can stop them from teasing each other

matching shorts

together before mavs vs celtics game 2

paige staring at azzi hard

azzi saying it's good that paige isn't scared of the dark cause she is

compilation of interactions for team usa u17 part 1 part 2 part 3

paige sleeping in azzi's bed [video]

cruise clip

moments during 2018 girl's capital classic all-star game at st john's

lowkey flexing each other

paige fixing whatever was on azzi's outfit during the wnba draft

taking photos of each other

them in each other's ig comments

THE pazzi hug

crazy eye contact in sue bird's show

matching pants

young azzi slapping paige's forehead

azzi staring lovingly at paige

azzi wearing pazzi slam shirt and covering paige's face with a sticker

paige hovering over azzi while she works out

sleeping on the couch

her partner in crime

paige in azzi's tiktok comments

azzi's relationship with paige's family (another one)

azzi spanking paige

paige's eyes are glued to azzi

paige favorite a semi-pazzi edit

young pazzi enjoying a party together

matching/borrowing of necklace pt. 2

azzi hugging paige's mom

reading in front of kids

airport fetus pictures

camping

princess was rizzed

borrowing/matching clothes pt. 2

paige grabbing azzi for a hug

factimes

azzi trolling paige's reading ability

matching outfit

a bueckers bantering with a fudd

gentlewoman paige

soft pat pats

borrowing/matching clothes pt. 3

story of the olaf lego [one] [two] [three] [service]

paige heart eyes

azzi heart eyes

part of the family

azzi speechless after looking at paige [backup]

since i've hit the link limit in this post, time to make a second list which i'll be linking in this post! 💗

a/n: submissions of worthy pazzi roman empire moments will be accepted and shall be continuously added to this list. 🫶🏼

[girlrotterr]

Milk Of The Siren.

captain!abby x siren!reader Summary: Captain Anderson is among the most skilled, effortlessly navigating countless ships. Yet, even the finest sailors aren't immune to the lure of sirens' hunger. a/n: new series for you angels!!! super excited for this one!! (⁠.⁠ ⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠) ⇢ part two𓈒ㅤׂ 𓇼

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ˳༄꠶ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

A human laid before you, unconscious.

Her milky skin glimmered under the soft moonlight, her body reflecting the silvery glow. She was drenched, her clothes soaked through with seawater. Sand was plastered around her face, sticking to her skin like a constellation of freckles.

what a disturbance..

It was already past midnight, the only illumination coming from the moon and stars above. Their light dancing on the surface of the water, and the gentle glow of jellyfish drifted the sea. You had sought this place for solitude, yearning for some time alone. The cave lagoon was your sanctuary, a place where silence was a constant companion and disturbance was a foreign concept.

But now, that tranquility was shattered. The human's presence was an intrusion into your sacred space. This lagoon, with its crystal-clear waters and echoing silence, had always promised peace. 

You emerged from the water, your movements graceful and deliberate. Your sleek, iridescent tail shimmered, casting ethereal patterns on the cave walls as it parted the waves. Each movement sent ripples across the surface, water cascading down your body. Your hair, the color of the midnight sea, clung to your back,  your eyes. deep and mesmerizing, locked onto the human with irritation. 

The soft sound of waves lapped against the shore, the only noise in the otherwise still night. You hovered over her, studying her face. She looked peaceful, almost serene, despite the obvious turmoil that had brought her here. Her chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, and you could see the faint pulse at her neck, a sign of life amidst the stillness.

Hovering down, you brushed a strand of wet hair from her face, feeling the softness of her skin. She was fragile, a stark contrast to the strength you felt coursing through your own body. This human had no place here, in your sanctuary, disturbing the delicate balance of your world. But there was something about her, something that stirred a feeling you couldn't quite name.

You took a deep breath, inhaling the salty sea air, and let it out slowly. 

───────

"Captain Anderson," Isaac said, shaking Abby's hand in a formal greeting.

Abby returned the handshake firmly, "Isaac," she replied with a nod, taking a seat opposite him. "What brings you to seek me?"

Isaac smiled, a hint of admiration in his eyes as he leaned forward. "You've earned quite the reputation, Captain. Your skill and courage on the seas are well known,." He paused, leaning back in his chair. "I have a proposition for you. We have a cargo that needs to be sailed out to Europe, and I can think of no one better suited for the job than you."

Abby's expression remained composed, though inwardly, she felt a flicker of intrigue. Sailing across the Atlantic was no small effort, even for someone as experienced as herself. "Europe, you say?" she mused, tapping her fingers thoughtfully against the arm of her chair. "That's quite a journey..."

Isaac nodded. "Indeed, it is. But I have every confidence in your abilities. The cargo is valuable, and I trust only the best to ensure its safe passage."

Abby inclined her head, acknowledging the compliment. She had earned her title through years of hard work and determination, rising through the ranks from a young deckhand to a respected captain known for her sharp instinct. Her ship, The Siren's Call, was renowned not only for its speed but also for the loyalty of its crew.

"As always, Isaac, I'm honored by your trust," Abby replied finally, her tone reflective of the weight of the responsibility he was offering. "When do we sail?"

Isaac smiled, relieved by her acceptance. "The Siren's Call leaves at dawn. I'll have the crew and provisions ready."

───────

Abby stepped aboard The Siren's Call at the break of dawn, greeted by the familiar salty breeze. The crew bustled about, preparing the ship for departure.

As Abby made her way to her quarters to stow her belongings, she felt a hand clap down on her shoulder. Turning, she found herself face-to-face with Ellie Williams, a fellow hunter and friend from her days ashore in jackson. Ellie's auburn hair was tied back, her piercing green eyes sparkled with mischief.

"Well, well, if it isn't Captain Anderson herself," Ellie teased, flashing a mischievous grin. "Off on another grand adventure, are we?"

Abby chuckled, giving Ellie a playful shove. "Always."

Ellie nodded knowingly. "Oh, I know all too well. Heard you're sailing for Europe this time. Quiteee the journey"

Abby nodded, "It'll be a challenge, no doubt. But Isaac trusts me to get the job done."

Ellie raised an eyebrow. "Isaac, huh? That old son of a bitch is at it again!" She leaned closer, lowering her voice conspiratorially. "Any chance you'll find a European lady out there?"

Abby rolled her eyes with a smile. "Not likely.”

Ellie laughed, her laughter echoing through the corridor. "Well, you let me know if you change your mind. I've got some contacts who could arrange a meeting."

“I'll keep that in mind.” Abby shook her head,  "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a ship to prepare."

Ellie grinned, stepping back to let Abby pass. "Don't forget to send me a postcard!"

With a wave, Abby continued on her way, her mind already shifting back to the tasks at hand. She settled into her role aboard the Siren's Call, overseeing final preparations and ensuring everything was in order, she couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement. 

The sea was waiting. 

───────

As the Siren's Call cut through the Atlantic waves, Abby kept a vigilant watch, her eyes scanning the horizon for any signs of danger. The journey had been smooth thus far, the ship sailing true under her expert command. But just as the sun began its descent toward the horizon, a haunting melody began to drift through the air.

At first, Abby dismissed it as a trick of the wind, but soon, the melody grew stronger, more intoxicating. It was a song unlike any she had heard before — ethereal and enchanting, weaving through the air like a delicate thread. A chill ran down her spine as she realized what it was: 

The song of sirens.

Glancing around, Abby saw her crew entranced by the music, their eyes glazed over, their movements sluggish as they were drawn toward the source of the melody. Panic surged within her as she fought against the mesmerizing tune, her hands tightening on the wheel to keep the ship on course.

"Keep steady! Fight it!" Abby shouted, her voice cutting through the enchantment like a knife. But the sirens' song was relentless, its allure growing stronger with each passing moment. The Siren's Call began to veer off course, its sails catching the wind erratically.

The ship was now beyond her control, rushing dangerously through the waves. The laughter of the sirens echoed hauntingly in the air, mocking their victory. 

“Captain, we're losing control! The ship won't respond!"

"Damn it!"  Abby gritted her teeth, her mind racing for a solution. 

She knew the tales of the sirens, their irresistible songs luring sailors to their doom upon jagged rocks. Abby steadied herself against the wheel, trying desperately to steer away.

But it was to no avail. 

The ship's structure collided with rocks, splintering wood and tearing sails. The world began to whirl as Abby was thrown overboard, the icy waters enveloping her in a shock of cold. Debris and bodies floated around her, the cries of her crewmates drowned out by the relentless roar of the sea. With a desperate stroke, she struggled toward the surface, fighting against the pull of the sinking ship.

Moments later, Abby's head broke through the surface, gasping for air as she scanned the scene…

The Siren's Call was rapidly disappearing beneath the waves, its masts jutting awkwardly into the sky before vanishing into the depths. The sirens' laughter echoed in the distance, a cruel reminder of their deadly allure.

“no...” Abby weakly whispered as darkness crept on the edges of her vision.

───────

“Ngh..” Abby jolted slightly awake, her eyes fluttering open as she groaned softly.

You instinctively backed away, giving her space to gather herself. She looked around, disoriented and clearly in pain, her body stiff and bruised. Confusion clouded her expression, and her gaze struggled to focus on you through eyes still adjusting to the dim light.

You remained cautious, observing her cautiously as she blinked. 

"What has brought you here?" you asked, your voice tinged with a hint of anger. The disruption she had caused to your sanctuary was annoying enough. 

Abby didn't respond immediately, her eyes still trying to focus on you. She seemed caught between fear and fascination, her breath coming in shallow gasps as she struggled to find her voice. The bruises on her skin stood out starkly in the moonlight. 

"There is no place for you here, human," you snapped, your tone firm. 

The rules of your world were clear — humans were outsiders, their presence a disruption to the delicate balance of your existence beneath the waves. 

"You're... one of them," she whispered weakly, pointing a trembling finger in your direction. Her voice trembled, her gaze fixed on you.

Yes, you were one of the creatures of the deep, Your kind had legends woven around them—stories of enchantment and danger that humans whispered. For centuries, your kind had existed in harmony with the sea, guardians of its secrets and mysteries.

But Abby's presence had disrupted that harmony.

A debate stirred within you, a conflict between duty and desire. On one hand, your instincts urged you to follow the rules of your existence—to remain hidden, to protect your kind from the intrusions of humans. But on the other hand, there was a temptation—an urge that whispered of a different kind of need.

Abby's voice broke through your thoughts, her plea tinged with desperation. I don’t mean to intrude.."

Her words hesitated, exhaustion and pain in every breath. You could sense her vulnerability, her body moving with fatigue as she struggled to maintain her composure. The moonlight bathed her in a soft glow, casting a shadow that danced across her features.

In that moment, you saw her not just as an intruder, but as a fragile soul in unfamiliar waters, seeking refuge from the storms. A flicker of empathy stirred within you, a longing to ease her suffering and offer her safeness Yet, there were potential consequences—disrupting the balance that kept both your worlds apart.

With a conflicted sigh, you made your decision. "I will return," you said.

Abby's eyes widened slightly, a mixture of hope and fear flickering across her face. You could see the relief in her eyes, but you knew your reasons for helping her were far from kindness. If she recovered, she would leave your lagoon, restoring the peace and solitude you so cherished.

You slipped back into the water with effortless grace, your body merging seamlessly with the liquid embrace of the lagoon. The cool water flowed around you as you swam deeper, your mind racing with thoughts of what resources you could gather to help. Food, water, perhaps some herbs to tend to her wounds—all necessary for her recovery.

The underwater world welcomed you, its familiar sights and sounds a comforting balm to your conflicted heart. Radiant creatures lit your way, their soft glow illuminating the path through the darkened depths. You swam swiftly, your movements a blur of silver and blue as you navigated the corridors of your aquatic home.

First, you headed to a nearby kelp forest, where you knew you could find nutrient-rich seaweed. With practiced skill, you harvested a generous bundle, tying it together with a strand of your own hair. Next, you sought out a freshwater spring that bubbled up through the ocean floor, filling a small, hollowed-out shell with the precious liquid.

Eventually, you made your way to a hidden grove where medicinal sea herbs grew in abundance. You carefully selected a variety of leaves and stems, each one known for its healing properties. The weight of your decision still hung heavy on your heart, but the act of gathering these resources gave you a sense of purpose, a way to channel your inner confusion into something useful.

With your resources secured, you turned and began the journey back to the cave. The moonlight still shimmered on the water's surface as you emerged, carrying the gathered resources in your arms. Abby was where you had left her, her eyes closed, her breathing slow and steady. She looked even more fragile than before, a difference to the strength you could sense within her.

You approached quietly, setting the bundle of seaweed and herbs beside her.

"I have returned," you said, your voice a whisper. Abby's eyes fluttered open, and she looked at you with a mixture of gratitude and lingering fear.

Gently, you handed her the shell filled with fresh water. "Drink," you said, guiding her hands to the makeshift vessel. Abby complied, sipping the cool water with obvious relief. You could see the color returning to her cheeks, a sign that she was beginning to regain some of her strength.

You showed her the seaweed. "Eat." you instructed, tearing off a small piece and offering it to her. "It will help you recover." Abby hesitated for a moment, then took the seaweed and began to chew, her expression softening as the nourishment began to take effect.

You turned your attention to her injuries. You crushed the medicinal herbs between your fingers, releasing their healing juices, and gently applied them to her cuts and bruises. Abby winced at first, then relaxed as the soothing properties of the herbs took hold.

You backed away, observing her. Abby's eyes met yours, and for the first time, there was a spark of trust in their depths.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice barely audible above the gentle lapping of the waves.

You stared at her for a moment, torn between your desire for solitude and a new connection that could bloom. Her presence was a disturbance, yes, but also a reminder of the world beyond the sea, a world you had long ago distanced yourself from.

You nodded, “The sea will watch over you."

Abby finally began to take in her surroundings. The beauty of the cave lagoon struck her with a sense of awe. Moonlight filtered through the entrance, casting a silver glow over the water. The walls of the cave were adorned with vibrant corals and sea plants, creating an otherworldly atmosphere that felt both magical and serene.

Her gaze shifted to you, the mythical being who had both frightened and saved her. You were a creature of ethereal beauty, your scales glistening in the dim light, your movements graceful and fluid. There was an undeniable allure to you, a magnetism that drew her in despite the fear that lingered in her heart.

But with that awe came a profound conflict. The sirens, your kind, were responsible for the tragedy that had striked her crew. Abby’s thoughts turned dark as she remembered the screams, the chaos, and the horror. Her shipmates, her friends, had been lured to their deaths by the enchanting songs of the sirens, and now here she was, under the care of one of those very beings.

How could she feel anything but hatred for the creatures responsible for so much pain? And yet, as she watched you move with such grace, as she felt the gentleness in your touch, she couldn’t deny the complexity of her feelings.

You noticed her conflicted expression, the way her eyes flickered with something you couldn’t quite place. 

“You helped me...” Abby spoke, her voice tinged with suspicion and curiosity. “Your kind... they killed my crew. Why didn’t you just leave me to die?”

You hesitated,  “I seek solitude,” you replied, “Your presence here disrupts that. If you heal, you will leave, and I will have my peace again.”

Abby’s eyes narrowed slightly, but there was a hint of understanding in her gaze. “It’s for your own sake.” she murmured, more to herself than to you. “Well, if that's the case, thenn you will have to help me leave." 

"I have helped you enough," you replied, your voice tinged with reluctance.

Abby's expression hardened "I can't simply swim to land," she insisted, her voice growing firmer. "I need to construct a boat—a small one, quick to build yet sturdy enough to carry me and the supplies I'll need until I reach safety."

You grumbled to yourself, the request catching you off guard. Helping Abby construct a boat meant prolonging her stay—something you had hoped to avoid. 

Reluctantly, you nodded. "Very well," you conceded, your voice resigned. "I will gather what you need."

A faint smile tugged at Abby's lips, teasing and amused. "Good," she replied, her voice teasingly soft. "I suppose I should rest now. It'll make you grumble less."

Perhaps you should’ve eaten her.

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Hedy Lamarr (Samson and Delilah, Ziegfeld Girl)—Look. I'm sure someone has already submitted Hedy Lamarr because she was spectacularly beautiful, and a very strong lady too: she fled both an abusive marriage AND nazi persecution at a very young age and rebuilt a life for herself pursuing her love for acting all on her own!! Her career as an actress was stellar; while she began acting outside of Hollywood (her very first movie, Ecstasy, won a prize at the Venice Film Festival), she conquered American hearts very quickly with her first movie in the US, Algiers, and then just kept getting better and better. If all this isn't enough, she was also an inventor: her invention of the frequency-hopping spread spectrum radio transmission technique forms the base of bluetooth and has a lot of applications in all kinds of communication technologies. I think that deserves a prize, don't you?

Anna May Wong (The Thief of Bagdad, Shanghai Express)—Wong was the first Chinese American movie star, arguably the first Asian woman to make it big in American films. Though the racism of the time often forced her into stereotypical roles, awarded Asian leading roles to white actors in yellowface, and prohibited on-screen romance between actors of different races, she delivered powerful and memorable performances. When Hollywood bigotry got to be too much, she made movies in Europe. Wong was intellectually curious, a fashion icon, and a strong advocate for authentic Asian representation in cinema. And, notably for the purposes of this tournament, absolutely gorgeous.

We are in the quarterfinals of the Hot & Vintage Movie Women Tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Propaganda is not my own and is on a submission basis. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Hedy Lamarr:

The only person you can find both on the Hollywood Walk of Fame and in the Inventor's Hall of Fame--her radio-frequency-hopping technology forms the basis for cordless phones, wi-fi, and a dozen other aspects of modern life. She was also passionate in her efforts to aid the Allies in WWII (unsurprising for a Jewish-Austrian Emigree to America), and her name served as the backbone for one of the best running jokes in what is possibly Mel Brooks' best movie. Look, Louis B. Mayer apparently believed he could plausibly promote her as "The world's most beautiful woman". Is an entire website full of people going to be less audacious than one Louis B. Mayer? I didn't think so!

Described as "Hedy has the most incredible personal sophistication. She knows the peculiarly European art of being womanly; she knows what men want in a beautiful woman, what attracts them, and she forces herself to be these things. She has magnetism with warmth, something that neither Dietrich nor Garbo has managed to achieve" by Howard Sharpe, she managed to escape her controlling husband (and Nazi Germany) by a) Disguising as her maid and fleeing to Paris or b) Convincing the husband to let her wear all of her jewelry to a dinner, only to disappear afterwards. Also she was particularly clever and helped develop Frequency-Hopping Spread Spectrum (I can't really explain it but anyway...)

Her depiction of Delilah and Samson and Delilah just lives rent free in my head. The woman was gorgeous.

One of the most beautiful women ever in film, spoken by many critics and fans. Beautiful shapely figure, deeper seductive voice, and often played femme fatale roles. She was also brilliant and an inventor. Mainly self-taught, she invested her spare time, including on set between takes, in designing and drafting inventions, which included an improved traffic stoplight and a tablet that would dissolve in water to create a flavored carbonated drink, and much more.

Gorgeous and brilliant pioneer of modern technology and the middle part.

Anna May Wong propaganda:

"She so so gorgeous!! Due to Hollywood racism she was pretty limited in the roles she got to play but even despite that she’s so captivating and deserves to be known as a leading lady in her own right!! When she’s on screen in Shanghai Express I can’t look away, which is saying something because Marlene Dietrich is also in that film."

"SHE IS ON THE BACK OF QUARTERS also she was very smart and able to speak multiple languages and is a fashion icon on top of the acting/singing"

"Paved the way for Asian American actresses AND TOTAL HOTTIE!!! She broke boundaries and made it her mission to smash stereotypes of Asian women in western film (at the time, they were either protrayed them as delicate and demure or scheming and evil). In 1951, she made history with her television show The Gallery of Madame Liu-Tsong, the first-ever U.S. television show starring an Asian-American series lead (paraphrased from Wikipedia). Also, never married and rumor has it that she had an affair with Marlene Dietrich. We love a Controversial Queen!"

"She's got that Silent Era smoulder™ that I think transcends the very stereotypical roles in which she was typically cast. Also looks very hot smouldering opposite Marlene Dietrich in "Shanghai Express"; there's kiss energy there."

"Hot as hell and chronically overlooked in her time, she's truly phenomenal and absolutely stunning"

"A story of stardom unavoidably marred by Hollywood racism; Wong's early-career hype was significantly derailed by the higher-up's reluctance to have an Asian lead, and things only got worse when the Hayes code came down and she suddenly *couldn't* be shown kissing a white man--even if that white man was in yellowface. After being shoved into the Dragon Lady role one too many times, she took her career to other continents for many years. Still, she came back to America eventually, being more selective in her roles, speaking out against Asian stereotypes, and in the midst of all of this finding the time to be awarded both the title of "World's Best Dressed Woman" by Mayfair Mannequin Society of New York and an honorary doctorate by Peking University."

"Incredible beauty, incredible actress, incredible story."

"-flapper fashion ICON. look up her fits please <3 -rumors of lesbianism due to her Close Friendships with marlene dietrich & cecil cunningham, among others -leveraged her star power to criticize the racist depictions of Chinese and Asian characters in Hollywood, as well as raise money and popular support for China & Chinese refugees in the 1930s and 40s. -face card REFUSED to decline"

[dorabellingham]

Stars

warnings: none

characters: jude x reader

summary: when you, a hollywood actress, need to shoot an underwear campaign with him.

may contain spelling and translation errors!

You, or rather Y/n Marx, were at the height of your career. You were the most sought-after actress in Hollywood, winning awards like the Oscar and the Golden Globe, even though you were so young. Your performances in romance films, dramas and comedies have made you a global icon. Your ability to transform into any role and the charisma you exuded on camera made you an unbeatable force in the film industry. The english actress, who won hearts all over the world, has been everywhere: red carpets, magazine covers and, now, in a campaign for Skims, a renowned fashion brand. You were used to being the center of attention, but this campaign would be different. It wouldn't just be about you.

For the first time, you would share stardom with someone, and that someone was none other than Jude Bellingham, one of the most promising football players in the world and an idol in Europe. You had heard about him several times through the mutual friend you had been friends with since the days when you were still a young rising star.

Jude was, in addition to being a football star, a charismatic man, with a legion of fans around the world. He had a relaxed and natural way that captivated anyone, whether on the field or off. You've never met him in person, but his name always comes up in conversations with your friend. You exchanged messages here and there, but nothing very significant... Until that moment.

Campaign day has arrived. The set was located in a stunning mansion in Los Angeles, filled with luxurious environments and stunning views. Upon arrival, you were greeted with the usual treatment: a team of makeup artists, stylists and assistants, all ready to make sure you looked perfect for the photos. You, as always, remained calm and professional, greeting everyone with your warm smile. However, the player's name echoed in the set. You knew he was there too, but the idea that you would finally meet in person left a slight feeling in your stomach.

Y/n Marx wasn't easily intimidated, but something about this encounter made you feel different. Maybe it was because, in all your fame and success, you'd never really taken the time to get to know someone in such a...sincere way. And Jude was someone who shared that pressure of fame, someone who perhaps understood it on a deeper level.

While you were in the dressing room, you caught a commotion coming from the main entrance. It was him.

—Jude has arrived!

The makeup artist commented casually.

You looked in the mirror, taking in your impeccably prepared reflection for the cameras, but your heart started to beat a little faster. He took a deep breath and prepared himself for the first interaction.

When you finally returned to the set, you were on your back, adjusting your dress for the first photo. He heard footsteps and then Bukayo's familiar voice.

—Y/n, this here is Jude, but I'm sure you already know each other because I talk about him so much.

He joked, with that typical smile that always warmed up any room.

You slowly turned around and met Jude's eyes for the first time. It was something beyond what you expected. His photos on social media didn't do justice to the presence he exuded in person. Tall, with an easy smile, and with that look that mixed curiosity and a certain charm. You stared at each other for a moment, the world around you seemed to slow down.

—I finally meet you in person!

Jude said, extending his hand to you with a smile that revealed both tranquility and slight nervousness.

—Yes, finally! —You replied, with a soft laugh, accepting the handshake. —Saka don't stop talk about you.

The touch of your hands seems to last a little longer than necessary. There was something about the energy between you, something neither of you expected.

The photo session began, and the first poses were relaxed, with the two laughing and interacting as if they were already old friends. Jude, despite being more used to football pitches than fashion cameras, surprised everyone with his ease. He moves naturally, his athletic body perfectly complementing the campaign's aesthetic.

You, on the other hand, were in your comfort zone, but something about the man's presence made you feel vulnerable, in the best of ways. There was something genuine about him that took her out of her usual impeccable posture. At times, you found yourself actually laughing, something rare on such controlled film sets.

After a few hours of photos and videos, the team took a break. You turned around in the rest area, both of you with a bottle of water in your hands, still adjusting your costumes.

—You're really good at this.

You commented, breaking the silence as you sat next to him on the white sofa that decorated the set.

—I was a little nervous at first.... —He admitted, shrugging. —This isn't exactly my field, you know?

—It doesn't even seem like it! —You laughed. —You look very natural.

You were silent for a moment, just watching the team move around. Then, Jude looked at you, his gaze more serious this time.

—You are much more reserved than I expected. —He said, with a sincerity that caught her by surprise. —I always see you on screen, so confident, but you have this way... different in person.

You blurted out, a little shy.

—It's different being in front of the camera as Y/N Marx and just being Y/n, you know? —You confessed, something you don't usually do with strangers. —People don't always understand that.

—I understand. —He replied, with a simplicity that made your heart quicken. —I think we have that in common.

The look between you lasted longer than expected, a silent exchange of understanding that was interrupted when Bukayo appeared out of nowhere, throwing a pillow at the two of you.

—Hey, I don't care about a romantic atmosphere on the set!!! —Bukayo joked, laughing loudly. —Come on, you still have a few more photos to take.

The rest of the day passed quickly, but that exchange of looks between you was recorded in both of your minds. When the photo session ended, and the sun was already setting, you said goodbye, but with a feeling that this meeting would not be the last.

As you got into the car that would take you back to the hotel, you couldn't help the smile that insisted on appearing on your lips. Jude also looked different. You both knew something special had happened on that set, something that no camera had ever fully captured, but that they would both feel for a long time.

And so began the love story between a Hollywood star and a world football icon.

[cierraonline]

They’ve been dating for a while pookie I’m sorry

anywaysssss

Did You Miss US?

chapter two: did you miss us?

warning: none

masterlist | previous chapter | next chapter

XXX

UCONN GAMPEL PAVILION  

University of Connecticut  

Storrs, Connecticut

Okay guys, we’re back…. Did you miss us? ‘Cause we missed you! - Sasha James UCONN's PG

Whistle blows

“Listen up,” Geno Auriemma, the man with the plan—the man who built stars and legends—UCONN’s women’s basketball head coach with nearly 1,000 wins under his belt, announced. “This season, I will not be your head coach—” The older man was interrupted by gasps that filled the room.

Thirty young women stared at him, mouths agape in shock, while his staff stood behind him in support. “Now calm down. I’m not going anywhere, nor am I retiring. This year, your head coach will be one of our own…. Sasha James.” With that introduction, the brown-skinned girl walked into the stadium and stood next to her mentor, essentially a father figure to her.

“Aahh,” all the returning girls jumped up, rushing to Sasha and pulling her into a tight embrace in congratulations.

“That’s my wife!” Paige pointed to her partner with a wide smile, knowing how much this meant to Sasha.

“Okay, get off me,” Sasha laughed as she tried to push away the arms and hands. “Sit down, y’all are embarrassing me,” she added, mainly addressing her best friends. Once everyone returned to their original spots on the bleachers, her expression turned serious. “So, this year we’ll be following my coaching plan for the women’s basketball team, which was approved by the athletic director, David Benedict,” Sasha said, pointing to the white man who raised his hand in greeting, as it was the first time some players had met him. “First on the list is our Europe tour, a team bonding and learning experience.”

“Really!?”

“Shut up!” The girls jumped up in excitement, thrilled at the prospect of traveling abroad for team bonding.

“Now, we have a problem,” Sasha began, watching the players’ faces grow worried. “There are 30 of us, half of whom are red-shirts due to either prior injuries or eligibility situations. A portion of those who aren’t red-shirts don’t get time on the court because skills aren’t being picked up quick enough. With that, we’re just wasting space and resources. At the end of last season, an email was sent out stating that although the season is over, we want you all to be prepared and in top condition. Freshmen, you got the same email after confirming your commitment to the team. So, before we leave for our trip, we’ll be cutting off the dead weight. Today, you’ll be doing multiple drills and rounds, and if we believe you’re performing well, you’ll stay. If not, I’m sorry, but this will be your last day on the team, regardless of scholarship status.”

Internally, the players felt a bit of panic, but overall they believed they were the best—after all, they’d made it this far.

“You will also have to play according to my standards,” Sasha declared, making the tension rise further. “The goal this season is to win like it has been for the past five years that got us to win Big East Conference and the Final Four. I don’t like losing and I won’t start this season. I like no-score games—it brings in publicity, which brings in money for the department and us as players. I need to know I can trust you all to win without relying on our heavy hitters to play a full game with no breaks. Last season, we recycled the same five players. This year will be different. We have five  players planning to enter the draft, and we need to put them in the best position to be seen and recognized.”

“Are you guys scared?” Geno asked from beside Sasha, observing his players’ reactions. “You should be. We’re still falling behind on basic skills that should come naturally to us. We’re not rebounding properly, not making fast plays, and not thinking smart on the court. There’s no more depending on the starting five or your status to save you.”

“Everything will be tested and calculated, and by the end of the day, the staff and I will be left with the best 14 players to continue with the athletic department. That means 16 of you will be ending your college basketball careers today,” Sasha nodded, watching her teammates exchange glances, wondering who would stay and who would be shamefully dismissed. “Let’s start with suicides—15 on each side, meeting in the middle. Let’s go,” she clapped her hands and took a seat on the bleachers.

Giving them a moment to get into position, Geno blew the whistle, and the running began. “Ramirez is lagging behind; her speed hasn’t improved since her freshman year,” Sasha noted to Geno, who nodded in agreement, jotting down the player’s name.

“Ayanna’s speed seems to have improved since her injury,” Chris Dailey commented, pointing at the sophomore.

“Alright!” Geno blew the whistle. “Line up!” The players stood in a straight line as the staff observed them. The goal of this elimination round was to test speed but also endurance—who looked tired and exhausted? This would show who had taken the offseason seriously and who hadn’t.

“Ramirez, your speed hasn’t improved. Anderson, you look tired, and you’ve only ran for 10 minutes. Bennett, your speed is inconsistent. Davis, Geno feels you’re not giving us your best because you’re overconfident, thinking we can’t replace you. Lastly, Jones, Coach Dailey feels your maturity hasn’t shown any growth. I’m sorry, girls, but you’re off the team. Tomorrow, you’ll have a meeting with David to go over the next steps.” 

Sasha moved on to the next drill. “Alright, let’s do dribbling drills. I want a relay race with 12 on each side, from the left side of the court to the right. The winning side is safe from elimination.” Sasha didn’t have time to watch the eliminated players cry over their lost positions. She needed a winning team—budget-friendly, hardworking, and serious about the chance they are given.

“Flores’ handles are sloppy,” Geno shook his head in disapproval as the player lost control of the ball twice before reaching the other side of the court. “Ines is doing better than last season. Keep a close eye on her.”

“Garcia is looking down too much,” Chris Dailey noted.

“What do we think about the freshmen?” Sasha pointed out Kamorea Arnold, who seemed to have a strong grip on the ball.

“With freshmen, we don’t need perfect; we need to see that there is room for improvement and how fast they can implement corrections,” Geno advised, advising for  Sasha to not expect perfection from the freshmen class. “We want people to see that we create stars, but we also nurture growth and progression.”

“Flores, Garcia, Harris, Johnson, and King, you’re dismissed,” Geno announced, prompting one of the girls to sob and plead for another chance. “You’re seniors, but we have yet to see evidence that shows the progress you made since you’ve been in this program for three years.”

“I plan on entering the draft this year!” Harris cried out.

“You shouldn’t have entered the draft when you’ve haven’t been getting much playing time for the past two years and had no playing time in your freshman year,” Sasha said, moving on to the next test. “Freshmen, you’re safe. Please grab your uniforms, practice schedules, and packing lists.”

“Thank you!” they squealed with big smiles, running to where Chris stood at a foldable table.

“Let’s make this interesting,” Sasha continued. “Geno, Chris, David, and I will each choose a player to save.”

“Paige,” Geno nodded at the blonde, who exhaled in relief before running to the table where Chris stood.

“Nika,” David selected the Croatian player.

“Azzi,” Chris smiled at the league’s best shooter next to Sasha.

“Aaliyah,” Sasha chose.

“Thank you,” Aaliyah whispered as she passed by her friend and teammate, heading to Chris for a congratulatory hug.

“Alright, let’s do rounds. I want to see smart plays… choose your teams,” Sasha directed the remaining players, who were more nervous than ever. With a whistle, a game on each side of the court began, and the returning players played harder than ever. Some stood out for the right reasons, while others didn’t.

“Caroline is thinking smarter; she’s stepping into that leadership role we’ve been waiting for her to take,” Geno commented, watching as she quickly passed the ball to another player instead of holding it and risking a blocked shot.

“Amari’s passes are getting faster,” Sasha noted as the player did a no-look pass to her teammate.

“Aubrey’s defense is improving, especially in blocking and holding screens,” Geno added.

“Alright, line up!” Sasha blew her whistle. “Lewis, Mitchell, Nelson, Parker, Rodriguez—thank you for the time you put into this team, but you’re eliminated,” she announced, watching as the remaining players huddled together, sharing tears and congratulations. “The rest of you, let’s start making corrections faster and implementing them. You’ve been here; you know the standards. It shouldn’t take the last round of eliminations for things to start clicking. We need it to click the minute you step onto the court. Got it?”

“Yes,” they answered, nodding.

“Well, go get your stuff. We’ve got a trip to pack for,” Sasha smiled, clapping her hands.

“Don’t ever put us through that again,” Aubrey jokingly pointed at Sasha as she and Amari pproached her.

“I had to try to get rid of you somehow. Isn’t this your fifth year?” Sasha laughed, nudging the girl’s shoulder.

“Don’t get jumped!” Aubrey laughed.

“Go get your stuff before I have Geno kick you out too,” Sasha rolled her eyes, showing off her playfully sassy side.

taglist @averette98 @hedidnotpleaseme @unknown5397 @girlyglitterprincess @sunwalker355 @akiracutie @pinkandlilacroses @bennybabyyy @pbueckerslover @pbueckers @okimreadynow @blackbarbie96 @blue-whiteuc @randomhoex @tyler-adaline @espersonalsj @hidden-kay1 @kayckeny @chip-the-teapot @woso-scotland @rickflagfine88897 @amourrnini @hon3y-girl @apreer @stfuzoeyy @50shadesofdeville @rebecca-woso @yourmom-25s-blog @lxonix-ac @kaliblazin @klexiasblog @selenalei @thenewprophecysworld @areyourlightsup @billiesrighthand @lordfarquad-k @rhearipley-69 @vvaaaall @dandelions4us @kluvsspongebob @bratyee @bilssharky

[imperatorrrrr]

another new Nico Hischier interview, this time in French, highlights below:

Q: Are you still living your dream? A: Yes, of course. It has always been my dream to be a professional hockey player. It is an honour to be able to do it, to have the health to do it. To do what I love. Many others would have loved to be in my shoes. I wake up every morning with the thought that I am privileged. I do my best to help my team win games. 

Q: You are presented as a hockey star. How big is the pressure? A: It is enormous. It starts right away when you become a professional player. And it stays the whole time. In Europe and across the Atlantic. The pressure is everywhere, not just in hockey. It is about knowing how to manage it. To put yourself in a condition to release it. It is not always easy, when you have thousands of people scrutinizing what you do. You have to take the best of it. The pressure helps me give the best of myself in every situation. That is how I can go to bed with a good feeling without being disappointed in myself. 

Q: "It's not always easy," according to you. What were the most complicated moments of your career? A: The most difficult period was undoubtedly the season marked by Covid. Also because of the injuries that affected me. I learned a lot from that period. There was the virus. I was injured, I trained in my corner. Fortunately, my mother was able to join me, even in times of pandemic, to be by my side during the operation. I realized at that moment that health was the most important aspect. These injuries affected me at the time, but they also sounded like an inner awakening. I was able to put the cursor on what matters and in sport it is health.

Q: How do you deal with loneliness and being away from your loved ones? A: That's not easy either. I love Switzerland. I love being here with my family and friends. It's very important, even more so during the summer, to be with the people who matter, to recharge my batteries. When I go back to the United States, my life pretty much revolves around hockey. Well, only around hockey. We play three to four games a week, we travel a lot. When my friends or family come to see me, it gives me a good boost. To sum up, I appreciate both situations: my life there but also being able to come back, recharge my batteries and go back to America to give my all in hockey.

Q: Who are your friends and how do you find the balance between hockey and everything else? A: In the team, I share a lot of things with Jonas Siegenthaler and Timo Meier. Guys I already knew from a young age. It's cool to be able to play with them. I'm also lucky to have been able to meet players from other countries, to meet new people. Americans, Canadians, Swedes, Czechs. It's very enriching to have all these cultures and to be able to come together around a common passion.

Q: Has life in the United States changed you? What is American in you? A: Open-mindedness. Being open to others, to meeting new people. You don't need to be friends with everyone, but it is important to listen to others, to take their opinions into account. Nevertheless, I remain very Swiss, I feel very Swiss. 

Q: What do you mean? A: I don't know. I'm still very close to my family, my friends. I try not to attract too much attention. I'm content with little things, simple things. A good dinner, a raclette from time to time, a good glass of wine. These are moments that I appreciate.

Q: Let's talk about your club, the New Jersey Devils. A club that has evolved considerably since your arrival? A: That's for sure. It's very different from what I knew when I started. We were among the youngest on the team with Jasper Brett and Pavel Zacha. The other teammates were all more or less in their thirties. Everything was new to me. But it was good. I was able to learn a lot from all the experienced players. They made me understand a lot of things. What it means to be a Devil, how to take care of your body, it was very varied. In the middle of my journey, the team got younger and I had to take on more and more responsibilities. Today, there are obviously some younger than me. It's changed a lot in 7 years and that's normal. For my part, I try hard to present the best version of myself every day. 

Q: You are seen as a leader. You are a leader. Was that natural for you? A: Absolutely. On the ice, it's clear. I've always wanted to do things well. I've always wanted to win. A true leader has to have that mentality, putting your ego aside for the good of the team. Off the ice, I'm not the most visible or the loudest but I also enjoy the camaraderie, the jokes and the outings. Maybe that's where I have the most to learn. But I'm still learning. I'm only 25 years old. There's still more to explore. 

Q: You might think that communication is essential? A: It is very important. You never know how people react, what they need. You have to find a good balance between what you give, what you ask and what you receive. To be a leader, you need empathy, understanding but also firmness in your demands. Some aspects were more complicated for me but I try to find the right balance.

Q: Is the feeling of representing Switzerland even stronger when you have a career so far away like you? A: It's clear. They speak Swiss German in the locker room. I meet friends I had known in juniors. Hockey remains a small world, a small environment and not just in Switzerland. And it's always nice to meet up with people you know to share such an experience in a world championship.

Q: Are you ambitious, optimistic for the next big events, the 2026 Olympics and the 2026 World Cup? A: Of course. We have proven in recent years that we have a very good Swiss team. We know how it works in sport. Every piece is important, every detail counts to reach the top. But we have to believe in our chances. And we have a good group, as I said. I am looking forward to the next tournaments. The Olympic Games are certainly a dream for me, having never been there. It is different from a world championship but we will have the same ambition. You never know in sport. 

Q: Your season is so long. You could skip the Swiss national team selections. Why is it so important? For the good times, the ones that remain. I grew up watching Switzerland. And to be able to represent them, it really means something special to me. It's always a pleasure to wear this jersey, to see the fans of the national team. It gives me a lot of joy. It hasn't happened yet, but the only reason that would make me give up would be physical unavailability or mental fatigue. If I feel fit, I'll go. If not, it's a matter of being honest and giving up, because it wouldn't be good for me or for the team. 

[stclaretarot]

PICK A CARD ⭒ which ancestor is reaching out to you?

reminder that this is a general reading and messages found here may not apply to everyone. take what resonates, leave what doesn't, and don't force anything if it does not fit.

BOOK A READING WITH ME · LINKTREE · 18+ PATREON · SUGGEST A PAC TOPIC · TIPS ♡ tips, bookings, and feedback are highly appreciated!

GROUP ONE

cards · the high priestess, queen of wands, king of pentacles, page of pentacles

channelled songs · stand by me by wayv. gangsta luv by snoop dogg & the-dream. i will follow you into the dark by death cab for cutie.

hey there group one ♡ this is a paternal ancestor, a female ancestor from your father’s side. she is slavic, scandinavian or an indigenous person in this general area of europe.

sami, kurdish, and uyghur also come to mind.

this ancestor may be your father’s grandmother, or the grandmother of a grandmother for example.

because of this, this is likely not someone you have met -- though she has watched over you since you were born. no, since earlier. since before your conception. she has prayed and willed you into existence.

GROUP TWO

cards · the lovers, the world, nine of swords, six of pentacles.

channelled songs · bodak yellow by cardi b. restraint by florence + the machine. eternal sunshine by ambré & g-eazy.

hey there group two ♡ this is someone who died for love. suddenly, i keep thinking about the movies ‘bladerunner 2049’ and ‘mulan’. in both movies we see characters who are driven by love, who go on these grand journeys and fight these battles so much bigger than them all because of love. love in whatever shape or form.

this ancestor is someone who died at war. they may have been a general, for some of you, while for others of you they were a common soldier. they were likely drafted, or had a legal or familial obligation to fulfil, and the only thing that got them through this was the love for a woman.

he would sit up at night thinking of her, looking at the picture he carried around of her, and telling himself he had to make it out to get back to her.

this ancestor is likely japanese (specifically ainu), chinese, brazilian or cuban.

GROUP THREE

cards · ten of challenges, page of cups, ten of pentacles, the fool.

channelled songs · i’m that girl by beyoncé. que me quedes tú by shakira. just the lonely talking again by whitney houston.

hey there group three ♡ this is not really an ancestor… as, ancestor -- at least to me -- denotes someone who died many, many, many years ago. decades and centuries ago. but this person who is reaching out to you is someone who died fairly recently, as this is your father.

in life, your father may have been a man overburdened by stress and worry. he aged fast and young because of the hard life he lived, and died young because of it.

he had a lot of love for you and your family, and took a lot of pride in the life he was trying to build for you, but it was harder than he ever could have ever expected.

he had never been prepared for the harsh reality of life, but he did the best he could with the hand he was given.

GROUP FOUR

cards · queen of pentacles, king of pentacles, the devil, the magician.

channelled songs · a departue - audiotree live version by la dispute. the lady in my life by michael jackson. the bomb dot come v2.0 by sleeping with sirens.

hey there group four ♡ instead of just one ancestor, this is two ancestors who are reaching out to you. a pair of ancestors. soulmates. two people who lived together and died together; who gave their all to each other until the very end.

and then even after the end, in the divine realm as your guides watching over you.

they may have been star-crossed lovers, forbidden to be together by their respective families -- or by the culture and society in which they were born and in which they had to live. and so they ran away.

for some of you, this effort to run away was futile and they decided to take their lives, together, to end this once and for all. for others of you, they were able to get away and have their happy ending.

these ancestors may be from mexico, bosnia, greece. america especially during the antebellum period also comes to mind.

[bunniesandbeheadings]

Also said it once, gonna say it again

Napoleon should be played by an unknown. Yeah, give the starring role of your blockbuster biopic to some unknown 30-something actor (so makeup can have him play old or young Napoleon), who hasn’t appeared in anything more prestigious than a Denny’s commercial

And then give all the other Kings and Tsars to A-listers. Have this fucking nobody lording over, like, Leonardo DiCaprio.

The audience would go “wtf”

And see, it would be close to how people felt at the time. Yeah there’s this 30-something year old weirdo we’ve never heard of straddling Europe. That’s Odd.

It would’ve been cool! You can’t tell me there’s no starving artist 30-something who could’ve killed it as Napoleon better than Phoenix. I mean it’s a low bar but still

[floralcrematorium]

2010s Nostalgia || Hetalia Edition

Hetalia Youtube Nostalgia Playlist | 117 songs | 7hr 5min

• Hey Na Na - Katie Herzig • Viva La Vida - Coldplay • Rasputin - Boney M. • Glad You Came - The Wanted • Hot Mess - Cobra Starship • Counting Stars - OneRepublic • Fireflies - Owl City • Bombshell Blonde - The Jagged Edges • Do Better - Say Anything • Welcome To The Show - Britt Nicole • Dance With The Devil - Breaking Benjamin • Survive - Sick Puppies • Life is Beautiful - Sixx:A.M. • Fairytale - Alexander Rybak • Everybody Loves Me - One Republic • Don't Mess With Me - temposhark • Mimimi - SEREBRO • I Like It Loud - Cash Cash • I Just Wanna Run - The Downtown Fiction • I'm ALIVE! - Becca • Lovestruck - Breathe Electric • I Like To Dance - Hot Chelle Rae • Haven't Had Enough - Marianas Trench • Kiss Me Thru The Phone - Soulja Boy, Sammie • Hard out Here - Lily Allen • Runaway Baby - Bruno Mars • I Don't Care - Fall Out Boy • Airplanes - B.o.B., Hayley Williams • Rock Star - Prima J • This Is War - Thirty Seconds To Mars • Hey Brother - Avicii • Cinderella - Tata Young • Centuries - Fall Out Boy • Déjà Vu - 3OH!3 • Sexy, Naughty, Bitchy Me - Lene Alexandra • Miss Jackson - Panic! At The Disco, LOLO • The Ballad of Mona Lisa - Panic! At The Disco • Europe's Skies - Alexander Rybak • Bad Apple!! - RichaadEB, Cristina Vee • Lying Is The Most Fun A Girl Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes Off - Panic! At The Disco • Let's Kill Tonight - Panic! At The Disco • Hurricane - Panic! At The Disco • Casual Affair - Panic! At The Disco • Never Close Our Eyes - Adam Lambert • Playing With Fire - Ovi, Paula Seling • Angel With A Shotgun - The Cab • Nicotine - Panic! At The Disco • Killer - The Ready Set • How to Be a Heartbreaker - MARINA • This Ain't A Scene, It's An Arms Race - Fall Out Boy • Na Na Na (Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na) - My Chemical Romance • Troublemaker - Olly Murs, Flo Rida • Good Girls Go Bad - Cobra Starship, Leighton Meester • I Can't Decide - Scissor Sisters • One Woman Army - Porcelain Black • How To Start A War - Simon Curtis • Maps - Maroon 5 • Do Better - Say Anything • STARSTRUKK - 3OH!3 • Remember Everything - Five Finger Death Punch • The Diary of Jane - Breaking Benjamin • Seven Nation Army - The White Stripes • When You're Evil - Aurelio Voltaire • Canadian, Please - Julia Bentley, Gunnarolla • Sarah Smiles - Panic! At The Disco • Take Me to Church - Hozier • Viking Death March - Billy Talent • Headstrong - Trapt • Semi-Charmed Life - Third Eye Blind • Don't Believe A Word - Third Eye Blind • Warriors - Imagine Dragons • iNSaNiTY - CircusP • Paralyzer - Finger Eleven • I'm Awesome - Spose • 24 - Jem • Clarity - Zedd, Foxes • Hall of Fame - The Script, will.i.am • The Is Gospel - Panic! At The Disco • Immortals - Fall Out Boy • Rather Be - Clean Bandit, Jess Glynne • Wake Me Up - Avicii • a thousand years - Christina Perri • Just Like Fire - P!nk • Safe & Sound - Taylor Swift, The Civil Wars • Safe And Sound - Capital Cities • Everybody Wants To Rule The World - Lorde • Demons - Imagine Dragons • DNA - Little Mix • Remember The Name - Fort Minor, Styles of Beyond • Victorious - Panic! At The Disco • 右肩の蝶 (Butterfly On Your Right Shoulder) - Kagamine Rin/Len • We Are One (Ole Ole) - Pitbull, Jennifer Lopez, Claudia Leitte • Hero - Skillet • Maraca - Mohombi • The Phoenix - Fall Out Boy • DONTTRUSTME - 3OH!3 • Teenage Dream - Katy Perry • SING - My Chemical Romance • Good Time - Owl City, Carly Rae Jepsen • White Rabbit - Egypt Central • Not Gonna Die - Skillet • The Kill - Thirty Seconds To Mars • We No Speak Americano - Yolanda Be Cool, DCup • Nobody's Listening - Linkin Park • Disco Pogo - Die Atzen • German Sparkle Party - The Something Experience • Dirty Little Secret - The All-American Rejects • I Could Be The One - Avicii, Nicky Romero • Can't Hold Us - Macklemore & Ryan Lewis • Still Into You - Paramore • Primadonna - MARINA • Pompeii - Bastille • 恋愛サーキュレーション (Renai Circulation) - 物語シリーズ • Awake And Alive - Skillet • Monster - Skillet • Poker Face - Lady Gaga • Falling Inside The Black - Skillet

[nayziiz]

Witness | CL16

Summary: In the shadowy world of Monaco's elite, the Leclerc family reigns supreme. Charles Leclerc, the charming middle son, maintains their pristine public image—until one rainy night, during a fit of rage, Charles does the unthinkable. A young woman witnesses his actions, and her terrified eyes haunt him. Consumed by guilt and fear of exposure, Charles embarks on a desperate search to find her before she can destroy his family’s legacy. As he delves deeper into Monaco's underbelly, Charles must confront his own darkness and the lengths he will go to protect his family.

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x OC (name to be revealed)

Warnings: Violence, blood, angst

Masterlist

Chapter 1

The Leclerc family was a name whispered in awe and fear across Europe. They were a dynasty built on power, wealth, and an unyielding code of loyalty. At the helm was Pascale Leclerc, a woman of unmatched grace and formidable strength. Widowed early, she had single-handedly nurtured her empire and her sons, instilling in them the same indomitable spirit that had forged their legacy.

Pascale's three sons were as different as they were indispensable to the family's operations. Lorenzo, the eldest, was the family's anchor. A man of few words, he shunned the spotlight, preferring to navigate the complex web of their financial empire from the shadows. His meticulous nature and unerring judgment made him the backbone of their financial success, ensuring every transaction, every investment, was flawlessly executed.

Arthur, the youngest, was a prodigy with a flair for the entrepreneurial. Despite his youth, he had an uncanny knack for identifying and nurturing the family's smaller, yet highly profitable ventures. Arthur's enthusiasm and innovative ideas injected new life into their enterprises, making him a rising star within the family ranks.

And then there was Charles, the charismatic middle child. Charles was the face of the Leclerc family, the diplomat who moved with ease through high society and business circles alike. He was the one who smiled and shook hands, sealing deals and forging alliances with a charm that belied the ruthlessness beneath. Charles was the family’s shield, ensuring that their operations always appeared legitimate, always above reproach.

The Leclerc brothers never got their hands dirty; they always had someone to do their dirty work for them, people who left no traces behind. Until one very rainy night in Monte Carlo when some brave soul thought stealing Charles' €400,000 Richard Mille RM UP-01 Ferrari watch was a good idea. It was a simple enough plan. The man followed Charles as he walked out of the casino and stopped him by the car pretending to ask for directions. When Charles lifted his hand to point in a certain direction, the man saw the perfect opportunity to try to snatch the watch.

There was a struggle, and before Charles knew it, they were down a dark alley. The rain pounded relentlessly, masking the sounds of their scuffle. The would-be thief underestimated Charles. In a surge of primal fury, Charles found himself repeatedly punching the man through the face until he was unconscious and eventually no longer breathing. He didn't know what possessed him, but something snapped in his mind that night.

Charles stood there, drenched and panting, staring at the lifeless body before him. The rain washed away the blood from his knuckles, but it couldn't cleanse the darkness that had surged from within. He had always been the charming diplomat, the public face of the family. But now, with the cold rain and the colder realisation of what he'd done, Charles knew that the mask he wore had irrevocably slipped.

Charles returned to his Ferrari Daytona SP3, hands covered in blood. As he reached for the door, he looked up and met the eyes of a frightened and frozen young woman. She stood a few meters away, her face pale and eyes wide with terror. He attempted a small smile, a reflex of his practiced charm, but it only seemed to magnify her fear. The woman turned and ran, her footsteps echoing down the sidewalk, disappearing into the shadows of the surrounding buildings.

She had seen everything. She saw how Charles snapped and kept punching the man. She wanted to stop him, but she couldn't move. It was like her feet were cemented into the pavement as she watched the drenched men fight over something she knew nothing about, but she saw enough to scare her into a different dimension. She ended up cancelling her shift at work, citing a bout of vomiting as the cause for her absence. She wasn't lying. When she got back to her and her best friend's apartment, she spent the rest of the night throwing up her entire day's meals.

As Charles drove away, he couldn't shake the image of her terrified eyes. He knew that his life, and possibly hers, had changed irrevocably in that rain-soaked alley. The cracks in the Leclerc family's facade were starting to show, and it was only a matter of time before everything began to crumble.

She had heard about the Leclerc brothers a few times since she moved to Monaco, but she never saw them. They were the stuff of local legend, their names whispered in hushed tones at the markets, cafes, and in the bustling streets of the city. She knew they were powerful, influential, and perhaps even dangerous, but she didn't even know what they looked like. If only she knew she made eye contact with Charles Leclerc. If only she knew the amount of anxiety her presence caused.

For Charles, the days following the incident were a blur of paranoia and dread. He spent the following three days waiting for the police to show up at his doorstep, waiting to call Lorenzo to bail him out, but nothing. He had mentally prepared himself for the sound of sirens, the cold steel of handcuffs, and the grim faces of law enforcement officers as they took him away. Each passing hour was a test of his sanity, his nerves fraying under the weight of his guilt and anticipation.

He thought she called the police to report the murder, but nothing. The silence was both a relief and a torment. He had the body disposed of as discreetly as possible that same night, utilising the family’s network of loyal associates who specialised in making problems disappear. The rain had been merciless, washing away any other evidence of the encounter, leaving only the haunting memory of that night etched in his mind.

Yet every time Charles saw the bruises and gashes on his knuckles, her petrified face would flash through his mind. The vivid image of her wide, frightened eyes lingered, a stark reminder of his loss of control. He desperately wanted to explain to her why he did what he did, that he didn’t normally commit such heinous acts. He wanted her to understand that he was not a monster, that there were circumstances, fears, and pressures that had driven him to that moment of madness.

But how does he explain to Lorenzo and Arthur there was a witness to the murder he committed and he had no idea who she was, where she lived, or worked? The mere thought of their reactions filled him with dread. Lorenzo, with his calculating mind, would demand a solution, a way to neutralise the threat. Arthur, the heart of the family, would be shaken, his faith in Charles's composure shattered. So he didn't tell them about the murder and he didn't tell them about her. The secret festered within him, a poison he couldn’t expel.

He had to find her. The compulsion grew stronger with each passing day. He knew it was a dangerous obsession, but he couldn't help himself. He needed to see her again, to make sure she wouldn’t destroy his life. He needed to explain, to somehow make amends. The problem was, he had no idea where to begin looking for her. The streets of Monaco, once a familiar playground of power and luxury, had become a labyrinth of uncertainty.

Charles's search for the mystery woman quickly became more desperate. He trawled through the streets where he had last seen her, visited the local establishments, hoping to catch a glimpse of her. His inquiries were subtle, his approach cautious, but the urgency behind them was undeniable. His nights were restless, his days consumed by the hunt.

He had to find her. Not just to silence the witness, but to find some semblance of peace. In his world of calculated moves and controlled appearances, she was the variable that could unravel everything. And as he delved deeper into Monaco's underbelly, one thing became clear: he was willing to go to any lengths to find her, to confront the fear and guilt that haunted him. Only then could he begin to piece his fractured life back together.

He had to find her.

[http-shield]

daisies, i think- bucky barnes

~ bucky barnes x fem!reader ~tags/cw: angst, budding friendship and romance, set in CA:CW timeline where Bucky is in Romania trying to piece back together his life, mixed POV ~ wc: 1.2k ~ not proofread

premise: ex-avengers employee, you have moved to Europe in order to get away from all things Shield. It is in Romania that you bump into a familiar man, a face you have only seen in the secret files you managed to get a glance at. You befriend the ghost of a man, determined to help him undo all the bad the world has done to him.

"You like Jasmine, right?" Bucky asks from across the small coffee table. 

"Uh, yeah. How did you-?" You grin at him, eyes squinting in apprehension at the sudden declaration. 

"I can remember some things," he answers and returns to the bowl of steaming noodles. "Not everything, but some things." the clarification comes a moment later. 

It's been two months since you moved into the small apartment on the outskirts of Bucharest. Two months of living in close quarters with Bucky, two months of getting to know him on a level you never thought you would. Two months. 

You clear your throat and ask. "What kind do you like?"

"Daisies. I think." He doesn't look up from his bowl, but you can see a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. "I saw them a lot while…"

Still unsure of how to refer to the period when he wasn't himself. "They grow everywhere, so I can always find them, and they're nice to look at." 

The noodles sit abandoned in front of you now. Your attention has shifted wholly onto James, who continues to eat despite disclosing something that shattered your heart. He never stopped being that young boy who was lost, never stopped looking for life in the depths of hell, never stopped being Bucky. 

"You gonna write that in your book?" 

The question catches you off guard. 

"You have that little book you write in. I thought it was a diary but you only write in after I tell you something. Plus I saw my name a bunch’a times”

Your cheeks flush. 

"Is it bad stuff?" Bucky looks up now, blue eyes broken and defeated. 

"No! Nothing bad!" You rush to answer, scrambling for the book you tucked under the table and flip it open to your latest entry. "It's all good things, actually. Stuff that you like or remember or stories you tell me." 

Bucky's posture relaxes, shoulders sagging a little at the assurance you weren't keeping tabs on his slip-ups. 

You continue, opening to a page filled with drawings of stars and planets.  "This is when you told me that you went to the Stark expo before you shipped off and how you wished you could see space one day." you point to the stars that adorn the margin. "That's why there are little stars. I've been writing it all down so that if one day you need to remember something and we aren't together, I can give you the book, and you'll have all your memories." 

The heat in your cheeks deepens as you confess your reasoning behind the notetaking. 

"Steve, your umm…"

"I know Steve," Bucky confirms with a slight smile. 

"Steve has a book just like this with all the things he missed or wants to remember, so I copied him." it feels infantile using the word copied, but you can't think of anything better. "You can have it now if you want?'

"You leavin' me?" The sadness returns for a split second.

"No." your answer is firm. 

Light floods his blue eyes, shimmering like the sun on the ocean. "Then keep it. I'll take it when you finish it."

There's hope in his words. Determination that he will remember who he was and who he hopes to be. You find yourself smiling at that, admiring how much he is trying and how you can see yourself finishing this book and starting another.

-------------

"Do you think we should get some curtains?" your proposal has Bucky pausing in the kitchen, boiling water sloshing in the small pot he had just pulled from the stove.

He looks to the windows, plastered with newspapers to keep out prying eyes, and while he never thought about customising his apartment, your suggestion stirs something within him.

"If you want." the answer feels so domestic and ordinary that he forgets who and where he is. For a moment, he is no longer in a dingy apartment on the run and unstable in his own identity, but he is at home with you. He is in an apartment in Brooklyn, not far from where he grew up, in a small and cozy one-bedroom flat that he shares with you and your cat. You aren't the kind and strange girl who picked him up off the street like a stray, but you're so much more, someone he wishes he met in another life. He watches you frame the window with your fingers, face crinkled as you close one eye and determine the best shape and style of drapery for the space. His heart squeezes, a feeling wholly unfamiliar in his aching body.

"I can get some tomorrow after work?" another offer of complete and utter everyday ease. "Yellow? With daisies?"

Bucky grins at that.

"Or pink with jasmine?"

A small laugh escapes you, and you drop your hands. "One pink and one yellow?"

Bucky nods and returns to emptying that water from the pot, watching as the potatoes drop into the colander in the skin. He had offered to cook tonight, an easy recipe he had overheard while out today from two older ladies sitting in the square, their voices loud and bousitruous despite the sensitive nature of their conversation. The recipe was easy enough. Boil potatoes until soft, season them and cook them in the oven. Simple, easy. Perfect for his muddled mind to follow.

"Want help?" Your voice is closer, and Bucky jumps slightly. You reach out and grab his arm, hoping not to scare him further, but Bucky's heart starts in a race for an entirely different reason.

He gulps. "No need. thank you, ma'am." the words fall from his lips before his brain can form them.

"Ma'am?" you furrow your brows at him. "Where did that come from?"

Bucky turns to you, his face crinkled in confusion as he shakes his head. "I have no idea."

There is a beat of silence as you reach into your back pocket for the small book you had stuffed in there after your walk home. You open it to a blank page and date it to the top before writing your entry.

Calls people ma'am.

"Not people, women. " Bucky sighs as he reads over the edge of the paper. "Ladies, dames, girls."

"Dames?" laughter is building within you as he cites different words for women, most of which you hadn't heard outside of a movie from the forties.

You can't stop the laugh that spills from you, and soon, Bucky follows suit, enjoying how his stomach and shoulders feel as he laughs. It feels good, beyond good; its amazing, divine, marvelous, s'wonderful.

"You are a funny man, Bucky Barnes." You sigh as the laughter subsides, a hand sweeping over his shoulders. He notices how your fingers linger on the joint of his prosthetic arm, and for some reason, he doesn't feel as much guilt filling his stomach like lead. When they brush down his arms to entwine with his fingers, another sensation takes over his gut entirely. It's tingly and hot, twisting and sitting low in his body. He worries it's a bad feeling, familiar in a way that has his mind screaming, but there is no fear, no guilt, nothing but warmth like the sun on a winter's day, so he sits with it and lets you hold his hand until the timer on dinner dings.

a/n: apart of a bigger fic but this is sort of the first taste of it to see how I feel about writing/posting it.

[bluetooththereptile]

"It's raw!"

Male reader is Alfred's grandson, that he knew nothing about, Julia had a twin sister and she moved to Europe with her mother's side of family without Alfred knowing, which ended up in resulting in another branch of pennyworh family in Europe which is extensive. The grandson is basically Gordon Ramsey, but with criminal records and large restaurant franchises and TV shows, he has just opened a grand hotel and restaurant in Gotham and visits Juilla, which in return Alfred meets the young chef progeny that has a chokehold on michelin stars in just age of 21.

Though everything is dandy on the outside, the grandson is victim of domestic abuse that his wife of three years had forced him into, an older woman that seduced him before baby trapping him into hell, his family doesn't want to believe his wife is abusive, he's a man, how can a woman do something to him that makes him cry at nights? Not to mention the paparazzi and the media would eat him alive. He's here to ask help and he's desperate, he needs his family to help.

And boy doesn't it make a messy situation when Bruce and others find out that the chef is also a criminal?