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tojipie · 11 months

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as long as trade professions exists i WILL write this man working as each and every one of them.

mechanic toji x fem reader | 2.2k words !

content: smut ! semi public (??) not sure if garage sex counts

the feeling of your shoes losing their grip nearly sends you flying as you step into the car shop lobby.

whoever was working tonight clearly had no grasp on what a wet floor sign was, opting to cover the floor in what felt like 2 feet of suds.

“oh! sorry!” suguru exclaims, extending an arm for you to hold onto. “you okay?”

“i’m ok sugu,” you tell him, feeling your anger dissipate at the sight of the shop’s newest bright-eyed apprentice.

you can practically hear him asking you not to tell his boss, eyes big like a kicked puppy.

the smile you shoot him is soft and reassuring.

suguru apologizes again, grabbing a caution sign from the supply closet.

“he’s in the garage if that’s who you’re looking for.” the apprentice adds, sending you in your husband's direction with a smile.

“toji?” you yell, scanning the 8-door garage for his telltale mop of black hair.

“on your right!” he shouts, waving an oil-stained hand in the air to flag you down. cars in varying conditions line your path as you make a beeline for your husband, following his black footprints like breadcrumbs

a 59’ impala comes into view as you weave in between the tall legs of the suspension machines. toji is crouched on the driver’s side with his back to you, fiddling with the front end of the vehicle.

“woah,” you whisper, trailing your hand over interior seats wrapped in glossy leather.

the cherry red exterior of the classic car is blinding, waxed to perfection by none other than the man in front of you

“aht, aht—hey.” toji chides, motioning for you to get your hands off the car.

“no fingerprints,” he says firmly, tossing you a rag from his equipment cart.

you quickly wipe down the headrest of the driver's seat, restoring it to its original sheen. the residue left on your hand smells like lemons, the sterile scent of carwash soap.

“you fix this up by yourself?” you ask, watching him fasten a new headlight into place. the amount of detailing was beyond impressive.

“course i did.” your husband chuckles. “can’t even trust these other guys with an oil change.”

you laugh, recalling the shop’s newest employee and your little wet floor debacle. toji reaches for the back of your calf, rubbing your leg affectionately from his spot on the floor.

“you’re the one that hires them.” you remind him.

“yeah, gotta stop doing that,” he mumbles, snorting at the way you smack his shoulder in protest.

the impala looks fresh off the conveyor belt with the amount of restoration that had been done to it. you can’t quite recall the last time you’d seen toji put this much work into a vehicle.

“what’s the story with this one?” you ask, stepping back to let your husband stand up.

navy blue coveralls come into view as toji rises from the floor, chest peeking out from where the one-piece garment is unzipped. he’s filthy, covered in motor oil and sweat. god, he looked good.

the raven-haired mechanic steps back with a cocky smile, zipping the garment down to just above his waist.

“what, like what you see?” he asks, slipping toned arms out of his uniform and tying the excess around his waist.

your mouth goes dry, eagerly taking in the way his body ripples under his black tank top.

“nah, nothing i haven’t seen before.” you tease, taking the spray bottle and cloth he holds out for you.

“right, okay.” your husband laughs, ego clearly knocked down a peg.

you’re wiping down the front windshield when he speaks again, answering your question from earlier.

“one of our regulars dropped her off a week ago, needed some help with parts,” he explains. the “her” in question being the obscenely glossy car in between the two of you.

“how’d the inside look?” you ask, strolling over to the sink. the smell of leather polish and windex gradually fades with a bit of scrubbing.

your husband scoffs, recalling the abhorrent state of the under-hood.

“fuck.. awful.” he explains, handing you a roll of paper towels. “some people don’t deserve cars like these.” he laughs, rubbing your back as you join him at the hood.

your husband fiddles with the tool cart, wheeling it closer to begin working on the tires.

“you look good tonight.” toji mumbles, leaning down to accept a kiss from you. you tug on the neck of his wifebeater just as he begins to pull away, roping him into a deeper kiss this time.

“careful.” scarred lips mumble. you feel his hand trail down your back, slipping under the waistband of your jeans and leaving just as fast.

“stop being a tease,” you tell him.

“s’ one hour till quitting time.” he says, grabbing a wrench from the cart. “can you make it, pretty girl? or do you need it right now?”

“i can wait.” you lie, not wanting to distract him from the job.

he nods, clearly not believing you.

“you remember how to get these bolts off?” he asks, handing you the wrench with a sly grin. his hulking form settles behind you as you crouch down in front of the tire he’d picked.

vintage cars like these needed a lot more manual work, not being able to withstand the force of any automated tools.

you unscrew the bolt with ease, fidgeting at the feeling of two warm hands rubbing up and down your waist.

“mhm, just like i taught you.” toji says, nosing at the curve of your neck.

you twist another one free, groaning at the feeling of scarred lips suctioning onto your neck.

“can’t focus.” you whimper, trying to wiggle free of your husband’s embrace.

“s’ not your job to focus.” he chuckles, biting the meat of your shoulder for good measure. toji takes the equipment from you and replaces the bolts with new ones, motioning for you to stand up.

you wait as he washes up in the sink, scrubbing the grime from his hands and forearms. thick hands dry themselves on his uniform, stalking over to you with a look that can only be described as lust.

“think that’s all for today,” he says, voice hinting at something much deeper.

“you’re still on the clock,” you tell him half seriously, taking note of the 45 minutes left in his shift. still, warm hands settle on your hips, backing you up against the washing station

“yeah?” he says, entertaining your jest. deft fingers slip under the hem of your shirt, lifting the garment off your body.

“funny how that works out.” he starts, “guess I'll have to live with getting paid to fuck you.”

your skin is on fire, prickling with every calculated brush of his hand. you lean up to kiss him again, feeling his tongue flit over your bottom lip.

“someone will hear,” you whine in between kisses.

“they know not to bring it up around me,” he says, lifting you onto the counter with ease.

toji’s zipper is next to go, stopping just under his crotch to reveal his boxers.

convenient you think, palming him through the opening in his coveralls. now that you think about it, why hadn’t you two fucked in the shop before?

scared lips peck over the tops of your covered breasts, biting down momentarily to leave a red mark.

the whine that escapes your mouth echoes throughout the spacious garage. blood rushing to your ears as embarrassment takes over.

“shhhh,” he tells you, crowding impossibly closer to muffle your sounds.

“can you stay quiet for me?” he asks, genuinely curious. a small nod is all he needs to seal your mouths in another kiss, shucking your bottoms down along with your panties to position himself in between your thighs.

you scoot to the edge of the counter, kicking off your shoes and wrapping your legs around your husband's waist. he doesn’t free himself from his boxers just yet, choosing to grind himself on your heat while you leave dark hickeys at the bottom of his neck.

“fuck.” he groans, flinching at how loud the sound echoes in the garage.

“quiet,” you whisper.

“i know, i know baby.” you watch as toji hooks a thumb into his boxers, his manhood already dripping with pre.

you pull away from your husband's neck right as he pushes in, a thin string of saliva connecting you to the dark bloom of purple your lips had left.

it’s a tight fit, but not impossible. the angle you’re at has you clenching down on the cock that’s splitting you open, squeezing him like a vice.

“fuck.” you whimper, lifting your husband’s tank top to expose his abs. toji bites the hem for you, letting you caress the dips of his toned muscles.

the distant echo of his rhythmic thrusts reverberates throughout the shop, drowning out your shared pants and groans.

“no fucking point in being quiet, huh?.” he mumbles with a smirk, taking you by surprise as thick fingers slide under your thighs and hoist you into the air.

“wait—wh-” you’re cut off as toji turns around, holding himself inside of you as he walks you over to the car.

“oh shit.” you gasp, mouth agape as you’re set down on the long hood of the impala.

your husband props his knee up on the vehicle, pummeling into you at an angle even deeper than before.

“thought you—ah- said no fingerprints.” you whimper, feeling yourself slide up the hood of the car with every thrust.

thick arms wrap around you, holding you in place while your husband ruts into you from above.

“you’re helping me wipe this thing down after.--fuck” toji says with finality, pulling you into a deep kiss with a hand cradling the back of your head.

the car continues to rock as the two of you go at it, filling the shop with noises that are beyond sinful.

“wanna ride you,” you mumble, taking in the way his eyes darken.

you’re flipped and carried up the hood of the car, the two of you now fully seated on a bed of cherry red aluminum.

toji settles into his back, satisfied with his work. he does it all without leaving your walls, cock still buried to the hilt.

“come on.” he encourages, moving you up and down his shaft with two hands around your waist. you’re practically being tossed around on his cock like you weigh nothing, panting and groaning while your walls struggle to accommodate his length.

“just how i like it, give it to me,” he tells you, leaning back on his forearms to watch where you two connect.

“gonna make me fucking cum, shit.”

you rock yourself onto your husband's dick, feeling him twitch each time you sink to the base.

“wait, wait.” you pant, smiling at the idea that just dawned on you.

you let toji slip out of you for the first time in half an hour, readjusting so your back is to him. cautiously, you reach both arms back, feeling him wrap both hands around your wrists.

“reverse cowgirl? on a fucking chevy? shit.” he chuckles, clearly impressed at your bold move. the raven-haired mechanic gathers both your wrists in one hand, using the other to guide his cock back into your heat.

the first thrust is agonizingly deep, pushing you closer to your edge. strong legs anchor themselves onto the hood of the car, steel-toed work boots leaving murky footprints.

“ah shit—like this?” toji groans, each hand holding your arms behind you at the wrist.

“want it like this? want me to ruin you?

"please." you groan, feeling your climax hit you like a tsunami.

the sound that rips out of toji is purely carnal, a long groan reverberating throughout the garage.

"fuck--oh fuck-hah" he pants, still reeling from the sensation of your walls pulsating around him.

you slowly lift off of his cock, holding onto his leg to balance. warm, viscous fluid drips down your thighs and onto the red surface beneath you. you hadn't even realized he came inside with how intense your climax was.

"fuck, look at this." the raven-haired mechanic chuckles.

the state of the car is absolutely abhorrent. obsidian footprints bleed into sweaty handprints. you'd think a game of twister went down if you didn't know any better.

"oh shit." you frown, stepping onto solid ground for the first time in half an hour.

guilt gnaws away at you at the thought of toji's hard work going to waste. this was his only form of income after all.

"hey, not a problem." he coos, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"s' nothing some scrubbing can't fix, right?" you nod, lifting your arms to let him redress you.

navy coveralls zip back into place, covering the mess of hickeys you left on his chest.

you finally button up your jeans, frowning at a murky streak of oil across one of the legs.

"must've tossed those on the ground when I took em' off of you." he chuckles, dodging a swat from you.

You pad into the lobby first, blissfully unaware of a very disturbed sugaru sitting at the front desk.

your husband follows soon after, watching you walk into the parking lot.

“see ya, man.” the mechanic says plainly, shooting his apprentice a smug wave with a laugh.

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peppermintquartz · 4 months

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Explicit.

Yes, with the Daddy kink.

"God, I hope so."

Tommy can't believe those words left his mouth, but what is a guy to do when Evan Buckley is sitting so close looking delectable?

Evan only gazes at him, smiling in a way that seems to be hinting at something naughty. Tommy refuses to squirm in his seat. He's thirty-nine years old, he's not going to be a shy little prude about what he likes. Been there, done that, bought the t-shirts and the leather cuffs.

"I don't know, Tommy," says Evan slowly, spearing some salad on his fork, "I may need some persuading to, uh, open up to you more about my daddy issues."

He chews and raises an eyebrow in challenge.

Okay, that's it.

"Challenge accepted." Tommy feels a slow heat building at the base of his spine, but tucks that away for now. The dinner is really good and he's not about to deprive Evan of the energy he'll need. And Tommy is going to make sure Evan expends a lot of energy.

They chat about other matters: about flying for the army versus flying for the fire department, about bartending, about how Evan sued the fire department for wrongful termination ("yes, I was on blood thinners, and yes, I'm still very careful"), about the first car Tommy restored.

By the end of the meal, Tommy is less concerned with what they're talking about and more concerned about Evan's wine-stained lips and dark eyes. And from the way Evan's foot is rubbing up and down Tommy's calf, he thinks the younger man isn't interested in conversation any longer either.

"Let's clean up," Tommy suggests. He doesn't mean to drop his voice further, but the words come out in a low rumble. Evan's eyes darken even more.

They load up the dishwasher together, Tommy knowing enough about Evan not to usurp the task. When Evan closes the door to the machine and starts it up, Tommy reels his boyfriend in and says, "Good boy."

Evan swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing. "I just put some plates in the dishwasher. That's hardly difficult."

"True," Tommy allows, then swivels Evan around to face the sink, where the salad bowl is sat. "Wash that now, hmm?" He keeps his hands on Evan's hips as Evan washes up quickly, and firmly pins him against the counter when he takes the bowl, his arms going around his boyfriend to dry the wooden bowl and set it aside.

"Tommy?" Evan sounds a little breathless. "What are you..."

"Shh. Good boys don't interrupt." Tommy turns him around again, noses along Evan's jawline and breathes him in. He flicks his tongue out and plays with Evan's earlobe before biting softly on it. Evan shudders and moans, wrapping his arms around Tommy's waist and shoulder.

Tommy feels his pulse kick up another notch. He pushes a thigh between Evan's knees, and gratifyingly Evan allows it. Tommy needs to get closer, and reaches down to hook one leg up. Evan goes along with it, gasping when Tommy starts licking and sucking on that soft spot under his ear. He's hard against Tommy where their groins are pressed together, and his fingers are digging into the older man's back.

"Alright, baby, do you want it here or on the bed?" Tommy growls. He wants it to be good for Evan, he needs it to be good for Evan. He needs to see Evan undone completely.

"Bed," Evan says.

Tommy begins to move, then pauses. A wicked little smile crosses his face and he leans back to make sure Evan can see it. "That's not how you answer nicely, Evan."

Evan is flushed and his pupils already wide with lust. His mouth - and what a pretty, pretty mouth, Tommy wants to do all kinds of filthy things to it - is open, his breathing labored. "Tommy, bed, please."

Tommy is very pleased that he's strong enough to keep Buck pinned against the counter. He rocks his hips forward, hissing at the pleasurable pressure. "Ask nicely."

"I did, I said please!" Evan protests. He tries to push away from the counter but with one leg firmly hooked around Tommy's waist, he has little leverage.

Tommy leans forward to lick his way into Evan's mouth, unable to bear another second not tasting his boyfriend. "Ask Daddy nicely now."

Evan freezes for a second. His hands tighten where he's clutching Tommy, and for a heartbeat Tommy wonders if he's spooked the younger man.

Then Evan grabs Tommy by his neck and practically inhales him with hungry kisses. With a tiny jump, he wraps both legs around Tommy and, oh, that feels very encouraging, where Evan's hard cock is pressed against his abdomen.

"Take me to bed right fucking now, Daddy." It's Evan's turn to growl, and Tommy is very glad his knees are strong enough to hold him and Evan up.

It takes some tricky maneuvering before they do end up on the mattress, Tommy having had to relinquish his prize so they can both take the stairs without falling and hurting themselves, and they're stripping with the efficiency of men who know exactly what they want right now. Evan grabs the lube from the nightstand and Tommy tears open a condom.

It never fails to awe Tommy that his partners trust him so much with their bodies, and even more so with Evan. The younger man sighs into the pillows and allows Tommy into him with minimal prep, only the faintest of grimaces on his face where it may sting. Despite every nerve telling him to claim, Tommy holds still, chest heaving and arms trembling with the effort not to just thrust into that slick, hot tightness.

Evan's eyes flutter open. His pupils are blown and his lips redder than before. "Take me," he whispers. "Take me hard. I wanna feel it for days."

Tommy smacks Evan's thigh lightly. "Ask properly."

Evan licks his lips, a look of mischief fluttering over his face. His cheeks are pink and his hair fluffed up. "I don't want to."

The downfall of saints, this one, Tommy thinks, and thrusts, once, to remind Evan exactly who's in charge, and begins to pull out. "Really? Then I guess I'll just take a nap instead-"

"Wait, no, Daddy," Evan gasps, and his cheeks flame even darker with want.

Tommy is shaking inside with desire but he holds still. "Ask. Properly."

Evan blinks up at him. A coy smile curves his lips. "Please, Daddy, may I have more?"

Tommy kisses him. "Much better." He flexes his hips and thrusts into Evan's hot body. It is so much better. He loses himself to the rhythm and the feel of sweat-slick skin. Evan spreads his long legs even more and wraps his limbs around Tommy, breathing encouragement and pleas for moremoremore.

Reaching between them, Tommy wraps his big hand around Evan's hard cock. "Daddy's gonna take care of you," he rasps, stroking fast and firmly, his callused hand wet with Evan's precome. Evan whimpers, fingers raking over Tommy's back. Even in the haze of lovemaking, Tommy hopes Evan will leave scratch marks. It'll be satisfying to have visible reminders of pleasure.

"Please," Evan sobs when Tommy's thumb rubs over the head of his cock over and over, the pad of his thumb pressing into the wet slit. "Please, please, please Daddy please-"

Another soft cry and Evan's spilling hot and slick all over Tommy's hand, clenching down on Tommy's cock. Tommy valiantly strokes Evan through his climax until he's limp and breathless, telling him you're a good boy Evan, such a good boy for me, and suddenly Evan has a hand buried in Tommy's hair and he's squeezing down on Tommy's cock again - whatever Evan has been reading up on to build those muscles, Tommy is going to get a subscription, it feels incredible - and then Evan is whispering in his ear, "Come for me, Daddy, show me how I've been a good boy." And Tommy's vision whites out for a second, all sensation rushing inwards and exploding through his nerves.

When his brain comes back online, he realizes he's lying on his boyfriend like a huge immovable rock and carefully pulls out to roll to the side. Evan makes an unhappy sound as Tommy releases him from his weight, but snuggles closer once Tommy's got rid of the condom.

"I know I liked that," Tommy mumbles, his eyelids growing heavy from the post-coital hormones. "But was it good for you?"

"Yeah, yes it was," Evan replies, sounding just as sleepy. He drapes a long leg over Tommy's. "We'll be stuck together if we don't shower though."

Part of Tommy wants to say he doesn't fucking care, but another part knows that Evan won't appreciate the discomfort. He grunts and levers himself up onto his elbows.

In the dim light, Evan's an adorable, debauched angel with mussed hair and flushed skin. Tommy wishes he were twenty again, just so he can go one more round with Evan immediately.

"We can shower together," he says instead, and gets a sweet kiss. Then he adds with a hopeful bat of his eyelashes. "Shower sex?"

Evan raises his eyebrows. "We'll see if you're... up to it." With another twinkle and smirk, he tacks on, "Old man."

Delighted, Tommy smiles and grabs Evan's wrist. "Challenge accepted."

#bucktommy #tommy kinard #evan buckley #yes there is sex #i will upload to my ao3 too

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eatmangoesnekkid · 8 months

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Even if you are celibate, you want to still have access to arousal in your body instead of numbed out. You still want to have connection to your orgasmic range as well. I also know it's tender thing too because we weren't necessarily taught to think of arousal or orgasm beyond being in relationship to men or a lover. That's the huge shadow I'm seeing buried in the female psyche that hinders us in accessing deeper mysteries. We are literally the only mammal on the planet who has an organ whose sole function is pleasure: the clitoris. I want to be pristinely clear though that when I speak about "arousal" or "orgasmic range," I'm not necessarily talking about sex with a lover. I am, however, speaking the primal truth of the divine nature of a healthy female body and how it functions best--with orgasmic arousal energy flowing throughout from root to crown, whether due to seeing a stunning sunset over the wild horizons of South Africa, feeling the seat of the machine move deeper into your body while doing seated calf raises at the gym, or taking your time while making sourdough bread or incredible love with your Beloved lover. What's important to emphasize is that when you have high arousal or a large orgasmic capacity, you also have an enlarged amount of creative energy. Even if you are celibate, you have to transmute this energy beyond chronically masturbating, moving it up your spine and turning it into spiritual energy to manifest the most incredible ideas, next step directions, and advanced intuition. With celibacy, a movement practice is essential so that your energy doesn't pool or become too dense or heavy. And masturbation is fine, but too much masturbation drains your chi. You need art, hobbies, skills like learning a new language, fitness, creative projects, entrepeneurship, music, dance lessons, and the like. -India Ame'ye, Author

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ladylaviniya · 8 months

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The Negatives of Shooting People

Chapter 3 || MasterList || Chapter 5

Chapter Summary: The ten year anniversary soiree is here for August's Lion Lounge club. And he's awfully surprised to see you, an uninvited guest...careful now....

Chapter Warnings: 18+ Dead Dove Do Not Eat, Gambling, Non-Con, Piss, Manipulation, Threats, Sexual Assualt, Bondage, Murder, Violence, Strangulation, Public Execution, Kidnapping, Bondage, Slight Daddy Kink, Slight Puppy Play Kink, Petnames.

Pairing: Kingpin!August Walker X F!reader

Word Count: 8k

Author Notes: I honestly don't know how to gamble or how it works. I read a quick wiki instruction and played a game. If anyone actually knows how to play, let me know and I'll change the writing.

Inspiring Song: "Poker Face." By Lady Gaga.

07:00pm Friday 16th August 2024, Fortitude Valley, Brisbane.

When Lloyd met you in the foyer and escorted you to the car, you noticed how his neck was tight against his bow tie. His bruised face and knuckles had lightened. He had waxed his moustache and curled the tips upward.

He whistled low and gawked at you all over. Your foot rubbed the back of your calf shyly. You were decadent in pearls and metallic shimmering from your dress.

He reminded you that your role was too find August and do whatever you could to distract him from figuring out that Lloyd, a police officer undercover had infiltrated his event.

Lloyd gave you another hundred dollars and said it was for gambling and pleasure purposes only. If August could be distracted by a drink, a game of poker, a jukebox dance even a pokie machine, that should give Lloyd plenty of time to look around for an illegal weapons auction.

You both got out of the car and found yourself escorted on his arm passed the body guard checking the invites.

You clenched a small purse under your arm tighter as you entered the massive club. It left you briefly speechless.

The floor was covered in black and gold mixed marble. The club was an old building. Probably over a century or two old. It had a huge bar and multiple show rooms. On one stage was a burlesque dancer shaking her covered nipples. In another part was a casino theme of tables and machines. And to the sides were seats, tables and booths.

Lloyd got you both to sit down and he ordered a drink. He sipped his whiskey and glanced at the stairs that spiralled up to more private rooms.

“There he is, balcony, beside the blonde.”

You tried to not be obvious when you looked over your shoulder. August was smirking with a drink in his hand, shaking hands with an old bald gentleman with beady eyes and a brief case.

As that older fellow walked away Lloyd murmured, “And that’s our cue.”

He moved out of his seat and left the whiskey behind.

You waited a few minutes. You stared at the reflection of August in the whiskey glass and bit your lip. That man was a monster. He had raped you, humiliated you and made you scared…except now you had teeth and claws to flex.

You shut your eyes and prayed to get out alive. Picking up the glass you tossed your head back and finished what Lloyd had left. Your lipstick smudged the beautiful glasswork.

You abandoned the booth and deposited the glass.

You turned back and started to glide up those stairs in your small heeled feet. You felt immaculate, confident. And you were sure…he had seen you as you ran your hand up the banister.

You slowly moved around him. He hadn’t turned to look at you yet. A blonde woman was on his other side, whispering in his ear with her seductive rose lips. She was gorgeous, legs long and slender waist. Her dress was a deep burgundy red and her gloves black. She made you look like the frumpiest woman in the club.

You leant against the railing beside them at a respectful distance. You looked over the dance floor. You recognised local representative politicians mingling, kissing, all salacious actions that the average public would be shocked to witness. A Greenie with her tongue down a Nationalists throat.

From your side you could feel his eyes. You couldn't tell if August was glaring daggers, but you knew he had seen you.

Your fingers squeezed the railing tight.

You took a deep breath in and focused not to stutter, “Fancy seeing you here.”

You managed to angle your face his way. You prayed he wouldn't look at your hands, trembling on top of the metal bar.

He looked down at his glass cup. He turned away from his golden haired friend and smirked at you. The woman attached to his side flashed you a sickly fake smile. Her eyes were full of scornful judgement.

He chuckled lightly, eyes raking up and down your body in a way to made you feel like meat in the deli section.

“Well, I do own the club Miss Y/L/N or did you not read my name on the invitation?”

You curled your toes and strained a brave smile, “Oh of course, but business is always busy with men like you…”

You looked away from him briefly, trying to compose yourself. Your hands were starting to shake while your knees felt light. You swallowed hard and returned to face his predator eyes.

“Men like me?” He purred and turned his body to lean on the railing.

You nodded slowly, trying to find a way to answer him and continue the conversation.

“Men like you,” was all you could repeat back firmly. You could feel a line of sweat crawl down the back of your neck.

He chuckled and held his empty cup to his feminine companion.

“Natalie, be a dear and fetch me some Guinness and whatever you’d like.”

Natalie winked at him and gave a girlish laugh when he smacked her backside. You wanted to scoff but at the same time you pitied her. You were scared she would be his next sexual victim. She toddled down the stairs and August slid himself closer to you on the railing. His fingers fluttered and circled around your neck. It was too public a place for him to squeeze any tighter. He couldn’t kill you out here, it was too public. His fingers softly moved over the spot where your pulse sat.

“Why are you here?” He raised his brow to you as he purred, “How did you even get in, huh? I know you didn’t get the invitation…so…have you come to take some more photos? We could have a quick interview in my office if you’d like.”

His lips were amused, but his eyes were dark and annoyed. Annoyed with you.

You shuddered, you weren’t too interested in his offering, but you had to consider how much time Lloyd needed to gain incriminating information. Lloyd didn’t know you had your phone down the front of your dress. It was risky but you wanted to catch anything if the occasion arose.

Your glanced at him, your bottom lip trembled slightly, you nuzzled his hand that started to cup your cheek.

Lightly shaking your head you said calmly, “I got your photos…the envelope…so no photos tonight…”

He chuckled and leered down your chest before leaning in closer to your face moaning, “So…what have you come for?”

You were frustrated that Lloyd really thought you’d be able to do this….this improvisation was nearly impossible when you had to face a man with a mean face. It was the tension of your chest snapping, the breath you were holding broke in a breathy sigh which was close to a gasp.

“The party,” you lied, you leant closer and let your noses touch, “Just to party.”

You laid your hand on his chest and rubbed it in large low circles. The whiskey was warm in your cheeks. You felt daring. Your heart beating strong in your ears. Do it now or you might as well drown. You squeezed your eyes shut and tightened your insides as you pushed up and kissed his mouth. His moustache scratched your top lip as you forced yourself onto him. It was a hard lip pressing peck, you felt his hot breath fan your face. The smell of his malted breath mad a hot light sing in between your legs. Your heart was thundering in your chest,

His wide cold eyes bore into your soul and he chuckled, “You make such a fucking terrible liar.”

It was like he had punched you in the gut the way the air had left your body.

“August dear, I have your drink!” the ringing of Natalie’s voice had his head turned away and letting you go. You couldn’t think, you just stood there absolutely frozen.

August collected his new refreshment, taking an impressive gulp, and you watched him lean closer to the blonde, “The accounts are settled, you can piss off now Nat.”

Her false smile faltered into a malicious smirk. She winked at you before she fled back down the stairs and greeted another gentleman in a tuxedo. You felt sick.

August leant back and cupped your waist in his awfully huge hand, “Let’s take a walk.”

He smirked feeling the shiver roll down your back. His hand squeezed your fingers as he led you down the staircase. You frantically looked out to the room and dance floor. You hoped you might see Lloyd, you might call out for him to save you.

“Ever played Roulette?” he asked setting his empty Guinness on a passing waitress tray.

You shook your head and heard him chuckle, “Of course you haven’t, good girl like you hasn’t done many things at all.”

You were slightly offended by his wording no matter how much it might’ve been true deep down.

He put his hand back to your lower back and led you to the casino rooms. There were multiple tables with different games involving cards and chips. But there was a long table surrounded by at least twenty or thirty well dressed men with their arm candy super model women. At the end was a dealer with a long metal pole. He wore a golden coloured suit. He looked serious and when his eyes caught the sight of August that cold aura disappeared. A giant smile graced his cranky appearance.

“Want to join the game sir?” he asked, “We just finished a game.”

August smiled and said, “Yes, give me ten black chips, six purple and…” he sucked his teeth, “Six yellow.”

The dealer smiled and nodded, he handed his boss, your rapist, the eftpos machine before pushing some chips towards the edge of the table you both next to.

Your eyes widened. The black chips had the number of one hundred, the purple was five hundred and the pretty yellow chips were decorate with a one and three zeros. You had a wild guess that those digits were the amount of money he was putting on the table.

To August it was nothing.

The dealer was selling other chips to the players that were from the old game wanting to buy more while August groped your hip and pressed his nose to your ear, “Lets start off easy, pick, red or black.”

You looked at the table, there were numbers between zero and thirty six. Half the numbers were covered in red, the other half in black. Your mouth felt dry. You really didn’t know what you were doing.

“Bl-“ you cleared your throat as his hand cupped your backside under the table, “Black.”

He smiled, “Now pick, do you prefer even numbers or odd?”

You looked over the red squares and noticed how half looked odd and the other half was even, you weren’t sure if this would help or set you back.

“Odd numbers,” you whispered.

His breath was hot and his eyes were trapping you where you stood. You felt embarrassed to meet his looks.

“Dealer, One hundred on Black and one hundred on Odds.”

The dealer smirked, you knew that dealer knew this wasn’t really Augusts choice.

He spun the wheel that had a metal ball tapping along inside. Round and round the crimson and black. The ball landed onto black thirty five. You held your breath.

“And now,” August purred, “You’ve just won an extra two hundred dollars pup.”

The light in your chest bloomed with excitement, the butterflies rained like a storm in your belly. You were amazed at how it was to win so quickly…but then what if it was red even that won? Or just black and even? Would you have lost it all? Half? You were tickled with curiosity to learnt this grown up game. Two new black chips along with the original were pushed back to you. August thick fingers stacked them on top of each other in a bundle.

“Lets play again, now…see those top numbers, one to twelve, thirteen to twenty four, twenty five to thirty six?” he said, gesturing to the top of the red and black chart against the green fuzzy felt of the table.

“Pick one of those three groups.”

You sucked in a breath and tried to strategize….you had more numbers in the two boxes. You didn’t want to risk less numbers more chance of losing…

“One to twelve?” you said, his large hand rubbed on your ass pressing you closer to the table edge.

“Dealer, a purple chip on the one twelve,” he said cooly not even looking at the dealer this time as he said it. You wanted to know what he was thinking as he stared right down into your skull.

“Yes sir,” said the dealer pushing the five hundred chip over the dozen number group,

“Spin hockey,” August barked and clapped his hands.

And the bowl with a ball spun. it settled on number five. The table players groaned as their games were losing. Luck of the gods must’ve been over you tonight…

“And now you’ve won an extra thousand dollars,” he hummed.

The damn game made no sense except you were happy to be winning. You didn’t expect the fear you got from being in Augusts palm mixed with the joy of winning at gambling would make you aroused and wanting.

The yellow chip was pushed to you and you daringly picked it up. It was pretty, the emboss was August Lion symbol.

“Now…see those three columns that say two to one? There’s a right, middle and left. Pick one,” he plucked the chip from your curious fingers.

“Right,” you bravely exclaim. August laughed and turned to the dealer who had gotten back to your turn, “You heard the lady, yellow on right column.”

The chip was planted and the wheel spun once more…landing on black eleven…a middle column. And just like that, a thousand dollars gone…All the warmth left your body. Now you understood a gambling drop felt worse than the gambling high. His hand snuck it’s way across your lower belly. He moved you closer into his side. His hot breath fanned over you neck.

He tutted at you, “See the risk? Got all the blood rushing, didn’t it and now you’re feeling that punch of loss?”

You slowly shook your head, agreeing. Thank fuck it wasn’t your money or the money Lloyds' had given you. So far you’d at least made August a two hundred dollars profit from the original ten thousand he bought out.

August held your hips and pressed you back into his crotch. He wasn’t hard but you could feel his warm body heat and the shape of his soft cock in his pants.

His mouth purred along the shell of your ear, “Now, Puppy, choose one number.”

He was standing behind you, trapping you against the table flushed. None of the other players took notice and if they did they didn’t care. Because maybe they didn’t know what type of monster this monster could be.

“N-nineteen,” you stuttered, choosing your age might be a safer option.

“Tell the dealer,” he whispered.

You swallowed. You felt hot and a foul arousal between your thighs. You thought about the time you played Pool with August. Your first kiss...

“Nineteen please sir,” you said to the gold suited man.

“Chip type?”

August whispered like he was telling you the dirtiest secret, “Tell him you’re all in.”

You repeat the term and made it sound like a question. You had a feeling you knew what it meant after watch movies ‘Bounty Hunter’ with Jennifer ashton and Gerald Butler. The dealer glanced at August and smirked, “All in number nineteen.”

The long metal pole came out and scooped up all your chips to the nineteen box.

When the ball began to spin inside the wheel your belly twisted and your hands desperately squeezed Augusts. You remembered there was at least ten thousand two hundred dollars on the number and you were truly risking losing all his money. You damn well knew that Lloyd didn’t give you that much and there’s be no way to pay August back.

Your eyes ran round and round the wheel, you held your breath as the metal ball landed and bounced between the numbers. You felt weak in the knees. The wheel slowed and you nearly vomited from anticipation alone managing to force your arse harshly back into August you sound and desperately buried your face into his expensive cologne soaked shirt. You worried and bit your lip hard as the clattering silver ball stopped and the wheel paused.

You could imagine the dealers face peering down into the black and red bowl of fortunes and curses, debts and dreams.

“Congratulations little lady in front row, number Nineteen, you have won three million five hundred and seven thousand dollars,” said the dealer over an excited cheering crowd.

You swore you misheard, your knees wobbled as you dared to look up at Augusts grinning face. You looked over your shoulder and true to the dealers word, that silver ball sat in the groove of red painted with the number nineteen. All the air was drained from your lips. You could’ve fainted. You couldn’t believe it. Out of all the bad luck in your life, this felt truly unbelievable. You wished your father was here to see this. You started to smile...and then the squealing crawled out of your throat. You jumped up and down on your feet, your fingers squeezed Augusts arm tightly. The buzz inside you was wild. Your adrenaline was jumping out of adrenaline was jumping out of our throat. You knew the money wasn’t yours. It was Augusts but knowing that you’d managed to win that much by chance sent the greatest wave of euphoria.

“I won! I won! I won!” tears prickles your eyes and you cupped your mouth.

August smiled into your cheek and chuckled softly, “Yes, you did.” His moustache scratched against your cheek, he smelt like Guinness and felt like total warmth on a cold night. His thumb rubbed beneath your arm near the space of your ribs and breast.

The dealer couldn’t give you that many chips but digitally sent a code with the prize to August as owner of the card that bought the chips in the first place.

August laughed and spun you around on your feet, he tugged you away from the roulette table towards the dance floor where a slow dance was taking place to the sombrous tones of Frank Sinatra.

“Oh my god, I did that, I can’t believe I just did that,” you muttered happily in a daze, a high. You suddenly forgot entirely everything that August had done to you in the past few weeks. You forgot your entire purpose of why you were even there. His charming face was beaming in pride.

His warm lips pecked your forehead and cheek, he repeated, “Yes, you did.”

“I mean I know it’s your money but just the thrill of just- my god,” you sucked in a new breath of air and sighed, “Thankyou for letting me experience that.”

He hummed and swayed your bodies together slowly. He could’ve picked you up and carried you away and you weren’t sure if you would’ve protested.

“My money?” he chuckled, “I can right you a cheque if you’d really like. Bank it tomorrow.”

You scoffed in disbelief, you shook your head at him, “Don’t be mean August, like you’d just give me three million dollars, be fucking for real.”

He pinched your bottom making you hiss lightly as you danced in his arms and he scolded teasingly, “Language.”

You threw your head back and giggled. You were still riding the drunk high of life.

“Welcome to bloody Australia Mister Walker,” you tapped a finger on his chest, his suit felt so smooth and expensive like silk instead of basic cotton, “Where we say all kinds of things casually; Ass, cunt, fuck, bitch, bastard and so on.”

He bent you backwards and cradled your spine as his lips pressed up into your jaw and neck, “Oh fret not, I’ll discipline it out of you. I’d rather have you speaking like a true lady who cares about her appearance.”

You scoffed again and rolled your eyes. You didn’t give a flying care in the world what he thought about a true lady. He wasn’t a true gentleman. You pushed a little away from him.

The high of life became dangerous impulsive boldness, “Why? So I can teach you that true gentleman don’t drug and rape women?”

A few heads turned at your words out of the thousands dancing and gambling around you. His jolly gaze turned black and ice. His frown was deep and displeasure greatly obvious. He looked ready to kill you...

The shudder in your chest returned. It was like a bucket of icy water dunking over your head. That glare made you sober and sheepish. You pushed away gently and smoothed your dress out.

“I...I need to pee.”

You didn’t actually, yet the fear consumed you enough, blanketing over you and you needed an escape from the danger you had willingly nosed dived into. It was the only explanation for you to flee briefly and compose yourself for more of his aggression.

His hands were tight on your wrists.

“August, I’m sorry...please let me go to the loo.”

He let you go, and muttered, “It’s upstairs, be quick, we need to talk.”

You hissed when the blood pumped back into your flesh, you felt your wrists throb in rings. Stepping backwards shakily you almost fell back into a passing waiter. It felt impossible to remove your eyes from him, to make sure he wasn’t following you.

You could feel him watching you as you kept walking to those stairs. Up the grand stairs you scurried away from him for the seconds he was distracted looking away from you, grabbing a new drink.

Just find the ladies toilet and he can’t come in right?

Your head was pounding. Breathless and flushed you didn’t look at the signs on doors. You didn’t even need the bathroom, honestly, you just needed to sit down.

Relief filled you as you looked behind. You couldn’t see August and knew he still wasn’t following you. You leant against a door and turned the handle hoping out of all these doors, this would be a toilet.

When you fell inside. You noted the room was empty…but there was also no toilet…instead there was a couch to your left and to your right a massive wall with a control panel and TVs lining the wall…on the televisions were colourful pictures moving, replaying the events of the party…they were the viewpoints of cameras…security.

You were in the security room!

With widened eyes you closed the door behind you entirely and awed at the stuff you were watching…

There wasn’t just one party going on tonight.

The screen showed the rest of the club you hadn’t had the pleasure of observing. The back stages dancers change room, the full game slot casino, a smokers room where a stripper was sucking some random man off. Your stomach twisted.

There were men sniffing coke off a woman’s thigh. Other people in another room were injecting each other with heroin.

There was a room auctioning paintings and appeared to be a business meeting. Multiple men were sitting on couches and bar stools watching while a stunning woman in the middle waving at expensive items…. Katarina Vikander. She wore a stunning green gown that hugged her body, around her neck was a thick row of diamonds, she looked like an old Hollywood actress.

You stepped closer to the screen and traced the figures of people and faces you recognised. There were even famous local politicians. Your mouth felt dry. You knew it was a simple auction but the items were familiar, they were museum pieces. There were items that morally speaking belonged to the indigenous Meanjin people. It was a inexplicable scandal.

Then there was Lloyd! He was sitting beside an older man with the bald head and beady eyes. In that man’s lap was a young woman with dark flowing hair in a very short dress, definitely young enough to be his granddaughter. yuck!

It was a room of gentlemen and their own weapons to show off. Guns and blades you were confident weren’t even allowed to be sold in Australia after the Port Arthur Massacre. There were tommy guns and automatic rifles. There were trench knives and a urban skinner daggers. Things you’d only seen in movies.

You pulled out your phone and started taking photos of the screens. They would be bad quality photos, not well enough to publish to the press but it didn’t matter, evidence was still important. August was willingly allowing this in his club and on the unlikely chance he wasn’t, it was still occurring in his club, he’d be responsible.

You thought about the amount of people these guns and knives could or had already killed. You clicked some more and quickly sat in the empty chair. There was a couch behind you, you noted the strange red splatter stains over the cushions. You took another picture. You didn’t want to consider if it was blood because that lead to the question of whose blood it was...you shuddered.

No wonder he didn’t appear as excited as you when you won the three million dollars…he probably made that in a week from profits out of these illegal auctions.

You held your breath and watched the screens further.

Soon Lloyd would bust the club. He’d call back up and the floor would go wild. Now it was a matter of waiting. Any minute now, you bet.

You took photos of the men doing drugs with the strippers and the gambling and finally the bar. You wondered how much of the alcohol would’ve been watered down to save money. It even clicked to wonder if the club even had a license to sell alcohol while the casino was open.

You were checking the photos and perched yourself on the couch when the door opened. You gasped and dropped your phone on the ground with a loud clatter.

The looming shadow entered the dark room. It was him…August…he stood inside and closed the door, away from the party, silencing the booming hustle and bustle.

“No photos tonight?” his brows lifted and a smile spread while he tutted, “Oh my sweet girl, you’re breaking daddy’s heart.”

You leant down and grabbed the phone again and shoved it into your clutch purse.

“I-I wasn’t using my c-camera…” you poorly lied.

You stood up spritely and tried to find away around him. He leant against the door, blocking your escaped. His eyes rolled from the screens back to you.

He flashed a sinister fanged smile and shook his head, “Oh no, no, I think it’s about time we chat little Miss Y/N…don’t you?”

You pouted and snarled, “Get out of my way August.”

He shook his head again and sucked his teeth, “Tell me why you really came tonight, and I will.”

You gulped. You clenched your first and said louder, “Get out of my way August or I’ll fucking scream and I’ll make a damn scene.”

He stood in silence for three solid seconds before nodding.

He moved away from the door but as you tried to pass him reaching for the doorhandle, he grabbed your waist and hauled you back. You were launched back across the floor and landed hard and sharp on the carpet. The air was knocked from your lungs and your hands lost grip of your clutch.

Gaining your bearings quickly, you shrieked and cowered. You raised your hands and shuddered. You were so sure he was going to punch and kick you, instead a soft strong hand curled over your wrist and tugged you to your knees.

“Come here,” he softly murmured, while he gently made you crawl over to the couch. On the cushions he sat before he pulled you into his thick lap. Your legs were trapped between his, while you were held on his lap.

You felt so small, so weak. His hands were warm, and strong, you were growing sore as your body overcame the shock of him throwing you back into the room. It made you feel terrified at how simply he was able to manhandle you. All those weeks without his presence had somehow made you forget how deadly and scary he could be. And despite being in his club, in a public place, he still had the upperhand and power to take what he wanted.

Your body shook as his hands touched you. He was so calm…it was unsettling and struck icily in your blood. This was the August you met that afternoon two weeks ago. This is the August that duct taped you and forced you to cum in your fathers recliner chair.

“You wearing any wires baby?” He cooed as his hand stuck down your dress top and another slipped up your thighs. You didn’t fight, but your fingers pleadingly hooked into his shirt sleeve while his hand dug around and slid around your breasts, groping your soft flesh.

His hand the groped around your thighs and lingered when cupping near your underwear. A stream of sweat trailed your face, what if he felt how wet you were in your underwear?

You shook your head and pitifully whimpered, “N-no, just the ph-phone in my bag.”

His lips pressed against your shoulder and neck before finally going to your ear, “This is what’s going to happen…” he purred, “You’re going to be my good girl and do everything I tell you, or else I’m going kill your piggy friend.”

You gasped as his fingers rubbed at your underwear covered clit.

“Wh-what?!”

“Yes poppet, I know about him,” he chuckled and sucked on your earlobe loudly, “He’s not very smart, coming here…his wire, he’s wearing…it’s not going to pick up anything.”

Your eyes dared to glance at the cameras, Lloyd was still on the screen, still watching the auction.

August moved his mouth to your other ear and moved your underwear aside, his finger easily slipped inside of you, tearing a whine from your lips at how wet you were.

“Has he fucked you yet?” He mocked, “Has the piggy touched what’s mine? Stuffed that dirty cock in this pretty puppy pussy?”

You choked on a rising sob, “No, now please st-stop.”

Tears streamed down your cheeks, tears August kissed away softly. You were watching the screens, Lloyd was looking around the room from the chair he was sitting in. Someone handed him a drink. You didn’t know what he was saying as he laughed at someone. You just wanted him to call back up, before you potentially were raped again.

August paused and slipped in another thick finger, “So…you thought you’d help him? Think I’d be so blind? It breaks my heart that either of you thought I was that dumb. This whole time I’ve been telling myself you weren’t a threat, just a dumb little girl…but that’s not entirely true huh? Miss picture perfect, taking photos she fucking well shouldn’t be.”

Your whimpered and wept with salty tears that stung hard. You heard him shuffle as he propped you onto one knee. A moment later, something hard and cold touched your cheek. You were certain this was your fault. You didn’t distract him enough, instead you ran off like a cowered. You sobbed and found it difficult to breathe seeing what that hard object in the corner of your eye was. If you weren’t so scared you might’ve screamed…

“Did you wear this for me baby?” He asked, rubbing your cheek with the warm tip of the gun, “Awfully pretty, awfully expensive for someone like you.”

Your eyes fell down at the dress you’d bought earlier that day. God you regretted it all now, all the excitement you felt buying it for tonight, it was all backfiring. You bought it knowing this was something he might want, it made you feel rich and sensual. It was your shield of confidence, ironic how a shield means nothing compared to a gun pressed to your head.

“Yes,” you wailed, “Please just let us go.”

“Us?” He scoffed scornfully, “And you’re telling me, you’re not fucking him.”

His fingers curled harshly and pinched your inner walls, cupping and shaking your entire cunt in his hand roughly.

You whined and choked, “it’s- n-not his faul- fault…I’m…I’m-”

Your eyes widened and your mouth fell silent…Jesus fucking Christ. August was covered in a hot wet warmth. He grunted, slowly, he removed his two thick fingers out of your pussy and shook his hand of the wet liquid pouring out with three large wrist flicks.

Mortified, a blubbering fest left you mouth. A line of ‘’please” and “sorry” poured desperately out of you.

Your piss puddled the floor down to his shoes.

You had half expected him to throw you off or kill you in disgust. Instead, August hissed a little as the warm liquid soaked over his trousers. You flinched away. He put his gun back in his pocket.

He laughed darkly, “You are so silly huh? So goddamn innocent,” his wet head cupped your neck and clenched your jaw, “I think I’ve amused you long enough baby, I think it’s time I show you why you were put in my care.”

You fluttered your wet eyes at him, “Please just let Lloyd go,” you swallowed a gulp of air, “I’ll do whatever you want.”

You gagged at the acidic smell of your own urine on his hand burning into your nose. His tongue clicked and he wagged his other finger at you.

“You’re about to see what happens to shits who think to try and bring me and my friends down, go on sunshine, look at the TV’s.”

His hand jerked your head forward. You were forced to watch everything happening in the room where Lloyd was. Within seconds, there were two security guards dragging in a limping man over a giant square of tarp.

“This dumb piece of shit decided to double dip my profits in a club I own down in Sydney…dickhead thought to embezzle me…I don’t like when men take what’s mine…”

The struggling man had a black pillow case shoved over his head. He was pushed to his knees in front of Brandon Sullivan who held a gun he took out from the briefcase. Katarina stood away from the centre of the room and watch him with the brightest smile.

The gun from the suitcase wasn’t particularly impressive. It was a hand gun with an ivory hilt. American.

The barrel was pressed to the pillow case. Your eyes widened.

Your bottom lip fell, “Wait please no, he can’t, stop-”

It was two little light flickers from the tip of the weapon, the bag flutter backwards as the man’s brains were blown through. It wasn’t like the movies. His body just flopped and slammed down on the floor and in seconds the blue tarp was rolled up and dragged away, no time for the blood to soak into the auction room carpet.. Brandon put the gun down and clapped his hands.

Lloyd didn’t flinch…his eyes hid inside his cup.

You gagged and bent your head opening your mouth above Augusts spread knees, the floor not only covered in your urine was also granted a haul of your bile. The whiskey you finished from Lloyds cup came back up hard burning your throat.

Why wasn’t Lloyd arresting them there and then? Why didn’t he leave to call back up?

You trembled watching the detective standup and walk over to order a drink at a private bar. He was so vulnerable standing in the den. And he was wearing a wire that wasn’t even working and you couldn’t tell him. You were helpless, Lloyd was helpless.

“I could kill him right now if I wanted to…” August cooed as you sobbed with the shock of seeing a real person killed in front of your eyes on screen.

You wailed and turned your body away. Buring your face into his shoulder and begged, “Please don’t hurt him, please, dear god. I’ll do whatever you want!”

“Anything?” He sarcastically gasped.

Your whimpered, “Yes!”

He was laughing and humming while he was toying with what he’d do to you. He bounced his knee you were on forcing you to land hard on your crotch and gasping everytime your clit made contact with his thigh and knee.

When he stopped, he pinched your wet inner thigh, “Call me Daddy you piss soaked slut.”

You nodded and tried to slow your meltdown, “O-okay d-daddy, I will.”

“Are you sorry for trying to trick me, whore?” He said harshly.

Your chin shook as you choked out, “S-so sorry daddy. Please forgive me.”

He liked that with how he grunted and moaned.

“I guess I should huh? You come in here, looking for dirt, but you win me gold.”

He pushed you off his lap. You were scared and embarrassment. The feeling of the wet that ran down your legs was drying up, yet the puddle that was drying up was huge. The scent was pungent. Your legs were weak and wobbly. You stumbled and grabbed your clutch with your phone inside.

You heard him clear his throat and flinched when he stated, “We are going back to my office. I have wipes, and spare clothes.”

That would’ve sounded nice except you knew better, you knew he’d just rape you in there…and with these sketchy men in the auction room you could only imagine what else August had business in. Human trafficking on top of all these other crimes wouldn’t have entirely surprised you.

You needed to find a way to get away. Since Lloyd still hadn’t gotten the back up he promised, you knew you would need to abandon him too. Guilt filled your belly, you worried for the cop’s safety, but it came to the dilemma…would you risk this for the chance to save his life, or save yourself and pack up and run for it with the cash he had given you. The amount of money in your clutch could buy you a ticket up north all the way to Townsville. You hardly could imagine a British man like August in the sweltering heat of northern Queensland…only issue? It was a perfect place to hide a body. Sugar cane fields were burned daily up there. If you wanted to dump a body, it would be perfect and convenient…you thought about moving in the opposite direction to New South Wales. The Blue Mountains had a cult you had heard of, maybe they could hide you from him.

“Y/N,” August broke you from your thoughts, he touched your chin and matched your gaze, “Did you hear me? I’m going to clean you up, sort you out.”

You took a ragged breath in and nodded, “Y-yes da-dad-" you gulped loudly, "daddy.”

He smirked and pressed his mouth to yours, pulling back with a sigh, he murmured, “That’s a good girl.”

He placed his hand on your back and moved you forward to the entrance door.

Your fingers reached out and touched the handle. Your other hand was clenching your bag tightly. It was only a door…But the knob turned, and you were faster than him. You slammed it shut behind you when you rushed out the door. You raced and shoved people aside. You heard him rip and bang the door open. You felt his heavy feet chasing behind you.

You felt so fucked! Your heart was palpating, and your thighs were chaffing with that sour smell of your pee dress soaked. You almost slipped down the stairs but managed to get to the bottom before seeing him starting to run down from the top.

Guests were staring but who cared? The party was wild and many just giggled thinking it was a big game.

It wasn’t a game though, truly you believed now he was going to kill you and Lloyd if you didn’t get out now. You had no idea where that auction room was hidden. You could grab him and bolt. These seconds were precious, and you just needed to get out onto the street.

You got to the bar and as you ran forward, you saw the fire alarm off the side. You slammed a fist down hard and bolted for the exit. Sprinklers went off wild, the rain made the party wet and all the main lights activate blinding half of the club. The other guests became frantic hearing the chance of a fire happening. Everyone was starting to rush out of the club with you. You swore and hoped that Lloyd was going to be able to get out safely too.

There was no way you’d be able to go home tonight. You were a dead woman walking with the content of your phone and the murder you witnessed. You tried to find an uber driving past but the fear that August was behind you made you keep moving.

You kept running even as you got outside in the cold air. The sound of car horns and lights of the streets were chaotically plaguing your mind. You didn’t have a clue where you were running. You just kept going. There were roads totally dead and quiet, you ran across without pressing any walking buzzers. You needed to find safety. Your feet raced down pavement paths until they hit the soft dewy grass of the park. The parkour park was near the train lines, you could hear the rattling wheels and noisy horn of a passenger train go through, leaving it impossible to tell if someone was following you… But you heard could him, you swore you could hear his catching breath and hear those leather shoes sprinting behind you.

You squealed in the dark as your ran past an empty children’s playground. He was big and he was fast. You felt his hand in the air trying to grab you and successfully you dodged him. You rushed down a street of abandoned shops and tripped over a groove in the ground that you missed in the ground.

And that’s how this all started don’t you see? Don’t you remember?...

A rush of air sucked out from your lungs as your hands and knees collided with the gravel pavement. Your stupid kitten heel snapped and your handbag had flown a couple metres in front of you.

Your heart thudded against your ribs as you poorly attempted to catch your anxious breath.

“Dumb. Very stupid. I perceived you to be smarter than this…” his voice dripped into your burning hot ears.

He was behind you, you knew that…with his hands in his suit pockets. His expensive leather shoes crunched on the rocky path the closer he neared you.

You hissed when the chilly night air whistled against your cut up palms. Blood rose up from your skin, shining in the light of the city lamp. You flinched as his two fingers traced along your spine and pressed harshly down on the back of your neck.

With watery eyes, you watched him walk pass and collect your handbag. His lithe fingers dove inside and pulled out the phone. His lips pursed as he let it fall from his hand before crushing it under his foot.

The salty tears raced down your cheeks, gliding into your trembling mouth.

If only you could’ve screamed for help. If only there was someone in the park to see what had unfolded.

A hiccup escaped you and he softly cooed, “It’s alright now, I think it’s about time you received an education, my darling.”

You shook your head and felt the rise of bile in your throat.

“Please,” you begged with a rasp voice, “I won’t tell anyone. Let me go. I swear I won’t go to the police, just let me go!”

He tutted his tongue and wagged his finger. He crouched down, his soft hand combed into your sweat soaked hair and tugged your head up. Your eyes met his icy gaze.

Hopelessness filled you. Begging had fallen on deaf ears.

“That’s right, you won’t tell anyone…but I’m not finished with you yet.”

As a gasp lifted from your lips he chuckled, “You’re precious if you think I’m letting you go after seeing that.”

His cold palm grabbed the sides of your throat and began to choke you. As the oxygen was restricted, your little hands clawed desperately at his callous hand. Your feet flailed against the gravel. Tears raced down your face. It was impossible to scream out without any air to cry with. With every passing second, a dizzy blanket was clouding your mind and filling your eyes with black spots. His glare made your knees buckle. Exhaustion from fighting was taking over, your nails left his hands, your eyes were finding it difficult to stay open. Eventually your lashes shut, and you let your mind drown in the airless space of time....

Unknown...Unknown...August 2024, Brisbane.

You thought he had killed you. You genuinely believed as the blood pulverised your skull, he had choked you to death.

You felt cold and hungry…the smell of hot Chinese food woke you up.

You curled up in a tight ball, hugging your naked body. Your couldn’t see anything. Your face had been blind folded. Your mouth was chewing on something long, some type of rubbery gag. And around your neck you felt a tight squeeze and the bite of a chain…a collar? Your fingers tried to pull them off but they were tied around your head and you felt the cold shape of padlock..

The carpet scuffed.

Someone was in the room, getting up from a chair. You heard a masculine breath and you trembled covering your chest and cupping your last as your curled back up in a ball.

You were laying on a soft blanket and mattress.

You whined as a warm human finger raced down your arm and the hand splayed out over your skin.

“Good morning, pet…I’m glad I was here to see you wake up,” you heard August moan.

You felt his fuzzy moustache tough the corner of your gaged lips.

You flinched and rubbed your face into the pillows above you.

The chain moved and taunted you backwards until you sat up so you could breathe.

His hand touched your inner thigh, you felt the bed tilt to his weight.

“I bet you’re hungry, I could hear your tummy growl for quite some time before you woke up.”

You felt his fingers unlock the gag and pull it down your chin.

You gasped and enjoyed the ability to breathe properly again. You were still stuck in total darkness however.

You heard a fork clinking with a bowl. You could hear August blow on the hot food and were told to open up.

Your lips parted and your tongue was touched by the greasy goodness of Chinese honey chicken.

You chewed and tore off the meat from his fork.

“Another,” he said as he fed you some more.

Your hands reached out to hold the fork yourself before you heard him casual say, “Keep those paws down, I haven’t given you permission to use them.”

Your might’ve been blindfolded but you knew he was looking at your body. You lifted your knees up to your chin and tapped your arms around your legs.

A cold bottle of water was pushed to your lips and your mouth greedily suckled it down. You knew it could be laces with drugs but your mouth was dry and you knew you were dehydrated.

You gaspingly asked as the bottle was pulled away, “Are you going to kill me?”

You didn’t want to die but it wasnt your choice. You knew this process would be quicker and easier if you allowed death to come…you would rather die than have to succumb to rape.

“No puppy…not today.”

You didn’t feel relief. Actually you felt your chest shake as you tried to hold back your crying.

Your heard him out the fork down and felt him come onto the bed. He pulled you into his arms and let you sob. He rubbed your back and hushed you gently.

It took everything in you to not fight him…you sagged into his touch and let him hold and rock you until you composed your tears.

You should fight him…if he’s going to kill you…go out with a fight.

“Would you like some more food?” He asked and you meekly nodded, “Yes please.”

He tutted and softly scolded, “That’s not how we ask now is it?”

You couldn’t see him but your fist flew up and caught him in his shoulder, “If you th-think I’m going to call you ‘daddy’…you’re fucking nuts!”

And you truly readied yourself for the beating of a lifetime…rather…his fingers moved up and unlocked your blindfold, pulling it off your head.

You winced as the bright light of day pelted your eyes…

He was sitting on the bed. A long button up shirt with rolled up sleeves and dress pants still wearing his leather shoes. His fingers pinched your chin.

“Still want to be a bad girl?”

You realised he expected an answer. And bravely your jerked your chin away.

“You can rape me, cut me, kill me...I’m not calling you fucking ‘daddy’!” You slapped his hand away and crawled to the other side of the bed feebly. You shrieked as he slapped your naked ass hard and laughed.

“That’s alright… I’ll talk to you again in a few more hours.”

He pushed you down and slapped your hands. He put the blind fold and the gag back on. He took the cup and Chinese food away….he left you…vulnerable and nude on the bed. Alone with your thoughts for the next few hours.

Unknown...Unknown...August 2024, Brisbane

He left you blind folded for hours right? Or was it just thirty minutes? You couldn’t tell…blind folded and gagged. You could move your arms and blindly crawl around the bed but the chain would grow taunt if you tried to climb off the mattress. You considered hanging yourself…would it have been easier to just let him find your corpse then wait to be raped?

You rolled around and felt around the covers. You were helpless and scared. For all you knew he could’ve been watching you quietly.

Your crying was muffled with the gag between your teeth. Drool dropped down your chin and dribbled to your chest. You kept wiping it up feeling revolted with yourself.

You tugged and pulled the chain, yet no freedom was granted in your attempts. You grew tired, the panic in your chest exhausted you.

Hesitantly you pulled the duvet back and wiggled yourself in between the massive pillows, you fell asleep…and it was daunting.

It didn’t help that you couldn’t tell when you drifted off to sleep and the first thing you saw was dad. He was coming home from work and you were in the lounge room flicking through the tv channels. When you saw him come through the door your were scared it was August, but seeing your dad made your heart burst with joy. Relief and peace clouded your mind.

“it was all a bad dream!” You said as you got off the couch and raced to hug your father. He was never much of a hugger, that was okay…

His hand pat your back and you sobbed, “It was so awful dad! I thought you had died, everyone said you were dead but I knew there was no way. Thank god it was just a bad drea-”

He was skinny …you hugged him tight …why did he feel so hard and sharp around his body?

“Dad, I missed you,” you licked your lips, “come on I’ll make you something to eat, why are you so thin?” You moved your head back and screamed. His work shirt was stained in blood and his skin and muscle were rotting off his body. His cheeks were hallow and the tip of his nose was gone. His eyes totally white. A slice settle on his face. He opened his mouth slowly to speak and a rotting tongue rolled out over his chin.

You kept screaming and saying “No!” Over and over again. You moved backwards and fell over on a bowl of porridge. His body fell forward on top of yours.

You couldn’t breathe from the fear. The dream went dark in shadows and it clicked that perhaps you’d woken up. But you weren’t entirely sure. You kicked your legs and curled up in a ball. You wailed and hiccupped. The gag in your mouth brought your mind back to where you were. Where you’d been trapped. You hit the mattress over and over in frustration and anger.

“Lmph ma gaoh!” let me go, you howled.

Your knees trembled and you felt nauseas. You shook your head, trying to fight the vomit that could be rising to your chest. You knew if you vomited it would go everywhere and some might stay inside your mouth or throat or up into your nose.

You whimpered, “Peaff!” Please!

Your body tightened…you felt your bowels grow sore and your bladder tight.

Dread filled your mind with the harsh reality that if you don’t get off the bed you were going to be sitting in your own fluids. It cracked your mind….it broke your own heart…you started to scream knowing what your kidnapper wanted to hear..

“Daffy! Peaf half mah!” Daddy please help me, you bawled over and over while your legs crossed tightly and you tried to hold in your bowels. Your toes curled and your acrylic nails dug deep into the skin of your palm. You scolded yourself for letting at service woman Drew to convince getting your nails done.

It was agony, holding in for so long. Your hands cupped yourself in hopes to stop any form of self leaking.

But after the fifth or sixth begging sob…you felt his presence return. It was like he never left, you didn’t hear his feet walk over to you, you only felt his hands…he unlocked you from the chain and guided you to the guest toilet. He took off your gag and your mouth slackened. The drool that hit your feet and floor with a splat made your shoulders curl in humiliating embarrassment.

You were sat on the toilet seat. You knew he stood waiting. It made you feel worthless and disrespected, the lack of privacy as he watched you push your bladder and bowels.

And that wasnt even the worst of it.

Reaching for toilet paper to the side of you, your hands were slapped away. You heard the roll move and a quick tear. You held out your hand to take it but his hand touched your thick and you twisted away, choking on a sob….the sick fucker wouldn’t let you wipe your own body... As he wiped the piss, you grabbed his wrist and tried to tug him away from your intimates.

“I’m not a baby,” you croaked quietly. You heard him hum, “I can do it myself”

“I know you’re not a baby…I just want to remind you this body belongs to me,” he murmured as he flushed the toilet paper away and you heard his hands wash under the running water of the sink.

Your knees bounced with anxious impatience. What was he planning to do to you?

He got you to your feet and guided you back. When the tiles became carpet you guessed you were being put back onto the bed.

He locked the chain back to the collar and whispered into your temple, “Just a moment.” You felt him move away and heard him drag something heavy from under the bed. Your stomach dropped and thought the worst.

He’s grabbing power tools…he’s going to chop and stab and beat me up and then dice me up into tiny pieces, you but your lips and let your tears flow.

“Wh-what’ are you going to do to m-me?” You dared to ask the maniac millionaire.

You flinched at his echoing chuckle, “Just tie you up for now, but let’s see where that takes us? You were talking in your sleep, did you know you do that?”

Your shoulders shook and you curled. You moved back to the head of the bad and clenched the fabric tightly. You felt him dropping things on the bed. His torture tools….

“Please don’t do this,” you tried to beg, “I haven’t done anything wrong. I just want to go h-home please.”

You hated the weakness in your voice. A part of you was angry and demanding you to claw his eyes out and fight to the death. You just weren’t sure what was the right thing to do anymore. What was the least painful.

Warm fingers brushed along your shoulder, and you gasped a little too loudly, he laughed.

“Easy now, I’m just taking off the blindfold, or would you prefer I leave it on?”

Your eyes watered under the fabric, your voice broke out into a whimper, "Off please..."

HELPLINES:

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

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#TNOSP #august walker x black!reader #august walker x ofc #august walker x you #august walker x reader #henry cavill x female reader #henry cavill x y/n #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill x you #henry cavill x reader #dead dove do not eat #dead dove fic #dark!august walker #dark!henry cavill #milky fics #Spotify

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twinksrepository · 6 days

Text

A Photography Class that gets you more than a few shots

Rating: 18+ Minors DNI

Pairing: Asmodeus X F!Reader

CW: NSFW, fluff and smut, Penis in Vagina sex, making out, embarrassment, safe sex, condom use, modern AU, Oral sex female receiving, Vaginal fingering, multiple orgasms, Big dick, partially nude photography

Word count: Roughly 6K

A/N: You like taking photos and decided to sign up for a ten week workshop in the evenings after work. You wanted to get better at meeting new people and learning more about taking photos. You just hadn't expected to end up with such a good looking instructor.

And here is the Asmodeus one. Between this and the Satan one both were fun little brain worms to write.

Images belong to Solmare.

When you had decided all those weeks ago to take a photography class that was offered by the local university in the evenings you never thought you’d end up in a situation like this.

Leaning across the curved portion of a yoga chair with your calf resting on your instructor's shoulder while he pistoned his cock in and out of your pussy like a machine and all you can do is gasp from the pleasure roaring through your head.

Yea.

That was a possibility that had never entered your mind as you followed the posted arrows toward the classroom that was meant to hold an introduction to photography worksop. Swallowing a little as you enter the room already a buzz with conversation, you’re very much out of your comfort zone but you’ve been interested in photography for a while.

It’d be nice to have some formal training instead of just taking photos like you’re used to doing now. If you had a better idea of what you were doing instead of just pointing and clicking maybe you could use it as a side hustle for some extra income.

Taking a seat away from some of the others who seem to have already formed a bit of a rapport. You were falling at the other reason you had signed up for these classes though.

Meeting new people.

People also told you how you were outgoing but it took you a while to warm up to people, and you almost never sought out new people yourself. Back when you were in school, it was usually someone taking you to meet other people. Now it was just the people from your office that you talked to.

“Good evening all my lovelies.” Your head flicks to the door as what your brain can only comprehend as the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen walk in. Heck, you aren’t even sure if this walking beauty is a male or a female. “I’m one of the professors here at the university and seeing as none of you are in any of my classes you may call me Asmodeus.” Yeah even with their name that doesn’t help you at all, feeling your watch vibrate you look down and swallow. Your heart rate just jumped to 168 beats per minute.

Maybe this wasn’t the best idea. “So who wants to go first and show me their camera?” That little giggle Asmodeus makes has you feeling even warmer, it’s like a wind chime. This is a really bad idea.

By the end of the class, you realize it wasn’t a bad idea. At first, it was when it turned out you were the only person who thought to bring their camera with them to the class. Feeling nervous as you explained the model and its functions just like the feminine man had asked, by focusing on the camera itself you had managed to stumble through it.

“Excellent! A key to Photography is understanding your equipment and what it’s capable of. You have a good one there, Hon, it’s what I used before I got the newest model two years ago.” A wink sent your way before he launches into an explanation about different shooting styles and lighting systems.

By the end of the hour-long period, you feel pretty good about the lesson and your homework. Taking photos using the concepts explained in the lesson on still objects, and everyone else was reminded to bring their cameras for next week.

“These are just wonderful!” Flipping through the printed images you handed Asmodeus before the start of class, his eyes roaming across the image behind the rims of his glasses. “You have a keen eye for detail, at this rate I’m not sure why you’re even taking this class.”

Shaking your head at his compliment with a small laugh. “I swear I wasn’t this good before the classes started. I’ve learned a lot from you so far.”

“Then you should find tonight's lesson very interesting.” Handing you back the printed images before pulling his glasses back up his nose. “Some of my students need to practice drawing live figures, so we’ll be using them as examples of lighting changing the composition and tone of an image.”

“Real people?” That makes you feel a little nervous, so far all of your photos have been of either plants or animals. “Do they know we’re going to be taking photos of them?” There’s a cold sweat forming along your spine.

“Of course Hon. I wouldn’t let you use my precious students for practice if they weren’t ok with having their photos taken. Or my brother who agreed to model for them.” That helps you somewhat, but there’s no denying the sweat lining your palms through this lesson. Or how much your hands are shaking as you try to take several images.

Asmodeus takes notice, and as everyone but the model for his students are packing up to leave and heading out the door he calls your name stopping you. “Yes?”

“Come here, Hon.” Curious you tilt your head as you approach him. “Take out your camera.”

“Um.” You have no idea what’s going on but you do just that. Handing it to him as he goes through the images and shakes his head clearly not happy with the quality he’s used to seeing from you.

“Mams, sweetie?” Calling out to the model starting to pack up. “Can you stay for a few more minutes?”

“Sure.”

“Now come here.” Guiding you back towards the platform the model had been standing on, watching the man from earlier strike a pose again. As you step closer you’re even more nervous as Asmodeus slips your camera back into your hands and slides in behind you.

“Asmode-us?” There’s a stammer in your voice as he slips his hands over yours and lifts your camera up to your face with the screen on so you can both see the image instead of looking through the sight.

“Just relax.” His voice whispers right next to your ear, making you swallow. “I know you get nervous around people.”

“Wha-”

“Hush.” Using his foot to get you to spread your legs a little wider by tapping the toe of his boot against your heel so you have a better stance. “I’ve seen your work, you never have people in your images. It’s not that hard to figure out. Now just breathe.”

You try to do just that, breathing in your nose as you try to focus on the screen. “I just, don’t want to upset people.” It’s true and some small part of your brain when you’re out taking photos tells you people don’t want you to take their photo.

“Trust me, Hon, Mammon here would be more upset if you didn’t want to take his photo. A feeling I share, I love having my photo taken.” With that, you feel his hand slide from the camera and along your arm, guiding it to a better position. “Now just breathe and click like you do for every other image you’ve ever taken.”

You swallow, trying to focus on that instead of the feeling of his chest against your back, the rise and fall of it a gentle pressure against you. Or of the warmth sinking into your skin from where his hands are on your, or the way his breath fans out along the shell of your ear.

It’s hard but you do just that, looking at the image through the screen and breathing. This man wants you to take his photo, you can do this. Another breath and your hands are far steadier than they were for the entire class as you make a few small adjustments so the lighting is perfect as you press the button to close the shutter and capture that moment in time in a still image.

“Now that.” Whispering against your ear like he’s proud of you Asmodeus lets out a small laugh. “Is what I expect from my skilled little photographer, and those fine details you capture that have the power to make and break an image.”

“If you say so.” Shaking your head a little as the feeling of his body enveloping yours leaves your heart thundering inside your chest.

“At some point, you’ll just have to accept that I’m right. I know what beauty looks like.” The way he says it makes your face warm, fully unsure how to take that compliment.

As the end of the tenth week and the final class comes to an end you find you’re all smiles talking with some of the other students before leaving. Hanging back a little to thank Asmodeus for more than just the lessons. You still have a long way to go with talking to strangers, but you don’t feel the anxiety building in you like before. And the extra time he spent with you in the evenings. After the lesson with the live model, he started getting you to hang back, and to get you to practise taking more images of people. You still couldn’t take an image of a stranger but you could take photos of those that gave you permission.

“Asmodeus!”

“Ah! There’s my favorite photographer, it seems our times together are at an end.” Letting out one of those little giggles of his that makes you grin while he pretends to be swooning.

“We are. I wanted to tell you just how thankful I am for everything you’ve taught me, I learned so much in the last few weeks. You’ve given me an amazing opportunity.” Smiling at him as you give a little bow. “It’s been one of the best times I’ve ever had.” Ignoring the little flutter in your chest.

Letting out a hum you watch as he places a hand against the side of his face, tilting his head as he watches you for a moment. “Speaking of opportunities, how would you like to help me with something? I’ve been working on a project with some different poses but I just can’t get the images the way I want them.” You’re confused but you nod as he keeps talking. “Would you like to help me with it?”

Wait? Is he offering you a chance to work on a project with him. You’re floored from the offer and your tongue feels heavy in your mouth as you try to get the words out. “Yes.” It’s half choked as you get your mouth to catch up to your brain. “Yes, of course. I’d love to.”

“Perfect.” Leaning over his desk to write something on a note before handing it to you. “I’ll also text you the details in case something happens to this one.”

“Awesome, I’ll see you in a few days then.” Grinning as you slip it inside your bag, lifting your head as he calls your name as you’re closer to the door.

“Oh, and Hon? It’s a partially nude project.”

And you’re right back to feeling like taking this class was a terrible idea.

Looking at the address on your phone again you’re back to feeling nervous as you look at the number on the outside of a warehouse in the industrial district. This seems more like the place to get murdered than do a photoshoot. Rolling back and forth on your feet before you press the buzzer beside the door next to the numbers that match.

Thankfully you don’t have to wait long before the door swings open and a sense of relief floods through you at Asmodeus standing there in a robe with one of those Cheshire cat grins of his firmly in place. “I’m glad you didn’t get lost.” A quick wink flashed at your face before he moved to the side to allow you in. “Welcome to my studio.”

It’s like night and day, while the outside of the building gives murder vibes the inside is awash in bright colors, muted displays, and monochromatic furniture. Heck, there’s even a bed. Several backdrops hanging from the ceiling in different places and a few tables filled with printing and cutting equipment. A small enclosed space that you wonder if it’s for film printing since the bathroom is marked by a light above the door.

“It’s not what I was expecting.” That’s an understatement.

“I get that a lot.” Giving another laugh as he passes you heading toward what looks like a yoga chaise longue with a few bouquets of vibrant flowers nearby. “But the rent is affordable and I don’t need to worry about a lack of space since I can leave working areas set up without having to move things depending on what I’m doing.”

“Makes sense. So I guess we’re waiting for the model?” Closer to the area you notice a camera on a tripod, a camera with a similar look to the one in the bag hanging from your shoulder. Immediately drawn to it and remembered how Asmodeus had told you he had the newer model of yours. Seeing the countdown setting is engaged you swallow.

“Nope.” Your eyes follow a cable and see a button to work the shutter lying on the floor right next to the couch. You already have a good idea what he’s about to say and the sweat at the nape of your neck starts to form and your stomach feels queasy. “I’m the model.”

Well double shit. “You were trying to take the images yourself?”

“I was, and none of them turned out anywhere near the way I wanted.” Striding closer you watch as those well manicured hands of his work the connection to remove the button and cable before coiling it up. “You look a little nervous. You can back out if you want.”

Shit. Your palms are slick and you rub them against the hem of your skirt. “No. I um. You said partially nude right?” If Asmodeus wants you to help him with this project you well and truly want to try your best. It’s the least you can do.

“That’s right.” Nodding he moves the robe to the side and you’re thankful to see he has a pair of underwear on. Mind you. It’s underwear that doesn’t hide that fact he’s packing which does little to help with how nervous you are. “Once I get into position I have a sheet to drape across my body to help with the composition. The theme I’m going for in this project is petals, hence the flowers.”

“Ok.” Nodding more to yourself than to the beautiful man that is asking you to take semi nude photos of him with flowers and just gave you an idea he should have been a porn star instead of an art teacher. You can do this. You can do this. Repeating it over and over in your head as you wipe your hands again. “Do you want me to use your camera or mine since yours is set up on the tripod already?”

“You can use mine, this other cable has it connected to my laptop over there so it sends the images as soon as you take them.” Surprised when he slips his hand down into yours and gives it a squeeze. “Just remember, you’re doing me a favor so if you get too nervous just let me know and we can stop.” Another one of his playful winks and he saunters over with a sway of his hips towards the couch.

Rolling your shoulders as you move behind the tripod while Asmodeus gets set up himself, and for some reason as soon as the sheet falls across his hips you find you’re able to focus more on the directions he’s providing on what he’s trying to accomplish.

While the first few images are not your best, the moment you realize in every shot you can focus more on the flowers instead of his skin it’s like a new ball game. Sure you’re treating Asmodeus like he’s just the background for the images while keeping him in focus but it’s certainly taken the edge off.

So much so that you lose track of time as Asmodeus takes his different poses and you snap an unknown number of images. Blinking when he calls out to stop and you both head over to his laptop to review what you’ve taken.

“Wow.” Clicking on another image, this one of a rose pressed to his lips and obscuring part of his face so his eyes are visible above the petals. It’s like he’s staring right into your soul and knows every secret. “You’ve done an amazing job with these Hon.”

“I mean, I doubt they’d have turned out so well if it wasn’t you in the images.” Laughing as you try to deflect his praise away from you.

“Well, I do agree these images are beautiful because I’m in them, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t amazing.” Turning towards you with a look that you aren’t sure how to decipher. “You need to learn to get better at accepting praise.” Leaning closer so part of his robe is brushing against your arm, this close you think you can smell the hint of cologne on him.

“Maybe.” Giving your head another little shake. “You just tell me so often I feel like it’s a teacher just trying to encourage his student.”

“Oh, Hon.” Lifting his hand to your jaw and tilting your head to look up at him where he’s leaning over with you sitting in the chair in front of his laptop. “I don’t give out my praise so easily.”

Shit. With the way he’s watching you and the sweeping of his fingers across your chin, you find the room suddenly way too hot as you swallow. That queasy feeling is back in your stomach and your skin feels moist as you start to sweat. He’s still as attractive as when you first met him, but damn, he’s never pulled a move like that on you before. “I um.” Scrambling to try and say something that doesn’t make you sound like an idiot.

“You are just too adorable when you’re all flustered.” Laughing a little he dips his head down and grazes his lips over yours. “I could get used to seeing that hue on your cheeks more often.” A little hum with his lips at the corner of your mouth. “With nothing else on.”

Your brain goes blank.

Like whatever electrical impulses that process what you hear and see just freeze as if overloaded like a computer and needs to be restarted. Opening and closing your mouth as no words come out for several seconds while he starts to giggle in that wind chime way of his again.

“I’m your student.” It’s the first thing your brain comes up with and you wince at how sad and pathetic it sounds. A low whine accompanies the words as the rest of your body and brain screams screw it because if he’s coming on to you to go for it.

“You were.” Leaning back as if to give you some space but he keeps his hand on your face, trailing it upwards to cup your cheek. “Now we’re two consenting adults and I’m tired of having to dance around how much I wanna see you cum for me.” If it was physically possible you think there might be steam coming out of your ears from how hot your face feels. Like there’s an inferno trying to burst past the skin and engulf you whole. “So…” Trailing off as he lowers his face so you’re eye level. “Wanna have sex?”

You’re doing that fish thing again with your mouth as your brain rushes to process the words he just spoke.

“Yes.” You blurt out that one word so quickly you aren’t sure you said it.

That doubt leaves you the moment Asmodeus spins the chair and slots into the space between your legs and presses his lips to yours like he’s a man dying of thirst and you’re the only water around. If you had the brain power for it you might have responded to that first kiss. This man just left you spinning with how quickly he moved and did things, including one of his hands in your hair to tilt your head just the way he wants as he kisses you senseless.

When your brain finally comes back, Asmodeus starts to blaze a trail along the edge of your jaw, peppering the skin with soft kisses as he moves. Your hands flying to his hair, so your nails can drag along his scalp as you try to get him to return to your lips. He might keep taking you by surprise but you want to show him you aren’t there to just be a bump on the log so to speak.

“Oh? Does my cute little photographer wanna play now?” Whispering against the hollow of your throat before sucking harshly, making you cry out for him with your hips jolting upward against his firm body between your legs. Pulling away from your neck with a wet pop before blowing on the wet skin to make you shiver.

“Asmodeus” Whining his name as he ignores the light insistence of your fingers trying to get him to move him.

“Asmo.” Licking a strip along the front portion of your neck that has you arching with a sigh. “Call me Asmo.”

“Asmo~” A breathy exhale as you say his name and he seems to finally be willing to give you what you want. Gliding those soft lips of his across yours before nipping at your bottom lip, the tease.

You aren’t going to just sit there this time, parting your lips and flicking your tongue against his top lip before tracing it with the tip of your tongue while you let out an airy mewl. Trailing your hands along the crown of his head and hooking your legs under the chair to pull yourself forward so your chest can touch his instead of being wedged against the backing.

Hearing his moan in return has your body warming, your core clenching as your panties grow moist and start to cling to your skin. Tilting your head to gain better access to his mouth as his tongue playfully slides against yours, engaging more into the kiss. You want more. More of him. Trailing a hand down his neck until your fingers brush the soft robe wrapped around his form. Using the edge as a guide to find the sash holding it in place and tugging it undone so you trail your hand along the skin of his chest.

You spent most of the last few hours watching his body, you knew he was lithe and flexible with some of the positions he put himself into, you just weren’t expecting him to be so firm under your palm. That discovery has your other hand reaching down so you can push more of the fabric off his shoulders while your tongues are busy exploring each other.

Distracted by his wiry muscles you gasp when one of his fingers graze along the material of your underwear, a soft caress to the damp cloth as he traces your sex through it. Using your moment of distraction to press his advantage and shove his tongue more into your mouth with a fervor that makes your head spin as your heart pounds away inside of your chest.

You know for a fact you’ve never had a kiss this intense before.

The fact it’s from a man who a few nights ago was your instructor and a few weeks longer a stranger just seems to make your body respond even more rapidly as you feel the beads of perspiration start to trail down your neck.

Jolting as the bare pad of his finger pushes the sodden fabric aside to trace your folds before sliding along your opening. Making a noise that almost sounds like dissatisfaction before breaking the kiss.

“You’re nowhere near wet enough for me Sweetie.” Pecking the side of your mouth while leaning back and pulling his hand from under your skirt and sticking out his tongue to lick at the long digit. Humming as his eyes close and he seems to savor the taste of you, curling his lips around it as removing his finger with a pop. “I think I’d like a taste from the source.”

“Asm-oo” Dragging out the O at the end of his name as he licks a strip with the flat of his tongue along the length of your opening. He’s quick, having dropped to the floor and lifted your skirt just enough to get his head under the fabric and move your underwear to the side. It gives new meaning to the phrase seeing stars, since you’re throwing your head back and gasping as he undulates the tip of his tongue just inside your moist core.

“Fu-ck” There’s a tightness forming in your stomach, your fingers scrambling to push the rest of your skirt away so you can at least see his pink champagne hair. Letting out another whine when he switches to sucking on your clit and pumping one of his fingers into you. When he hums the vibrations against your clit almost send you over the edge, grabbing his hair while your hips roll.

You want more.

Just more.

More of the fire building inside you. More of his touch. More friction against your pussy as you shift more and more to the increased speed of his tongue. More of his body pressed to yours as a roaring blares in your ears.

All of the tension leaves you as you tumble over that edge with a low moan and slump back in the chair while Asmo keeps lapping at your core drinking down your release and dragging out the pleasure flooding through your body.

He doesn’t relent until you let out a noise of discomfort. “Aw, is my pretty photographer all done after one orgasm?” Barely opening your eyes as he stands, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“I need” Blinking you rub at your face trying to collect your thoughts. “A minute.”

“Oh, you really are adorable.” Laughing as he turns and starts rooting around in his desk for something.

“You keep saying that.” Finally feeling more aware but relaxed you fully open your eyes, just in time to watch him drop his underwear to the floor. “Right, you are a lot bigger than earlier.” Deadpanning as you keep watching him, blowing you a kiss as he uses his teeth to rip the edge of the condom package open.

If these past few weeks have taught you anything he’s a tease. Making a show of sliding the latex along his shaft before trailing his painted fingers through the light dusting of hair that’s immaculately kept. “That tends to happen when you’re horny Hon.” Another wink as he saunters closer with that monster swaying between his legs. “Now.” Bending at the waist and ghosting his lips over yours. “Ready for round two?”

“In this chair?”

“No.” Standing with his soft hands wrapped around your wrists and tugging you upwards before guiding you to the yoga chaise lounge he had been using as part of the photo shoot. “Somewhere I can really make you scream my name.” Giggling as he slides his hands to the edge of your shirt and starts to pull it upwards and over your head.

“I’m not going to be able to walk tomorrow am I?” Reaching your hands back to undo the clasp for your bra before dropping it to the floor.

“Oh, Hon. I’m planning to make it so neither of us can walk tomorrow.” Starting to work your skirt off only to have his hand stop you. “Just the underwear. I like the skirt.” Well, if he likes it after that orgasm you aren’t going to tell him no. Slipping the drenched material from your legs and letting it drop to the floor just like your bra. With that wet flop, Asmo has his hands on your hips guiding you toward the lounge and getting you to lay back against it.

“Does that mean we’re staying here tonight?” Feeling a little braver as his hands sweep along your sides making you shiver while your core throbs.

“If you can handle it, Hon.” Using his hand to push your chest back against the curved higher end. “Just don’t expect to get much sleep.” Sliding the tip of his cock between your folds, tapping the head against your clit making you let out a soft mewling noise. He has your skirt lifted just enough to watch what he’s doing, his eyes glued to your slick skin while he teases you.

“Asmo!” Whining again as you reach out to touch the hand on your hip keeping you in place and your skirt out of the way. “Please, I don’t wanna be teased.” Sliding your fingers through his and rubbing his knuckles. “Just fuck me.”

“Oh, you want me to fuck you, Sweetie?” Your stomach clenches at the edge to his voice as he lifts his head and you swear there’s a mad gleam in his eyes behind his glasses. Shit. “Of course you do.” His cock isn’t sliding between your folds anymore, you can feel the pressure of the wrapped head nudged against your opening. “But I want to hear why you want me to fuck you.”

That edge is still there and you swallow. This might be a mistake but you have enough of an idea exactly what he wants to hear you say, and it has nothing to do with the fact you had zero idea that he was even interested in you like that before tonight. “Because Asmo.” Adding a purr to your voice as you use your abdomen to pull yourself upwards so you can look into his eyes, it's your turn to make a show as you lick your lips. “I want the most beautiful man that I’ve seen to fucking ruin me with his cock.”

That gets you the desired result as you let out a cross between a scream and a moan as he slams his dick balls deep into your pussy with enough force you feel his balls slap against your skin. Panting like you’ve run a race as the muscles of your inner walls spasm, even with an orgasm having already racked your system the stretch has a fire spreading along your lower back. “I’ll ruin you so all you can think about is my beauty when someone tries to fuck you as good as me.” Dragging his cock back out to the tip before slamming forward again.

“Asmo!” Screaming his name as your body rocks with his motions, the size of him with the steady pace has you quickly approaching the edge of an orgasm again. You have no idea what to do with your hands, torn between touching him which you can barely do back against the curve of the couch, and wanting to just grip something to try and focus on that. Curling your fingers under the edge of the couch and panting his name like a prayer.

“That’s right Sweetie, cum on my cock.” Cooing the words as his fingers rub at your clit in a tender caress. A long drawn out moan rings around the room as you do just that, clenching around him as your back spasms. “Such a pretty sight, all blissed out because of my beautiful body.” Asmo isn’t moving this time as you orgasm, watching you as you swallow while your cunt squeezes around him. You’re a lovely sight to him and the way you grip him has him feeling giddy, wondering if after tonight he can come up with another project to get you into his studio again. You’re far from his first partner, he likes having a good time be it with him giving or receiving, but the way you respond to him? That has him wanting to keep you around longer.

“Shit.” Your fingers hurt as you loosen your grip on the wooden frame under the smooth fabric covering the yoga couch. “Damn Asmo, you really will ruin me.” Whispering the words as you try to sit up.

“And I will.” Gripping your hands in his and helping to slide you more to the top of the hump while keeping his throbbing cock deep inside your walls. “I want this pretty pussy to be all mine.” Damnit. He has your face burning again, you shouldn’t be feeling embarrassed like this by his words after he ate you and gave you a second orgasm all in the last ten minutes.

“You’re a menace.” Shaking your head with a grin as you wrap your arms around his neck to go in for a kiss. Tasting yourself on his lips from earlier, it’s easy enough to ignore the bitter fluid when his tongue sweeps out to coil around yours. Humming as your fingers toy with the fine hairs along the back of his neck, rolling your hips a little so you slide along his shaft.

“Says the needy girl ready for another orgasm.” Chuckling with a sweep of his fingers along your jaw. “And you’re lucky enough for me to be just as greedy.” Gripping one of your thighs with a squeeze that makes you arch your back.

“And Lucky enough to have someone as beautiful as you interested in me.” Fluttering your lashes as he lets out a real laugh that makes your stomach clench for a different reason. Shit, you could get used to that.

His hand doesn’t stay at your thigh for long, sliding lower so he can grip your calf while his other hand slides along your hip to adjust your legs. Gasping a little at the new angle, at least before you start to pant when he throws your ankle against his shoulder. You feel like you’re being split open by his cock and damn, do you enjoy the burn. “Now it’s time to start the real fun.” Blowing you a kiss with his free hand.

What does he mean real fun?

Before you can part your lips to ask your neck arches back, moaning as your inner walls spasm around his dick as he rocks into you at a blistering pace, you can feel every inch of him hammering in and out of your walls while the muscles of your stomach seize up.

You’re quickly spiraling towards an orgasm as your lungs burn, panting as you try to suck in air to get your racing heart to slow. You’re starting to wonder if Asmo isn’t some kind of sex god, he certainly has the stamina for it. Letting out another whine as the tip of his cock drags along the upper muscles hitting a bundle of nerves your fingers would have never found. Feeling the sweat that drips from his face land on your leg as he keeps his eyes where you’re joined, a blistering pace now as he slams himself home. “You’re so tight.” His voice sounds strained, doing your best to keep yourself steady as you lift your gaze from where his cock keeps disappearing inside your walls.

His chest is flushed, the skin slick with sweat. A visible sign he’s putting every effort into fucking you as hard as he can. Licking your lips and wishing you could get closer to lap at the beads dotting his chest. Lifting your eyes higher and trying to keep your eyes open as he seems to redouble his efforts, an audible slap of wet skin echoing around the space, laced with the occasional moan or mewl from one of you. That same flush is visible on his neck, the tendons flexing under the hammering of his heart, made more prominent by the longer strands of his hair stuck to his skin.

“Asmo~” Panting his name again as you fumble for his shoulder, his slick skin makes it hard to get a good hold as you fingers slide off.

“Just relax Hon, I’ve got you.” Still positioning his cock inside of you as the fire burns inside you like it’s going to consume you. A choked off sob as you bite your lip, you want this one to last, to drag it out. Squeezing the walls of your cunt as tightly as you can to try and keep Asmo from moving. The moan he lets out has your head swimming. “Sweetie, are you trying to push me over the edge with you?” Moaning through his teeth as his eyes meet yours.

Those almost pink orbs seem even more vibrant in his flushed skin. A quirk of his lip upwards that makes your heart squeeze painfully inside your chest. Something you shove down and focus on his dick plunging into your core and you finally give in, letting your orgasm rip through as you scream his name at the top of your lungs.

Sliding forward your blood rushes through your ears, missing Asmo calling your name as he slams home. Pushing your leg from his shoulder so he can slump over your body, guiding both of you along the curve of the couch and dropping his face into the crook of your neck as he breaths in deeply.

It's nice, feeling the weight of his trim body pressing you down into the curve of the couch, his exhale cooling along the damp skin of your neck. Lifting a hand to play with his light colored hair. “I didn’t see this happening a few weeks ago.” Voicing your thoughts as the strands cling to your fingers.

“Funny. I did.” Huh? Rolling his head to nuzzle into your neck. “After you stayed behind to take photos of my brother I started fantasizing about you.” Giggling and shifting his hips. “You’re even better than I thought.”

“I’d complain but I feel too good.” Mumbling as you sink down more into the material. “Plus you’ve been great for my confidence.”

“Good. My sweet little photographer.” Lifting his head to peck your neck. “Now give me a few minutes and we can get ready for another round.”

When your phone goes off in the morning you can’t move, wrapped in his embrace and lost in a haze with your limbs heavy. That class had definitely been worth it, and you hope you can come up with an excuse to repeat the last twelve hours again soon.

Obey me Masterlist

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the-random-phan · 1 month

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Dead (name)

Summary:

Short drabble about trans masc Danny's experiences.

Muscle memory from years of sleepovers and movie nights at Sam's led Danny towards the downstairs bathroom, and he shut himself inside. He locked the door, ensuring his privacy. With that privacy, Danny sat on the toilet and shucked off his shirt- then rolled his binder up to his armpits. He sighed with relief, as it finally felt like he could breathe. Binders and recently cracked ribs didn’t match well, it turned out. Super healing or no.

Word Count: 1,449

Ao3

(I recommend reading on Ao3 for the proper formatting)

“Hey glowstick! Dim the lights, please.”

Danny’s head snapped up at Sam’s comment. Ah, right.

He, Sam, and Tucker were in Sam’s basement theater, about to start a movie. Tucker manned the popcorn machine, and Sam stood near the light switch- which she’d just turned off. The room was dark. Mostly.

“Sorry.” Danny replied from the couch. Between one breath and the next he turned from ghost form to human. His glow vanished, leaving the room in shadows lit only by the projector screen.

“Thank-you.” Sam left the switch to sit next to him, getting cozy with her purple blanket.

“Make way!” Tucker exclaimed, armed with the popcorn bowl. He plopped down between them and promptly laid his head in Sam’s lap, and his legs in Danny’s.

Sam huffed.

“You should change your name to Trucker, not Tucker. Forcing your way in like that.”

“I don’t hear any complaints.” A grinning Tucker shimmied, making himself comfortable between them.

“I literally just compla-”

“Shhh! The move is starting.” Tucker said and pressed start. Sam shook her head but smiled, and turned her attention to the movie.

Danny remained quiet, watching their interaction with a smile. He was content to be the third, for now. He automatically grabbed an extra blanket and threw it over Tucker’s legs, tucking it in around him.

“Thanks, man.” Said Tucker around a mouthful of popcorn.

Danny laughed.

“No prob.” He rested one hand on Tucker’s calf and the other in the popcorn bowl. The opening credits began and he settled in for the movie.

“Now that’s a girl’s locker room.” Tucker snickered at the scene.

Sam and Danny rolled their eyes.

“Girl’s locker rooms really aren’t as exciting as you think, Tuck.” Memories of covering his eyes and ducking into the bathroom stalls to change flashed in front of Danny’s eyes.

“How would you know?” Tucker retorted.

Danny didn’t deign that with a response, and turned his attention back to the movie.

“Oh.” Tucker laughed quietly, awkwardly, and then the scene changed and the moment was forgotten.

They got through the first half hour before Danny felt a tinge in his ribs. He ignored it for a while, but the pain was constant. He shifted in his seat but was unable to get comfortable. Until he could ignore it no longer.

“Bathroom break. Be right back.” Danny said in a hushed voice and stood, dumping Tucker’s legs out of his lap. Prompting a startled squawk.

“Want us to pause the movie?” Sam turned to see him standing. Tucker watched as well.

“Nah.” Danny waved them off.

“I’ll be back soon. Just fill me in when I get back.” Not wanting to interrupt further, Danny quickly made his exit. Just as he’d asked, the movie continued to play as he left.

The stairs felt like a special kind of hell as Danny ascended them. He pressed a hand against his chest and tried to ignore the sharp ache, just putting one foot in front of the other.

Muscle memory from years of sleepovers and movie nights led him towards the downstairs bathroom, and he shut himself inside. He locked the door, ensuring his privacy.

With that privacy, Danny sat on the toilet and shucked off his shirt- then rolled his binder up to his armpits.

He sighed with relief, as it finally felt like he could breathe. Binders and recently cracked ribs didn’t match well, it turned out. Super healing or no.

Danny rested his head in his hands, eyes closed so he didn’t have to look. He took a moment to just breathe- in, and out.

He should have taken a binder break earlier, really. He’d been wearing it for… thirteen hours, now? Eight if he didn’t count time in his ghost form. Which he didn’t, usually. Because that form didn’t need a binder. A blessing and a curse, all in one. His top surgery fund was abysmally small.

A few minutes passed, and Danny figured it was time to go back to the movie. He didn’t want to miss too much.

Danny pulled his binder back down and it was then that he realized the fatal flaw in his plan. His chest ached even more now, and the pain clogged his throat.

“Shit.” He cursed quietly.

He’d come right to Sam’s after ghost hunting, and his backpack had been blasted to bits by Box Ghost. With it, his spare bra- the one he kept just in case this sort of thing happened.

Unable to stand the pain, Danny shucked the binder off onto the floor. He took a deep breath, enjoying the freedom but finding himself shivering.

He abhorred not wearing anything for his… chest. Being trans made him self-conscious enough, he didn't need it accentuated. But he also didn’t have a choice. Reluctantly, he picked his t-shirt back up off the floor and put it on. A glance down made him cringe.

Part of Danny thought maybe he could ask to borrow one of Sam’s bras. But another part shrunk away from the idea of saying the word out loud, and making his ‘issue’ known. Plus, Sam always wore the expensive, custom-fit kind. A far cry from the ten dollar two-packs he picked up at walmart. He didn’t even know if hers would fit.

With gritted teeth, Danny stuffed the binder in his pocket and washed his hands. He left the bathroom with his arms crossed in front of his chest; trying (and failing) to look casual. The last thing he needed right now was the run into Sam’s mom, so he hastened his steps.

Danny returned to the basement and found the most important people in the world his friends still laying on the couch.

Tucker had shifted in his absence, knees bent and legs tucked up. From his slow heartbeat and slower breaths, Danny could tell without even seeing his eyes that Tucker was asleep. His head still rested in Sam’s lap, and she had an idle hand in his hair.

“Everything good?” Sam asked in a hushed tone, noticing Danny’s entrance right away. He’d been gone for a while.

Danny’s reply was quick- he didn’t want her to worry. Or to look at him.

“Fine.” He sat back down on the couch, distanced by Tucker’s folded legs. Danny took his blanket and tucked it under either arm, tight around his chest. He kept his arms folded.

“Hm.” Sam frowned.

“Well, I saved you the last of the popcorn. Want it?” Sam wasn’t done yet, it seemed. Danny glanced over to see the bowl with just a handful or two left. He debated- he really wanted popcorn. But he also didn’t want to lift his arms to take the bowl from her.

“No thanks.” He said politely.

Sam dropped it, thankfully- attention turned back to the movie. He caught her sideways glance but pretended not to notice.

“Hey Danny?” Tucker asked.

“What?” Danny laid out the blanket on the top of the Ops Center. There was a meteor shower tonight, and they’d gone up there to watch it. Sam sat down on the blanket and began to dole out their orders from Nasty Burger.

“Why are you always in ghost form nowadays when we hang out?” Tucker sat down next to Sam.

Danny froze, teeth clenched. He forced out a breath.

“Yeah, I noticed that too.” Sam added, chewing on a fry.

“It’s been like a week since we’ve seen Fenton anywhere but school.”

Danny’s plan on just shrugging and saying ‘idk’ went out the window with that statement. And with Sam and Tucker’s stares.

They weren’t judgemental, of course. They’d never judge him, not about this. But Danny couldn’t help feeling that way. And it made him quiet.

The two must have noticed his discomfort with the question and he saw them exchange looks, silently communicating.

“You don’t have to tell us if you don’t want to.” Said Sam.

“Yeah- I was just curious. No pressure, man.” Tucker added.

A weight lifted from Danny’s chest. He took his seat on the blanket between them.

“Nah, it’s fine.” He scratched the back of his neck- a familiar gesture.

“It’s just more comfortable, I guess?”

Danny paused, debating how much he really wanted to say.

“...Helps with my dysphoria, and all that.” He said quietly.

“Ah, gotcha.” Tucker nodded immediately in understanding. For which Danny was immensely grateful.

Sam piped up as well with her own support.

“You look happier. Even if you also look, y’know, dead.”

“Thanks, Sam.” Danny said dryly.

“I do mean it though. You seem more comfortable” She bumped her shoulder against his.

Tucker piped up with a snicker.

“Yeah, you’re positively glowing.” “Tucker.” They groaned in unison.

#this is really just pushing my own feelings/experiences onto Danny lol #mostly at least (as in. i've never had cracked ribs. my cousin did tho!)#I threw in some comedic interactions around the angst #so I hope this is a fun read!#danny phantom #dp #trans!danny #sam manson #tucker foley #everylasting trio #(or not. it isn't explicity said :3)

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sleepymccoy · 2 months

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I have a character in my scifi who's missing his legs from knee down. It's not a recent disability so he's adjusted to it. I'm trying to come up with some cool leg attachments he'd probably have. He's an engineer, so he makes his own in his down time and could have some wild stuff

Like, he'd have just easy to walk with legs for causal use I figure. This kinda thing (but both legs)

I reckon he's got stealth fake legs that look and move like real legs, even to the point of having a rubbery skin touch if you bump them. For if he ever wants to lie to people. He lies to people a lot, it's a real character trait so that works for me

He'd have one of the swoopy ones that look so cool

I mean, how cool can you get? They're awesome

They work in zero gravity sometimes. So there'll be a foot design that's easier in zero g. Moving around is mostly done by hooking your toes under a hoop, so something with a hook inbuilt makes sense for him. This kinda of vibe

But more hook-focused in design

I reckon he'll have something that's magnetic. So, he can climb walls by clicking the magnetic of it on and off as he steps. He might use that in zero g sometimes too I suppose

He'll also have a set that attaches to his space suit. They'd have some air thrusters on, so he can kinda fly alongside the ship and adjust position iron man style without having to hold onto stuff to manage himself

And he def has something with like a seat built in. I mean, that's the dream, innit? I'm basing that off this design

But with the idea that the lever thing at the back of the thigh would be a seat that kinda locks into place if you bend your knees a certain way. And on both legs, so he can just sit whenever he wants

He's a pretty fun engineer. I reckon he's got like a work day one that looks like nothing special except it can also make a coffee

Like that, except the coffee machine is attached where the calf would be

Like, that's the work leg on the right, the left work leg has a bunch of emergency engineering equipments. Like, four Allen keys, WD-40, and a wrench hidden inside. And a good erotica novel.

Maybe he'd have one that's designed to flip around and become a table when he sits down? Or a really pretty one? I think he'd have to buy a pretty one, he's not an artistic kinda dude

I can't think of anything else rn. I am taking suggestions lol

#i dont wanna tag this with real tags #cos i have both legs and am spitballing here #so its going under the usual story tag #bunkmates

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lovelybarnes · 2 years

Text

Grocery Trip- B. Barnes

pairings: bucky barnes x reader Warnings: none About: grocery trip a/n: sorry about errors i don't feel great rn

The jet’s seats should be more comfortable, you think.

For all the money Tony’s poured into these things, the seats must be softer, have a little more spring. You shift when the flimsy armrest that’s been digging into your lower back begins to feel more tiring, straightening up and letting your eyes flutter shut.

You’re not tired, although you assume you should be, stretching your fingers out and frowning lightly when even that shoots a prickly ache up your tendons.

Your nails are stained pink, still besmirched with a tasteless metal after ages of hot water and soap up to your elbows.

There’s a spot of dried red on the floor in front of you. You don’t have any more cereal. Licking your lips and tasting a tang of iron, you turn to Bucky next to you, index and thumb pinching at one of the straps on his vest and pulling gently. Slowly, his eyes meet yours. There’s a smudge of blood above the rise of his eyebrow.

“I think our pantry’s empty right now. Fridge, too,” You tell him. “I’m pretty sure we were supposed to go shopping today.”

“Okay,” he replies, unsure of your point.

You look up at him expectantly, a little too tired to want to think by yourself.

He understands after a silent second, a sly arm coming to loop around your waist. “You wanna go now?”

You stare up at him and shrug, knowing well you shouldn’t put it off when you’re not not in the mood to go grocery shopping.

“Alpine is out of food,” Bucky points out.

“Didn’t you buy a bag last week?”

“You put food in her bowl every time she stares up at you right. She’s gonna get fat, y/n.”

You frown at him. “She’s from the streets, Bucky. I think she deserves to be at least a little fat.”

Bucky sighs somewhat exasperatedly, some of the darkness of his eyes rolling away like clouds on a stormy day. “Okay, then. We have to get more cat food.”

You laugh then, the uneasy mood in the jet honeyed thanks to Bucky. “And cereal,” you chime.

“Limes,” he continues, staring off in an attempt to remember. “Peaches.”

You turn to look at Tony, stretching a leg to poke his calf with the tip of your boot.

His head lolls lazily toward you. “What?”

“Bucky and I need to go shopping.”

“Now?”

“Can you drop us off at a grocery store? Please.” You ask as an answer. “Somewhere with fancy cat food.”

Tony stares blankly for a moment, silent enough for you to begin creating a plan B, but you’re beneath yellowed fluorescents with a promise of a car coming by to get you later a few minutes later.

You send Bucky off to get some cucumbers while you go to wash your hands once again, steps light and very nearly giddy against the linoleum floor. The averageness of the store is so dull that it’s a colorful relief, something bright and cold rushing up your skin and bursting with a familiar energy, like the high of a sugar rush in the pale light of a television.

Even the ice of the metal handle of the bathroom awakens you, pushing it open with the bruised angle of your elbow and meeting your own eyes across from you. It’s startling to see yourself beneath the pale light of the bathroom, your face weary but calm in the smudged reflection of the mirror, eyes alight with that surge you can still feel.

The right side of your face is splattered with hard, minute bubbles of wine. A sticky chill goes up your spine, gross and dirty. You blink at yourself, shimmying your shoulders to make it go away.

It disappears when you plunge your fingers beneath the cold water, clean skin rubbed raw with another round of soap. Your nails remain a shade of red darker than they should be.

Humming in dissatisfaction, you tug at the paper towels peeking out beneath the machine, tearing off a long piece and keeping it with you when you push the bathroom door open.

You wander among the aisles until you find Bucky in the produce section, staring intently at a pyramid of peaches.

“Make sure they’re not too ripe,” you remind airily, walking up behind him to cock your head at the fruits.

“I always get bad ones,” he mumbles, sad but determined.

You twist your lips in disagreement but don’t reply, turning to stare at the left side of his face. There’s still red above his brow, just as you thought there would be, and you crumple the napkin in your hand as you lift it to his face, patting his skin gently with its wet side.

A swipe of scarlet turns to pink dotted with vermillion, your gentle swipes on his skin carrying away more of it and leaving a residue meant only to harmlessly remain.

He only offers you a curious glance before getting back to it, finally picking up a peach with a scrutinous glare.

“Too ripe,” you sing lightly, not looking away from your task. “The other one you had was good.”

He mumbles something to himself, dropping the one you’d specified into the bag.

You pat his cheek once it’s clean, too, part in pride that he’s finished with the peaches and part in satisfaction at the lack of contrast between dark cherry and electric blue.

“Thank you,” he says.

“Super-soldier girlfriend duties,” you explain, tucking the paper towel into your pocket.

“Well then, you’re a very good super-soldier girlfriend.” He lets a thumb dance just above your cheekbone, where a bruise dots its beginnings. He frowns. “Do we have any frozen peas left?”

You grin widely. “Look at you. You know my favorite frozen vegetable to ice my wounds.”

“Well, I’m a very good Ex-Widow boyfriend.”

You run an index along the rise of his nose. “You are.” Then, a tap to the dip of his cupid's bow as you move a little closer. “Cat food,” you whisper.

“You’re a tease,” he complains when you move back, watching you walk away from him. You look back at him over your shoulder and grin.

“Come on, Ex-Widow boyfriend,” you entice. “Our cat needs food or she’ll yell at us.”

“I’ll yell,” he threatens, dragging his feet as he trails behind you. “Cereal first,” he reminds just before you pass the aisle. He doesn’t so much as pause when he arrives at it, sparing you a glance as you prance back to him with three boxes of cereal. “Do we really need that much?”

“Yes,” you confirm curtly, dumping them inside the cart. “Barnes household likes their cereal.”

He hums. “Produce is done, cereal is done. What’s left?”

You list off your fingers as you resume your slow walk next to your boyfriend. “Cat food, of course. Popcorn, cookies.” You pause. “My list is sitting on the kitchen island, right next to our empty tub of pasta. Oh, pasta.”

He stops, taking three steps before he finds the bowties and linguine, and throws two bags into the cart.

“You wanna pick up the food? I’ll grab the rest of it,” he proposes.

It’s sweet, an effort to get this over and done with quicker, but you have learned to appreciate the humming lights of the supermarket, the squeaky wheels of each cart you seem to pick, even the high-pitched squeal your boots manage to make when you turn on a specific tile. It makes returning to your apartment a gloomier affair, as if highlighting the end of the night and overshadowing what the start of it means.

“Let’s go together,” you amend, shuffling closer to him and ducking beneath a bulky arm. “Can we?”

He settles around you, turning his chin nonchalantly to press a kiss to the space between your brows. The scratchy shape of his chin bumps gently against your nose. “Sure.”

You grin up at him and detangle, rolling your shoulders. “So, which popcorn did you like best? Lime? Sea salt? The really greasy ones?”

“Which ones were your favorite?” he asks.

“Lime, but I know they weren’t yours.”

“How would you know?” he accuses, stopping at a jam sale in front of the chips. The popcorn selection starts only a few steps away from you, colorful and expansive.

“Because you never finish the bag.”

“I leave it for you.”

You huff, walking to the boxes of kernels. “You’re only so generous because you didn’t like them.”

You pull out a box of sea salt and a box of lime, stopping just before you’re out of the aisle to grab the greasy ones.

“Why’d you ask?” He laughs.

“Why didn’t you answer?” You counter.

Bucky twists his lips and sends you a look, its thin indignance falling away when you push yourself back into his chest. Automatic, he wraps his arms around you. “Y’tired now?”

“No.” You yawn, body betraying you.

“Uh-huh.”

You peel your face from his chest, appointing his hands as the sole reason to you upright as you let your head drop, arms limp. “Leave me be,” you moan.

He snorts, tugging you close with a start. You squeal, hands coming up to grip him soundly. “Two things left,” he reminds.

You smile, freezer chill hitting you from next to you. “Most important.”

“Most important,” he confirms, steadying you before he starts walking again.

As if renewed—by his touch, by the store’s manufactured winter—you're chatty again. “How many boxes of cookies should we get? You want those strawberry ones? The chocolate chip? Those wafer ones with the chocolate filling?”

“One.”

“One of each.”

“One.”

“Why!” you lament. “I deserve cookies! We deserve cookies! Why are you doing this to me?”

Bucky chuckles at your misery, turning into the cookie aisle. He doesn’t go far, walking only a few feet to drop the wafer cookies in the purple box in the cart, and then turns around, staying silent when you skip to the other end and come back with two different boxes beneath your arms.

“You’re worse than the damn cat,” he gripes.

“Who still needs her food,” you chime cheerily. “Do you remember which brand makes her sick? Is it the one with the green or the paw?”

“Back in my day, cats ate what they found in the trash and they liked it,” Bucky grumbles.

You glare at him, scanning the variety of cat food along the shelves. “You say this as if you aren’t the reason we’re buying her fifty-dollar food.” You make a delighted sound when you spot the familiar black case speckled with cat figures.

“Fifty dollars!” Bucky exclaims, coming up next to you and taking the food from you. He checks the price tag as he sets it down in your cart, shaking his head. “Alpine eats better than I do.”

“So, what I’m hearing is, you want to eat,” you tug at an edge, balancing it away from you to read the lettering on the case, “’wet meat in gravy and pumpkin soup.’ I have to admit, I didn’t take you for the type.”

“Alpine likes it just fine.”

“Alpine,” you keen mournfully, “is a feline.”

He is wonderfully unable to help his laugh, softening it with an eye roll and a reminder that it’s late and we need to pay, menace.

Helpfully, you bend over the cart handle to leisurely pick items up one at a time and hand them to Bucky, who takes them with a kind graciousness as he shoves various grocery items on the sticky conveyer belt. You send him a toothy grin when you choose to pick up a box of cookies after a few seconds and he responds with a surreptitious press of his lips.

The cashier reminds you of your state when you stand next to Bucky and watch him hand her his card, hand in the air for a few seconds because she’s staring at the spatter of blood that splays across your face.

To her credit, she snaps back quickly, pasting a weak customer service smile and wishing you both a good night.

Headlights peek out from the clear margins of the cloudy sticker pasted on the store windows, alerting you of Tony’s kept promise and a reminder of home arriving with it. Then, as an extension, an overwhelming exhaustion only cured by your bed and blankets and pillows.

Bucky is quick to take advantage of your distraction, gathering the bags in his hands and bumping your shoulder gently. A question: “do you want to go?” Like he'll stay with you in this dreary store for the rest of the night if you say no.

Not really, you think briefly, but the abhorrent green of artificial lights begins to ink into the cracks of the ceiling.

He begins to walk when you nod, a few steps ahead when you turn to grab bags and see nothing left. With a soft grunt, you hurry to open the door for him, spotting the car Tony sent in one of the parking spaces further away.

The bags strain beneath Bucky’s curved fingers, bumping into each other with each little breeze. You hold out a hand to offer help, fisting and stretching your fingers out wide as an invitation when he turns to you, but he only glances from your open hand to your face.

Gathering all of the bags in his left arm, he curls his newly free fingers titillatingly around your outstretched ones.

“Punk,” you murmur affectionately, letting him guide you to the car with a sweet squeeze of your hand.

"Menace."

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction fluff #bucky barnes fanfic fluff #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes ff #bucky barnes drabble #bucky barnes fluffy imagine #bucky barnes fluffy fanfic #bucky barnes fluff fic #bucky barnes fluff imagine #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fic fluffy #bucky barnes x reader fluffy

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meetinginsamarra · 4 months

Text

mayprompts2024, #30 journey

Chapters 1 to 6 here on AO3

If you like the tattoo AU give it some love on my AO3, please. It would mean a lot to me. TYSM!

+++++

White Pony Tattoo - Part Ten (journey)

Eight days later, once again, John found himself hovering in front of 221 Baker Street. He wondered if there would ever come a time when he would be able to simply just walk inside because he was sure about it like every other normal person would probably do.

The days since he had last seen Sherlock had flown by, with John barely noticing the passage of time. He had thought a lot about what Mrs Hudson had said to him in her kitchen. Not the threat she had uttered. But the thing about Sherlock having had a hard time in his past.

John had pondered about what might have happened to him, what had hurt Sherlock so much that he had needed to put up that wall of protection around himself. To build an armour around his heart.

Of course, John wouldn’t ask. He also promised himself not to stalk Sherlock on the internet any further. If Sherlock wanted to trust John with telling him anything about his past, it was solely up to Sherlock to take the first step into this direction.

Calais Reno, the movie star, whom John had begun to follow on Instagram out of sheer curiosity, had posted a picture of the newly acquired tattoo yesterday. It had been placed on the outer side of the right calf and reminded John of a mixture between HG Wells’ steampunk-inspired time machine and Doctor Who’s Tardis. It was intricately detailed and although it was very close to a technical drawing, the image seemed three-dimensional. Given that the movie star was known to be a fan of stories about time travel, it was the perfect choice.

John would have expected nothing less, coming from Sherlock.

Which made him more and more curious about the phoenix Sherlock would put onto him this afternoon. Excited. Also, a bit anxious. What if he didn’t like Sherlock’s design after all? Sherlock had only texted John, giving him a time and a date when the tatooing would take place but he had not given the tiniest hint concerning its design.

John remembered very well the part of Sherlock’s shop sign that demanded no arguing. He would just have to trust Sherlock, John supposed.

Into battle. John opened the door.

Sherlock, dressed in a deep green shirt today, was already waiting and welcomed John with a radiant smile. This time, he reciprocated John’s firm hug with much more comfort and surety.

Without further ado, John was led into the tattoo parlour behind the curtain and Sherlock wordlessly gestured at the computer screen. It showed a black-hued phoenix. In a realistic 3D view that turned from side to side in an endless loop as if John was moving his arm. The firy bird totally eclipsed the Virgin Mary tattoo, depicted in faint red hues underneath, leaving not even the least bit of ink uncovered.

John stared with his mouth hanging open and didn’t know what to say.

“Given that you just perform the perfect impersonification of a gold fish, I take it that the design pleases you.” Sherlock deadpanned.

“Holy cow, Sherlock, this is,” John’s voice was hoarse as a multitude of feelings rushed through him, “this is… perfection.”

John must have chosen the right word because Sherlock’s face flushed red.

“It had to be. More than any tattoo before.” Sherlock swallowed, fiddling awkwardly with his hands. “I made it for you, John.”

“Sherlock, I…”

But Sherlock launched into a flurry of rapid movements, starting to set up everything for the tattoo session. It looked like a meticulously rehearsed ballet performance and John was transfixed by the lithe beauty and grace.

“Get comfortable in the seat,” Sherlock said whilst putting various needles, phials and two tattoo guns onto a tray, “I estimate that it will take three and a half hours to tattoo the phoenix. If you need a break, to move or stretch, just say so.”

John did as he had been asked and then Sherlock took off his dress-shirt to put on sterile surgical gloves. Underneath it, Sherlock wore a skin-tight black t-shirt where the short sleeves had been cut off. For the very first time, John saw Sherlock’s arms and the sight made him grateful that he was already sitting.

Sherlock’s arms were nothing short of spectacular.

Beautifully muscled, like a dancer’s, skin milky-white and smooth like marble. His right arm was not tattooed, but the left was wholly covered with intricate lines of deep black and brilliant red. From John’s point of view, they looked like dancing flames.

Sherlock apparently felt John’s eyes on him because he suddenly kept still. He turned, stepped up to John and held out the tattooed arm so that John could take a look at its front side. He carefully watched John’s reaction.

“You also have a phoenix on your arm!” John gasped. “A huge phoenix surrounded by flames!”

“Brilliant observation, John.”

John realized that every time Sherlock had become sarcastic before, at least when he had talked to John, it had been an indicator of Sherlock being nervous. Something that he would never openly admit.

But what should Sherlock be nervous about?

The tattoo was beautiful and perfect and then John remembered what Sherlock had said about perfect tattoos. That they had to connect to their wearer’s personality and history. The implications of Sherlock’s professional credo in connection with chosing a phoenix for himself made John dizzy.

Did that mean…

“Are you a survivor, too?” John blurted, overwhelmed by his sudden epiphany.

Sherlock sighed. He fought an inner battle, the pros and cons of the choice he was about to make clearly written on his face.

John didn’t say anything, knowing Sherlock needed time for what this was. To find the courage and the trust to tell John about it.

When Sherlock had made his decision, he straightened his back and carefully wiped every emotion off his face, but his eyes stayed wary and apprehensive and he looked right over John’s head.

“It’s been a long journey before I’ve arrived where I am now.” Sherlock gestured with his hand to the tattoo parlour. “It’s not been a joy ride for a very long time. I’ve literally died, John! My heart had stopped and I’ve been brought back to life.”

John simply nodded one time. He did not dare move another muscle, lest Sherlock might get spooked and retreat back into his shell.

Sherlock took a deep breath, gathering his strength. He slowly searched for John’s eyes. After finding them, he asked silently.

“Have you ever wondered why I chose the name White Pony Tattoo?”

++++++

tagging some people @totallysilvergirl @peageetibbs @lisbeth-kk @raina-at @calaisreno

#mayprompts2024 #number 30 journey #my sherlock fanfics #white pony tattoo #no beta we die like (wo)men

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stylessupremacy · 2 years

Note

“Harry had yet to go pick up Ophelia from his mum's and still had to make a quick trip to the store for some milk.” like just imagining Harry and Ophelia at the store together 😫

“C’mon Phee,” Harry grunted as he gently lifted Ophelia from her car seat.

London was getting chilly due to the weather changing so she was adorned in a pale pink sweater one piece with cuffed overalls. ***

Once she was out, Harry rested her on his hip as they ventured their way to the store's entrance.

Harry only needed some milk and pasta noodles. Ophelia finished off the milk last night before bed and the noodles were for the simple dinner Harry was making tonight.

The warmth of the grocery store hit Harry and Ophelia as they walked inside. A nice contrast to the cold weather outside.

Harry gently set Phee down as he browsed the different kinds of milk. Grabbing the correct gallon of milk Ophelia drinks every night before bed.

“Alright, let’s go get some noodles and we’ll be on our way home. Maybe we could even watch Moana? How does that sound, Phee?”

Moana has been Ophelia’s newest movie obsession for the past few days.

Ever since Anne let her watch it one day, it’s been nonstop watching and singing with Phee.

Her small, chubby hand rested in her father’s grasp as they trekked through the store.

“Yeah! Wanna watch Moana!” She exclaimed, a little skip in her step at the mention of her favorite princess movie at the time.

Harry chuckled, watching as she did a little happy dance hearing what her father had planned for the evening.

“We could even make some popc-,” Harry was cut off by a dramatic gasp coming from his little girl.

“Daddy, cookies!” Phee pointed towards a table filled with an assortment of delicious looking desserts.

She tried pulling Harry towards the tempting desserts but pouted when he wasn’t budging.

Harry sighed, the pout making him struggle, “Not today Phee. Plus we have some cookies at home already.”

The pout on her face became more prominent.

“But- but daddy, they’re pink! An- and we need them!”

“We need them?” Harry mused, watching as she frantically shook her head.

“Just because they’re pink doesn’t mean we need them, darling. And didn’t Nana let you have a cookie earlier today?”

Phee was lost for words when her father mentioned how her Nana let her have a cookie earlier when he wasn’t there.

She just did what she knew best and used her best puppy dog eyes, “Please, daddy?”

Harry went back and forth knowing this was a losing battle and he was going to give in to his daughter’s request.

“I’ll let you get them on one condition. You have to carry them for me since m’hands are full.”

Phee’s eyes lit up like a Christmas tree, “Thank you, daddy!”

Her small arms wrapped around his calf causing a grin to grow on his face.

Getting back on schedule, Harry and Phee got their pasta noodles and headed for the checkout.

“Did your daddy let you get these?” The kind older woman behind the cashier register asked since she watched the whole interaction the duo had.

She found it quite cute and comical watching the father-daughter pair.

Harry gently nudged Phee from her hiding spot behind his legs that she seeks when she’s around new people.

“It’s okay, love. She won’t bite.”

“Ye- yeah he did. He even said we could watch Moana!”

The cashier gasped, “Really? He sounds like such an amazing dad! Hope you enjoy watching Moana and eating your cookies!”

Harry placed his card into the machine leaning down to his daughter's height once again, “Tell her thank you bug.”

Phee rocked back and forth on her feet, a huge grin plastered on her face, “Thank you!”

Harry grabbed the bag from the lady, “Thank you, have a nice day.”

Harry grabbed Phee’s hand and lead them towards the exit. He swiftly picked her up and placed her on his hip.

“Y’ready to go home? Watch some Moana and have some cookies?”

“Yeah!” She giggled, hiding her face in the crook of his neck to protect her from the cold air, snuggling into his hoodie further.

The two were cuddled together with a blanket enjoying the warmth their house provided on this chilly day in London. They sat on the sofa watching Moana and eating cookies and Harry couldn’t imagine his life any other way.

Tag list 🏷️

@michellekstyles @vrittivsanghavi

#inbox 💌#anonymous #harry styles #harrystyles #love on tour #harry styles x reader #harry styles writing #harry styles imagine #dad!harry #harry styles blurb #harry styles fluff #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fic rec #harry styles smut #harry styles masterlist #harry styles x you #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction

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gyllenhaalstories · 2 years

Photo

BREAK ROOM — DANNY SHARP

summary: what danny wants, danny gets.

warnings: curse words, smut (very mild dubcon if you squint, quickie, implied exhibitionism & public sex, hair pulling, pussy eating, tongue fucking, biting, forced orgasm). 18+ NO MINORS.

word count: 1620

gifs credits: @/stephendorff (cropped) / divider credits: @/firefly-graphics

notes: pwp is not my cup of coffee made in danny’s keurig machine tea but at least i tried. this is a friendly reminder that jake gyllenhaal in ambulance is my babygirl. 🚑 thank you for reading & REMEMBER TO REBLOG!

"Sit.” Danny was behind the counter of his not-so brand new break room. ‘It’s all shiny and shit. Boss really splurged on us. And I splurged on that fancy little baby right here. The fuckin’ crap rich people make these days, can you believe it? It ain’t that hard making a damn cup o’ coffee’. He told you this story over and over again.

You assumed the adrenaline rush of his unusual 9 to 5 burned a couple of brain cells. He repeated himself a whole lot, from someone who claimed he hated to tell someone the same thing twice.”

“The fuck are you doing? Sit, here.”

You slid down the bar stool you chose as your seat. “My bad, I didn’t see the seat had your name on it.” You raised your hands in the air, asking for a truce.

The machine stopped making noise and a small white cup on a matching plate was pushed in your direction.

You inspected the coffee that appeared out of the Keurig capsule Danny had popped inside of the machine. “It’s too hot.”

“Aww, it’s too hot.” His tone was mocking, his pout was anything but sincere. “Guess we’re gonna have to wait until it cools down.”

There was confusion written all over your face. He was being weird, and that sparkle in his eyes was telling you there was a bad idea brewing up in his head.

Danny’s chin pointed to the glass counter.

Finally, you put two and two together.

“I need to do everything myself around here.” He leaned down to wrap his hand around your right calf, helping you raise your leg until your foot rested on the stool. He stood back up while he spoke. “I just want to enjoy a nice break. Think you can do that, sweetheart?” His hands were now on your hips, yours were behind you on the cold glass. “Of course you can. You know you want to.”

You lifted yourself, palms flat against the surface of the counter, and with Danny’s help you were propped up. In front of you, there was the seemingly endless rows of vintage car he babysat for his clients, Danny beaming with a wide smile from ear to ear. And behind you, there was the floor to ceiling windows that you complimented when he first showed you the extension to the warehouse. You should have kept your mouth shut, because at this very moment, you hated these windows.

“All you gotta do,” Danny wrapped the same hand that was on your leg, this time around your neck. He kissed you deeply before he finished his sentence. “is sit there and look pretty for me. Think you can do that?”

Your vision was blurry and your heart was racing, not only from the harsh kiss the two of you just exchanged. “But Danny, they can see —”

“That’s my smart girl.” He brought his hands to your thighs and caressed them all the way up and scrunched your skirt up. “So easy for me, it was like you wore that skirt to beg me to fuck you the second you walked in, huh?”

You tried to calculate the risks. The worst that could happen was getting caught, nothing his employees had never experienced before. The best? Danny would provide it effortlessly. “Hurry the fuck up before I change my mind.”

“It’s not like you have a choice, but you look cute thinking that you do.” Arrogance fuelled his smirk as he pulled on his pants, giving them some room to flex around his muscular thighs while he knelt down. Not once did he break eye contact with you, instead he savoured the sight of the sunlight creating a halo around your silhouette while your jaw dropped progressively lower until he, too, hit low on the ground.

You propped your leg up higher, foot leaving a print on the cushion of the stool and Danny pushed your other leg open for him.

He wasted no time — thankfully — moving your panties to the side. You could not handle his teasing, especially when you could hear the guys outside shouting nonsense. He gave you one bite to your inner thigh. “Stay with me. Need all your attention, babe.” You locked eyes with him, again, when he flattened his tongue and pressed it against your pussy. He poked through your folds and brushed lightly over your clit. “That’s it. All eyes on me.”

Your left hand abandoned the counter and you placed it on the top of Danny’s head, fingers gripping into his short hair while his tongue worked your clit.

He twirled circles around you, moaning when he got to taste more of your juices.

“Fuck!” You let out when he sucked on your bundle of nerves.

He poked his tongue out, curling it ever so slightly to keep bumping on your clit with every swipe he did. He buried his tongue in your pussy, pressing his nose against you as he shook his head from left to right.

Your moans were nothing but encouragements to him. The louder you moaned, the more they echoed inside of the warehouse and the more chances you had of getting caught.

That was perfection in his book. He stuck his tongue all the way out, he did not even bother spreading your pussy lips open for him. He pushed in your entrance, fighting the very little resistance you had to dip the tip of his tongue in the wetness that pooled at your hole.

“Danny! Danny, Dan —” His name got stuck in your throat, just like the breaths you so desperately tried to take in a just as desperate attempt at trying to slow down your release.

It became even harder when he looked up at you to give even more attention to your clit. It was sensitive, aching to tip over the edge and he played with that. Danny alternated between fucking you on his tongue, helped by your hand that pulled on his hair and followed the back and forth movements of his head. He barely pulled away, he let the spit and juices coat as much of his face as he wanted.

You tried to warn him about how close you were, but only a high pitched squeal escaped your body.

It was not like he cared anyway, none of your warnings would successfully pull him away from what he wanted the most: the taste of you, the throbbing of your clit and the clenching of your walls against his tongue. He fucked your pussy just fast enough to drive you impossibly closer. He frowned when he noticed you were trying to get away from him.

“They’re coming over here!” You spoke, referring to Danny’s employees. He stopped your poor attempt at closing your thighs, closing his access to your pussy. He pushed your legs open.

“I don’t give a fuck. The only one coming is you. You better give it to me, understood?” He was firm, it was not a warning, it was a final order. “I won’t stop even if they’re in the room with us. Now you better fucking cum for me.”

You nodded your head frantically when he busied himself between your legs again.

“Smart decision.” Before you could even think of scoffing at him and remind him of his little speech about decision making, he lapped at your pussy again. He moaned against your puffy folds, sending vibrations through your core.

You used up all the strength you had to look down at him through your lashes and the sight of his face — probably even more blissful than yours — was what you needed to finish on his mouth.

He sucked on your clit and followed the waves that convulsed your body until you calmed down. He finished by cleaning you up, tongue flat against your inner thighs, licking up your pussy to catch every bit of you he could swallow.

You could not help but giggle when you noticed the state of his face while he sprung back up. “You look like a mess.”

“Look who’s talking.”

You were almost thankful there was no mirror in the room, so you could not see that the tears of pleasure you cried when Danny made you cum had gotten your eyes red, that you had this empty minded expression spread on your face and, most importantly, that there was a very visible wet patch on the back of your skirt you would be innocently unaware of until you sit back down and felt it on your skin.

Danny took one look at the beverage he served you and clicked his tongue. He opened the door of the stainless steel refrigerator and pulled out the bucket of ice cubes. He used the small tongs to drop a cube in the mug. “You got iced coffee now. What do we say?”

Your answer was interrupted by a pair of his men who invaded the room and raided the fridge and cabinets, taking beers and Cheetos on their way out without saying hi and goodbye.They gave the two of you an odd stare, which lingered on Danny. They shrugged and left before they would get scolded for staring at his majesty for too long.

You rolled your eyes — both at this comical interaction and at Danny’s question — and grabbed the cup, taking a quick sip from it. You gathered all the bitterness you could find within yourself to let him know you did not like him bossing you around that much. “Thank you.”

The aftermath of your orgasm glistened on his bearded chin, enlightening his shit-eating grin. “See? It wasn’t so hard.”

#jake gyllenhaal smut #jake gyllenhaal imagine #jake gyllenhaal x reader #jake gyllenhaal x you #jake gyllenhaal fanfic #danny sharp #danny sharp smut #danny sharp fanfic #danny sharp imagine

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forcedtogrow · 2 months

Note

I've been going to the gym for a few months now, can I message you to ask about tips/routines?

Please feel free to message me if u want more specifics. I personally run a traditional Push Pull Legs split, with 2 days a week for push right now

So for example

Sunday- legs

Monday-push

Tuesday-off

Wednesday-pull

Thursday-off

Friday-push

Saturday-off and/or abs circuit day/myoreps to absolute failure (at home workout)

Legs:

I keep it simple

Barbell squats 5x5

Hip thrusts 4x10-12

Leg press-this one is a little odd. I do one set for 10 reps and then rest 20 seconds and do 10 more reps of that same weight; I do this twice (so, 4 sets total). Use a lower weight as needed

Calf press(whatever machine is available) 5x14-20

Leg extensions 2x12-15 or a drop set

Push:

Barbell bench press- 7 set doing a pyramid style of adding weight and lowering weight throughout the sets (think=structure of the app nSuns) I do this to failure for each weight and don’t care about 1RM at all

Decline bench 3 sets to failure

Incline bench 3 sets to failure (usually 10-12)

Seated shoulder press (arms should be slightly angled in, not straight out) 4x8-12

Dumbbell lateral raise 3 to failure (8-12)

Overhead press 3-5 sets

Reverse cable fly (ESSENTIAL for big shoulders, do not skip. This will likely be very difficult at first bc these muscle are not used often and you should use a low weight to start) 3x10-12 or to failure if I want my upper body to look thiiiccc if im going out after or whtevr

Tricep dip 3 sets to failure (hits short head of Tricep)

Tricep overhead extension 3 sets to failure (hits long head of Tricep)

yeah I know my push day is crazy, but it works. not great for beginners to do this much, so I’d cut out decline bench and pick btwn seated shoulder press and overhead press to avoid injury

Pull:

Deadlift 5x5

Bent over barbell row 3x8-12

T-bar 3x10-12

Lat pull down (wide grip) 3 sets to failure (8-12 at least)

Lat pull down (v bar or close grip) 3 sets to failure, lower weight as needed to get reps in with good form

Cable row (wide grip) 3x12+ make sure you are pull the bar to the bottom of your rib cage to engage your entire back

Back extension (weighted) 2x20 if possible, just body weight if you’ve never done this

Preacher curl 4 sets to absolute failure (must be failure for growth here) at a weight you can do at least 12 reps of while maintaining form

Cross body curl 2x8-12

Cable hammer curl drop set

(I switch up bicep exercises, these are just my current)

This is my basic run-down; I try to avoid accessory movements and stick with compound lifts. For me, hitting all 3 benches is non-negotiable, but I am neurotic. Some good beginner resources are athleanx, who is my favorite exercise yt. FTM fitness has great pages as well, and I can show more info if needed.

#ask #lifting routine #muscle encouragement #I realize my routine may be a little much for some ppl but tbf it took me a while to work up to this

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oddinary4bts · 1 month

Note

Cc JK: share your workout routine please 🤣

Oof I do not have it in me to write a male workout routine hahahaha but mine is 2 days a week (can’t go more), one upper body day and one lower body day

The upper body day is:

10 min cardio

3 x 20 leg lifts while holding a 25 lbs plate for abs

1 min plank, followed by 1 min of side planks on each side

3 x 20 alternate chest press with dumbbells

3 x 20 (on each side so 3 x 40 total) back row with dumbbells

3 x 20 alternate lying tricep extension with dumbbells

3 x 12 seated military shoulder press with dumbbells

3 x 20 alternate bicep curls with dumbbells

3 x 15 reverse curls with dumbbells (not alternate, do the two arms at the same time. You can also use a bar for that)

3 x 12 face pulls on the cable pulley machine

Stretch for 15 min

Now the lower body day

10 min cardio

3 x 20 leg lifts while holding a 25 lbs plate for abs

1 min plank, followed by 1 min of side planks on each side

3 x 12 hip abductors followed by adductors on the sus machine (so 12 abductors followed by adductors then rest then next series)

3 x 12 leg curls

3 x 15 hyperextensions (for the lower back)

3 x 12 leg extensions

3 x 12 seated calf raises

3 x 12 bulgarian split squats on each side (24 total)

15 min stretching

For every exercise I take the heaviest weight I can do. The goal is to reach failure. And I drink a protein shake after every workout too to help with building muscle! Do not skip cardio (it warms up your body for the exercises) and stretching (it helps to make sure you don’t get stiff from working out and also helps with muscle recovery). I usually take around 1 min break between each series, except the bulgarian split squat where I take longer cause they kill me hahaha

Hope that helps even tho it’s not what Jungkook does haha

#anon ask #chasing cars ask #chasing cars #jungkook #chasing cars series #about me #personal

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layla4567 · 1 year

Text

"Magic night"

Colin Zabel x Latina reader

Summary: It was your second date with Colin, you started dating for a few days but you still didn't know each other well enough. You are a foreigner, you came from far away to start a new life away from the problems of your native country. Colin invited you to a bar for a drink, a quiet evening, or not?

Warning: Slightly suggestive, alcoholism, a little angst ,mention of economic crisis, impoverishment of a country and coup, also spanish words but don't worry they will have their translation.

A/N: I want to clarify that I never saw this series (so sorry) but I wanted to write something with this character because he seems very soft, and yes, this is quite specific but I really wanted the protagonist to know Spanish idk why

..............................................................................................................................

Sitting in Colin's car seat, I was accommodating the folds of my skirt for the fourth time somewhat anxious, despite being the 2 date I always got a little nervous when I saw him, I just couldn't help but feel a tickle in the pit of my stomach. Apart from the dark blue jean skirt, I was wearing a light black fabric shirt and my hair was somewhat messy with a flower-shaped clip, I knew he liked it. Completing my outfit was wine red lipstick and I was wearing black wedge boots that hugged my entire calf almost to the knee.

The detective who was trying to pay attention to the road could not help noticing from his peripheral vision your hands move, smiling with a free hand he took yours in his

I was looking through the window absently when his soft touch made me turn my head in surprise, fist at his hand and then at his face.

"Is everything alright, darling?"- He smiled as he kept looking ahead.

He had just called me darling? Oh I think that's another thing I like about him to add to the list. Their cute nicknames.

"Yeah, no worries"

His hand was still caressing mine, his fingers tracing slow circles on the back of my hand and on my knuckles. His warmth was making me melt but I tried to keep my composure.

Every time I went out in a car I liked to look out the window and see the buildings or the landscape in general. The sun was going down and the clouds were dyed in orange and pink colors, it looked like a work of art. Focused on the sky, I had not realized that we were arriving at the bar. A neon sign illuminated the car and our faces, there were tables outside and inside.

Colin opened my door and held out a careful hand to help me out.

"You look very beautiful today"- He said innocently

I looked at him with wide and surprised eyes while a shy radiant smile appeared on my face. He couldn't even imagine what those words had done to me, or the hours I spent trying to find the perfect outfit. I tried not to show my flushed cheeks

"Do you really think so?"- I said as if trying to play it down and feigning confidence, although that phrase meant the world to me.

"Of course yes, I'm always honest"

Now Zabel offered me his arm cavalierly inviting me to put his hand in it to walk together towards the entrance

"Well now I'll be honest, that blue suit looks radiant on you"- I told him flirtatious

And it was true, he was wearing a matching teal blue suit, a plain white shirt, and a black tie that matched beautifully. I was so used to seeing him in his typical black coat and dark shirts that seeing him in other colors made everything about him stand out.

Colin chuckled sheepishly as we entered the bar. The walls inside were painted a blood red while the freshly varnished wooden floor shone like a mirror. The bar was full of bottles and cocktails that the bartender was masterfully preparing. There was also a live band playing, a bass player, a drummer and the lead singer. I loved live bands, well, I loved music in general. I remember that for my 15th birthday my mother had bought me a karaoke machine, she almost instantly regretted it, I wouldn't stop using it in my room at full volume.

We went to the bar and took a seat, the music was nice. The bartender asked us what we were going to drink. Colin had a margarita and I had a gin and tonic.

"Wow, you seem to like strong drinks"- he said

"Over time you get used to it"- I laughed

While the boy in the red bowtie was preparing the drinks as if he were a juggler in a circus, Colin and I began to chat.

"So tell me... what prompted you to move to this place?"

A shadow darkened my gaze and I suddenly became serious, I lowered my head a bit uncomfortable

The detective noticed this so he quickly said

"I'm sorry, I know it's a somewhat personal question, you don't have to answer it if you don't want to."- An expression of sorrow crossed his eyes.

"No it's ok I just-"

I wanted to continue but I felt the weight of a rock in my throat. Even so I took a breath and answered

"My country had just come out of a coup d'état, the whole world had been left poor, we hardly had to eat. I remember my mother crying, the screams of the military. It was horrible"

I closed my eyes so that the tears that were about to appear would not be seen. Colin sympathetic caressed my arm rubbing it from top to bottom which gave me the strength to continue.

"Thank God my family was not harmed. When I grew up I promised my family that one day I would raise enough money to help them financially, even if it meant moving to another country."

Zabel looked at me giving me all the attention in the world and his face showed an expression of anguish as if everything I've experienced had been experienced by him too.

"I'm so sorry about all that"

"Thank you Colin.."- I was able to genuinely smile until my eyes were slanted as if they were two parallel lines, it was comforting to know that someone was listening to me without judging me

The bartender had already finished the drinks and served them to us. We thank him with a smile

"However, now I'm here and I'm not doing so bad, and the best thing is that I'm talking to the most handsome detective in town"- I told him while taking the straw between my lips and winking

I liked to make him nervous

He looked down at his drink laughing as his cheeks flushed slightly. Bingo

"Well, enough about me, now I want to hear from you, you're working on a new case, right?"

"Yes, in fact, I'm trying to make progress on that"

And so he began to talk to me about the details of the case, his co-worker and everything. It seemed like an interesting but dangerous job at the same time, I looked at him carefully while he spoke calmly, I couldn't help but worry about him every time he talked about the injured people who were involved in detective work.

"You're a very brave man"

He looked at me surprised and confused.

"Why?"

"Well, with everything you told me, it seems like you fear for your life all the time."- I tried to sound funny but I was really worried.

"Well you are partly right, this profession is dangerous but don't worry, I know how to defend myself"- He said with a smile to reassure me and put his hand on mine

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

We continued to drink our cocktails, mine was almost empty and it was getting to my head a bit because I could feel the heat of the alcohol in my blood, especially on my face.

Without warning and laughing at who knows that I asked Colin

"Do you want me to teach you words in Spanish?"

He laughed enchanted

"Okay, miss y/n, teach me"

"Do you know how to say party in Spanish?"- I said as I moved my straw in circles inside the glass

He shook his head, amused by my behavior.

"It's said: Fiesta, F-I-E-S-T-A"- I pronounced it slowly so that he can understand me and repeat it

Colin repeated the phrase with a cute American accent, it sounded adorable.

"And job it's trabajo"

The handsome detective tried to repeat the word but failed pathetically, then annoyed and getting closer I told him

"No, no no, not like that"- I gently grasp his jaw to force him to look at me.

"Look at my lips, tra-ba-jo"

He didn't expect that contact with my skin and even less when I told him to look at my lips, he immediately blushed and tried to repeat the word just to give me the satisfaction of listening to him and knowing that he learned the Spanish lesson like a good student. I felt like a preschool teacher

"Yaaay muy bien! oh that's another word haha"-I laughed nasally- "and means very good"

"It seems to me or are you a little drunk?"

I gasped

"Naah, it's your imagination"- I made a gesture with my hand like shooing a fly

Colin seemed entranced by my presence because he kept laughing in amusement.

I leaned my elbows on the bar and laughing like a schoolgirl I told him

"Guess what it means mi amor"

"I-I don't know"

"Oh c'mon. You really don't know?"

"I have no idea"

I framed my face with my hands while blinking flirtatiously.

"Means my love"- I smiled mischievously while biting my lower lip.

The brunette scratched his shirt collar heatedly with an awkward smile.

Suddenly your favorite song started being played by the band

"Ohh my god I love that song! You have to come dance with me!!"- I told him while I grabbed his wrist and dragged him to where the audience was with the musicians.

"Oh I don't think that's a good idea"- Colin said as he resisted my push and sat back down on the stool.

"Pleaseee"- I pouted sadly

"I don't know how to dance, but you go. I see you from here"

"Fineee but you are missing the opportunity to dance with a sexy latina"- I said swaying my hips

I went to the center of the room near where the musicians were playing, waving my arms in the air happily. My confidence was through the roof. I let myself be carried away by the rhythm of the music, moving my legs from one side to the other and my arms making waves while I closed my eyes letting myself go. My clothes were tight to the body highlighting my attributes and my hands ran through my body from head to toe ending on my thighs near my groin while slowly lowering to the ground.

Zabel's eyes widened.

I continued dancing with my eyes closed, my head moved from side to side as did my waist, but in an act of rebellion I went up on stage and grabbed the microphone of the main vocalist.

"What the hell are you doing"- He said irritated and confused

"Oh no, this can't be good"- Colin sighed

"Hellooo amigoos!"- I grabbed the microphone and exclaimed trying to keep my balance

"Tonight I want to dedicate this special song to that pretty boy over there who is sitting at the bar and covering his face"- I said pointing at him shamelessly

The detective covered his eyes with an embarrassed hand and laughed nervously, he wanted the earth to swallow him up

The bassist approached me annoyed and said

"Hey you can't do that he-!"

"Shh!"- I shut him up by putting a finger to his lips - "Now I will sing"

I started to sing a couple of Lady Gaga songs while seductively dancing every movement I did, it was full of elegance and passion, it was in my blood. From time to time he gave Colin provocative glances like a hunter watching his prey. I knew how to dance and capture people's attention, my hips did not stop moving and waving to the rhythm of the songs like a belly dancer, there was not a single inch of my body that I did not move. Sometimes I would bring my attention to my hands either by moving them in circles in the air and gesturing like flamenco dancers or by bringing them to my bust. I think people also liked my voice, I wasn't a professional but I put all my effort and enthusiasm into it. I could hit high notes and some low ones without so much effort.

Detective Zabel didn't know whether to run away or stay to continue enjoying the show, but he looked at me with dreamy eyes and a sparkle of joy.

"Your friend seems funny huh?"

"Uh excuse me, what?"- Colin turned his head in confusion to know who was speaking to him.

"Your little friend, the one in the pretty black shirt, seems to know how to have fun"- The bartender, while cleaning a glass, elbowed him as a sign of complicity while winking at him and then burst out laughing.

"Oh ye-yeah. She's amazing"- This last he said in almost a whisper. This woman aroused new emotions in the detective, and he liked them

Now the crazy singer began to sing in Spanish, although nobody understood her, they enjoyed the music

"SI NO SUPISTE AMAR, AHORA TE PUEDES MARCHAR!" (If you didn't know how to love, now you can leave)

"BOOM BOOM PON A GOZAR TU CUERPO CON EL BOOM, BOOM BOOM PON A GOZAR TU CUERPO, WOOO" (put your body to enjoy with the boom)- I was jumping like I was in carnival while waving an arm in the air

I stopped singing, I was exhausted

"Thank you dear audience, y ahora chupenme la-!" (and now suck my-)

The vocalist, fed up with me, snatched the microphone from me before I could finish the sentence.

"Go insult somewhere else, I have a Colombian cousin, you know? I understood what you said"

I came down from the audience somewhat embarrassed but happy because the people were applauding me happily, it was nice to be the center of attention for 5 minutes

I got to Colin who was still sitting at the bar looking at me like I was a Christmas present smiling with his eyes and mouth

"My, my. You're quite the jackpot"

"Oh what can I say?"- I said modest

"Let's go I think it's already quite late"- He looked at his wristwatch, it was 9:30

Colin Zabel took me affectionately but firmly by the arm, accompanying me towards the exit and then resting his hand on my lower back.

I got in the car together with him and we began the return to my apartment. Colin drove calmly while I still kept the music on my mind, nodding my head rhythmically and rocking my foot up and down. I looked at the streets distracted through the window. I suddenly turned my whole body so that I could face the detective. I rested an arm on the headrest of my seat, looking at him mischievously.

"What did you think of today's performance?"

"I think it was magical"- He smiled and showed some sexy dimples.- "I didn't know you could dance so well, my favorite part was when you took the vocalist's microphone and made him shut up"- When he laughed his nose wrinkled adorablely, he looked like a bunny

"Really?"- I laughed hysterically throwing my head back.- "Ok yeah, that was good"

We continue laughing heartily until I get closer to Colin laughing and resting my hand on his leg. I stroked his thigh coming up a bit near his groin and gave a playful squeeze.

Colin, who was not expecting that, tensed his muscles and clenched his jaw, letting out a contained grunt.

I looked at him biting my lower lip into a smile while still having my hand on his leg.

"Uhmm I-I think the alcohol affected you a little"- He moaned slowly, unable to contain himself.

Music for my ears

I laughed and slowly removed my hand from his thigh.

"I wasn't really drunk..."

Colin turned his head to gape at me, but remembered he was driving so he quickly looked back at the road.

"What did you just say??"

I shrugged as I looked at him, smiling innocently as if I had done some mischief and was about to punish myself.

"Did you seriously think it was my first time trying a drink that strong?"- I said naughty

Zabel snorted

"Please don't be mad, I know it was stupid"- I begged - "The cocktail had gone to my head a bit but not so much that I lost consciousness, I was conscious"- Now totally serious I look at him worried

"I'm sorry"- I sounded like a wounded animal as I looked down at my skirt. I didn't want to play the dead fly but now I realized that what I did was irresponsible

Colin heard the tone of regret in my voice and since he didn't like to see me down he said

"I'm not mad I promise, plus I have to admit it was kind of fun. And no one got hurt so you didn't do anything serious"- He gave me a warm look and a smile that was brighter than the stars in the sky that night.

Relieved, I smiled back at him as he continued driving to my house. Again he helped me get out of the car and walked me to the entrance.

"Well y/n I really had a good time today, I say again that you are full of surprises"

"Aww you don't suck either"

He laughed

We stared at each other's eyes, both shone in a particular way, was it love?

"Well I guess I'll see you another day Detective Zabel"- And without waiting for an answer, I grabbed his face with both hands and planted a passionate but quick kiss on his lips. It was our second date anyway and that's what happens at the end of one, right?

Colin stared at me silently, not knowing how to react.

"See you tomorrow, mi vida"- I smiled even with his face in my hands

He looked at me smiling confused

"I think you'll have to ask me out again to find out what that means."- I said amused as I quickly opened the door and entered my house.

The brown-haired boy stared at the door for a few seconds without knowing what to do, but then he laughed, placing his hands in his pants pocket as he headed towards his car. He would definitely ask her out on another date.

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It's not the best I've written, sorry for disappointing the fans of this series 😭

at least i hope i made you laugh

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