#wesley poole

[blaseballzinejam]

8 DAYS UNTIL ZINE JAM!! 🔥 by @iznjstilldoodles

[fruitcage]

Crystal Blue Persuasion, Wesley Tingey

[mycatismyfriend]

His side? His side’s kinda funny. He sacrificed everything he believed in to save that kid. Wesley Wyndam-Pryce | Buffyverse | The Black Rider

[tangyyrine]

Kendrick Lamar has the chance to do the funniest thing ever

[infinitepoolfinishes]

[subfootboii]

You met Wesley and Ian in college and you three instantly developed a friendship. Nether of them knew about your secret and you didn't plan to let them know. You just take any chance you get to look at their feet and fantasies about worshipping them.

On your birthday they surprised you with a weekend trip to a resort so you three can enjoy your time alone.

"By the way, we only found a room with two beds so we'll have to figure out who will sleep on the couch."

Wesley told you after you arrived. You all emptied your baggage and sat on the couch. They both wore swimming shorts and their flip-flops which you couldn't take your eyes off.

"What are we looking at birthday boy? Like my big feet?"

"No Wesley... why are you both wearing swimming shorts?"

"Ohh, there is a private pool in the back. Did you think we came all the way here to play some board games?"

"Romeo, Ian is talking to you! You are looking at our feet. Any confessions boy?"

"I'm sorry I just get distracted-"

"No need to lie. Ian and I are your best friends, just admit... this will be your best birthday so far if you do."

"I didn't really want anyone to know... but I couldn't help myself when I saw you both half naked with flip-flops."

"Say the words Romeo."

"I... I like feet. I have a foot fetish."

"This weekend will be so fun birthday boy... I guess you'll go with foot boy now. Ian?"

"Not sure about were this is going Wesley."

"Oh come on. He likes feet and you'll have yours worshipped. He'll gladly sleep on the couch too. Right foot boy?"

"I-"

"Wrong answer. Right one is 'yes lord Wesley' or 'yes lord Ian'. Clear?"

"Yes... yes lord Wesley."

"Good boy. See Ian he loves it. Let's go to the pool now he'll serve us there."

Ian followed Wesley to the pool. You followed after them shocked by everything that just happened and realizing how your relationship with them just changed forever. They both got in the pool, Wesley started flaunting his huge feet and Ian followed.

"Get naked foot boy then come kiss our feet."

"Yes lord Wesley."

Without thinking about it you did what he ordered you to. The site of their feet made your mind so weak and destroyed your resistance.

"That's a bit pathetic..."

"That's the point Ian. You are good looking alpha man buddy. I know you have it you to humiliate weak boys like him. He belongs beneath your feet."

You got in the pool and started kissing their feet. Ian started laughing, splashing you with water using his foot, while Wesley looked like he's used to this.

"Suck on our toes foot boy."

"Yes lord Ian."

"Pathetic. Absolutely pathetic."

"See buddy. I knew you had it in you."

You sucked on their toes as they both laughed and called you names.

"You'll get used to such treatment in no time buddy. Now relax and enjoy your vacation. Foot boy over here will take care of everything."

"I bet he will."

"Yes lord Wesley. Yes lord Ian."

(Story suggestion by: @bf4eternity)

[piece-of-the-pie-if]

Demo! 🍑 Directory! 🍑 Trigger Warnings! 🍑

It's the first day of senior year and the people are itching for some drama... apparently.

When you get caught slacking by your best friend and staring off into the abyss turns out to be resident cool kid Dylan Quinn you're dragged under in to the cess pool of love-based-drama that surrounds NYC's McKinley High.

Just as you're forced into a love triangle by the school's resident queen of mean, Kinsley Grace–Cameron, for the mere rumour of your supposed crush on Dylan, your least favourite teacher assigns you babysitting duties with the new guy, Shay Walker and the rebel-without-a-cause J Montgomery for your year long finals project──landing you with the starring role in the latest gossip mill.

How are you ever going to survive the graduating class of '25?

There's no murder, there's no magic, there's no monsters or ancient societies, no sci-fi future apocalypse, no treasure to find or deadly goons... just high school seniors navigating romance and maybe an asshole teacher and potential conspiracy theories.

Features! 🍑 FAQ! 🍑

romance one (or more*...) of five love interests! are you in touch with your feelings? could you be non-committal? do you fall hard and fast and with everyone?

customise your mc! from your appearance to your gender to your personality and your family relations!

overcome your senior year of school at Jackson McKinley High! are you studious or a slacker? do you care for popularity or are you content as a relative nobody?

get a job! in your family's bakery or your local café or something more unorthodox!

be the object of the rumour mill! does it feel like unwanted drama is following you? or do you live for it and actively feed into it?

+with five solo routes, two poly routes and two love triangles you have a plethora of choice! love triangles include──dylan and kinsley as well as dylan and theo while poly routes are as such──the cool crush and the mean girl, #kinslan──the new guy and the rebel, #jayne!

──*please note that this is a romance focused i.f and as such no set aro/ace/aroace route is present.

engage in the conspiracy theory surrounding your school! is your least favourite teacher dating your favourite teacher? is there actually a cannibal on the faculty? is there a reason for the sudden spike of suspensions?

Key Pieces! 🍑 [ LI Introductions! ]🍑

[RO] The ‘Crush’!──Dylan Quinn [gender locked─they/them─12/01/2006]

━@.dylquill

comforting smiles, playful eyes, paint stained clothes, chipped nail polish, chest binders, chalk covered fingers, messy hair, cluttered rooms, sculptural clay, dark hair, friendly words, genuine popularity, intense loyalty, unspoken understanding but silent judgement too.

[RO] The New Guy!──Shayne Walker [gender locked─he/him─04/04/2007]

━@.onlyshay

cheeky smirks and cheeky winks, ruffled hair, english accents, comedic timing, wide smiles, loudly laughing, wilting in silence, heartache for home, missing friends, curly brown hair, warm brown eyes, younger brother, older brother, everyday adventures, discovering new people, new places.

[RO] The Mean Girl!──Kinsley Grace–Cameron [gender locked─she/her─11/21/2006]

━@.kgracecameron/@.kinsleys_

shades of green and white, sun bleached blonde hair, cold blue eyes, sunblock tanned patterns, sickly sweet smiles, eye rolls, longing glances, hesitation in silence, secrets behind closed doors, heavy shoulders with a head held high, craving difference, stubborn to a fault.

[RO] The Rebel!──Jaxon/Jasmin Montgomery [gender selectable─he/him or she/her─06/17/2007]

━@.m0ntjax/@.m0ntjas

stick and poke tattoos, cigarette smoke, uncaring attitude, strong and silent type, doesn't know what a shirt is, bloody knuckles, sunglasses collections, secret book worm, borrowed vape pens, complicated family relations, exploding anger, protective older sibling, almost alcoholic, androgyny, short hair, italian heritage, intellectual depth, no regard for authority.

[RO] The Best Friend!──Theo Wesley [gender selectable─he/him, she/her or they them─09/30/2007]

━@.yelsewoeht

hair care as self care, cat parent, not-so-subtle pinning, rooftop picnics, friend dates, jazz cafés, plant parent, eco nerd, photos as memories, dark skin, coiled hair, far sighted glasses, people watching, balcony lover, bookshop worker, essays about love, hugs as a love language, suffer in silence type, made of money but would rather they weren't, smoking weed but only on the weekends, indescribable feeling of loneliness in a crowded room.

The Bestest Friend!──Chris/Chloe/Charlie West [gender locked─he/him, she/her or they/them─02/14/2007]

━@.east_coast_cw

The ‘Rival’!──Valory/Vinny Williamson [gender selectable─she/her or they/them─10/03/2007]

━@.victorywills

The Cool Teacher!──Easton/Estelle Bharti [gender selectable─he/him or she/her─05/19/1992]

The Asshole Teacher!──Nolan Thorp [gender locked─he/him─11/26/1978]

©️ bonnie berry 2023──@moretinyideas 🍑

[wrixie]

🍒 FIRST GROUP OUTING | CHERISHING CHERRY

Cherry threw a "party" at the park so everyone could get out and get to know each other better! The date started with Matt making tons of food because Cherry was just a bit peckish. That's love right there!

Nikolas was not feeling the park today, it's hot and he'd rather be by the pool

Cherry asked Terrance about his daughter so Terrance whipped his phone out to share some photos of his little girl with her. Cherry would just love to meet her one day soon!

While Matt and Cherry were trying their best at chess, Billy came over and flirted with MATT instead of CHERRY lmfao like boy what xD

Nearing the end of the day, Cherry wasn't feeling too hot... so she complained to Wesley about the heat for 20 minutes

beginning | previous | next

[whumpsoda]

WSFSP - M is for Memory

A third piece for this month’s event Alphabet of Whump by @alphabetofwhump! I really really like this one >:3

Masterlist

cw: memory loss/amnesia, nudity mention (non sexual), pet whumpee, box boy universe/bbu adjacent, Institutionalized slavery, conditioned whumpee, past abuse, recovering whumpee

——————

Mutt whined, a croaking sound that churned in his gut. The rain was only getting harder, faster, stinging against the wood and seeping in through the cracks, icy droplets plopping across his reddened skin.

Every inch of him was cold to the touch, with not a single luxury of clothing to provide even the smallest of warmth. The grass below him was pooling with mud, sticky and tainting him as he was balled up in a cage much too tight.

He couldn’t remember exactly what he did to deserve it - the cold and the fear was getting to his head and jumbling his brain all up - but no matter how freezing he was, Mutt was still sure he did indeed deserve it. Even if his leg were not chained and bolted to the wood, he would not have made the attempt to escape his punishment.

Stupid mutts who can’t seem to follow simple directions get the dog house. I thought you would’ve learned that by now, but it seems you’re just too dumb.

Say it, Mutt. Say it until you’ve gotten it permanently burned into your thick skull.

“S- st- stupid…,” his teeth chattered faster than his mouth could handle, tripping around his words and turning them to mush, “m- mutts get- t- t the dog houssse.” The last bit was left slurred and slushy, melting around his tongue. “Stuu- pid-,”

Interrupted by a crashing scream of the sky a wail of his own spilled out, aching in his chill throat. His knees dipped further into his chest, spine tapping the ceiling of his enclosure. It seemed even the outside was eager to discipline him.

Another flash of lightning, cracking close. Fat globs of tears mixed in with the rain, drooling down his cheeks.

Waking up, everything was a blur of darkness. Something flashed, just a swift flicker of light, as his eyesight worked desperately to adjust. Heavy breathing in his ears was found to be coming from his own lungs, quick with disorientation and panic.

It all died down to near silence once the still, blue room settled into sight, save for the creak of the walls and the continuous tapping on the roof. The dresser, the closet, the window, the bunk bed, his stuffed animal, all of it was there. So was Wesley, the only indication of his presence above him being the smallest shift in his sleeping position.

Even through his drowsy haze, the mere fact that Wesley was still nicely sound asleep allowed an easiness to wash through him.

Whatever woke Mutt, - that wasn’t right, but stupid mutts get the dog house - a booming roar rolling over clouds and through the sky, was loud and reverberating in his ears. The noise was terrifyingly familiar, and as soon as he caught a glimpse of the rain soaked window, he was sure what it was.

Making his way down the green soaked hallway, through the darkness he stumbled over his own feet and the blanket draped around his shoulders. Mutt hissed a whimper, curling in on himself as the thunder sounded once more, a chill shaking up his spine.

Stopping, holding himself steady with the wall, he wound his eyelids tight, as if that would block out the bitter noise.

Stupid mutts get the dog house.

Still too tired to clearly think, he didn’t know exactly why he left the room, where exactly he was going, until he got there. Their door was shut, the silence of slumber loud and clear, but he turned the nob anyway.

“Uh. I-,” he blanked, licking his cool lips. He stood at the foot if their bed, a surge of a dizzy daze tugging at the back of his brain. What was he doing? “I’m sorry.”

Oscar groaned at that, weak with confusion as he flipped over in his spot, struggling to locate his glasses on the dresser beside him.

Edith shuffled around in the bed, tied around in blankets, squinting through a wave of drowning drowsiness and an unlit room. “Who…? Graham, dear?” She mumbled, cocking her head.

Yes. That was his name now. Graham. “Y- yeah, yeah.” Giving the slightest of a nod, he directed his gaze to the floor.

“Who’s it…?” Oscar mumbled, face stuffed into the side of his pillow.

Too focused on Graham to answer her husband, Edith propped up her pillow and slumped back against it. “Did… did the rain wake you up?”

“Um, mhm, yes. Edith.” The name came out awkward and unfamiliar. He hoped she wouldn’t notice and get upset with him more than he guessed she already was - he’d clearly been struggling as of late not to call her by any sort title.

She motioned for him, waving him forward as she pulled the covers up to her lap. “You can come over here, sit on the bed if you like.”

Graham took a few slinking steps, shoulders hunched. Furniture was still… new. Uncomfortable. Wrong. Clenching his fist over his blanket, he sipped in a breath before neatly falling to his knees. She looked a bit dissatisfied with that, but didn’t say anything.

“Graham…? What’re you doing here?” Oscar said, finally sitting up beside his wife as he adjusted his glasses over his nose.

“The storm woke him.” Edith whispered, trailing her hand down his arm. Graham couldn’t help but let a little spike of jealousy grip him at that. “I take it you aren’t very fond of storms, are you?”

Timidly, he shook his head.

She smiled, a source of calm and peace that caved over the ache in his chest as her eyes glittered in the sliver of light from the doorway. He was inexplicably fond of her smile, but at the same time it knotted this little throb in his head. “Well, that’s just fine. If you’d feel more comfortable you can sit in here for a while, or I can bring in your mattress so you can sleep on the floor.”

It’s alright bud, you can snuggle up with me and momma. We’ll keep you safe and sound.

The pain got worse then, the little glitter in her eye was someone else’s, which of course didn’t really make any sense at all and he let his expression twist.

“Whatever you need, kid.”

Anything for you, sweetheart.

“I- just…,” Graham blinked, once, twice, head only deepening in heaviness with each. The shapes around him were fuzzing, contorting with white and he couldn’t tell why, he only knew it wasn’t supposed to do that and something was wrong-

“Woah there-!” She reached down as he smacked himself upside the head, and he jerked back from her. “Please- please don’t do that.”

“Sorry, I’m sorry-,” choking on his words and the lump winding over them, he did his best - which never did seem to be enough - to stifle a sour sob. His ears were filling with stuffed cotton, a little ringing rising from the depths. He said something next that he wouldn’t remember after, too overcome by the blinding of white. “I’m so sorry, mommy.”

“Oh, honey.” She cooed, holding her arms out for him to collapse into. He didn’t have the mind to think about what he was doing, how terribly out of place he was, and in the moment could only focus on Edith’s radiating warmth.

“Hey, there,” The couple guided him between them in the bed, Oscar pressing a hand to his back as he sniffled and cried. “Let it all out.”

Graham didn’t really understand why he was crying, what - or who - he was crying for, but the strain in his belly, the tremble of his hands, and the tense in his chest surely did.

“It’s okay, you’re okay.” She said, reassuring him, but at the same time he was so sure of the opposite.

Soon enough Edith was wiping his tears away with a soft tissue plush between her fingers, and Oscar was allowing him to rest his pounding head atop his shoulder. Slumber clawed at him and his fluttering, reddened eyes, but some part of him refused to drift off just yet, to relish in the heat of the moment.

“Doing better now?” Oscar rubbed circles into his shoulder blade, a motion that he couldn’t pry his focus from.

“Yes’r…” he mumbled, soft and faint, twiddling his thumbs in his lap.

Everything he touched had been poisoned by his dirtiness. Yet, they still touched him, allowing him to sit between them two - on their bed even - tucking their blankets up and over his tummy.

Warm. It was so warm. Not only physically, but emotionally.

The following strike of rolling thunder to come wasn’t welcomed, but no longer was he cold and alone when it happened.

——————

Masterlist

Taglist - @softvampirewhump @ivymyers @taterswhump @octopus-reactivated @tippytappytyping

@distracted-obsessions @starfields08000 @bitchaknso @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl @scoundrelwithboba

@whumped-by-glitter @whumpering-heights @arlin-always-writing @bilightningwhumper @sharkyydoesnothing

If anyone wants to be removed or added to the taglist, please let me know! :)

[d4rkpluto]

𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔯𝔬𝔩𝔬𝔤𝔶 𝔬𝔟𝔰𝔢𝔯𝔳𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫𝔰 𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔢𝔱𝔢𝔢𝔫

you can support through ko-fi or paypal! or even tip this post!

DO NOT COPY

♇ something about you chiron in 1H individuals and looking ancient and there's always something pointy about their chin or their chin just stands out.

♇ scorpio placements are very likely to have doppelganger, katy perry; who is a scorpio sun. her look a like zooey deschanel who is scorpio dominant. it is said emily blunt also looks like katy perry she doesnt have scorpio dominant or scorpio in her big six but she does have sun trine pluto.

⟶ victoria justice who is a scorpio rising and her "doppelganger" nina dobrev who is an alleged scorpio rising, both women are aquarius moons.

⟶ kiernan shipka a scorpio sun and mckenna grace who has jupiter in scorpio [don't think it's prominent] but they do have much similar appearance.

⟶ i think she was also used to play young sabrina because of their strong resemblance. ⟶ jessica chastain who is a scorpio rising and bryce dallas howard a scorpio lilith.

⟶ natalie portman who is a scorpio rising and keira knightley who is scorpio dominant.

⟶ margot robbie a scorpio moon and samara weaving who is a scorpio moon you could say emma mackey is a look a like, she's pluto dominant; jamie pressly is a look a like and an alleged scorpio rising. but jamie also has sun sextile pluto.

⟶ the eyes do a big play for these women; scorpio's opposite sign is taurus which i heard rules the eyes. ⟶ paul wesley a scorpio ascendan and kj apa a scorpio moon.

⟶ another good example is drake, if you're on social media you'll know that there's like a drake look-alike that pops out every minute. you could literally search up "drake lookalikes" and a pool of them would appear, but i think that also happens because drake's appearance is easy to imitate. ⟶ mariah the scientist a scorpio sun and mercury and brittany renner who is a pluto dom

⟶ [brittany renner right and mariah the scientist left]

♇ do not romanticise lilith in the 7h it is the trenches. you're either the insane partner or you attract the insane partner, and when you see the insanity it's ludicrous.

♇ noticed a lot of scorpio rising women have short heads, especially if they have fire placements.

♇ characters who have mars aspecting their moon will have people ATTACHED. actors of eddie munson and ser harwin strong have their moon and mars aspect each other, this causes fans to feel very connected to them and grieve very intensely over their character's deaths. along with the character joel miller from the last of us, people's reaction to his death was soooo bad.

♇ the more you use astrology to feel validated all the time the more you'll feel insecure! mostly because aside from looking within yourself, some people will use the placements of planets or asteroids to see if they're attractive, or skilled and when they dont see it they get insecure. [coming from actual conversations i used with people].

♇ i might've said this before but libra placements usually put themselves in situations they can easily get out of but choose to dwell in their sadness, specifically libra moons.

♇ aries venuses either do too much or nothing at all.

♇ aries moon with scorpio moon barely goes well, scorpio moon provokes aries moon and aries moon reacts just exactly how scorpio moon wants.

♇ moon badly aspecting venus; [specifically square and opposition, even conjunction] can cause someone to be heartbreakers, especially if they're a man.

♇ pisces in the 3h or mercury aspecting neptune [along with neptune in 3h] is an indicator of dyslexia, i looked at over 60+ natal charts and pointed it out to individuals who have those placements and majority of them said they do have trouble reading words, i myself have those placements and sometimes words jumble up for me. [this could also imply to having pisces or neptune in the 6h as 6h rules reading].

♇ people with aquarius placements are likely to always have strange interactions, someone with aqua in their big six or placements in their 11h always have a story to tell about someone strange.

♇ it has been implied that taurus beauty is more natural beauty and libra beauty is more cosmetic beauty. not insinuating that libra is all about surgery, but libra placements might be interested in make up more than taurus placements.

♇ as i have explained in the majestic virgo, i do believe those with virgo placements, 6h placements, prominent ceres specifically along with mercury dominance create the best creators, whether it is music, art, skills etc.

♇ this mostly is directed to people who have virgo or ceres in the ascendant, virgo in the big 6, first house ruler being in virgo, for example someone could be a cancer rising and have a virgo moon and that implies of their first house ruler being in virgo. ceres aspecting the ascendant or aspecting inner planets, which are ↴

⟶ sun, moon, mercury, venus and mars.

♇ i learnt that the 9H is about the next life and 5H is about your past life from the ruler ship book by rex. e bliss; it's interesting because they're both fire houses, this could insinuate that the 1H is about the current life, but im sure everyone is informed about the 1H ruling that!

⟶ someone with venus in the 1H could live a pleasant life [not all the time as there are bad sides to venus, it doesnt have to apply to everyone], and someone with pluto in their 5H could've had a very destructive and intense past life though might find themselves lucky in their next life if they have jupiter in the 9H but be aware of becoming over-indulgent.

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astrology observation masterlist

pluto's masterlist

♇

[ginnyweatherby]

I'm a bit rusty, but I wrote a story inspired by a line in Young Sheldon that bothered me more than it probably should have. I'm not sure how old Leonard Cooper was meant to be, but figure he's about eleven here, so I guess his sister could be around nine. Her name is Marie in this, since the writers apparently couldn't be bothered to give her one.

Word count: 2450. More or less.

***

“Eight… nine… ten!” Marie Cooper removed her hands from her eyes. “Ready or not, here I come!”

Sheldon smiled and shook his head as he watched his daughter run off and try to find her brother. Now that they were getting older, they didn't play together as much as they used to, but a particularly stormy day had knocked their Wi-Fi out of commission and (after 45 minutes of whining) seemed to leave them little choice but to entertain each other with a good old fashioned game of Hide-and-Seek.

He turned the page of his book, still keeping an ear out for the sound of his daughter's feet as she bounded up the stairs.  One might have thought she was a herd of wildebeest by the amount of noise she was making.

“I'm gonna get you, Leonard!" She called as she made it to the landing at the top of the stairs.

Sheldon heard the door to Leonard's bedroom open (that infernal hinge wouldn't stop squeaking no matter what they did with it), followed by Marie letting out a high-pitched squeal, and Leonard saying a word he should have been glad his mother wasn't around to hear.

“Alright, my turn,” Marie said, as Leonard started to count.

Sheldon settled back more comfortably in his seat, satisfied that the kids were staying out of trouble, and turned his attention back to his reading.

-

Just as Sheldon was about to finish his chapter and get a head start on dinner before Amy got home, Leonard raced into the living room, skidding a bit on the rug.

“Dad, Dad!” He said hurriedly, bouncing on the balls of his feet. His natural athleticism seemed to often manifest itself in the boy's inability to stand still at any given moment. “We’re eight rounds in and I'm running out of good hiding places, where should I go?”

“That closet in your room hasn't been cleaned in ages,” Sheldon said pointedly, standing from the couch and turning toward the kitchen. “I bet you could hide in there so long we'd forget what you looked like.”

Leonard scowled.

Sheldon patted his son on the head as he walked past him, making his way out of the room.

Marie's voice came into earshot. “Nine… ten!”

Leonard raced back up the stairs, apparently to take his father up on the suggestion.

-

Letting out a pained grunt as he shifted in the back of the closet, Leonard attempted to make himself somewhat comfortable in the limited space.

“Dad was right,” he muttered. “This place is a mess.”

... Not that he'd ever admit that out loud to said dad, of course.

Another shift in position, and an old Star Trek action figure started to speak its catchphrase as he accidentally sat on it. “Oh, shut up, Wesley,” he hissed, trying to stifle the sound with an old blanket.

It was unfortunately too little, too late, as he heard Marie's footsteps getting closer, before the closet door flung open. Leonard squinted as the light from his bedroom momentarily blinded him.

“There you are,” Marie said, as an avalanche of Leonard's belongings fell out of the closet, pooling at her feet. She kicked an old toy that had landed on her shoe aside. “You know, Mom tells you to clean your room all the time.”

“Don't be ridiculous,” Leonard grunted, attempting to extricate his long limbs from his cramped position. “Everyone knows cleaning your room doesn't include the closet.  If anything, it’s where you throw everything so your mom thinks you cleaned your room.”

Finally managing to get to his feet, Leonard took a step forward, only to bump his head on a shelf and cause a box to fall on him in the process.

“Dammit, ow -” Leonard rubbed the back of his head where the box had hit him. “What was that?”

Marie shrugged, pulling the box aside and taking a closer look. “No organizational keywords written on it, so Dad didn't put it here.”

“Why would Dad put something in my closet?” Leonard asked, kicking whatever had fallen out back into the closet, leaning into the door to get it to latch shut.

“Why does Dad do anything he does?” Marie asked, with a roll of her eyes.

“Well, I didn't put it there,” Leonard said. “Open it.”

Marie did as instructed, eyes wide with excitement, only for her face to fall once she viewed its contents.

“It’s just a bunch of old t-shirts,” she said disappointedly. “Probably for you to grow into or something.”

“Me?” Leonard pulled a shirt off the top, holding it out at arms length. “I wouldn’t wear this, I hate Green Lantern.”

“Who knows, maybe they’re hand-me-downs,” Marie rooted through the box, looking hopeful there might be something more exciting underneath the clothes. “Lame,” she said, falling back as she came up empty.

“Dinner’s almost ready, go wash up -” Sheldon appeared in the hallway, peeking his head into the room. “Where did you get that?” He asked, eyes locking in on the shirt Leonard still held in his hands.

“Uh, it was in my closet,” Leonard said, pointing at the box. “It fell on my head.”

Sheldon stepped into the room, rifling through the box and grumbling to himself. Leonard couldn't help but notice the tips of his ears were turning pink.

“Dad, what is it?"

Sheldon lifted the box into his arms, an odd expression on his face. “These are all my old shirts. Your mother seems to have hidden them in the one place nobody ever goes… your closet.”

“Yours?” Leonard took a closer look at the shirt, feeling it between his fingers.  It was clearly an older shirt, soft and well-cared for as all his father's clothes were, but the decal on the front faded from countless washes.

“She said I needed to start dressing like a -” Air quote. “Grown up’ once you two were born, and I knew there was no way all my clothes got lost in the move.”

“Mom hid all your shirts?” Marie asked.

“Taking pointers from your Aunt Penny, no doubt,” Sheldon muttered, taking the Green Lantern shirt from Leonard. “This was always one of my favorites, too.”

Marie seemed to have a renewed interest in the box, and stood on her tiptoes to peer back in while Sheldon still held it. “What about this one?” She pulled out a blue Batman one, and Sheldon looked at it with a nostalgic sort of smile.

“I wore that the day I asked your mother to be my girlfriend.” He placed the box on Leonard's desk, and dug through the box a bit more. “I wore this one the day we met.”

“How about this?” Marie pulled out a red shirt with The Flash logo on it.

“I wore that the first time your mother kissed me.”

“Ew,” Marie said, dropping it back into the box as if she'd been burned, her nose crinkled in disgust.

“Oh, she's never going to hear the end of this,” Sheldon said under his breath, just as the oven timer went off. “Hmm, it sounds like dinner is ready.”

He carefully folded the shirts and placed them back into the box, closing the lid and patting it fondly, as the three of them made their way back to the kitchen.

-

Amy had called earlier, claiming she was working late that night, and Sheldon knew that probably meant she was just meeting Penny after work, but he didn't mind.  He was having a nice time eating dinner with the kids, they were some of the only people whose fondness for spaghetti and hot dogs rivaled his own. It almost reminded him of the family dinners he'd had growing up, although he had to admit his children made for much more stimulating conversation than his siblings ever did.

Just as Marie was telling them about her upcoming spelling bee and how if she won (which of course she would), she'd be going to the state championship next, Leonard let out a groan.

Sheldon looked over and saw that his son had dropped a fork full of spaghetti on the front of his shirt.

“Aw man, I liked this shirt,” Leonard moaned, dabbing at the sauce stain with a napkin.

“Go change,” Sheldon instructed, pointing toward Leonard’s room. “I'll pre-treat it after dinner.”

“Dad, you don't have to-”

“Leonard, please,” Sheldon said. “I can get stains out of almost anything.  It's like a gift.”

Leonard rolled his eyes, but obeyed and stood from the table to change.

“Anyway, you were saying something about your spelling bee?” Sheldon turned his attention back to Marie.

“Leonard really can be exasperating sometimes, can't he, Dad?” Marie said sagely, shaking her head in a manner far beyond her years. “E-X-A-S-P-E-R-A-T-I-N-G.”

-

By the time Leonard returned, Sheldon and Marie had finished eating, and Sheldon was clearing their plates from the table.

“I made pie for dessert, but I was going to wait until your mother gets home,” Sheldon said, as Leonard sat back down to finish his dinner. “Although I'm not sure when she - what are you wearing?”

“What?” Leonard looked up from his plate.

“You're wearing my shirt,” Sheldon said, the dirty dishes momentarily forgotten.

“It's a nice shirt,” Leonard shrugged. “Since Mom doesn't want you to wear it anymore, I figured I could.”

“That is not at all what that means,” Sheldon argued.

“It was in my closet.”

“But it's mine,” Sheldon loved his son dearly, but there were some things a man just didn't share with his children.  T-shirts purchased at an old comic book store with Stuart's friends-and-family discount was one of them. “Plus, it's too big for you.”

“It's not that big,” Leonard said with another shrug. “Another growth spurt or two, and I'll be as tall as you.”

“A terrifying concept, really,” Sheldon muttered. “But very well.  I'll allow it.  The color does suit you.”

Leonard shook his head, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, before turning back to his - likely now-cold - spaghetti.

-

With an exhausted sigh, Amy turned the key to the front door.  It had been a long, long day. While she knew Sheldon probably figured she had met Penny for drinks after work, she really had been just that busy at the lab today. She was very much looking forward to grabbing a bite to eat, taking a scalding hot bath, and falling immediately into bed.

Pushing the door open, she expected the kids to already be in bed, and Sheldon to be watching one of his strictly after-the-kids-go-to-sleep television programs, but was surprised to see the three of them sitting around the coffee table, playing one of those complicated board games her husband (and now in turn her children) loved so much.

“Hi, Mommy!” Marie chirped, before letting out a groan as Leonard surpassed her on the board.

“Hi you,” Amy planted a kiss on the girl's head as she passed by, dropping her purse into a nearby chair. “I thought you'd be asleep already.”

“I wanted to stay up to say goodnight to you,” Marie said, sweetly.

“Yeah, right,” Leonard scoffed. “You just didn't want to go to bed."

“It's Friday,” was all Sheldon could say to defend himself against Amy's look.

“Fair enough,” she relented, and turned away to head toward the kitchen, when she stopped in her tracks.

“Where did you find that shirt?” She asked.

“Oh, this?” Sheldon said, innocently, his hand sitting gracefully on his chest, over the decal of one of his favorite The Flash shirts.  The black one.

“And that,” Amy said, pointing at the one Leonard was wearing. “And that.” She looked over and saw Marie was also wearing one - an orange one.

“Lost in the move’,” Sheldon clicked his tongue. “Really, Amy.”

“I told you I didn't get rid of them,” Amy said.

“You just hid them in my closet,” Leonard said, seeming to enjoy his parents' bickering.

“It's not as if you can ever find anything in there,” Amy crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow at her son. “If you’d cleaned it once in awhile, you might have found that box ages ago.”

Leonard's smile disappeared.

“For your information,” Amy said, falling onto the couch beside Sheldon, poking the graphic on the aforementioned shirt. “I only hid your things away when Leonard was born because you wouldn't stop freaking out and running to do laundry every time he spit up on you. It was very inconvenient to not only have to bring spare baby clothes in the diaper bag, but to bring spare husband clothes as well.”

“Leonard has been capable of controlling his intestinal distress for a number of years now,” Sheldon pointed out.

“Well, just about the time he'd figured that out, Marie was born,” Amy said with a shrug.

“And when she got older?”

“Oh, by then I just forgot,” Amy said casually, taking a handful of pretzels from the bowl they'd been snacking on while they played the board game. “And you looked so cute in your grown-up clothes, I guess it never occurred to me to look for them."

“Gross,” Leonard scoffed.

“Yeah, gross,” Marie echoed. She moved her piece on the board to avoid looking at her parents. “I win, I win!”

“Aw man,” Leonard moaned, pushing away from the table. “No fair.”

“Alright, both of you brush your teeth and up to bed,” Sheldon said.

“I'll be up in a little bit to say goodnight,” Amy added, as the kids relented and trotted up the stairs, one after the other.

Once they were out of earshot, Amy turned to her husband and danced her fingers up his arm, before fiddling with his collar. “You know… as much as I love you in your new clothes, there is something sentimental about seeing you in this one again.”

Sheldon placed his hand over hers. “I could wear both, you know.”

Amy thought for a moment. “You don't mean just wear these over your newer ones, do you?”

Sheldon didn't reply right away, confirming her suspicions that that was precisely what he'd had in mind.

“I could wear them on alternate days.”

Amy smiled. “I suppose I'd be okay with that.” She leaned in and gave him a quick kiss. “On one condition.”

“What's that?” Sheldon eyed her warily.

“Our Christmas card this year has all three of you in those matching shirts,” Amy said. “That was so cute, especially the way it came down past Marie's knees.”

Sheldon rolled his eyes, and Amy knew his mind was swimming with comments about how much he hated Christmas, and cards, and Christmas cards, but after a moment he said, “You run a hard bargain, Amy Farrah Fowler.” He stuck his hand out for her to shake. “You've got yourself a deal.”

[ladylaviniya]

The Negatives of Shooting People

Chapter 5 || MasterList || Chapter 7

Chapter Summary: You get the ultimate privilege of meeting Nicholas Tortano who grants you the ability to surprise August Walker

Chapter Warnings: 18+ Dead Dove Do Not Eat, Sexual tension, P in V intercourse, fingering, petnames, dubious consent, hate sex, rough sex, gun violence, threats with a gun, forceful handling, belittling, manipulation The reader vomits and is kissed briefly at some point. Mentions of dacryphilia, sadism.

Pairing: Kingpin!August Walker X F!reader

Word Count: .I dont honestly know but it's definitely more than 6k

Author Notes: the chapter and editing process was very rough I'm very sorry full stop my life has been in a business because I'm trying to find a new place to live and I've started going to the gym and missing out on a lot of sleep. I'm about to pass out which is why I'm posting this now. Again sorry for any mistakes granrma and otherwise

Inspiring Song: "girl with one eye " Florence and the machine. (Yes I know it's a sapphic song- I sing it like every day but let me have this pass to add it in)

08:09am Monday 19th August 2024, Robertson, Brisbane.

'What the hell is she thinking?'

Henry shook his head as he reached the complex exit and walked out onto the street to the waiting car.

He wanted to smirk but the frowning scowl would not drop from his face.

'If I was anyone else, God what I'd do to her-' his hand clenched the passenger side door handle hard and slammed loudly behind him. His eyes shut and his head tossed while the car swayed and rocked.

Jude, his driver and loyal friend smirked, “You must like this one...or is there a pile of meat up in that apartment that I need to fetch? I can call Riggan the pig farmer in the Lockyer Valley, anything left over he can throw in Wivenhoe dam.”

August sighed and chuckled, "She's alive and well. No sweet treat for Coles piggies...but...I need you and Wesley to look into the Pig she has been accompanying."

Jude smiled and leaned over, clicking the button of the glove box compartment. Inside was a yellow envelope. August's eyes fluttered before his face broke out into a grin.

"You are a fine friend Jude," he said as he plucked the envelope and spilled the printed notes out onto his lap, "Do you ever sleep? Jesus mate."

The raven hair man giggled and started the car to a silent hum.

As the driver put a hand behind Augusts car seat and reversed the car out onto the main roads he smugly said, "I take pride in investigating, especially bastards like him."

August's fingers flicked through the pages of graphic intel. With racing eyes he soaked up the words and photos. Lloyd Hansen...an absolute moron. His nose flared at what he was reading. He grit his teeth. Especially when he recognised a name in bold he hadn't thought about in at least half a decade.

"Well, well, well, he's got kittens for sale," August scoffed.

Jude hummed, "And meddles in the dogs pack, it would seem little Nicky is out of the jailhouse."

Both men smirked. But August was by no means pleased.

He was grumbling to himself. You were now sticking your toes into the deep end of the pool without floaties and he was worried he wouldn’t be able to catch you in time for the dunk.

Entering his club, sneaking in with the detective, he didn’t think you were dumb enough to think you’d distract him... He read through your charade the moment his eyes laid down on you from above walking in with that man.

His eyes and ears were turning red.

It was tricky but thankfully he had the means to warning that cop not to touch what belongs to him...however how close could he really get to that bastard without potential outlash. He knew he needed to order another grandeur meeting. While everyone was in town, it might be his only opportunity.

When August forced you to watch the murder of the embezzler, he had every hoping intention that it would persuade you to never talk to the cop again. A normal undercover pig would’ve stopped the show then and there, called back up.

But there was no back up...no...there was only sweet little innocent you and your pathetic phone camera. If Lloyd was after information he would’ve wired you up...Lloyd wasn’t there for him...he was there for some selfish reason...

When you ran off and pulled the alarm a dozen things went through his head. You were going to get yourself killed if you kept running. So he chased you. If the other men of his circle saw August Walker hunting, they would have been inclined to hunt you down too. And if they caught you...they would have done more than rip your head off.

He couldn’t tell you. He wasn’t sure how. You were already distrusting and scared of him there was no way he would be able to explain all the details and with your pure heart, you wouldn’t understand his world and why his side of the fence did such heinous things.

But...he would keep you safe. He wanted to gain your trust while not mistaking his authority...he knew what he had done was traumatizing.

He was no stranger to rape. Especially the european parties...those special events where he would join his friends like Kenny Strong and Arthur Kingsley ran the highlife of elite gentlemen and some lucky women born into those elite families. He wasn’t entirely fond of the practice. He didn’t like to beat women, but he did love to tie them up and humiliate them to tears.

Something about crying made his cock hard- no, something about you crying did...

He made you cry and he tried to bend you to his whims...he had already begun the conditioning where you would call him Daddy to gain his affection and praise. It pleased him significantly. He would shield you from those terrible memories even if it meant torturing you into talking about them. Externalising, confessing, it was all a form of therapy and he knew he had finally cracked the surface of your mind. He wouldn’t break you but he would chop at you and cut the mould. He would heal you. He would rebuild you and give you all the happiness you could ever want.

Sitting back and shoving those papers into the glove box he licked his bottom lip in thought.

When he woke up that morning, he watched you sneak out of the room. He smiled and amused himself. He watched the cameras from his phone. You were in his room...now that was very silly...he watched you choose his shirt and his shorts. He bit his lip to hold back a laugh. You looked so confident but so ...innocent...particular. He watched you grab a knife from the kitchen, he half heartedly believed you were coming back to stab him.

When your hands reached for the glass doors he launched up. He hadn’t warned you about Kal and he knew that dog could rip a man up, probably kill you easily if his fangs cause your wrist or neck.

He wanted to spank you and fuck you hard until you screamed mercy for trying to run away.

Rather he chose a simpler and easier punishment, one you essentially consented to the night before. Watching you suck cock was an interesting spectacle. There was a certainty you’d never done it before or not that many times before.

As you gagged on his cock with those big beautiful eyes of yours, he imagined all the things he’d buy for you...all the things he’d do for you... You might’ve been on your knees but something screamed at him to serve you as a slave.

Jude broke the silence eventually. He smirked, “So, am I right? You like this one?”

August smirked back, “’Like’ isn’t a word I’d be using.” He was fucking obsessed.

09:06am Monday 19th August 2023, Woolloongabba, Brisbane

You didn’t make a call. You couldn't. August broke your phone as you recalled.

You showered and scrubbed your face until you could feel the slight peel of your skin. It stung, but it was better than the sting you felt from the memory of his cum over you...in your mouth. You brushed your teeth for probably fifteen minutes just to erase the muscle memory of his cock brushing the back of your throat.

You changed out of August’s clothes and threw them into the bin. You couldn’t take off the collar and it made you feel suffocated. The kitchen scissors managed to scratch up the leather but the metal ring that encased inside was too strong.

You shook your head and felt nausea rise in your belly again. Without any food, all that came out was bile and acidic spit. You fell to your bedroom floor and started hitting the carpet, awful noises of grief and need bellies from you. You felt strangled. You huffed and spat random threats and insults, pretending he was there to hear them...he...August or your father? It didn’t matter.

You clenched your fist and smacked your head trying to regain your thoughts.

You kicked your dresser and rose from the floor. You found your bus pass and left the apartment, walking out in some jeans and a loose tshirt with a pair of running shoes.

The bus trip wasn’t a far trip to the police station.

You didn’t have the intention to report the kidnapping. No, no...now you were pissed off. You were scorned more than once by men around you. There was only one person you could trust in this world.

“Hi,” said the administration clerk, “How can we try an help today?” You fought the urge to roll your eyes, 'oh bitch if only you knew.'

“I’m after Detective Lloyd Hansen, is he here?”

You needed to confirm if the man was still alive. When you pulled the alarm, things were run or die in that moment. You hoped the man had the wit to run instead of confront the mafia or whatever this criminal group was.

The office was feeling slower today. It was filled with idle chatter and coffee machines grinding beans and a printer scanning documents.

“Do you have an appointment today?” she hummed, tapping at her keyboard.

You blinked and your teeth sneered.

You almost strangled that worker with the telephone cord. No. You didn’t have an appointment.

You just wanted to see he was alive. To tell him you were alive...and to collect your fifteen thousand promised reward for your “services”.

Your hands uncontrollably slapped on the desk cause the admin clerk to roll a little away in their office chair.

“I want to see the detective, now.”

“It’s alright Sandra...I can see her...” Lloyd said behind you. You flipped around. He was coming out of a small cubicle.

He looked...tired...shocked...relieved. it was all over how he looked with his loose tie, bags under his eyes and the clench of his hands on some paperwork.

He slowly stood to you and guided you away from the service desk. He whispered, “The white corolla...I’m about to finish shift.”

09:14am Monday 19th August 2024, Sunnybank, Brisbane.

You remembered his car well. The day he drove you home, you were so scared and confused. That day you’d reported that August may have sexually assaulted you...that day he definitely did...

This time you weren’t waiting in the cold for Lloyd, the sun was hot and beating down.

He came jogging down the front stairs of the station and hastily unlocked the car.

You wordlessly slipped in and buckled up.

When he got in he slammed his door a little too hard. He pressed his face to the top of his wheel and swore softly.

“I thought,” he swallowed nervously and sat up to look you up and down, “I thought he really had killed you. I tried calling thirty fuckin times these last two days. What happened? Were you hiding?”

Two days....god...you had been gone, missing, for that long?! Missing Friday...return Sunday.

You shook your head, “I was the one who pulled the alarm Lloyd...he knew what we were doing...he was going to kill you. When I made a run for it like everyone else in the club, he managed to track me down...he...” you trailed off unsure if you wanted to repeat the actions, the words, the confession.

Licking your lips you said, “August Walker is a dead man walking...and...” your stomach started to growl, “I’m starved, and I’m sorry to be bitchy but you...you at least owe me a meal Lloyd.”

Two days...you had only a few pieces of chicken in two days. No wonder you felt like total crap.

Lloyd didn’t argue. He took you straight away to the closest fast food drive thru. You ordered so much and Lloyd didn’t dispute a single item. He settled for a simple burger, fries and larger soft drink.

Lloyd drove you both to the kangaroo point lookout, it wasn't too far from where you already live. You stared out at the city buildings and Brisbane River with a strained sigh.

You chewed silently on a nugget for a moment before you explained what happened. How you were caught, how you almost got away...

“Jesus,” Lloyd rubbed his eyes and sighed, “I...I think I...I’m sorry I took you for granted Y/N. When I left the building I search everywhere for you. I thought...well- I didn’t know what to think.”

You munched on a handful of fries, you didn’t care if you looked like a pig as you did it. Stuffing your cheeks full of a burger and then a massive gulp of an extra large drink. You swallowed and thrived off the heart burn aching in your chest, reminding you you’ve eaten too quickly.

You burped and then softly moaned, “I need to feel safe.”

“You need to move...Y/N please,” The begging in his tone was loud and clear. There was serious fear in Lloyd.

You wouldn’t submit to August Walker and you refused to run from him. You were now met with the choice...you were either going to destroy his reputation or literally destroy him....your blood pumped loudly. He made you talk about your father....your fucking father...and on top of that, he made you call him daddy.

What mind fucked you was how you were yet again able to walk away...not unscathed but definitely alive.

“No,” you dismissed unwrapping your second burger, “He will find me...I know he will...and even if he kept me alive both times, a third is pushing my lucky, I know you understand that.”

Lloyd shook his head at you and put his hand over your burger, stopping your next starved bite, he hissed “You think staying where you are is safer? You don’t know-“

“Lloyd!” You snapped, you slapped his hand back and shoved your pointer finger into your chest, you sucked down a shakey breath, “...I know...I do know. I need to protect myself when he strikes again...it’s worse now...I have too much collateral... He let me witness that murder in the club.”

The detective raised his brows at you, “You mean...” the blood drained from his face.

“Cameras were in the VIP rooms Lloyd,” you grit your teeth and glared at the view of the city buildings, “I saw a lot more than just a fucking man’s brains being blown out from his skull, hookers, coke... Auctions...he’s got it all in The Lion Lounge.”

The detective rest his fingers on his top lip. He was slowly nodding.

You sucked down a long drag of your straw and gasped, asking in the same breath, “Lloyd I want a gun. I won’t let him rape me again.”

You needed the protection from August or any man he sent to kill you.

Lloyd chewed his bottom lip and shook his head.

“Do you have a gun license?”

“Do I look like I have one?” you snipped. You knew it wasn’t fair on him for your attitude but you didn’t have the time to focus on his hurt feelings in regards to your mental health and physical safety.

“Have you ever even shot one?”

“Nope. But it only takes one shot to kill him close up.” You threw the wrapper out of his car window and rubbed your face.

If he didn’t come near you, he would be safe, and you could just work on collecting evidence for the courts.

The detective sucked his bottom lip and shook his head, “It’s too dangerous.”

“Oh piss off!” You stomped your foot and twisted your body to face him, you grabbed his loose tie and tugged it as you seethed, “Lloyd, you practically thrust me into his arms and you have the gall to say now, me owning a gun is ‘too dangerous’?”

He gently grabbed your wrist and pulled his tie out of your fingers as he shook his head at you. His nose flared and he started to raise his voice at you, spit flying from his mouth as he hit the wheel with the palm of his hand. You expected a detective to hold a little more composure.

“Fine. Fine! But are you really willing to go to prison for life if you do manage to kill him? Think about this logically.”

His eyes were wide and his brows twisted with worry.

You fell quiet. You wanted to say yes. You wanted to stamp your foot again and scream that you’d spend two lifetimes behind bars if it meant his demise...except...was your demise worth the cost of his? Would you drown with him in the end of all of this if you killed him.

You noisily sucked at your straw.

“No...” you whispered, you didn’t want to cry in front of Lloyd but your tears were coming up, beading in the dips of your lids.

“No, that’s right,” Lloyd rubbed your shoulder with his thumb, “He isn’t worth it.”

Your lip pouted, “Why can’t you just...arrest him.”

He sighed and rubbed your back as you started to break down into pathetic frustrated sobs.

“Lawyers, laws and money,” he whispered and fluttered his eyes shut, “He has his ways. The only way we can take him down is if he is caught doing the hefty, big crimes. If I could’ve gotten the proof of the weapon dealers he would’ve been considered accomplice to the crime.”

“S-so if...if you..” you wiped you snotty nose on the back of your arm, “If he was caught on camera...he’d be sent to prison?” You started to laugh mechanically, “What if...what if I let him rape me. A nanny cam on my night stand or something?”

The office shook his head for the dozenth time, “By the law that wouldn’t be considered rape...only a messed up porno, especially if they see you set up the camera.”

Your fingers aggressively clenched another handful of fries, you didn���t eat them, you just threw them back into the bag.

“...I...what do I do Lloyd?” A fear of hopelessness tapped your brain.

He was quiet for a solid minute. He stared at you all over. You knew the bruise on your face was visible. He kept looking at your cheek instead of your eyes. And his gaze fell down to your neck. “It’s a collar Lloyd...he chained me to a bed for two days...”

His lips parted and with a impatient voice he asked, “Do you have a gym membership?”

“No? Why?”

He started his car and made you put your seat belt back on, “Okay, I don’t care, you’re getting one, right now."

Your eyes shrunk, “Why?”

Lloyd gruffly snarled, “Because I’m going to teach you how to fight.”

He would teach you at least some self defence. August might’ve been twice your size but if you could get the chance to get away...Lloyd would make sure you would take it..

05:30pm Monday 19th August 2024, East Brisbane Anytime Fitness Gym, Brisbane.

“Again.”

Your back hit the padded wall, your knees hit the floor as you cupped your middle and tried not to puke up the fast food from earlier.

“We have been at this for three hours!” You groaned, trying to use the foam wall to stand up again.

You were convinced Lloyd liked to beat you around, the red marks and bruises that were rising were the evidence.

“Until you can take me down,” Lloyd nudged you with his hand causing you to almost fall back down, “We aren’t leaving.”

You hissed angrily and stood up tall “Fuck sake.”

You held up your arms like he showed you. He started throwing his blows, you blocked him with your forearms and ducked away from his large swipes. He kicked your ankle and watched you crumble to the ground again.

“Watch your feet.” He scolded, “You are smaller and surprisingly speedy, use that to your advantage!”

You rolled your eyes and bit your lip. Getting to your feet you pushed up and launched your body at Lloyd who was checking out one of the yoga classes in the other room window.

He crashed to the floor. Your knees straddled his hips as you huffed with glee, “Ha! Home time!” your palms rested on his naked sweaty chest.

He chuckled and shook his head. He pushed you up by your hips. He shut his eyes, panting, “Again...then home time.”

You grumpily groaned, “Fine!” your ribs hurt bad and your knees felt swollen.

It was agreed by you both that if you needed to reach out you needed to use a burner phone or a payphone. Any calls or emails were going to be noticed.

When you felt the spray of the hot shower water at home, you cried. It felt good. You touched the collar still around your throat. Training to protect yourself reminded you the pain was worth it.

10:16am Wednesday 21st August 2024, Brisbane CBD

“Mr Luther, I’m so sorry for not calling in sick,” You wrung your hands in front of your boss, “Please forgive me for the unwarned absence.”

“Please!” He laughed heartedly, “I just assumed you were clicking some more photos!” He stood out from his chair and sat on his desk above you, “Did you hear about Walkers club almost burning down?”

Looking down at your lap, you reminded yourself that Mister John Luther was not a man included in the circle of trust. Nor were you convinced he understood the severity of the crimes the criminals he wanted to chase for gossiping stories committed. Your hand touched the ends of the scarf you wore, covering up the hideous black leather around your neck. You tried all morning to cut it off with a pair of scissors but you came to feel the metal circlet inside and gave up. There was a hole in one of the bottom cabinets where you had kicked in a hole...that was okay, you had an extra fifteen thousand pounds in your bank account.

You assumed Lloyd finally sent the money through.

“Did it?” you coyly asked.

“No clue how damaged the place was but the massive party was cancelled. The fire engines went zooming down this street Friday night.”

“What happens now then?” You glanced up at him and chewed the inside of your cheek, “With the smuggling case?”

“Put on hold for now,” he sighed and squeezed your shoulders, “I don’t have any sources about the next possible meet and greet. I was hoping you could keep the same production rolling. I have a new project involving a Nicholas Tortano. I want to get an interview with him.”

You didn’t recognise the name at all. Your fingers pinched at your long sleeve shirt. “An interview?”

Luther nodded, he winked and went back to his desk draw, slapping out a manilla folder.

He rubbed and clapped his hands, pushing and opening the new case to you.

“He has a history of his employed persons going missing. He has criminal history ties with Irish gangs and the italian mafia. I have a page of questions, I would like someone to ask him.”

You cleared your throat, “Me?”

Wagging his finger the elder man laughed, “No one has quite the balls as you deary...”

It sounded...Too dangerous.

“In that case,” you shuffled forward in your chair, “Can I be paid upfront for this job?”

You would not die at the hands of one gangster when you had your eyes set on another. Luther almost looked like he was going to tell you to get the fuck out of his office until he looked at your photos of August you’d taken. He was quickly reminded you had the best skills and to lose you would be suicide for his paper... You were the best thing to have happened to him. He accepted.

You sat in your work cubicle and aggressively jabbed at the key pad of your work phone. It’s not hard to find phone numbers. Nicholas Tortano had a nickname, “The Black Dog.” He was caught by paparazzi coming out of court a few times. His business empire related to charities. He was a philanthropist with a dirty history of crime connections. He had only been found guilty of third degree murder but many news articles in the past twenty years all labelled him as a omen of death, because anyone that had done him wrong was found dead not too long after...

You found the phone number and took a lucky gulp. There wasn’t an address for any business so if no one picked up, you were worried Idris might fire you for that mere disappointment alone.

The phone rung out once. You dialled again, the receiver picked up. You held your breath.

“Hello, Tortano and associates, who is calling?” the masculine tone soothed out.

“Hello, my name is Y/N Y/L/N, I’m a journalist from the local paper. Is there a chance I may be able to book an interview with Nicholas Tortano?”

There was a steady silence and a soft hum, “What does this pertain to?”

You rubbed your eyes and looked over the notes Luther had given you in the folder, “....People think he is ‘a mass murdering psycho with a thirst for crime’, I’m hoping to ask him some questions to seek the truth.”

“How ludicrous,” the man chuckled, “I am a gentleman. A businessman. Not a criminal.”

You strained over the phone as you spoke to the secretary, “I am sure but this is in regards to Mister Tortano.”

The phone went quite again, you thought maybe you’d lost the connection.

The sweet condescending waved through the sound, “I am he...are you free today for lunch?”

With widened eyes your voice caught in your throat. You felt like an idiot...you never imagined he would answer the call to his own company. CEOs never answer the call of a civilian first hand...

You cleared your throat and nervously clicked a pen, “I am, where would you like to conduct this meeting.”

You could hear him click something too. He sounded warm, and inviting on the phone, “Do you like Italian? Have you ever heard of Vapianos?”

A tiny smile touched your lips. When was the last time you were asked out to lunch? Your eyes rolled, for fuck sake, this was a job...not a date.

“I don’t mind it.”

11:54pm Wednesday 21st August 2024, Brisbane CBD, Vapianos.

Nick Tortano had invited you to a side of town with skyrise buildings. The Vapianos restaurant was on the bottom floor of some massive buildings.

You wrapped your scarf around your neck again. The leather was tight around your throat. It was like he was there with you...holding you...as you cried over a father that you loved and hated.

You shook your head and looked down at the notebook and piece of paper you were given by Luther.

You looked around at the tables and the waiters. The place was sparkling with a quality of...the wealthy and corporate. The palm leaves, the tinted glass windows that raced from floor to ceiling, the champagne glasses on a nearby table. It was all glorious decoration.

All the people there were beautiful...not a single appearance that resembled you...a pauper.

The awkward steps you took towards the receptionist resembled a weak lamb. You felt stupid for being there.

The server looked you up and down and it caused a sting to any confidence you had left. You touched your scarf.

“Hello, I’m looking for a Mister Tortano we have a meet-”

A hand glided across your back, you jumped a little and became confronted with a pair of dark brown orbs and handsome white teeth, “Hello, Miss Y/N.”

Nicholas...he was tall and wearing a simple sweater. Despite his causality he held an air of regality. Not to be overly romantic but you felt he would be a stunning prince if he was a royal member.

“I hope you don’t mind but I’ve had them set a table already.”

He held out an arm to you.

“Not at all,” You flushed and happily accepted it. You tucked it around and let him lead you carefully to a table. There was a set of plates and two wine glasses.

“Just give me a second or two to set up, is it alright if I tape your voice?” you asked reaching into your handbag.

He pulled out a chair for you and explained, “I would prefer no tapes, but I’m not adverse to photography.”

It wasn’t an unusual request. Lots of people didn’t like the sound of their voice. He must’ve been one of them.

It didn’t matter, photos were more your talents anyway.

“In that case, may I take the photos first and then perform the interview?”

He nodded and flashed a bigger beautiful smile.

“Where would you like me?”

You pulled out a office camera from your bag, you didn’t have time to go home and grab one of your ten others. You started to turn it on.

“If you could look away from the lens, relax your shoulders, lean back and look like you’re thinking. No smiling.”

“Do I look ugly with a smile?” he cheekily asked.

You couldn’t help but smile. He was charming and flirtatious and incredibly handsome.

“Terribly,” you teased, “No, my boss would just prefer a little more seriousness I believe. To make the page appear professional...plus the topic regarding the article with a smiling photo you’d look like a madman.”

He nodded promisingly and fell into the pose. When he heard the camera clicked a small smirk pulled at his lips before quickly trying to compose his face.

When the photos were finished you stuffed the camera back in your bag. He relaxed from his falsified stern appearance.

Now came the interview. You pulled out the sheet of questions Idris provided. Under no circumstances were you meant to ask anything but these....except....the questions....well...they were...

“So, you...ugh...hold on a moment....”

How many people have you killed?

What is currently the cheapest drug you can achieve from your circle?

Are you a homosexual?

What the fuck?! You weren’t even sure if you were legally allowed to ask these questions due to discrimination laws.

“Um...I...”

He smiled at you from across the table. You felt a pearl of sweat forming on your forehead.

“Stage fright?” Nick asked softly, tilting his head. He snapped his finger and a waiter came over and poured water into two cups. A basket of breadsticks were placed in the centre.

“No, well...yes...um. the questions I’m meant to ask you I stupidly didn’t read before coming here...” your cheeks felt warm. The embarrassment rose fast.

“So they’re not your questions?” his eyebrows lifted. His finger traced the lip of his glass.

“They’re my boss’s but I said I would ask them.”

Nicholas' lips parted back into a smile, “Enlighten me, I will be less offended knowing they’re not from you.”

You smoothed the paper out on the table and pulled out a notepad, clicking a pen after finding the least offensive one you licked your bottom lip and stuttered, “How...how would you describe yourself?”

He sighed and held the cup to his lips, “Vain, rich with a dominating grace.”

Those weren’t usual qualities someone described themselves as, usually people preferred to remain humble and soften their reality. It was an interesting new perception to attach to Nicholas Tortano the criminal who covered his wrong doings with funding medicine for sick children.

You noted it and looked at the page again to try and find another less offensive question. Frantically your finger scrolled down all the words. Your heart started to pick up. These were so ridiculous and disgusting. Right I go the jaws of the black dog- that’s what Luther had done to you.

You shyly laughed, “hmm, I...let me...-”

Nick slapped the cup back on the table. His smile had fallen, “Politely, Miss Y/N I don’t like my time to be wasted...how about you hand me that piece of parchment.”

He reached over with lightning speed. He pinch the paper and dragged it to him.

“Hey!-”

“Now now, here’s what we will do,” he peaked up at you and licked his bottom lip, “I’ll answer these questions and so will you.”

You lifted your chin and looked at him cautiously.

“But they’re not for me.”

“That doesn’t matter, I can see you’re nervous darling...so...let’s break tension.”

He trailed his thumb down the page and sighed, “Let’s see...ah yes I see how these would make you less inviting to involve yourself.”

After a moment he glanced and smirked at the questions, god you could throttle Luther right now for letting you go through this stupid interview.

“How many years did it take you to be where you are now as one of the most notorious crimelords?”

You tried to put on your best smile, “...yesterday...I stole this scarf...” you lied.

“Why Miss Y/N you must be a terrible influence!” He feigned a gasp of horror which made you lightly giggle, “I don’t label myself as a crime lord. As over the phone I stated simply, I’m a business man...my business so happens to involve crime. I’ve been in this business since I was thirteen years old. My first offence was Car theft. That was almost twenty years ago.”

Your throat shut. He was in his forties!? The damn bastard had the option of early 30s or maybe 20s if he shaved off his stubble entirely.

He looked between your face and your hands, “Are you going to write that down or do I have to do that too?”

You blinked and jumped with a start of noting down the new information, “Oh yes! Sorry!” Scribbling quickly you watched him, watching you...he was staring...like you were...something unusual.

“How many sentences have you been charged with?”

You shrugged unsure why you felt ashamed to say, “None.”

The pen in your hand twirled as the handsome gentleman scratched his nose, “Too many...in all up it has kept me behind bars for nine years total but I’ve been in and out for years. I only returned to the public eye a month ago.”

“Woah,” you whispered.

Nine years? A month? You didn’t have a lot of time to research him considering the call for lunch was so quick and speedy.

His fingers tapped the table softly. He shrugged, “Its not as bad as tellie makes it out to be...in fact it’s a way to network well. You can learn lots of new tricks when you’re forced into tight confinement.”

You started to take dot points. It’s interesting...being in prison for nine years...not all together but all total. Making connections and friends inside prison didn’t really click at first. You always assumed prison was a scary and lonely cell where you had to pee in front of everyone.

Nick looked back at the page and laughed, he rubbed his mouth and shook his head, “Are you a homosexual?”

You also laughed but it was more a awkward shyness, “No, I think I’m bisexual if anything but strictly gay I’m not. I can’t understand why that question would be even asked, I’m so sorry.” You grit your teeth and looked away.

He tilted his hand and shrugged, “It’s vicious rumour that I’m a pillow biter...I am not a homosexual.”

Its all he said. And that was something you really didn’t like writing down...it was so unnecessary.

“What is currently the cheapest drug you can achieve from your circle? Miss Y/N don’t tell me you sell drugs?” he giggled and folded the paper back a little.

'Jesus Christ'Luther!!!...you really wanted me to ask that!?' Your fists clenched under the table.

You dismissed it and grinned, “No, I do not. Sorry to be so boring....you?”

“Paracetamol,” he answered, “I can sell you some right now, I like to keep some nearby.”

Anyone could sell paracetamol...he deliberately said that, you knew.

“After the interview I think I might just,” you laughed and rubbed a little at your temple.

“How many people have you killed?”

You gasped. Your chest was like a loud metal band concert with your heart as the instrument racked, you didn’t understand how that was possible.

“None.” Well...your father....maybe...Nick didn’t need to know about that.

The philanthropic crime lord aka ‘businessman’ remained totally silent. Your hand paused.

“Are you not going to answer the question?...”

He put the paper down and plucked the menu, he unfolded the cardboard covered in matte black and gold designs, he looked down at the wine selection, “I think you might need to do something for me to answer that.”

“What?” you wanted to say you’d do it. But why would you promise anything to a man with his bad record.

“I’d need you to kill someone. And you don’t strike me as a murderer Miss Y/N.” His dark gaze flickered up at you, “Now...what would you like to eat?”

You bit your lip. He’s definitely killed before, or else he would’ve just said no. He wanted to you to know he was a murderer...you knew because his eyes remained perfectly still as he said it. No tremble or lying shame in those pupils.

You sat forward and drank a bit of your water.

Perhaps meeting Nick wasn’t just a benefit for the paper gossip. Maybe he could help you...you heard his voice ask you another question, probably about the menu, you do not remember...instead your thoughts tumbled out of your lips.

“....do you sell weapons Mister Tortano?”

The question caught him off guard. They weren’t on the paper your boss provided.

“Weapons?” he asked cautiously.

Shit, you had gone too far now to recall your thoughts, “Would you sell a gun to a woman even if she doesn’t have a license?”

His eyes sparkled.

“Whatever would you want a gun for Miss Y/N?” he leant back in his chair and pressed his fingers to his lips.

You tried to explain, but it was hard. You looked over your shoulder. It was too public to be discussing this. You whispered, “... There’s a rat who won’t leave me alone. I’d like to scare him...”

His eyes narrowed a little at your speech. He knew you weren’t being literal, so he replied coolly, “Are you asking for a gun or pest control?”

You whispered again, “A gun.”

He fluttered, you could tell he was staring down your shit to check for a wire.and clapped his hands loudly. The entire restaurant went from idle chatter and laughter to utter silence...it was eery...like a dream or a nightmare.

Nick shouted at the top of his lungs, echoing off the walls, “Leave us!”

The entire assembly of guests started to rise from their chairs. They packed up their brief cases and hand bags. Abandoning the half eaten food and untouched wine and champagne. Your nose wrinkled. What the fuck... they were all heading to the stair well, ignoring the elevators.

You looked back at Nicholas, confused, wondering if he meant you to leave too...you pinched the table cloth worryingly.

“Have you thought it through?” Nick asked now that the restaurant was empty, and quiet.

“What?” you didn’t understand. The entire perception of Nick Tortano was collapsing. He was so powerful...all those people were his. All of them under his thumb...all of them so obedient...

“Do you intend on threatening or killing?”

You felt trapped by his words.

“That’s my business Mister Tortano, politely speaking...” how could you confess to your intentions.

It was bad enough that he knew you wanted a gun.

You wondered if there was any chance you you make a run to the doors and run away. You were stepping from one scary man to another at this point.

After a while of sitting ashamed in silence, he stood up from his chair. His fingers lazily brushed the table, until he paused in front of you. He dragged his hand under your chin. He made you look at him, standing above you. His hand violently tore off your scarf and he tutted, “Is he the one who put the collar on you? The man to cover you in bruises? Might need a better foundation darling...I’m not stupid. I’d like to know if it’s going to reflect back on me. What’s the chaps name?”

You didn’t like how personally close he was standing above you. You felt small and trembled beneath his pinning dark brown eyes...they were practically black like some soulless shark. His white teeth looked starved.

You lied again, “...Lloyd...Ha-Han-Hansen...” perhaps Lloyd could handle Nick? But how? He couldn’t handle August. You regretted saying his name but that was it...you threw the only friend you had under the bus.

“Hmmm can’t say I know him well...”

“He’s um...a lawyer,” you lied again.

He smirked and whispered, “Is he?” his eyes narrowed with a glint of mischief.

He flipped his cardigan sweater up, on his hip, inside tucked in his jeans was a scary black gun... A hand gun.

“Well I do hope you get what you want out of him,” he pulled out the gun and set it on the table in front of you, “Here, consider it a gift...I find your disposition incredibly pleasing...”

You glanced at the gun and felt a rush of something...adrenaline? Anxiety? Arousal? Something became alive...

“I need to go. I’m so sorry,” you rushed to stand up, you pinched the weapon and carefully tucked it into your hand bag, “I need to leave.”

This was too easy. Far too coincidental. Maybe this was your father's spirit watching over you?

“Until we meet again,” he chuckled and stood aside. You could hear his wickedly laughter as you fled to the doors. As the doors closed behind you, you could see in the distance, Nick standing by the windows smelling your scarf deeply. Your hand touched your throst and felt the jagged material. You weren't sure if you wanted to go back for the scarf. Watching him press his face into the soft material- the action was perverse...he was perverse...just like August. A mighty shiver rolled up your spine. You didn’t have time to worry about that.

You were filled with all the raw emotions of the last month. Anger, grief, revenge....

You now had a gun... The power to wield death easily. Now you just needed your chance.

You kept hearing Lloyd in the back of your mind...would killing August be worth your own life?

Especially life in prison.

You shoved it back and focused on the pain you felt, the agony as you cried in his lap under threats of his spanking. He wiped you when you used the toilet...he called you puppy...he forced you to cum and cry....he made you beg and suck his cock just to hold you...he treated you as a subhuman.

02:06pm Wednesday 21st August 2024, Woolloongabba, Brisbane

You opened your front door, slamming it behind you. And as you started to slide the bolts and chains, you heard something down the hallway...a small crash? No? A grunt...

Angry eyes and a sneer grew on your face. You marched down, your father’s door was wide open.

And there the fucker was. August... Folding clothes into your father’s bed from a washing basket.

You saw red.

“Wh-what the fuck...get out!”

He lifted his head and finished folding a pair of your jeans, your head leaned back to your bedrooms opened door before you looked back at him inside your father's room.

“Your home is a mess,” He said nonchalantly, “I won’t have you stomping around in squalor.”

He had gone into your room and cleaned it. And on any given day, that would’ve earned a man a blowjob, not him though, no...he was in your space and invading your life too much.

With a flared nostril you snarled, “I am giving you five seconds to leave. Or I'll-”

He snickered at your defiant demand, “Or what? You’re going to call the cops?”

You didn’t want to kill him here...You dug into your hand bag and it felt impossibly slow and heavy in your hand. You pointer the gun at his head and fought the trembling in your body and your voice, “Or you’re going to choke on your own blood August.”

His eyes widened, he didn’t expect your display. He paused and continued to fold the laundry. You didn’t like being ignored and moved inside of your father’s room. It wouldn’t be the first time a man died in this room.

“You’re not going to shoot me,” He said without a single hint of fear.

You held the gun now in both hands. You stood strong and came closer around the bed.

You scoffed, “No, of course not, you manipulate me, drug me, hit me, and raped me but 'oh nooooo I won’t shoot you'?”

He smiled and shook his head slowly. He appeared so unafraid and that caused a spit of hate to hit your face. You wanted him to be on his knees, begging for his life, pleading for forgiveness while he pissed himself. This was not at all what you imagined, him folding the washing and sorting to find pairs of socks.

“One,” You said.

He sighed and threw your underwear back into the basket. He started to walk around the bed gradually.

You screeched, “Two, stay the fuck away from me!”

He stopped and raised his hands. Slowly he perched himself on the corner of your dad’s bed.

“Three,” you said a little shakily. He still didn’t flinch. You felt suffocated. Why wasn’t he scared?

You pissed in his lap when he pointed one at you in the club. This wasn’t fair.

Tears uncontrollably started to fall from your eyes. You didn’t want to kill him...god you hated him...but if he wasn’t going to beg you, you didn’t want to kill him. Especially in this room...besides ...what would you do with his body?

“F-four, don’t make me do this August!”

You moved closer and closer until the tip of the metal weapon pressed into his forehead.

It was now or never...“Pl-please, don’t...” you begged, hoping he would walk out of the room and apartment. You squeezed your eyes shut.

You pulled the trigger and screamed as you did it. The trigger didn’t move...it felt stuck. You pulled it again and nothing happened. You opened your eyes and noted how the gun hadn’t gone off and August was still happily breathing with a dark, sadistic grin on his moustached lips.

“Five...” he hummed and wrapped his palm around the barrel, pulling it up and tugging it away from your trembling hands, “your safety is still on, and...” He clicked off the top and sighed, “It’s not even loaded.”

You crashed to your knees and vomited right over his leather shoes. You weren’t prepared for the rush of exhaustion to hit you. Your body shook. Your fingers clenched the soaked carpet. The metal of the unloaded gun lifted your chin up. Tears ran down your cheeks beautifully.

“Tell me, did the piggy give this to you?”

Your swollen lips blubbered, “No!” Lloyd didn’t need any more wicked men following him around.

You shut your eyes and sniffled. Surely August would kill you. This must’ve been some sort of a strike three, yes?

“Then where did you get your paws on one of these?...” he bit his smile lip.

“A friend...” it wasn’t a total lie. Nick liked you, you somewhat found him intriguing. Yes you’d only met that day...but he was a friend now for a moment in your mind.

August pulled you up into his lap by your hair. Hot lips pressed into your neck and nuzzling your ratty leather collar, “You were really going to kill me...weren’t you?” he cooed as you started to sniffle and choke on your tears, “You pulled that trigger. I underestimated you sweetness...don’t worry. I won’t punish you for that.”

He cupped the back of your head, pulling you in for a big kiss. His lips soft, but his hand tight and filled with dominance.

You felt light. He was kissing you just after you vomited. Gross.

He pulled away and spat at the floor, he chuckled and pressed his nose against yours.

“In fact...I got you a gift.”

You whined and fluttered your eyes, “I don’t want a gift from you.”

You weren’t mentally prepared for any sick sexual torture he had in store for you. You could see his jaw shift and his eyes dash back and forth.

“Are you sure? I think you’ll like it.”

Your hands touched the collar hopefully. Maybe it was the key?

He slid his hands under your armpits. You heard your bag hit the dry side of the floor.

He lifted you with ease to your feet and pressed a hand at the small of your back, pushing you to the bathroom.

He was so huge compared to you. The lower ceiling made you have a flash of worry...what if he hit his head?

He was fine.

He turned on the shower and peeled away your clothes. He wasn’t rough, and he wasn’t leering...he was soft...and patient. He pushed your long sleeved shirt up and gasped at the sight of bruises Lloyd created from the gym. His thumb unkindly pressed into one. You whined and tried to step away but your ass pressed into the vanity sink.

He knew he hadn’t given you these.

“And who has my puppy been playing rough with? Don’t tell me you’ve spread your legs for someone else now...”

He turned you around slowly, inspecting the marks he had not made on your skin. His hands palmed over your flesh.

The steam from the shower began to whaf out. You tried to not imagine the water bill ticking up.

He pinched your bra off and watched your arms circle to cover your chest.

He turned you back to face him. Unbuttoning your jeans, he tugged them down and helped take off your shoes. He pressed his lips to a bruise on your outer thigh. The temptation to throw your knee into his throat was great.

His hand cupped the back of your knee. His nose was so close to your underwear covered pussy, you could feel his hot breath tickling your clit.

Your panties were gradually pulled down to your ankle and you used his shoulder for balance as you stood out of the flimsy material.

He stood back and opened the shower door for you. He left the bathroom door open and you didn’t want to risk a punishment for locking him out. He took your clothes to the laundry and heard him open your cleaning supply closet where you kept a mop and broom and vacuum cleaner.

As you soaped your body, the suds building along your skin and back you sighed. The collar rubbed against your neck. It was a reminder...

He was powerful. He was scary and you were risking death. You had just tried to kill him...at any moment he could bash your head in until your skull caved, no one would find you for days...maybe weeks...he said he wouldn’t kill you but that was before you pulled a gun on him.

You were angry at yourself...angry at Ben....why would the gun be empty?! Couldn’t Nick have told you that? Maybe he assumed you knew how to handle one...

August came back into the bathroom after ten minutes of cleaning. You didn’t dare to leave the shower in that time.

He was back. And now...he was naked. You uncontrollably worried and pressed your back into the bathroom tile. He stood into the shower, stealing the hot spray when it hit his back.

He was so hairy, and huge. He was like a bear.

You gulped and glanced at his dick. He was flaccid but you knew he could fuck you with a soft dick or just his hands alone.

He held out his hand and whispered, “The soap, please.”

Your hand shook as you shakily handed over the small white bar. It was the cheapest shit on the shelves you could find.

Now you regretted not spending the money you saw in your bank account. You would die feeling poor.

You tried to cover your nakedness. A hand between your thighs. You felt the bareness and cringed your face. He would’ve waxed you again or shaved while you were ‘in his care’ after the club incident.

The huge man started to rub the soap along his thighs and his arms and chest.

He smelt of your vomit...he cleaned it up for you...his clothes...you could hear the laundry machine.

He either was cleaning evidence or he was staying the night.

His face...was soft. He wasn’t angry...he was deep in thought... He was pleased. The faintest of smiles was on his furry face.

When he was finished. He touched your waist and pressed you to turn around him in the cubicle. Now the hot water covered your shivering skin. He rubbed some more soap into his hands and rubbed the bubbled into your skin. Along the back of your neck he rubbed and pinched. A tiny moan imminently slipped from your lips. You hoped he hadn’t heard it.

He did...

You knew he was gliding his hands down to your bottom and rubbing the darkened skin he planted when he spanked you. You hissed and softly swore as his thumb pressed in. A small threat, a warning? A reminder...

He touched you everywhere except your tits and your cunt...which shocked you as you braced from his hands every time they drew near those areas. The sense of denial played in your mind.

Your body felt warm...humming as it was teased.

He did touch the leather around your neck and tutted at the parts you damaged with scissors, where the metal you couldn’t cut poked out.

Turning the shower off, August opened the door again and guided you out onto the soft floor mat. He took a towel from the vanity draw and wrapped it over your shoulders like you were some kid at the beach.

He wrapped a towel around his waist. His body dripping and soaking into the edge.

You were poked out of the room and made to go into your room. Your dad’s door was still open however and that made you uncomfortable.

On your bed...was a box....

The gift...was an actual gift!? It was wrapped in white and gold paper with a pink tulle ribbon around it.

You shifted your towel around to wrap yourself in and looked between the man leaning on the doorway and the wrapped box on your bed.

He nodded to it. Open it. A silent command.

Your curled your lips into your mouth as you pulled the tulle ribbon away and scratched the paper back.

A deep gasp left your chest, “A phone?...”

It was one of the newest if the models you used. This type of phone usually cost three thousand dollars!

Behind you the awful man laughed softly, “For stepping on the one from the club.”

The tiny smile that was coming to your lips, disappeared. If he hadn’t reminded you of that night, you might’ve kept smiling. Your fist clenched. You were angry. Did he know how scared you were as you ran in the dark? Did he know you hated him even more because of this gift. This wasn’t a gift, this was a bribe...

Your jaw ticked and you turned on your heel, you held your towel tightly, “I am not saying thankyou.”

He chuckled at that and nodded, he tilted his head to the side and wagged a finger at you, “I swear every time I see you, you become twice as fiery.”

When he stood forward you got scared and tripped back and fell onto your bed. The phone box slid to the floor. Your heart raced. You noted how you accidentally flashed him as the towel fell from your hands.

He paused, not moving any further. He could see how frightened you were. And if you didn’t know any better...he didn’t want to scare you today.

His smile fell and he sighed, “Before I forget...your sex toy arrived.”

You crept off your bed as he left the door way. He was quickly back before you could make an escape.

He held a box and threw it to you. Without thought you let go of your towel and caught the box with the erotic images and product on it.

Stark nude and wet you stood. You turned away from him and put the box with your newly bought toy on the bed. You put your phone box beside it.

He was watching you with bird eyes as you tried to pick up the towel and cover yourself again.

“So let me see,” he hummed, he crossed his arms over his chest and clicked his tongue, “First you threaten to kill me,” he pushed away from the door, “You then attempt to actually kill me,” and he shakes his head chuckling, “and now I find out my cock isn’t enough to satisfy? Good heavens...have I neglected my greedy little puppy?”

Your hands lifted... Your towel was loose but you had tucked it to your body. You prepared your fighting stance like how Lloyd showed you.

“Get out...” you spat.

“No,” he smirked, “I will not.” He launched forward.

He grabbed your towel and you slipped from the material. You ran around his body, ripping his towel off as you ran out.

You slipped on water droplets in the hall and slid down the hall to the kitchen.

As he came around the corner, you flung a cupboard door open hard that smacked his hard in the face. You smiled hearing his painful groan.

"Fuck!"

He pushed it back and tried to grab you as you ran around the mini island. You threw his towel at his face as you made a rush back to your room. You managed to lock a chain and bolt on the bedroom door. You panicked and climbed under your pathetic single bed. You heard him behind the wood.

“Open up little puppy...or I’m gonna huff...” he said, “and then I’ll puff...”

When you made no sign of opening the door and remaining beneath the bedframe. The door burst open. The locks tore through the metal nook. He walked through. He nakedly crouched by the side of the bed and sighed at you curled up under your bed. He shook his head and softly smiled. He laid flat on the floor beside you.

“Watcha doin down there sweetness?”

You felt a breath escape you. A soft laugh. Was he fucking serious?!

“Hiding,” you mumbled into your wrists.

He fluttered his eyes shut. His hand rested on his Bare stomach.

“Well I found you, so you might as well come out. You’re black and blue. I don’t want to drag you over the carpet, don’t want rip up your knees pup.”

You couldn’t understand why he kept calling you that. You weren’t a puppy...you...you were human and you still weren’t sure how that pet name even fit you .

You knew he was right though, there was only way out and it didn’t matter. You would need to face him. If he wanted to kill you, nothing could’ve stopped him from strangling your throat. After a minute or two you finally gave in... Wiggling your butt from under the bed. He moved up to his knees. He watched you stick your head out and shimmy to the open air.

You knew trying to run out the door was useless and there was no other locks other than the front door. You rubbed your lips, staring at the broken locks and the door that hung off only one hinge...you really hated him...

His large soft hand rubbed your cheek and the back of your neck, cupping you closer to his body.

Both in your knees, he pulled you into his chest.

You pleaded softly, “Please...”

“Kiss me puppy,” he begged and looked down at your lips. You glanced to his eyes and shut yours as your pushed your face up.

He was gentle. His tongue poked Into your mouth and your lips closed. He kissed you and sucked on your bottom lip loudly. God it felt good. It felt hot and inviting. This kiss was like a deep hot bath or a cosy blanket. His hands squeezed your arms and cocooned you closer to his damp skin. You just wanted to wrap yourself in his body and sleep...except your body felt attacked by an invisible electricity, like a dozen bees rumbling down from your chest to the folds between your thighs.

Your could barely breathe.

When he pulled back he shuddered, “Are you turned on?”

You gasped, “No, why would I-”

“You’re trembling.”

“I’m scared,” your nose twitched and your gazed over his chest, feeling his cock twitch against your belly.

He chuckled and shook his head, he pressed a hard kiss against your cheek, “Merely two sides of the same coin...”

You whimpered and felt his hands smooth down your ass to your thighs. He lifted you up and pushed you onto your bed. You were at the same height now. Him kneeling on the floor with your sitting on your bed.

“You are safe, trust me,” he kissed your lips briskly, “Say it.”

“I...” you hesitated, “I am safe...and I trust you.”

His thumb pressed under your jaw, he kissed you again, “Good girl. I am not going to hurt you...truly...I promise.”

He dragged his lips down to your chest. He sucked in one of your tits. His lips smacked as he licked and sucked around your skin, you felt strange. Dirty but in a good way. Your own back curled to push into his mouth.

He pulled up after one satisfying suck, “That felt good yea?”

“S-so good,” you stuttered. Your cheeks felt warm it was like you were drunk but you knew you had a full sober conscious..

“Would you like to feel that again?” he asked, his hands ran up your thighs, spreading your knees.

You sighed as his thumb licked at your clit. You rocked your hip a little and whined. Fuck it felt good.

“Answer me puppy”

“I- oh god- I want to feel that again.”

He kissed your belly and pushed you back a little. Your head thudded against the wall. Your hands shakily grasped some pillows and put them behind your back. Your gleaming cunt glistened...that was totally you...no lube...no spit....just your arousal alone.

“Look at this pussy.” He marvelled as he pushed two fingers inside. You gasped and let out a feral moan.

“It just swallows up my fingers...do you like my fingers fucking your wet pussy?”

You whined and but your lip. When you didn’t answer, he pulled them out. He started licking them lewdly as he waited for your reply.

“I...” Your hands covered your eyes as you moaned, “I don’t know.”

“Are you turned on?” he asked you again.

“Yes,” you admitted. You just wanted his fingers back there again.

“Do you want my cock?” He purred in a soft belittling time.

“Y-yes...” you almost sobbed. God admitting it now made yourself sick. How could you admit to that? Your entire goal was to kill him. Take him down. Destroy his reputation. But here you were.

In your bedroom, crying for him to fuck you with his huge dick.

He climbed on top of you and tugged your ankles over his waist.

You felt his hard head press into your hole. His cock popped inside and his hips started the deep defend inside of you. He held your hips, lifting you up.

“Do you hate me?” he crooned, his teeth gnawed at your earlobe.

“I do,” you growled, in his ear, “fucking hate your guts.”

He laughed and groaned, “You hate my fucking guts?”

“Yes, fuck,” you gasped and scratched the back of his neck.

He was stretching you out and you drowned in his touch. You felt his cock tapping at your special spot and felt your knees clench tighter around his ribs.

“Do you want me to fuck you?” he asked despite being balls deep and jerking his hips into yours.

“Yes. Oh god,” you gargled as he decided to slam himself harder and faster. Your nails dug into his biceps. Your teeth were grit tightly. You kept swearing. It hurt and felt so good altogether.

“Who do you belong to?” he sighed, his eyes winced while your pussy clenched him tightly.

You grunted angrily, “No body.”

He punctuated with his jerking hips, “You. Belong. To. Me.”

“N-no!” You yelped, his finger curled under your collar and tugged up you neck until you were forced to put yourself up on your elbows. He slowed his speed but kept his deep entrance.

“Oh but you do puppy, you do. You already know it. You just don’t want to admit it.”

His other hand pressed against your clit and your eyes rolled a little. Your nostril flared. Fuck that was painfully good. He tugged you up by the leather strap until your nose pressed against his. His moustache tickles against your lip.

“Whose collar is around this throat?” he growlee.

You grunted, “Yours.”

“That’s right...it’s. Mine. My. Collar.”

He kissed you hard and possessively. Not once did he let the collar go. He shoved his mouth into your ear as he ground down hard inside your cunt.

“Would you fuck any other man with this collar on?”

Your hand hugged the back of his neck and scratched, “No!”

“So tell me, who do you belong to.”

Your gasped, spit flying from your mouth against his as you said it, “Y-you.”

“That’s right, good puppy. You belong to me. I own you. You are my pet. You are mine to look after...mine to protect.”

It was a mantra, a speech that planted itself into your mind as a new fact...like a new commandment that always had been yet unspoken until now.

“Say it you little bitch,” he barked.

“Yours, I’m yours,” your eyes rolled as you started to cum, your words caught in your mouth until you Released a ear piercing scream, “I belong to you!!”

You felt him cackle as you wailed through the orgasm. The pressure was like a water balloon bursting in your belly and shooting a burning pleasure through your cunt.

It took you a while to calm down. You sobbed. The pleasure was too much...you felt confused and consumed. His cock twitch and he grunted loudly before freezing. His cock moved again and you felt him pull away, his cum rushed out and dripped out of you.

You felt full and empty. It was an unusual sensation.

He was sweating, your were drenched. Leaning over your trembling body, he pressed a soft kiss to your temple and sighed, “what are you?”

“Yours,” you whined.

He chuckled and shook his head. His fingers pinched your jaw, “No, what are you to me?”

“I...” you paused and blinked lazily. Your brain was too fuzzy. “I don’t understand...I don’t know.”

Your hand wandered up to your throat. His hand was fiddling with the metal. You heard the collar pop and click. He pulled the collar away and threw it over his shoulder, “You’re my puppy.”

"And..." You voice rattled through your teeth, "And you're...daddy?"

He kissed you again and nodded, "Good girl."

HELPLINES:

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

Australian Helpline Services

UK Helpline Services

American Helpline Services

India Helpline Services.

[redpool]

Deadpool & Wolverine spoilers

You've been warned.

The suprise Wolverine cameo was Henry Fucking Cavill, I almost shit my pants when it was revealed.

Cameos from Jennifer Garner's Electra, Wesley Snipe's Blade and Channing Tatum's Gambit.

Lady Pool is infact not Ryan, but Blake.

Cowboy Pool was Matthew McConaughey.

And Nathan Fillion had a cameo too..

I tend to label every new movie I've watched as "the best movie of the year" but this, this transcends that, this is on a whole new level.

[treason-and-plot]

7.20 am

Connor is woken by his phone alarm. He shoves the phone back under his pillow and stares at Saffron, rubbing his eyes. Saffron has woken too and gives a noisy yawn, turning her head away so that Connor doesn't smell her morning breath.

"Saffron?" he says. "What happened last night? Why are you in my bed?"

"Don't you remember? We had wild sex all night and then you proposed to me at 4 am while we were skinny dipping in the pool, " says Saffron. She sticks her bottom lip out. "How could you possibly have forgotten, Connor?"

"Very funny," says Connor. "Seriously. What happened?"

"Not much," says Saffron. "After the funeral you went upstairs and passed out and then I rang my mother and she told me I had to keep an eye on you in case you threw up and choked on your vom and died. So that's why I decided to sleep in your bed. Just in case you tried to die on me."

"Your mother said that?" says Connor.

"Yeah, she's a cop," says Saffron. "She's seen some stuff. As she never tires of telling me."

Connor rolls onto his back and stares unblinking at the ceiling for a few minutes.

"Are you going to go to school?" says Saffron. "Because you look like shit."

"Yeah. I should feel a bit better after a shower," says Connor. He gets up after another couple of minutes and takes a series of long gulps from the water bottle on his bedside table then walks unsteadily in the direction of the en suite bathroom, massaging his forehead. Saffron yawns and stretches, wondering if she can be bothered going downstairs to make some breakfast. Maybe the maid will be here soon and she can make them breakfast instead! Something really yummy like bacon and scrambled eggs, and freshly brewed coffee....her reverie is interrupted by the ringing of Connor's phone. It takes her a few seconds to find it, wedged under Connor's pillow. She stares at the name on the screen: Wesley. There's only one Wesley that Saffron knows, and that's their classmate Wesley Willis, who also happens to be friends with Connor. From the bathroom Saffron can hear the sounds of gushing water. Connor would want her to take Wesley's call for him, wouldn't he? It might be important.

"Hello, Connor's phone," she says in a lilting voice.

[cinamun]

Hello lovely! as a fellow kendrick lover i was wondering what are your top 3 songs and fave album? i think mine are

wesley's theory

king kunta

pride

and for album to pimp a butterfly! duckworth is a good mention too for songs

BABE!!! You wanna talk music with me?? BABE!!! Let's smoke on top 5s. Ain't nobody safe, lets kill everybody thats outside! STOP PLAYIN I'M THAT GUY!!!

My bad okay wassup let's see

Top 3 in HEAVY rotation right now

1 - Count Me Out

2 - Swimming Pools

3 - Bitch Don't Kill My Vibe

And by 'right now' I mean like the last 2 months aside from the obvious Not Like Us.

TPAB is an absolute masterpiece, DAMN was the pulitzer (and poetically brilliant). Hard to pick.

Alright - Humble - DNA is my top 3 if we're talking over the last 10 years or so. Bro realy told us that not only are we gon be alright, but we should also sit tf down and be humble because we got royalty in our DNA. Who does that? WHO CAN DO THAT?

This mf

Love you.

[infinitepoolfinishes]