#Short Slim Newspaper Dress

[womenofwrestlingfashion]

Short Slim Newspaper Dress from Desigual (not available)

#charlotte flair #ashley fliehr #Short Slim Newspaper Dress #dress #dresses #Desigual #women of wrestling fashion #wwe

[apollyonsdarksecrets]

Alpha!Billy Hargrove X Omega!AFAB!Reader

Summary: It was hard to pretend that everything could just go back to normal once your best friend present as an Alpha and you knew you were doomed to become a Beta. But can one night change it all?

Warnings: SMUT MDNI 18 + Only. Language, talk of eating, bad mother figure, smoking depicted, friends to lovers, slight angst, crying, kissing. Omegaverse themes including: scent, heats, ruts, knotting, breeding, mating

A/N: I have never written anything like this before but I love to read Omegaverse (guilty pleasure) please don’t hate me but constructive criticism is always welcome. 🧡💜

Stranger Things Master list

*~*~*~*~*~*

Something about today as you woke up just felt wrong. The sun lit the room through your window, bathing everything in its golden rays. You blink wearily against the light, pulling your baby blue comforter around your shoulders, something deep in your gut is begging to stay, to avoid the day like it and everyone in it didn’t exist; but the yelling from down stairs won’t allow it. So with no other choice you throw the covers to the foot of your bed and shuffle to your closet.

“Well about damn time.” You amble into the kitchen, meet not only with the sour look on your mother’s face but the almost permanent ring of smoke circling her head. Ignoring her you head straight for the fridge. The hinges creak, the small bulb illuminating the nearly empty shelves as you snatch up the brown paper bag.

“Listen, Jerry is taking me out later so I’m not gonna be home, fend for yourself. ” Her scratchy voice irritates you further, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

Who? Jerry? Have I met him?

“Okay.” You glance at her briefly, bright pink curlers standing out amongst her greying hair, her attention fixed on the newspaper and Virginia Slims in her hand. The hard lines around her lips have turned her face into a scowl, and you briefly wonder when the last time you saw her smile was.

A horn blares outside in a short pattern, giving you your cue to leave. You force yourself to hurry to the door flinging your pack over your shoulder and shoving your feet into your shoes.

The late summer sun has already started baking the little town, the dew on the grass chilling your ankles as you make your way to the blue Camaro. Music rattles the windows as the driver drums to the beat on the steering wheel. You can faintly make out his head bobbing, blond curls swaying with the movement.

You pull the door open and flop in ungraciously, letting your head fall back against the leather seat with a groan. “Well good morning to you too, sunshine.” Billy laughs from beside you as he starts to reverse out of your drive way, an unlit cigarette hanging from between his lips.

“Nothin’ good about it.” You mumble, only loud enough for him to hear over his music.

He glances at you fully, focusing on the bags under your eyes, how your skin is slightly paler than usual. You’re dressed simply in an old black shirt with your favorite jeans, the jeans you almost always wear because you’ve ‘broken them in just right’.

“You feeling okay?” Billy flicks off his music as he peels off down the backroad towards school, the long way.

You let your head lull to the side, managing a small smirk at the fact that you two had unknowingly coordinated your outfits, yet again. Though he fills his shirt out more, the arms tight on his biceps just how he likes, the bottom tucked into his jeans military style. “I don’t know. I just feel… weird.” You make a face, focusing back on the road watching the green trees zip by. The leaves are starting to brown, a result of being at the highest point of summer.

Billy pulls his own face, propping his elbow on the door, he pulls the cigarette from his mouth, twirling it between his fingers. “Weird how? Like sick weird, throw up weird, period weird-.”

You groan again cutting him off, rubbing a hand over your eyes. “Just weird. I just want to go back to bed.”

“Wanna play hooky?” It’s a genuine question and you like the idea of it, a lot, but you shake your head.

“No. It’s the day before break and if they find out you’re skipping again you’ll get a detention.” Billy rolls his eyes, but doesn’t argue because he knows you’re right.

The rest of the ride is comfortably silent, letting you doze off for a few more precious moments before the engine dying startles you awake. You sit up straighter, running your fingers through your hair as you glance around, suddenly catching Billy’s unwavering stare.

“What’s that smell?”

A look of horror crosses your features, suddenly grabbing your shirt to bring to your nose. “What smell? I smell?”

“No, no, no. like… did you get a new perfume?” You shake your head slowly, watching him try to piece together in his head what it could be. “It smells good, like really good.” But he can’t put his finger on what exactly it is, so he leans closer, sniffing the air around you.

“God you’re weird.” You laugh, smushing his face with your palm as you push him away. You grab your bag as he mutters under his breath, reaching behind the seat for his own. You both step out onto the gravel parking lot, other student milling about making their way towards either the high school or the middle school next door. You start to walk off, expecting Billy to follow only to have your arm tugged back, stopping you in your tracks.

“Hey, wait.” Billy looms over you slightly, making you crane your neck to keep eye contact. You still weren’t entirely use to that new aspect. “Why don’t you come over tonight? We really haven’t hung out outside of school since…” He trails off, looking at you hopefully and you feel your muscles tighten, prepared to give an excuse.

It’s been months since Billy presented as an Alpha, months since everything between the two of you had suddenly shifted. On top of the ego and hot attitude he already possessed, people suddenly expected more of him, respected him like they hadn’t before. An Alpha in a town run by Betas.

Coming from a family of all Betas, watching your best friend become suddenly so… important made your insides tent with green jealousy. As happy as you wanted to be for him you felt yourself pull away, not wanting to stand in his shadow.

“I don’t-.”

“Look, it’s still me, Y/n. It’s still just Billy. We can grab dinner, watch movies, I’ll even do those stupid mud masks if you want just… just come over.” Please. Billy was never one to beg, but for you he made an exception. He had a soft side he kept behind mean words and cruel actions, and only you were privy to it.

Sighing you glance at the ground, analyzing the different sized rocks and tuffs of grass that managed to grow between them. The yellow dandelions turning their faces to the sky. “Okay… I’ll think about it.”

*~*~*~*~*~*

By lunch time you’ve progressively gotten worse, your body on autopilot as you move at a snails pace from class to class. Even most of your teachers have noticed, their honor student with her tired eyes, deciding to keep their questions for the rest of the class as you struggle to keep up. Currently you sit slumped over your food, your head in your hands, eyes closed and focusing on your breathing.

In your head you’re over thinking everything it could be, from the mild to the extreme. The flu to an aneurism, a common cold to a heart attack. Your paranoia latching on and prying deep. It’s only when you feel a presence creep up on you, no his presence, does something in your chest relax, letting your body shake off the unease.

“Hey, dolly.” Billy’s voice is warm and heavy when he drops into the seat beside yours, throwing an arm around your shoulders and dragging you into his side. The smell of his cologne is almost overwhelming, and it’s different, not the usual one he wears or the one you gifted him for his birthday. Pine, and leaves, and rain but something underneath that is entirely him.

“Hey.” You lean into his touch, your muscles relaxing and a soft sigh slipping past your lips. You don’t bother opening your eyes, just pressing your cheek into his chest, breathing him in.

Billy watches you, the soft lines in your face, the curve of your lips. Something in his brain demands to protect, the impulse so raw that it takes him by surprise. He tightens his grip on you, little to your notice.

“Still not feeling good?” You only shake your head in response. “Still thinking about coming over later?”

Yes.

It’s all you have been able to think about. It wasn’t like you had never spent the night with Billy before, either at his place or your own. That wasn’t what was bothering you.

You’d just never been alone with an Alpha. You’ve only meet three in Hawkins, the chief being one of them, and the other two married and mated. You’d heard the rumors that young Alphas were far more aggressive, unable to restrain themselves if their instincts took over, it was preached in every health class.

But what if he’s right? What if you’re just over reacting?

“Yeah, I’ll come over… but only if we go to Bennys tonight.”

Billy chuckles, and it’s a deep noise against your ear. “You drive a hard bargain.”

*~*~*~*~*~*

Billy had made good on his promise.

He took you straight from school to the Family Video in town, letting you pick out whatever you wanted with the promise that it wasn’t going to be sad.

Then it was on to the little five and dine, Bennys, the one that has your favorite pancakes and fruit salad. He blared the mix tape you had made months ago, despite your groaning, feeling accomplished when he caught you nodding along.

The house is empty and dark, Billy explaining that Neil had taken Max and Susan off somewhere for the week, as the two of you bring in everything from the car. He flicks on the lights as you drop onto the couch, rubbing your clammy palms against the front of your jeans.

Billy hums softly as he walks around the small living room, setting down the movies and food on the low coffee table. He glances over at you, your face pinched, lip caught between your teeth, and leg bouncing a mile a minute.

“Dolly.” Your eyes snap to his, a little wide at the curt clip of his tone. Billy stops in front of you, holding out his hand, watching as you shakily take it, pulling yourself to your feet.

“I think I should go home, really I just feel-.”

“Weird. I know.” He ducks his head slightly, searching your face with sympathetic eyes, “But we’re gonna get it figured out. I want you to go grab a shirt from my closet, get on something comfortable and come back in here.”

His expression leaves no room for argument, so you do as you’re told. His room is lit only by the small desk lamp, but you know you could find your way around in total darkness. Billy always leaves your favorite shirt in the same place in the closet, the stained grey one that reaches the middle of your thighs and hangs loosely about your frame. Leaving your jeans and shoes pooled by the foot of his bed, you steal a look at yourself in his mirror and cringe. You look as tired as you feel, shoulders slumped, ghostly complexion like you’d never seen the sun before.

You turn away with a disgruntled grunt. When you come back out the living room is dark again, the tv and kitchen light your only guide as you pad across the burnt orange carpet. You step around the couch, avoiding the gym equipment laying against the wall so as to not stub your toes like you are prone to do when you are over.

Billy’s dumped fresh popcorn into a giant blue bowl, a snack he knows you can never resist, as he meets you in the arch way. He smiles down at you as he passes the dish over and turns you back towards the couch. Throw blankets are pulled out over the cushions and the tape is already playing through the advertisements. Your meals are set up on your respective ends of the table and you feel something in your heart tighten painfully.

“See, just like old times.”

And he was right.

The night crept away filled with laughter, food, and cheesy horror movies that had you groaning more than trembling. Half way through the first one you’re both complaining about the terrible quality and laughing at the others jokes. Half way through the second you’re throwing popcorn into the air to see who can catch the most while gossiping about the latest ‘Small Town Scandal’.

By the end of the third you’re curled into Billy’s side, his long legs stretched out in front of him as you struggle to keep your eyes open. He’s warm with his arm tucked around your shoulders, and his heart beat is steady against your ear. It lulls you in and out of sleep as the credits begin to roll.

“Billy…” You whisper, poking him in the side with your finger.

“Hmm?”

“Movie’s over.”

He groans and starts to sit up, helping you with a hand on your back. “Next time I pick the movies.” You both sluggishly move to his room, crawling under the grey covers of his full sized bed.

“Told you.” He mumbles, sleep making his voice deep and gravelly. “Right as rain.” You only give a small grunt though a smile pulls at your lips as you nestle under the covers, surrendering easily to the peaceful sleep that over comes you.

For a few hours at least.

*~*~*~*~*~*

You don’t know exactly how you ended up here, but here you are, curled in on yourself on the cold tile of Billy’s ugly green bathroom going into heat.

A heat you aren’t supposed to be having.

Tears steadily stream over your pink painted cheeks as you hug the side of the bathtub, another burning cramp sending a rush of pain through every nerve in your body.

It’s as if someone has doused you gasoline and struck a match. Your body burns from the inside out with an intensity you’d never felt before, the cramps in your lower stomach hurling you into the fetal position as the continue to seize your body. But above it all was the ache between your thighs. Your sex pulsed and squeezed, fogging your thoughts through the waves of arousal soaking your panties and dripping down the sensitive skin of your inner thighs.

Why is there so much?

You desperately try to think about anything you’ve learned over the years about Omegas and their heats, but all you can focus on is the ache in your body. What good are you as a straight A student if you can’t remember a simple health class?

You groan, pitchy and breathless, trying to muffle the noise by biting into your lip. Subconsciously, you’re praying that something, anything, anyone, would save you from this hell as you sob harder, another cramp slicing through your abdomen.

“Y/n?” Billy’s voice floats through the wooden door and you freeze, even the tremors in your muscles stop momentarily. You don’t dare make a sound, don’t even breath as you wait, hoping it’s your imagination until the white door rattles under his knuckles. “Sweetheart? I’m coming in…”

Your head snaps up, eyes landing on the unlocked brass handle and you nearly slip on the small rug in your efforts to get up. A fresh wave of pain seizes your body with a whine as the door swings open.

The low amber light illuminates him against the dark hallway, his curly hair tussled from sleep, pressed down on one side. He’s only wearing those annoyingly short gym shorts, his bronze skin and large frame on display. His chest is rising and falling quickly, like he’d just ran miles to get here.

Billy had woken to that same scent from earlier pelting his senses, stronger, and all fully feminine. Lavender and vanilla and lilac but earthy and natural and purely his. It covered his sheets and comforter and filled his room. He followed it straight to the bathroom, his wolf guiding him more than himself and now he’s entranced, bewitched even as he stares down at you.

Your cheeks are wet, hair teased like you’d been pulling on it. The shirt you are wearing is soaked with cold sweat, and he can smell your slick, making his mouth water.

A deep rumbling growl escapes from his chest before he can even register it’s happening, pulling a submissive whimper from you as you drop onto the edge of the tub, staring wide eyed like a lost puppy. He takes a step closer and you flinch involuntarily, embarrassed and horrified this was all happening right here, right in front of him as your wrap your arms around your center.

“I… I need to go home, Billy.” Your voice is uneven and octaves higher, your chest constricting with each painful breath as your watery eyes drop away from his smoldering gaze. Billy couches down in front of you on the shaggy bath mat, wrapping a large palm around the back of your calf. He gives the tense muscle a firm squeeze, trying to ground you in anyway he can as you whimper and squirm, his presence worsening the pain.

This is what Alphas do to Omegas, unknowingly spur this heat into overdrive.

Billy takes a steadying breath, licking his lips, and searches your tear streaked face. “You’re in heat, little Omega…” It’s like his words amplify everything by ten and your suddenly teetering on the edge of the tub, your hands flying out for support as a wave of pain makes you cry out.

Your palms land on his chest as you finally drag your gaze to his, his blue irises hooded with that animalistic need, mirroring your own. “I don’t… understand… why?” You pant, his scent intoxicating making you lean in, unable to get enough.

Billy only shakes his head, pressing in closer, spreading your knees around his waist as his hand travels up to your thigh. “You’re presenting, it’s going to be okay.” Billy’s other hand finds your hip, and it takes every last bit of concentration you have to focus on him as your sex pulses with need, demanding attention.

“I don’t… I don’t know what to do… it hurts so bad…” Your voice breaks, shaking harshly as your hands slip up to the back of his neck, pulling him closer without a thought because he feels so good, so right against your skin as his width presses your thighs farther apart. Billy doesn’t stop you either, his eyes fluttering at the feeling of your fingers tangling into the hair at the back of his neck. Your scent is over powering at this proximity, his grip tightening on your body to control himself.

He coos lightly, his eyes dropping to your lips, specifically your plump lower one now darkening as a bruise forms in the shape of your teeth. “I know baby, I’m here, I’m going to help you.”

“How?” You croak, the uncertainty in your voice stabbing Billy in the chest.

“You trust me right?” He drops his voice to a whisper, his body flush with your own, hands slowly skimming up your body to rest against your neck. You swallow thickly, before nodding. Billy leans forward, closing off that last little bit of distance with a testing kiss.

Need shoots through you, stronger that ever and you respond hungrily. Your arms slip fully around his neck, sliding off of the tub with a desperate moan. Instinct takes over, your submissiveness showing as you open yourself to him, Billy’s tongue licking into your mouth as the kiss turns more wild.

Billy stands, holding you easily with two large hands cupping your ass, as he turns heading for the door. Your legs wrap around his waist, humming into the kiss as he bumps into a wall, his steps uneven as he makes his way into his bedroom.

You gasp for breath as he lowers you both onto the bed, his weight warm and welcoming. “Pretty Omega, my sweet girl.” His lips tickle your ear as he leans in, his hands fisting the blankets by your head as he starts to leave the bed. You whine loudly, your legs locking around his hips forcefully. Billy chuckles, a deep sound that makes your back bow up. “Gotta let go, let me up honey.”

“Please…” You beg, “Don’t leave me, Alpha.” It is the first time you have ever used his new title, his pounding heart going into double time. He shifts his weight, cupping your face with one hand, as your squirm. You desperately try to rut your hips against his, the feeling of having him so close but not close enough making your chest constrict and your head spin.

Somewhere in the back of your lust addled brain you knows you should be embarrassed, your desperation turning you into someone you’re not. But the new beast prowling under your skin refuses to let that happen. She knows just what she wants and will have it.

“I’m right here baby, but you’ve got to let me help you. You can do that, can’t you?” Billy’s words are laced with a calming purr, thumb swiping carefully over your lips, catching on the bottom one and pulling it down slightly. Only when you nod, your limbs relaxing around him, does he let it go with a soft plop. “Good girl.”

He doesn’t bother with formalities, instead gripping the collar of the old t-shirt in both hands and tugging. He rips the worn material down the center, making you yelp in surprise. He’s more forgiving with your panties, fingers dipping below the elastic as he tugs them down your legs. The pale purple cotton is drenched with your slick, turning the color a dark shade that makes him moan at the sight. Billy tosses them over his shoulder carelessly, fixing his attention on your trembling body laid out before him.

“You’re so wet, just fucking drenched.” You jump and moan as he swipes a finger through your puffy lips, watching as your cunt squeezes around air. He wasn’t lying when he said you were drenched, your slick glistening off of your thighs, slipping down the curve of your ass to his bedsheets. The sight alone is enough to have him throbbing painfully in the confines of his shorts.

He can’t help himself as he starts to play with your pussy, barely dipping his long fingers between your lips before dragging them up to your clit. He circles the bud slowly, watching in awe as you respond so eagerly, head thrown back loud moans filling the space around you. You cry an abundance of pleas, his name mixed with any other words you can manage to string together. Your hips rock to take his fingers deeper each time he circles your opening, face scrunched with a mixture of pleasure and pain.

Finally pulling himself away from your body, Billy nearly shreds his shorts in his haste to get rid of them. His cock springs free with a groan, his eyes squeezing shut momentarily as his head drops back. It’s pulsing and uncomfortably hard, beads of milky precum roll down his thick shaft, catching in the corse blond hair at the base.

“Look at me, Omega.” His demand washes over you, compelling you the only way and Alpha can, to do as your told. You lift your head, dazed eyes settling on his handsome face. His kiss swollen lips are parted slightly, eyes wild with need as his gaze consumes you. You never felt more exposed and yet safe at the same time.

Then your eyes flicker lower.

You let loss a wavering moan, fingers curling into the covers as you openly stare. Billy smiles, enjoying the way you follow his hand as he wraps it around himself, pumping his shaft slowly. He’s big, bigger than you would of imagined him to be. His fingers barely wrapping around his girth and if you want to be honest with yourself it’s intimidating.

“Billy… I’ve never…” He climbs onto the bed between your thighs, rough hands slipping down your skin, squeezing the supple fat under his fingertips.

“It’s okay, let me take care of you.” Billy leans down, capturing your lips in a slow, distracting kiss. Your eyes fall shut, arms slipping around his shoulders as he slowly aligned himself with your entrance. He presses forward and you gasp against his lips. The thick mushroom head squeezes in with a soft pop, breaching your walls and already making you feel so full and empty all at once.

Billy’s hand makes it’s way down to your thigh, lifting your leg and spreading you open as he drives his hips forward. He moans loudly, pressing his forehead against yours as he stills, a little under halfway inside you. “Takin’ me-fuck- you’re takin’ me so well.”

Your nails are digging into his skin, leaving big red lines in their wake as you try to hold onto something. You’d feel bad under normal circumstances if it didn’t seem like he was enjoying it so much. Billy’s lips find your neck, nuzzling the underside of your jaw, and trailing down to your shoulder. He’s breathing you in between sloppy kisses, your scent somehow sweeter than before.

“Please… please Billy.” Your leg hooks around his hips to encourage him to move and with one finally thrust he bottoms out into your spasming cunt. Your head presses back into the mattress, a low moan rattling out of your chest as the feeling of it all washes over you. You’re stuffed full, his weight bearing down on you, but for the first time in hours you feel a sense of calm settle into your bones. You were made for him, made just for this.

Billy lifts his head, your eyes catching in the dim light, and he gives you a lopsided smile. He pulls nearly completely out before filling you up again. You cry out his name, voice cracking on the syllables.

“That’s right baby, just like that.” Your walls flutter around his cock, his thrusts evening out as he finds his pace. Your hips rock to meet his, soft noises falling from your lips to accompany the harsh moans leaving him. The head of his cock is kissing your cervix, bringing in an entirely different kind of pain with the pleasure.

“Alpha… please… gonna cum!” Your fingers find his hair, tugging harshly as your body shakes harder. Billy slips his hand between your bodies, rubbing tight circles against your throbbing clit. You scream as your orgasm washes over your body so quickly it leaves you dizzy, your release gushing and coating his cock.

“Fuuuuck.” He squeezes his eyes shut, teeth bared as he fucks you through it. Your cunt trying to milk his own from him as he picks up his pace. You sob loudly, tears rolling down your temples as your hands slip to his sides, urging him not to stop.

“Please… Alpha… I uhh-.”

He slams into you, the sound of skin against skin filling the room. “You’re so pretty on my cock, I just want to keep you here. Fuck your like this for the rest of my life.” His hand skims up to your abdomen, he presses down ever so slightly and you gasp, hips bucking at the sudden pressure. “This pussy was made just for that wasn’t it? Made just for me.”

Billy pulls out at a maddeningly slow drag, your cunt fighting to keep him in as he rubs along every right spot, making pleasure bloom at the base of your spine and radiate outwards. Only the tip of his cock rests between your folds, anticipation and excitement humming adding to the trembling of your limbs.

“Tell me baby.” Billy mumbles, cupping the back of your neck, squeezing and lifting you up from the mattress slightly. Your eyes lazily slide open, a languid smile spreading across your face that makes him falter. His heart suddenly beats impossibly faster, all of his thoughts flying from his brain except one.

This girl is mine.

“S-so good, ba-baby… d-don’t stop.” You stutter out between chattering teeth, hips rocking up taking him a few centimeters deeper.

Billy growls lowly pushing in all the way before pulling back out, he falls forward, bending you nearly in half as he cages you in. His mouth finds yours, sloppy and clashing teeth as his hips piston against yours, driving himself impossibly deeper as you cry and moan for him.

“You feel so fucking good,” He pants, lips skimming along your cheek, past your slack jaw and to your throat, nuzzling the delicate area where he can see your pulse pounding. “Always knew you’d feel this good.”

“B-Billy… Billy I’m gonna…” With each thrust your orgasm draws closer, pushing you to the limits of your pleasure, head tossed back and toes curling as you cling to him. Your cunt squeezes around him, pulsing rhythmically, letting him know you’re close.

“I’m gonna come Y/n, I’m gonna fuck you full of me and you’re going to take it all, are you? Gonna let me breed you, baby?” Billy isn’t graced with a reply, instead your body draws taught against his as you scream his name. Your orgasm rushes over you, washing any sense from your brain as your hips buck against his, and it’s his undoing.

Billy bottoms out, rope after rope of thick cum spilling into your spasming pussy, his knot swelling and locking you in place as he ruts into you. You can feel each pulse, and twitch, his spend filling you and sedating that insatiable need for the time being. Your body relaxes into his, that smile never leaving your lips.

“My Omega.” He whispers against your skin, teeth dragging and scratching your skin as he fights himself, his wolf demanding to lay its claim. “I need you.” He breaths, sinking his teeth into your flesh.

*~*~*~*~*~*

By the time morning seeps in through the blinds, neither of you have slept. Currently your laid out on his chest, the sheet draped over your backside as his seed fills your cunt. Billy’s hand is imbedded in your hair, the other on your hip, gripping you to him as he moans into the air.

It takes several minutes, and by the time his grip slackens there’s a small bulge in your abdomen. You’re blinking lazily, the haze of the night slowly clearing itself from your mind. “Billy?”

“Yes, baby?” His heart beat is evening out, the rhythmic thump seeping into your body.

You swallow, lifting your head and resting your chin on his chest. His eyes are closed, head tilted back relaxed against the pillows. His palm rubs up and down your side, gentle and calm.

Sometime during the night, between lust filled spurts of need, you had felt the mark. Your fingers had traced over the raised indents his teeth had left, several times. The realization that you were mated to your best friend hitting you like a crushing pile of bricks, and yet…

“We’re mated.” You whisper, feeling his chest stutter slightly. He clears his throat, the hand in your hair twitching slightly.

“I should of asked you. I’m sorry.” His voice holds a note of something you can’t place, his eyes are still closed, refusing to look at you. You sit up slowly, his knot still firmly in place, moaning a little at the feeling. That grabs his attention. Billy’s gaze snags on your face, where he finds your softly smile and gentle eyes.

“There are worse people to be mated with, I suppose.” Billy smiles, his hands resting on your hips, his grip firm and comforting.

“Definitely, could of been Danny.” You shudder at the thought of Billy’s little minion of a friend and he laughs loudly. “Come’er.” You happily oblige, kissing him slowly, pouring yourself into him as he does the same. Everything falling into the perfect rhythm.

There are definitely worse ways to find your forever.

#smut #apollyonsdarksecrets #stranger things smut #billy stranger things #billy hargrove #billy hargove x reader #billy hargrove x f!reader #billy hargrove smut #alpha!billy hargrove x omega!reader #omegaverse #alpha x omega

[igotanidea]

Beneath: Jason Todd x fem!reader

request/summary: @jasontoddsthickbabe asked me for a story: Jason doesn’t think he worthy of love until he meets y/n and she also thinks the same bc she’s a thick and chubby girl. Sorry it took me so long, hope you'll enjoy. I took liberty of making Jason and Y/N friends (of some sort :) )

Warning: insecurites, description of body type (no hate here!), cussing and Jason being a walkign warning, oh and angst with happy ending.

I recommend listening to "Beneath you're beautiful" by Labrinth and Emeli Sande while reading.

REMEMBER YOU ARE ALL BEAUTIFUL THE WAY YOU ARE!

Looking in the mirror was painful. Sometimes. Often. Usually.

At first glance everything was all right with her. She had two eyes (one of the very few attributes she liked about herself), a nose, two ears and a mouth.

Yes. That was good.

But then.

Everything below the neck was just…. big. Her breast, her belly, her legs and hips. Her butt. All outsized no matter how much she was trying to hide it or fight it. It was good during winter months were she was wearing sweaters and coats, but she dread every spring and summer, wishing for it to end instead of enjoying the warmth and joy. Going out with friends, especially her girlfriends who were always dressed in tiny sundresses with their perfect lean legs exposed and their perfect, slim bodies brought out by the clothes was  literal torture.  She never found enough courage to wear anything shorter than ankle-length. Shorts? Mini dress? Nope. Never. Forget it.

And it did not make her feel good. At all.

It was like that for a long, long time. She was working in the newspaper, covering the matter of technology news, but in such workplace she was always watching her perfect, pretty, slender female coworkers, smiling and charming and being chased and adored by bunches and bunches of men. Too often she found bouquets of flowers on their desks, leaving all the girls wondering who was the secret admirer. It never happened to her and as much as she was trying to cover it and suck it up it was slowly killing her inside.

“Hey, Y/N, don’t stress about it. Your day will come.”

“Mhm. Sure it will” she flashed a smile, but her inside just clenched. It would never happen. No one will love her while she looked like that – chubby.  So how could she even hope for being the object of someone’s love when everywhere she turned, in magazines, workplace, photos, all the girls were just … skinny. Even in her beloved books the heroines were always tiny, petite, fragile and delicate. God!

At some point she just couldn’t take it any longer and started to avoid integrations and meetings that became too painful. But of course, her boss noticed that and made her join, using the most cliché arguments about coworkers bonding and being a part of the team. Sure, she was a valuable and competent and needed as a coworker. Not so much as a girl or woman. To anyone.  But she came to this evening party, once again observing the happy couples flirting and teasing and holding each other, dancing and just being there together.

“I’m gonna be sick” she thought to herself “I’m gonna be sick if I don’t leave right now.” Suddenly, the feeling of being fat, ugly, unattractive and pathetic came running and she had to hold back the tears. She wanted to be in her apartment, in her own bed, with some TV show on, feeling safe and warm and not exposed and judged on the way she looked like. Even if it was barely 9 p.m. Without any word of explanation to anyone she just busted out the door onto the street, not really looking where …..

“HEY! Watch where you going!” clearly angered man on the motorcycle harshly applied the brakes in front of her. The tires  screeched and he barely managed to stop before crashing into her.  “Are you trying to get yourself killed!?” he yelled taking the helmet of showing his rant and raving eyes and disheveled black hair with a single white strand on the front.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” she yelled back at him “I’m so sorry this fucking of a Gotham city sucks! I’m freaking sorry that you were speeding without any thought of pedestrians in that pretty head of yours!”

“Pretty, huh?” the man on the bike looked at the raging girl in front of him raising an eyebrow at her choice of words, but she couldn’t care less.

“Besides!” she continued “It’s not like you couldn’t see me! I take quite a lot of place! I bet you would act all nice and charming if I was pretty, slim and model-like! Isn’t that what all the boys are about?! A hot girl?! Especially the Waynes!”

“Auch, Y/N. That really did hurt!”  Jason put a hand on his heart in pretended pain “you are truly breaking my heart.”

Y/N and Jason met by some crazy accident. Not like the one with the motorbike. A year ago, she found herself doing some journalist work on the tech the criminals in Gotham were using and that was how she ended up working with his detective brother Dick. Long hours at the office swiftly shifted into friendship and soon she met his entire family since Grayson really lived up to his opinion as “a family man.” Alfred and Tom loved her from the very second she stepped into the manor. Damian accepted her without any questions which meant a world in his case. Bruce never complained and never engaged which was pretty much and indication of the same. The only rocky relationship she had was with Jason. They were just a bit too similar in too many cases and that was why their relationship was more of a teasing one than rainbow an roses. But on the other side, they would jump into the fire for each other.

Soon enough, due to her nosiness and insight she figured out all of their secret identities as bats and everyone though she would be in grave danger and tried their best to keep her out of trouble. A month later she kicked the ass of some assaulters who came at her when she was walking home late and from that moment she was never again seen as little, naïve and harmless.   (What? I know how to use my assets - she said, obviously referring to her figure. Yes, sometimes it was useful, but not tonight. Tonight she had enough and Jason Todd with his snarky attitude was the last thing she needed.) 

“SHUT UP, Jason! I’m done with all the man in this fucking city! I’m done with all the man in the planet and shit, in the entire universe! You only judge with your eyes. Nothing more matters to you…..” her anger was finally out and the last words were barely audible as all the pent up energy deflated “I’m sorry. I was out of line. You were right I should have watched were I was going.” She looked down apologetically.

“Bad day?” he smiled lightly looking at the girl in front of him, leaning on the handlebars and observing her closer.  Maybe it was because of all the emotions she just let out but it sparked something in him. Apparently, she had similar anger issues as he did. Besides she was pretty. She had big, honest, glistening eyes, red lips, flushed cheeks and thick messy hair. And she looked so small and vulnerable even if she really was a bit bigger than the girls he was usually into.

“Just regular one.”

“You step in front of motorcycles on your regular days. I don’t think you will get to hate Gotham for long when it turns out deadly for you.”

“Haha. Very funny, Todd. Anyway, have a safe drive home. Try not to  drive into anyone of anything.” She turned on her heel ready to walk away but he stepped in front of her stopping her “get out of my way.”

“Believe me, I want to, but as much as I hate Bruce, he taught me to respect woman. So, all those fucking lesson force me to ask, ugh, are you all right?”

“Guilt calling much?” she tilted her head looking up at him. Shit, she was so cute.

“Not at all. You practically admitted it was your fault. “ her eyes grew wide at his scoffing words “I would hate to add the job to the vigilantes in this freaking city if you pass out on the street.”

“Nightwing? I heard he was out of town.”

“You know he is not the only one.” He hissed clenching his teeth. Of course every girl in this freaking city was dreaming about his older brother.

“Oh, you meant Robin. Like the Red Robin? He seems like a nice guy wouldn’t mind meeting him, even in some radical circumstances.

“You really do have a death wish, don’t you little one?”

“Little one?” she mocked “have you seen me? I’m ….. you know what, never mind. Like I said, have a safe trip to the Wayne Manor. Say hi to your father for me and remember to mention that his newest technology have a flaw. I give it a week, tops, before it goes to shit.”

“Wait! Y/N! ”

“See you around, Jace!"

*** A week later, all the press in Gotham was writing about the failure at Wayne Enterprises and Bruce alongside with Tim had to do some damage control and PR action. One of them involved a meeting with the journalists and surprisingly, Jason tagged along.

“Why on Earth are you interested in Wayne Enterprises matters now?” Tim looked at him suspiciously

“Interested? Oh, hell no! I just want to see you two making fools out of yourself and try to explain it all. This will be a load of fun.”

“I hate you, Todd.”

“Sure. I’ll remember it next time you need my help in saving your ass during mission."

The truth was, something was telling him his favorite hysterical girl would be on the meeting and even if he wouldn’t admit it to anyone (himself included) he really wished to see her.

***

“Mr. Wayne! Mr. Wayne! Here! How would you describe what happened in the enterprises? Was there anyone who got hurt? Is Gotham in danger?” the journalist were screaming and flashing photos, but Bruce had his signature stone cold look on. Slowly, all the press got intimidated and quieted.

“This was a controlled trial. A standard procedure to assess the possible damage of our new product….” Bruce started to explain

“Controlled trial, my ass.” Jason scoffed behind the curtain “She was right, as usual.”

“As usual, hm?” she appeared out of nowhere, sneaking behind his back and startling him

“FUCK! Y/N!”

“Hello, Todd.”

“How the fuck did you get here?!”

 “Golden pass. Courtesy of your father. Guess he got a bit worried my words to be published would harm him and his company.” She smirked

“Worried. Bruce Wayne. Worried about you? You overestimate yourself, honey.”

“You underestimate me Jason. At least when it comes to my mind. “

“What are you…..?”

“Nothing. Forget it. I got job to do, so if you excuse me…. “ she winked and joined the once again screaming press “Mr.Wayne! Mr.Wayne!” she turned around and smirked at him once again with that irony in her eyes before disappearing for good. Her wider hips and bottom worked quite well in making some space for her.

It was this exact moment, Jason’s heart skipped a bit watching her indulge in the work with all her enthusiasm and sarcastic attitude. Fuck. He was in deep shit.

***

To say the truth, his reactions at the press conference scared him beyond recognition. He didn’t want to fall for her. It was not planned and definitely not wanted. So he did the only thing he knew how to. He cut all the contact with her. Stupid, freaking idiot. But that was all he knew how to do. Besides, it wasn’t like she was trying to reach to him. Running away from the emotions was the only option for him. A safe one.  So he iced her. For three weeks. He was leaving every single time she came visit boys at the manor. He took a detour from his favorite places to avoid passing her work and accidental meeting. He stopped buying coffee at his preferable café, instead threatening Tim to grab one for him wherever he was going there. Everyone knew something was off.

“You are a coward, Jason, you do know that?” Dick said to him one time

“What did you just say to me?!”

“You. Are. A. Coward.” His older brother punctuated every single word like it was a separate sentence.

“I have no fucking idea what you are talking about!”

“Sure, you don’t.” Dick shrugged “I’ll leave you to it then. Won’t give you any hints in the matter. With your thick thinking it might take you ages though. ”

“GRAYSON!”

“What? I said nothing wrong and I stand by this. By the way, do you have a date to the gala next week?”

“No.” Jason scoffed “First of all I’m not going and even if I did I would just go solo.”

“Hm.”

“What now?”

“Jason Peter Todd.” Ladies and gentlemen Bruce Wayne blessed us with his presence.

“Oh, fuck no!”

“You are going to attend the gala next week. This is not a matter of yes or no. This is an order. “

“I’m not taking any orders from you, Bruce!”

“I’m not asking you to take it. I’m commanding you to attend the gala.”

“Screw you all! You can’t make me…..”

***

They made him.

***

At least he bargained this much that he could go alone. No date. No girl on his arm. He thought it would be so much easier this way. But now, as he was watching Dick and Barbara swaying on the floor some sting of pain shot through his heart.

He missed her.

Fuck.

He didn’t need that. He didn’t want that. A month without her should have done the work but it was only worse and worse. This party was a disaster for him even before it started but slowly it was becoming  a living nightmare. He started to sweat underneath that freaking suit he was wearing and decided it was the best if he just disappear.

And then he saw her.

The most cliché moment ever, recreation od the every freaking rom-com he knew (which was not many) and it made him feel like an complete idiot when he just froze, rooted to the spot not able to look anywhere but on her. She was so freaking beautiful in the simple, classic dress that stressed her figure. So freaking beautiful his heart started racing uncontrollably.

“Stop staring at me. I know I look like a freaking sausage.” She muttered passing him and heading straight towards the drinks, ready to numb all the feelings.

“Sausage?”

“Yes, Todd. Sausage. I don’t …..” she sighed pulling at her hair nervously “I don’t look like all those girls here…. I am not like Barbara or all those elegant females.”

“You look beautiful” he blurted and instantly regretted that when she looked at him with pain in her eyes.

“Stop making fun out of me.”

“I am not…..”

“Do you have any idea how much time it took me to find a dress that would fit me?” single tear fell from her eyes and he clenched his fists to stop himself from wiping it away “what torture it is looking for any clothes, really? The sizes ends at some crazy small numbers and…..” a ragged breath escaped her

“Y/N….” his heart was breaking with her every word.

“I’m sorry. I’m being boring.” She quickly regained herself “How is your evening, Mr. Todd? How is this possible that you are here all alone? Don’t you know all the single ladies here are eyeing you like you are a prey?”

“If only they knew they are after Red Hood.” He smirked

“Are you crazy? Stop mentioning your alter ego!”

“No one’s listening either way and …..” before he could finish the sentence gunshots came from outside. “Shit!”

“Perfect timing, Jason. Perfect timing.”

“Will you just shut up! I need to get you to safety and take care of whatever scumbag decided to destroy this freaking party!” he grabbed her wrist and pulled her away from the windows that just blew off.

“Go!” she pushed him towards the exit  instead “Go! I’ll be fine, I know how to take care of myself. Not my first rodeo” she smirked “Go help your brothers.”

“Promise me, you’ll be safe.” He grabbed her waist and looked straight into her eyes.

“I will. “ she spoke calmly “I promise. Now go!” he took off running but stopped when she called back at him “Jay!?”

“Yeah?”

“I know you are internally happy that this party was crashed!”

“Cut the internally part and you’re just about right!” he laughed and moved to the eye of the fight.

***

“Is everyone ok?” when the threat was taken care of and she was sure the bats were back at the cave she came running straight to the tunnels under the manor.

“We’re good.” Dick smiled despite the bruise on his face “That was not even the worst event I’ve been to.”

“ I bet. What was this all about?”

“Some big fish at the party and some debts from what I put together in the short amount of time I had. And no.”

“What?” she frowned acting all innocent even if she knew what was on Dick's mind.

“You are not going to investigate it further.”

“Of course I will.”

“I forbid you.”

“I don’t take orders from you.”

“You and Jason are so alike at times.” Dick sighed deeply

“Are we? Really? And by the way, where is everyone? Why are you alone?"

"Bruce is taking care of Tim and Damian….”

“You mean he’s scoffing them?” she knew what Batman care meant.

“Yeah, not the first not the last time. They’ll be good. And Jace….. Jace is on the rooftop. He’s fine too. If you want to know.”

“That’s worth noting.”

“Y/N?”

“What?”

“Go talk to him.”

“Orders again?”

“Nope. Just a suggestion. I have quite the observational skills, you know. You two should talk.”

“I don’t see the reason why. But if I were to take a walk now….”

“then I would have no idea where you went.”

“All things considered  I think I could use some fresh air. After all, I’ve been through a traumatic events. Gunshots!”

“Good luck finding fresh air in Gotham!”

“I’ll take my chances. And…. Dick? Thank you.”

***

“Jason?” no reaction from the silhouette sitting on the roof watching the stars. “Jason!” now he heard her and turned around.

“Please go away, Y/N.”

“Why? What’s wrong? Come one, we are friends , I guess? All this teasing and fighting is just for fun, right? You are not mad at me or anything?”

“Mad at you? Damn it Y/N. How could you even think so?”

“You went radio silence for quite some time. What was I supposed to think?” she moved forward and sat down next to him making him jump away instantly almost like her presence was toxic.

“I’m … I don’t bite you know.” she joked but her voice was so, so sad at his action.

“Please, go away. I don’t want you to see me like this.”

“Like what?” she shifted her position to face him “Like what, Jay? I’ve patched you up multiple times. I’ve seen you cut, bleeding , bruised. I know all the scars on your chest and abs and face. What is there that you don’t want me to see?”

“That is fucking it!” he yelled and stood up, the lights from the manor illuminating the blood on his face and some swelling.  “You said we are friends and I don’t want to be friends!”

“Oh… ok. I get it. I really do. I mean, how could you ever want to be friends with someone like…. like me.  The chubby one. I’m not really anyone’s type. Even as a friend. It’s understandable. I’ll… I’ll just go and leave you. I bet some pretty girl will give you all her attention.” She lifted herself ready to walk away from his life and it terrified him. He couldn’t lost her again.

“NO!” he yelled in frustration

“YES! NO! STAY! GO! What the hell is your problem Jason!?” oh, he pushed her. “I’m done! I’m tired! You keep playing with my mind! I know I’m not worthy of anyone’s love all right! Thanks for the reminder! I’m not,….. right! My body is not right!”

“SHUT UP! JUST SHUT UP!” with one stride he was next to her, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her to his chest. “Just shut the fuck up!” he whispered against her hair feeling her tense “can’t you see? Can’t you see how I feel about you?”

“Jace? I don’t …..” she tried to pull away and look at him but he didn’t let her afraid that her eyes would make him halt the confession he was making.

“You keep talking about your body and how you don’t think you are worth loving because of it. I get that feeling. I fucking get that feeling. You keep repeating that all the ladies want me, but all I see are eyes on Dick. He’s freaking perfect. Mister Grayson.” He hissed and she was now truly afraid to move a single muscle “As for me? All those scars? I think I am monster. If you think you are not worthy of love then…. Than what can I say?”

“Stop it! Stop it immediately!” finally she freed herself from his hands “You are an imbecile! You are not your scars! You are not the way you look! You are …. You. The smart, handsome boy. The nerd. The literature lover. I see nothing more than that.”

“How can you be such a hypocrite? You praise me and hate yourself?”

“Cause I see you differently than you see yourself.”

“Why?”

“You know why. You are smart. “

“You want to tell me something?” he smirked getting closer and hugging her once again, only this time she hugged him back.

“Now you are getting cocky, huh? A second ago you were about to cry your heart out….”

“I hate you.” his grip grew tighter on her hips and she shifted not feeling good with him feeling all her surplus "stop fidgeting!"

"I'm not comfortable with ....."

"You will learn to be. I'll make sure of it. But for now, I still hate you."

“Mhm, right. And that is exactly why I have nothing to say to you, Todd.”

“Maybe not now. We can work on it though.“ he let out a single laugh and she joined him.

And just like that, the air seemed clearer for both of them as they stood on the roof of Wayne Manor simply holding each other with no words needed.

If only they knew all the family were watching them, checking out who won the bet……

#jason todd fanfiction #jason todd angst #jason todd imagine #jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x oc #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #red hood fanfiction #red hood imagine #red hood angst #red hood x reader #red hood x fem!reader #red hood #red hood x y/n #batboys x reader #angst #dc angst #jason todd fluff #red hood fluff #fluff #dc fluff #dick grayson #nightwing #bruce wayne #batman

[faeriekit]

hey gang I gave in and wrote something for the Holy Ageswap, Batkid! AU after all :) :) :) :)  Whoops 🦇

Alfred turns the page in the Gotham Gazette.

It looks like there’s to be a stage show at the local theater next week. A performance of King Lear—normally, he would consider attending, if only to judge from a seat in the audience, but his usual operations have largely changed in the last few months.

For one, his free time has severely decreased.

“Alfred,” a tiny voice pipes up from somewhere around his knee. Alfred sets the newspaper on the plastic picnic table.

Bruce Wayne, second grader and aspiring crime fighter, has both hands fisting Alfred’s more comfortable dress pants. The boy isn’t stellar with eye contact— based on Alfred’s research, that may never happen—but he is a remarkably clingy child, when he can bear human touch.

“Bruce.” Alfred’s greeting is just as calm. Just because the other children in the kiddie gym may be raging doesn’t mean that Bruce doesn’t prefer quieter tones. “How was your lesson today?”

Bruce bounces on the balls of his feet, his little white socks raising and lowering. “I did a front flip today,” the boy reports, pleased. “Dick said I did a good job. I have a sticker now.”

A reward. Alfred does smile; he isn’t sure that Bruce fully appreciates the item itself, but the positive reinforcement Richard provides his students is certainly appreciated just as much. “May I see it?”

Bruce pulls his sleeveless shirt forward until Alfred can see it. With his reading glasses, he can somewhat make out a little blue figure with some sort of shield.

“Ah, Captain America,” Alfred realizes. His wire frames return to his breast pocket. “No Gray Ghost, of course, but highly respectable.”

Bruce hums, and kneads the fabric trapped in his hands. Alfred knows perfectly well who Bruce’s favorite crime-fighter is; after a few movie marathons, trips to thrift shops and secondhand sales to find more tapes and merchandise, and re-readings of the novelizations, all at his new charge’s request, the preference has become clear. There is no one who reigns in Bruce Wayne’s favor above the Gray Ghost. “Dick let me pick last, so I had more time to make a decision.”

“That is very kind of your teacher. Are you ready to say goodbye for the evening?”

Bruce nods. In the same way that he is uncomfortable with eye contact, he is often uncomfortable with prolonged skin-on-skin contact, so Alfred doesn’t offer to hold his hand. Bruce keeps himself tucked away at Alfred’s side, perfectly content, with three slim fingers keeping him latched onto the edge of Alfred’s wool jacket.

They are usually one of the last to leave the gymnasium, if not the last. Bruce usually wants to report about all he’s done for his lesson, and then takes a moment to dress himself in daywear once more, all at his own pace, before they leave. It’s optional to speak to the coach on their way out, but Alfred prefers to; although he is retired, and has no intention of either returning to his field of work or introducing Bruce to it, he still appreciates supervising and evaluating Bruce’s training for its level of quality.

Richard is a fun sort of lad. Loose—in the way that young men have been, he wears his hair long and enjoys colorful fabrics. In the gym, he wears his dark hair up in a ponytail and throws cotton tees on over his shorts.

“Hey, Bruce!” Richard recognizes, and waves. Bruce silently waves back. “Ah, and you’re his guardian. Alfred, right?”

No assumed family connection. Alfred accepts the handshake. “Rightly so.”

Richard grins, white teeth and patience. “Excellent! Well, I’m happy to report that Bruce is coming along well in his class. He’s very dutiful with his exercises, and works very hard on mastering the newer tricks we learn in lessons. I’m sure he’ll be able to place up into one of the higher level classes by next year.”

Bruce, of course, is touched, and kneads the fabric of Alfred’s jacket that much harder. The little nuances of childhood’s strong emotions. Alfred will never understand them.

Richard leans down, ever so slightly. It’s not low enough to be condescending, but manages to make himself at least more equal with the height of the child. “Do you remember what we worked on today?”

“Yes!” Bruce declares, happy to have an answer he knows. “First we sat down on the mat and then you told us about how the gym is going to be closed next week because they’re replacing the climbing net and then we did our warm ups and we did butterfly legs and we stretched out our arms and then we stood up so tall—“

“Bruce has an excellent memory,” Alfred explains to a clearly flummoxed gymnastics teacher. Bruce’s recitation of events does not end. “When we get home tonight, he is going to repeat the entire lesson on his mattress. I am certain he is going to ask for gymnastic mats for Hanukkah.”

Richard laughs and laughs until he runs out of air. He surfaces with tears in his eyes. Bruce accepts a very careful high-five, swiftly changes in the single-stall family bathroom, and is escorted to the car by his older guardian. Bruce buckles himself in and hugs his gym clothes.

They drive back to Wayne manor.

“I think Dick has secrets,” Bruce announces, apropos of nothing. His feet kick against the seat.

Alfred hums. His eyes stay on the road. “Oh?”

Bruce nods. Alfred catches the last edge of the gesture in the rearview mirror. “He has a lot of big scars under his shirt, and always knows if you’re beside him. Sometimes he practices before class, and he’s really good at climbing stuff. He has big knives in his locker.”

Alfred mulls over the stated observations. Well, the observations are valid at the very least. However:

“I believe we have discussed respecting others’ personal boundaries, Bruce.” This has been a frequent point of contention.

Bruce’s huff is audible. He is no doubt crossing his arms in the back seat. “Alfred.”

“Bruce.” Alfred is firm on this point. “Your aspirations of detective work are to be admired; however, you are still eight, and could be removed from your class or otherwise fined if you are caught. Breaking into one’s personal possessions remains illegal.”

Bruce goes silent. The sound of kicking feet stops. They sit, quietly in the car, as Alfred drives them home through dingy back streets of urban Gotham.

He really only turns to face his charge once they hit a red light. “I did notice, however,” Alfred continues, half as sly and satisfied besides. “That Richard has very prominent swordsman’s calluses.”

The boy, of course, lights up. Beyond his love of Gray Ghost and learning new detective skills, Bruce loves, beyond all reason, new clues. “I saw," Bruce breathes, fists balled up as he veritably shakes in his seat. “When we high-fived! What do you think??”

Alfred rights his position for appropriate levels of concentration whilst driving. “Well,” Alfred admits. “There is no point in making any assumptions now, of course. We only have half the information.”

“Aw.”

“We can, however, perform a very thorough background check.” Perhaps it isn’t ethical to bribe young children with borderline legal methods of informational gathering, but it does keep him occupied between his school hours and his extracurriculars. Alfred will take what he can get. “Would you like to learn how to gain access to several forms of paperwork when assessing someone’s trustworthiness?”

Bruce kicks the seat again, thrilled, squeezing his little gym bag taut in his arms. He buries his face in it, overwhelmed, and only surfaces for a second to shout: “Yes!”

“Good.” Now there will be something to do after dinner. “Now, don’t forget to wash your hands before dinner. We’re having pot roast.”

“Thank you, Alfred!”

“You’re very welcome, Bruce.”

#neurodivergent kid vibes all the way arouuuuund #faer winds #this one is not batfam but it is batfam adjacent #holy age swap batman! #holy age swap batkid! #batman au #dc #Batkid!AU

[dearestones]

As Long as You Don’t Leave (Yandere! Amane Misa x Reader)

Warnings: Yandere character, yandere behavior, slight manipulation tactics. 

Anonymous Request: Could you do Yandere Misa Amane with a darling that is fiercely opposed to Kira and would never Support Kira?

.

.

.

You don’t mind Misa. Not at all.

Unlike her superfans who thought that she could do no wrong or her critics who tried to poke fun at her cute schtick of being far too childish for her age, you knew who she truly was at her core. She was a wonderful human being who had suffered so much loss in her life, who had been pushed to the brink of insanity and depression time and time again. For all of those who thought that being a model at such a young age meant that she was served the world on a silver platter, they were wrong. Misa worked hard to maintain her image and even harder to stay at the forefront of people’s minds.

That meant, whatever political or moral views Misa held, she couldn’t just say them out loud. 

Oh, you could hear her complain to her manager about the statements that she wanted to make, what sort of responses she would give to interviewers should they ever broach the topic of Kira. Despite her persistence, Misa’s manager held firm: you could not simply admit to being a pro-Kira supporter. Just because he was doing society a world of good—Misa’s words, not her manager’s and certainly not yours—that didn’t mean that there weren’t any long-lasting consequences to his actions. 

Just because he was killing criminals didn’t mean that crime would stop.

Just because he was instilling fear into people meant that Kira would gain respect.

What would happen was that criminals would start committing even more heinous crimes, ones that would exploit loopholes, corrupt legal systems, and make cover-ups an absolute. 

Kira would usher in an era of paranoia and secrecy, of a generation who would seek fit to leak their friends’ or family’s names and faces should they step out of line.

“But you don’t know that!” Unlike the soft fabric of her dress paired with the girlish pigtails that lay gently on her golden locks, her voice needled and sharpened to irritating points. She lay on her stomach, her legs kicking up the air as she gazed down at you, her head cradled in the meat of her palm. 

As for you, you sat cross legged on the floor, a series of newspaper clippings and magazines either scattered on the floor or blanketing your lap like an uncomfortable quilt.  

“You’re right, I don’t.” You shrugged, almost careless in your motion before regarding Misa with the weight of your attention once more. “However, you can’t deny that killing people is wrong. Criminals are still people. Therefore, killing criminals is wrong.”

She huffed at your logic before rolling onto her back. 

“Is it really wrong if they deserve it?” 

You shrug, the small mound of papers decorating your lap shifting and sliding onto her bedroom floor. 

“That’s what the justice system is for. You just don’t pass judgment because you have the power to do so. We have a system—flawed, yes—but it’s something that keeps us in check.” You sighed and fingered one of the clippings that caught your eye. There were columns detailing pro-Kira sentiments and reading them made your stomach churn in disgust. “No one person should have that much power.”

“And if Kira wasn’t a person?”

You finally looked up at her, saw that she was lying on her back now, but kept her eyes trained on you. 

You recalled how some of the news articles—gossip rags, now that you thought about it—began talking about Kira as if he were some deity or cosmic force sent from above to cast judgment. 

“Are you saying that he’s not human?” This time, you couldn’t help the edge that was sharpening at the end of your words. “What kind of god kills their people?”

With the rising tension, Misa rose from her bed and padded on the floor towards you. You of all people were more than aware of her short short and slim stature, how she worked out to keep fit and slender as opposed to bulking up on muscles. However, all thought of her not having the strength to do whatever she was going to do all but does your mind. 

With one, swift movement, she grabbed you by the collar of your shirt and hauled you up from your seated position and into a kneeling one. A part of you had willingly knelt on your own, but the other part had stubbornly resisted. That sort of strength that Misa had? She rarely showed and it was only when she was feeling more emotional than usual. 

“I’d rather worship a god that enacts swift justice than a legal system that lets murderers and rapists go.” 

You gently touch her wrist of the hand that held you captive. She struggled to hide it, but she was trembling with all of the passion of a religious zealot. You would never abhor her admiration for Kira—the loss of her parents and the subsequent stalking was more than enough justification—but you could never bring yourself to share her views. Looking up at her now, you saw that there was a desperation in her eyes.

She wanted—no, needed—for you to take her side. 

Kira had advocated for her, but he was a faceless entity.

You were there with her.

And if she couldn’t rely on you to share her views, then who else could? She needed someone. 

“Misa—” You started to say, but she shook her head, her brown eyes welling with tears. 

“I—” She let go of you and her head fell forward and into the crook of your neck. Hot tears coated your skin as trembling breaths greeted your ears. Carefully, you placed a hand around her back and at the back of her head. The warmth comforted her somewhat, but the stutter in her voice had you take pause. “You love me, right?”

You thought about it. “Yes.”

“Then you would take my side on this, right? Lovers are supposed to support each other! So why can’t you do the same?”

You sighed. She stiffened in your hold, but you paid her no mind as you rubbed circles onto her back. 

“That’s not how love works; you know that.” You pulled away and cupped her weeping face. “Couples don’t have to share the same opinions about everything. Obviously, sharing a few common values is a big part of the relationship, but it doesn’t have to be everything.”

“It’s just… If we argue about this, what if we argue about other things as well? I don’t… I can’t lose you!” She hid her face behind her hands, loud sobs wracking her frame. 

“Hey, hey…” You petted her hair and pulled her in close once more. “I’m not going to leave you, okay? It’s also normal for couples to argue, you know? If you want, we can talk about this later. Or tomorrow. Whichever works out for you is fine by me.”

Before you could say anything further, Misa threw herself forward and latched around your neck. You pitched back onto the floor, but thanks to the mound of newspaper articles and magazines, you were able to cushion your fall. 

You don’t notice this, but Misa was smiling into your skin. 

It was okay if you didn’t agree with her today. Or later. 

But she will try to convince you to see things from her point of view. It didn’t matter if her attempts would take weeks or even months. You will be a Kira supporter. You will support her in her ideals. 

As long as you don’t leave. 

.

.

.

DISCLAIMER: I do not condone yandere behavior outside of fictional settings. Please don’t mistake the actions of fictional characters displayed in works of fiction to be considered harmless in real life.

If you want to donate a Ko-Fi, feel free https://ko-fi.com/devintrinidad.

DEATH NOTE MASTERLIST

#death note #dn #death note misa #dn misa #death note yandere #yandere x reader #dn yandere #death note reader #dn reader #yandere misa amane x reader #yandere misa amane #yandere misa #misa amane x reader #misa x reader #dearestones #devintrinidad #gender neutral reader #gn! reader

[toshima-division]

"Expect the best; prepare for the worst."

Introduction

Lillian Rees is the third and final member of the Toshima Division rap group, Inner Circle. She is often called by her MC name, ISIS. The only child to a prestigious family in Great Britain, this young woman abandoned her birthright after she became tired of trying to please her overbearing mother. She now works for Chuohku, planning to put her skills to better the world for everyone's sake.

Lillian is a British woman hailing from London. She is a fair-skinned woman with blue eyes and light red hair that goes down to the top of her back. She is in her early-to-mid 20s, and has a good appearance, though she pays little attention to such things. She has a B-sized chest with short hips, and a slim waist.

Attire-wise, Lillian always tries to dress professionally, no matter the situation. She wears a black dress shirt with a light blue suit jacket over it. She has on a long black business skirt with block stockings on underneath. On her feet, she wears a pair of black Mary Jane shoes. She also has a Chuohku brand on the top of her left hand, and a silver dog tag necklace around her neck. Lastly, to complete her outfit, she wears a green beret on her head.

Name Meanings

Lillian - lily, purity

Rees - ardent, fiery

Aliases

"Fastest Typer in the World"

Lillian-san - Kaori

Ada Lovelace - Mei

"LeAnn Chambers"

Biographical Info

Gender - Female

Age - 26

Birthday - Jan 30th

Ethnicity - British

Hair Color - Fiery Red

Eye Color - Blue

Height - 163 cm/5'4"

Weight - 52 kg/114 lb.

Star Sign - Aquarius

Piercings - N/A

Markings - The brand of Chuohku on her left hand.

Family

Biological Mother

Biological Father, Unknown

Voiced By - Emeli Sandé (Singing)

Fun Facts

MC Name - ISIS

Occupation - Computer Specialist/Chuohku Official

Division - Toshima

Team - Inner Circle

Position - Third Member

Favorite Food - Cottage Pie

Least Favorite Food - Blue Cheese

Likes - Computers, information warfare, hot tea, English breakfast, hot showers, newspapers, writing down her thoughts, beautiful scenery

Dislikes - Her mother, foolishness, bad information, foul ups, politics, viruses, cigarette smoke, hot climates

Hypnosis Microphone

Lillian's Microphone is a black-wired headset and earpiece that is connected to a handheld computer that she holds in her right hand.

Her Speaker takes the form of six computer monitors. Five of them are in a circle, while the sixth one is in the middle of it. At first, the monitors display a blank screen. When Lillian begins rapping, however, the monitors turn on, displaying a speaker in each, except the one in the middle, which displays the group's logo.

Her rap ability, Scan, has Lillian using her computer to scan one of her opponents, allowing her to look up any available information on them, such as their weaknesses, providing her and her team an advantage. However, she can only use this on one opponent.

Lillian's rap themes revolve around logic and reasoning. She often uses large words to convey what she is explaining. She often sings and raps about politics and the meaninglessness behind it. Besides that, she often sings about her mother and how sorry she is that she can't be what she wants her to be.

Personality

To say that Lillian is an analytical and tactical person would be putting it lightly. As a former major in the British army, this young woman makes plans for almost everything, no matter how minute it may be. She always considers the consequences of each action she makes and how it will affect her and those around her in the long run. She almost always does things by a timesheet, and likes to have charts and timetables for every plan and action that comes her way.

Because of her critical way of thinking, Lillian dislikes emotional drama or issues that do not concern her in anyway. She is a very straightforward woman, and as such, she can come across as being very insensitive. She often says things without considering how it affects others, and doesn't spare another's feelings. However, she doesn't act this way because she means too. It is simply due to the fact that she was raised by her tyrannical mother that the young British woman forgets about the aspects of human life.

Despite her insensitivity, Lillian is a good woman to befriend. Her heart is in the right place and she is good to the people she manages to befriend. And with every insult or insensitive word that comes out of her mouth, she quickly mends with either good advice, or a suggestion to make it better. And at any rate, she was hired by Chuohku more for her IQ than her EQ.

Background

LeAnn Chambers was born in London, England as the sole child of a baroness and a male escort whom she was madly in love with. Unfortunately, her father-to-be held no real feelings for his mistress, and fled to be with a woman who truly loved him. Upset and embarrassed by this, LeAnn's mother directed her anger and scorn to her own daughter, whom she saw as the byproduct of the man who impregnated her.

From an early age, the young girl never experienced a 'mother's love'. Smart and intellectual, LeAnn excelled in everything she achieved that was both mental and academic. Unfortunately, no matter what she did, it was never enough for her mother, who was quick to berate or find another reason to insult her, no matter what she did. Eventually, tensions rose between the two as the young girl grew older, with the two having a heated argument and her mother denouncing LeAnn as her daughter, which suited her just fine.

Leaving the family household, LeAnn made the decision to join the British army, where she was lauded due to her impressive intellect, but was also reprimanded due to her penchant for disobeying orders that made little sense. Eventually, she was promoted to Major, which was a great honor for her. A couple of weeks after her promotion however, she was contacted in secret by ██████, who offered the chance to join a like-minded group of individuals, which she be put in charge of. Needless to say, the woman accepted.

It was there that she met Yeong "Cain" Hajoon, the former heir to the Cain family in Korea. Though she was, at first, put off his lackadaisical personality, she had to admit that he could be quite serious and smart when the situation calls for it. After she ██████████████████, Yeong helped her out and in return, she promised him a date to return the favor. Unfortunately, that date would never come to pass.

A month or so afterwards, LeAnn, for some reason or another, ██████████████████, and disappeared. Half a year later, she reappeared, donning the name Lillian Rees and serving the Japanese government known as Chuohku, and is now part of the Toshima Division group, Inner Circle. Her reasons for this are unknown and all contact with her has been cut off. Has she betrayed ██████ and Great Britain? Or is there something more going on here? Only time will tell...

Trivia

She is ambidextrous, learning how to write with both of her hands.

She holds great respect for many British women. Her favorite is Ada Lovelace, the first computer programmer (She doesn't take offense when Mei calls her this).

She currently holds the record for, 'Fastest Typer in the World', being able to type 216 WPM (words per minute).

Though she hides it, she has a secret love for sci-fi anime; particularly, ones about 'giant robots.'

#hypnosis mic #hypnosis mic oc #hypmic oc #hypmic #hypnosis microphone #toshima division #lillian rees #inner circle

[writerleo86]

Terravenger Season 6 - The Misplaced Arc - Episode 483 (Do Not Copy) - 11.10.2023

    Inside the Principal's Office at the Midas Academy, the commander Beau Ravenstone sat at his desk as he listened to what was told by Kirk Tucson who stood before him.

    After that, Beau lowered his chin on his left fist while his elbow sat on his desk.

    "It was her after all," claimed Beau. "The Sinister Mistress."

    "It seems that way," implied Tucson. "Mr. Storms described her in great detail. I'm sure if we had asked him to draw the woman, Duo would do great."

    And a worried Beau added "The man that Duo described from one of his visions may have been Commander Veil. That must mean the Agents of Light must have dealt with both Cama Veil and Cutter Evans."

    Tucson lowered his head and replied "But Duo never said that she gave a large amount of damage to each of them. So, it is a slim chance that Veil and Evans are both still alive."

    "I only hope so," said Beau.

    Then the commander asked "Does our Mr. Storms have the ability to view certain events that involves Mother Blight, and feel certain parts of these events?"

    "That may be so," answered Tucson. "Duo did describe both Commander Veil and the Sinister Mistress in perfect detail. And Duo's claimed he has never seen the both of them before."

    Beau thought to himself "How is that possible? During my time with her, Tina has never said that she had this particular power. So how is our son able to see these events firsthand?"

Terravenger -- Season 6

Episode 483:  The Misplaced Arc -- Spoken from a Familiar Force

    At the beautiful grasslands outside of Midas City, someone stood several spaces away from an old mansion that was made from a large mountain.

    The individual turned out to be the mysterious man with light skin, short dark-brown hair, and a growing beard. He wore a collared dark-gray shirt underneath a buttoned dark-gray business coat. They also had a thick white watch worn around his left wrist, dark-gray dress-pants, black socks, and black dress-shoes. And he carried a large brown handbag using his right hand.

    This individual had watched another person walk onto the porch of the beautiful mansion. And the newcomer stared at the closed door of the building.

    This person was the emotionless Rick Kamiya. He wore a bright blue tee-shirt, tight white jeans, and short brown boots. He also had on an opened orange jacket with long brown sleeves. And his MAF badge was placed on the front left side of his jacket.

    He placed his right hand forward which revealed a large barrier of light-orange energy which was around the entire building. Rick soon opened the door. And the counselor went into the mansion as the energy barrier remained invisible.

    Rick remained still as he faced forward. Placed at the other side of the large living room was a beautiful black couch along with a small metallic table placed before it. And another person sat on the middle of the couch as they read today's newspaper.

    The calm counselor informed the person "Admiral Redbourne would like a word with you."

    Suddenly, every light in the room was turned off. Rick spread his arms away as he lifted his head. He soon closed his eyes as a large cloud of orange smoke floated before him. And parts of the smoke quickly formed into a strong face.

    The being said in a strong male voice "We all have come into an agreement concerning you."

    The person sitting on the couch lowered his newspaper and revealed themselves. It was the young-looking magus known as Leo Faust. He had clear green eyes, light-brown skin, and black hair that lowered past his neck. He wore black eyeliner, light-purple lipstick, and a thin ball of silver pierced to the bottom of each ear. He wore a sleeveless outfit with light-purple covering the top. Around each arm was a long black warmer that was not attached to his shirt. He also had on a pair of tight black pants, long black boots, and a thick golden belt with the white skull crest at the middle of a long black rectangle which was used as the buckle. And he wore a necklace that carried a large amulet shaped as a crucifix.

    A carefree Leo leaned his back on the couch and laid each arm on the couch's top. Then he listened to what was told by the force behind the bright cloud.

    The voice of Martin Redbourne informed him "We will grant you full immunity from arrest once you stopped whatever the Agents of Light are planning."

    Leo looked up at the ceiling and implied in his soft English accent "You have indeed been a magnificent host to me. You even rented this mansion to me that is quite divine. There is so much art in every part of this sanctuary."

    He faced the floating cloud and added "But the only part that is been lacking from inside would be people to having amusing conversations with."

    "Enough!"

    The voice of Redbourne soon told Leo "We have decided to agree to your terms. The only things you have to do are infiltrate the Agents of Light and stop their plan. You'll get a bonus if you do somehow eradicate the Light-Bringer entirely."

    Leo gave a soft chuckle and replied "That is good to hear. With that agreement I approached being signed by every single one of you, I will do what I can to make everything involving the Agents of Light and Mephistopheles all disappear. After that, I have your permission to roam where ever without interference from the law."

    "You will do everything according to what I say!" ordered the voice. "You will keep in contact on your progress! You will let us know everything you do from here on out!"

    "Well certainly," responded Leo. "Reporting every task I do will not a difficulty for me."

    Then the voice roared "Just do not fail! Order must be known all over the planet of Terravenger including its nine nations! I will not stand for otherwise!"

    The floating cloud before the possessed Rick finally faded away.

    After that, an emotionless Rick stared at the peaceful Leo as fire lit in his eyes.

    "And I assume..." implied Leo. "...the Hellhound will be the only of his minions to watch over me."

    Rick remained silent as Leo responded "Yes, I've had pleasant encounters with a few of your kind over my life. I have already learned many ways to elude you. You must keep this all in mind."

[albertcapraro]

November 28, 1976 - The Palm Beach Post Capraro's Spring Collection: Short-Shorts Used Throughout

NEW YORK (UPI) - Freshman designer Albert Capraro's days as the favorite of the women in the White House might have been short-lived, but they long enough to make his label a hallmark of Seventh Avenue. Since First Lady Betty Ford first invited hime to the White House two years ago, his romantic designs -- flowing evening gowns, slim skirts and jackets -- have been seen on television and in newspapers almost as often as Mrs. Ford and daughter Susan. Capraro's Spring '77 collection, shown yesterday at a Fashion Press Week presentation, is on its own and there's little doubt that it will be going a long way. Short-shorts under wrap skirts are used throughout his new spring collection including his formal evening wear. For a rainy day there's a poplin rain suit featuring blouse and jacket with big wrap skirt over a vest top, short-short jump suit, Sheer chiffon, full length print skirts with wrap blouses over pleated short-shorts were shown for evening. Street length, off-white burlap silk dresses and feather light, linen with cashmere walking suits and blue stripe seersucker dresses for daytime wear all were cut full and tied or belted to give the waist a very small look.

#ALBERT CAPRARO #Fashion's Prince Albert #Fashion #Betty Ford

[acrylicat]

i dont know what my word limit is on this. maybe their isint one. who knows. who cares. i dont know why i started this. i just want to blog. i want to share my thoughts on the internet anonymously. i dont actually think this will be anonymous. the chances of anybody i know some how stumbling upon this specific page on tumblr is pretty slim. its a chance im willing to take. who knows how often i will post and how long i will keep this up. maybe this will be my new outlet since my therapist keeps cancelling on me. in years from now when i am famous people can look back on this and giggle. hello my fans from the future. if youre wondering how i knew i was going to be famous, my psychic rachel told me. she also told me a lot i didnt want to hear. like i guess at the end of the day i knew most of that stuff. i just didnt want it to be acknowledged by someone else. im not sure why i am writing about this now considering its a months past. i am missing homecoming because my parents had to pick this weekend to go visit my brother in college. im typing this as if i care. im rather glad i have an excuse not to go stand in a gym on a saturday night wearing a short skin tight over priced dress surrounded by everyone i see monday-friday from 8-1. today in the car i drew my silly little drawings for my schools newspaper, west side story. my amphetamines were still going strong so i whipped out two essays in an hour. im sure if i read through them now i would realize just how out of my mind i am. i send my friend caroline emails everyday at school. each day they get longer. every thought in my head returns into those emails. i will start using my energy towards that to here. except these will be written at night. every day i go through a cycle where i wake up feeling like jesse j in the bang bang music video and i go to bed feeling violently depressed. wake up with a god complex in the morning. this cycle happens every day. so sorry you see the side of me that would cry over any stuffed animal if i saw one right now. i am getting sad over paddington bear right now. i actually have no memory of his movie. i just feel like it would be really sad. anyways i am about to fall asleep so i will leave you with this.

-ac

[robertsraahauge]

Financial & Imaginative Birthday Card Ideas

cartoon cat costume Cat costumes complemented by accessories and comprise will provide the complete look. Make certain your costume is various and likable. The most preferred cat Halloween attire is a black jumpsuit which is made from polyester. Black is a strong colour and it reflects the vitality of a feline. It makes the wearer high, slim and attractive. I'm going to group all of the super hero's together. Spider-Man must be big this year, as needs to Superman. cat halloween costumes Simplydo not forget the Hulk, Wonder-Woman and Batman. All are favourites almost every year.

Imagination is creativity, expressiveness, creative, to generate, to produce, to represent, to offer character to, to progress from one's own ideas, to bring into being, to conceive, to moms and dad, to throw together, to trigger. A Tweety cat costumes for adults Partyalsoattractgrownups who'vematured with the little bird. You can include Tweety in a celebration for a bird fan, an admirer of cartoons, and even a bird. Lots of bird owners hold uniquecelebrations for their birds when they reach an essential birthday due to the fact that some birds live for a trulylong time, as much as 100 years. Think abouttossingan unusualparty with a Tweety themeconsidering that Tweety wants all an uncommon bird of distinction. This is another popular Halloween gown that is causing ripples online. It's readily available in numerous sizes. It features a coat, a tie, inflatable shoulder pads, pants and a gangster mask. It's also another special dress that can suit males for Halloween celebrations. A number are built around the refrigerator and loads of cheese. With clever twists and turns Tom and Jerry video games keep you connected. The very best part is that these video games are a celebration of innocent and sweet childhood as they are so charming. Older kids and teen outfits tend to be frightening Halloween costumes. Anything from cutesy things all the way to the zombies and bloodsuckers. The popular costumes typically include black or darkness and variety from vampires and witches to fallen angels and satanic forces. Skulls are also typical among Gothic fashion. Gown up your little woman in this cute Batgirl outfit that includes a pink dress with Batman sign, cape, silver belt, pink wrist cuffs, and pink boot covers. Total the look with a cool pink bat mask. See her goku cat costume conservehumanity from Joker in this charmingclothing. Find (around the home) or purchase a large green T-shirt. Go outdoors and cut off a piece of routing or climbing vine in your lawn. (If you do not have a live plant that you can use then use an artificial plant.) Safety pin the vine diagonally to the front of the Tee shirts. Have your child wear green or white tights and a pair of shorts over the tights. Make a hat out of newspaper. There you have it. a costume right out of a storybook!

#cartoon cat costume #cat costumes for adults #cat halloween costumes

[selfbit00]

Generate Income Being Funny

I wonder what William Caxton would have made of everything. I wonder if William Caxton had any concept what he had stumbled upon when he started cranking out printed papers in England way back in the 1400's. Mister Caxton developed the first English printing press when he returned from Germany in 1476 and soon later on, produced the very first books to be made in England. Learn it. Yes, it can be a natural skill for some but if you want to discover to be amusing, you can at least learn it or cultivate your funny bone. When to offer an amusing remark, find out how to see the funny side of things and discover. Discover from funny individuals. View funny motion pictures and programs. Find out the things that many individuals find amusing and make certain you gain from the very best comedians. You can also get yourself some funny books to read and get concepts. Try to discover some funny words too. Expressions can also be funny. memes can also be habits - like jogging with headphones. At one point people just ran; along came the Sony Walkman and whatever changed. Emailing individuals is a meme. Back in 1995 I spoke with the person in charge of technology for state department of education and he could not fathom why individuals would desire to email each other. Utilizing cellular phones, text messaging, practically any new set of behaviors that individuals pass and embrace on are memes. Here come those book things once again! Riding to the rescue, supplying the stable influx of extra cash that can quickly accumulate to that essential deposit, or to produce funds for whatever project or idea might be lurking in the corners of those fertile minds. M and M's have gone huge this year. Especially with the talking M and M sweet commercials that are such enjoyable to see. Each color has handled a personality of their own. There are two unique M and M outfits offered. The very first is a standard M and M candy. It covers the whole body with your arms, legs and face poking out of the costume. fortnite: the ultimate book of memes is a tank dress for girls. This is designed more after the attractive green M and M on the commercials -although it does can be found in yellow and red also. I just wish to state a fast thank you to each of these authors for their life-changing words and info. I am pretty particular that without reading these books, I would not be in the position that I am today. Like Brian Klemmer states In his book, "If How-To's Sufficed, We 'd All Be Skinny Rich and Happy." It takes more than just "how-to's" to get what you desire.

I swear on my life the resolution of this problem on the planet of sales comes from integrating - not balancing - one's self-interests with a genuine interest in assisting the other. Publication cover page short article titles are my favorite example of terrific titles at work. Like newspapers and tabloids they should have titles that pull and entice at your interest to sell magazines. For instance, which would capture your attention quicker, "7 Easy Ways to Lose Inches Off Your Waist" or "How to Slim down In Your Waist?" book of cat memes of people are drawn to the specific outcomes in the very first title. Go get your preferred magazine and notice the post titles that mesmerize your attention. This has been among my preferred funny quotes of perpetuity. It is downright easy yet it speaks what truly is taking place in today's society - rat race !! Amusing as it might seem however there's fact in it. We have actually been working from sun up to sun down, compete versus each other but then at the end of the day in spite of all of it nothing seem to be working. Absolutely nothing appears to be improving. You're still a rat stuck in a routine that you can't get out of.

#memes #funny memes #book of memes #read memes #crazy memes #read book of memes #funny book

[mysewingadventures]

Historical Accuracy of Costumes in Period Films - Enola Holmes

Disclaimer: I will put no spoilers so you can still read if you haven't seen the movie yet! This post is just me assessing the costumes and their historical accuracy.

First of all, since the movie came out I had already heard a lot about it in just those two days that I was very curious to see if it lived up to the hype and it truly did! It's well-made with round characters and a gripping story line. But enough about the movie, let's get on to the costumes.

The movie is set in 1884, and at first I thought she was born in 84 (because of the intro) so I did like a third of the movie thinking the costumes were outdated until I looked at a closeup of a newspaper and realized that it is set in 84, so yay for me. But anyways, here are the facts.

Enola is 16 years old, therefore considered a child/young woman in society and would be wearing children's clothing but we'll get to that later

There aren't many examples of children's clothing from that time so I'll have to refer to the few fashion plates that I can find.

This blue dress from the beginning of the film has basically everything one would expect from the very end of the 19th century, but not necessarily the 1880s. The loose front is a very end-of-the-century, more so even Edwardian thing, and from the fashion plates and magazines I could find it seems that children's clothing was heavily inspired by adult fashion. It has a very low waistline and is overall very straight. Enola's dress looks more 1900 except for the fitted sleeves which are accurate for the period. And the collar looks completely out of place. But, of course there’s always a but, this is just taking mainstream fashion into account. The Aesthetic Dress movement took place in the 1880s and the dresses would have looked somewhat similar to this one, with a loosely fitted front but they also had puffier sleeves, so it’s like they took some details from different movements and also took some inspiration from the Edwardians and put them all together in a dress.

Another thing I would like to add, (hence the advert - I had to make collages to fit 10 pictures in this post) I am not sure as it doesn't fit her character at all but she looks corseted in those pictures (I added the first one specifically because I think you're able to see the outline of a corset? Faintly?). Depending on your age and status and your parents' plans for you (aka if they wanted you to get married at 16), teens of that age would either wear a corset or not. But taking Enola's upbringing into account and it was rather uncommon for a 16 year old to be wearing a corset, not unseen but uncommon, I'd say that if the costume department decided to put Millie in a corset in that particular scene is historically inaccurate. There were corsets for young women/teens, but they didn't give you that extreme hourglass shape, they were straighter and didn't give you a tiny waist, like the bottom right one in this corset advert. Unfortunately, I could not find out when it's from but it should be somewhat close to the 1880s.

Next up, I would like to say that the length of the skirt they chose for Millie to wear is appropriate for a 16 year old! Unlike what we saw on Anne with an E...

At one point we get a look at her undergarments and they're looking fine for the time! The chemise and the drawers, she's obviously not wearing any petticoats as she's being measured but we saw a glimpse of a petticoat when she was riding a bike in an earlier scene so yes, this part is accurate.

Next up, I'd like to talk about this lady and her dress is just amazing, fashion plate worthy and absolutely accurate, I have nothing bad to say about this.

What I noticed overall in the movie was that the bustles weren't as extreme as I would have expected them to be, but it all had to do with personal preference so it's not necessarily historically inaccurate to see more lowkey bustles. But I didn't see one bustle that was just crazy in today's eyes so maybe they could have improved on that but I'm just nitpicking at this point. Or maybe I've just gotten so used to seeing old clothes that nothing shocks me anymore.

Here we can see some crinolines being sold and judging from their width they are somewhat outdated.

They could pass as maybe early 1870s if not even 1860s.

Now Enola wants to become a lady, so she has to wear adult clothes! Here, she goes into a shop and puts on her clothing. We can see here how poorly fitted the corset is; the lacing gap should be parallel but you can see in the mirror how it gets smaller towards the bottom. Maybe it was done unintentionally but maybe it's just supposed to show that ready-to-wear corsets just weren't made for the person buying them. But in that same scene, we finally get a proper bustle! That's historical accuracy right there!

Next up is her iconic red gown.

Now... I had a little bit of trouble with that one. The skirt is a little wide in my eyes, but the overall shape and cut is fine, with that layer draping over her underskirt. However, her neckline is something you wouldn't typically see. You see other characters wear high necklines, so I don't know why they chose to give this dress almost an evening wear look. V-necks did exist in evening wear, but then again they would be paired with frilly short sleeves and not tight fitting day wear sleeves. So all in all, yes, the dress is accurate but the neckline is uncommon.

Next, we have what is probably the most accurate one of her costumes – the mourning gown.

It's slimmer than the red one and there are so many examples of extant garments on google pictures that look so similar to hers that I'm just gonna say, excellent job!

Next is my favorite despite the neckline problem. She just looks so pretty in it!

The neckline isn't as low as on the red one but still quite uncommon. Another detail you can see in the second picture is that she seems to be wearing a bum pad instead of a bustle, which I think is acceptable. It's slim, it has a layer that drapes over the underskirt in the front, and even the sleeves are a little bit gathered at the top which was very common.

And lastly, we have this white dress where she goes back to the style she wore at the beginning of the movie.

And once again, just like I said in the beginning, this is not something you’d really see being worn in that time unless we’re talking about the Aesthetic Dress and now the sleeves aren’t as fitted so it makes sense for the movement, plus it’s kept very simple.

Overall you can say they did a fairly good job at making everything historically accurate but took some artistic liberties here and there, just like you would expect from a movie.

#enola holmes #sherlock holmes #millie bobby brown #victorian fashion #fashion history #historical fashion #period movies #enola #1880 #19th century #1880s fashion #corset #fashion #victorian

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

semicolon, m | myg

pairing(s): yoongi x reader

summary: He knew you. You knew him. Or rather, you both had an idea of the other, only to find that perhaps you connected on a much more carnal, animalistic level. It only took a hotel bar, New Year’s Eve, and the words, “Nice tattoo.”

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; alludes to attempted suicide; intense smut (fem reader, BDSM themes, semi-public exposure, restraints, nipple play, tit slapping, m-receiving oral, pussy spanking, doggy); non-idol!AU; rich heir, dom!Yoongi x tattooed, sub!reader; shifts back and forth between Yoongi’s POV and your POV

–

He was sure it was you.

You had tattoos now. A geometric lotus in your right inner forearm and a filled-in circle with a four-sided starburst around it on your inner left forearm. He observed you turning your head and there was a semicolon tattoo under your left ear. You moved your hair to cover it and nursed your rum and coke, alone. The tight black dress you were wearing was sinful at best. Closer to positively illegal with the way it clung to your breasts and squeezed them together. No one was approaching your table in this hotel bar. It was impossible to approach you when you looked that good.

You tapped at your phone, frowning.

He picked up his glass of whiskey and glided to you.  

“Nice tattoo.”

You froze. Your eyes followed his finger, to your left forearm.

“It’s the symbol of the Sith Order,” you replied coolly.

“Star Wars?”

You lifted your head, raising an eyebrow. Beautiful makeup. Smokey eyes, red lips, your beauty marks visible. You hadn’t hidden them with foundation. He appreciated that.

“Yes.”

He set his glass on your table and slid into a chair. “Aren’t the Sith evil?”

You didn’t respond to that. Merely smiled at him, eyes sparkling with amusement.

“Do I know you?” you asked, tapping your nails on your glass. Matte black. Interesting.

To be honest, he wasn’t sure. You had attended to the same university. He could guess why you had the semicolon tattoo, because he had been in the hallway, witnessing the event when the ambulance took you to the hospital. He had been sleeping with a girl on your dorm floor.

Admittedly, not one of his proudest moments.

He cocked his chin to your right forearm. “And the lotus tattoo?”

You shrugged. “Just a recommendation from my tattoo artist.”

He took a slow, even sip of his whiskey. “Any more?”

You rested your chin on your fingers, placing your elbow on the table.

“You’d have to take me home to find out.”

Somehow, he did not think you were referring to your under-ear tattoo. He raised an eyebrow. “A woman like you, unclaimed? I can’t imagine why.”

You chuckled, lowering your hand to sip your rum and coke. “Perhaps it’s just personal preference.” You frowned, wincing, as if you remembered something unpleasant. “And perhaps it’s society who doesn’t like women who have their tattoos exposed.”

He thought about his fair skin. The many times he had thought about getting inked, but chickening out because he couldn’t think of committing to one specific image or words for that long. Perhaps he was fickle in that sense.

“Min Yoongi.”

He didn’t extend his hand, just stated his name. You paused, holding your glass over your cleavage, blocking it from his view. A moment of silence, a beat passing between your eyes. And then you gave him your name. Yes, it was you. The name had seen in the school newspaper the next day. The name that left the school, disappearing after the incident. He often wondered if you were okay. You seemed okay, looking at him with discerning eyes.

“You are the son of the owner of this hotel.”

Yoongi paused. He placed his glass on the table.

“Something like that.”

You raised a brow and placed your drink on your table. Expression pensive for a moment before you spoke again, tone light and playful.

“Well, perhaps you’ll be interested to know I just had a very unsatisfying one-night stand on the fifteenth floor, so I’ve come to drink the memory away.”

His lips curled into an entertained smile. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

You sighed and licked your teeth sharply. “On New Year’s Eve, too, no less.” You tapped your cheek with your index finger. “I suppose that means this year is off to a bad start.”

He looked at his Rolex watch. And then at you and your cleavage, breasts violently pushed together by your tight black dress. His eyes flickered back to yours. You were watching him carefully, aware of his traveling gaze. He smirked.

“There’s still time to remedy that.”

-

There was something about those eyes that haunted you.

You weren’t sure why, because you were quite sure you had never meant this man before. But maybe in a haze, in a dream? You tilted your head. Black hair, half-pushed back to reveal his forehead, dark eyes, pale skin. The kind of handsome that reminded you of midnights and moonlight, with a raspy voice to match. Expensive black suit with ironed lapels, black silk handkerchief in his breast pocket, patterned with the logo of a high-end fashion designer. Crisp white dress shirt, with a platinum tie clip on his slim black tie. 

Well-dressed. Sophisticated. Dangerous.

You did not know Min Yoongi, but it felt like you knew him.

The entire time he was talking, you were watching his movements. For some reason, the heir to this hotel chain was speaking to you. You weren’t that special. That’s how you wanted it. The more anonymous you were, the less people questioned your actions. There’s no way Min Yoongi would know you. And why wasn’t he in the hotel club instead of this quieter, more low-profile hotel bar? Most people wanted to party on New Year’s Eve. The hotel was hosting a huge one at the moment.

You?

You just wanted a good fuck, honestly.

So when he offered, it surprised you. A lot of people would tell you that it was dangerous to have sex with a stranger. A rich man, no less.

But you were also the one with the Sith Order symbol tattooed to your arm.

Your lips curved to match his smirk.

“You got a room?”

He licked his lips.

“They’re all my rooms.”

-

It started the instant the two of you stepped into the elevator. Your long black fur coat was around your arms, shoulders exposed. No purse, because you had sewed pockets into the coat for your belongings. Less to lose this way. Yoongi had taken you to the back of the hotel, through dark hallways and shadows.

“Service elevator. Less people.”

You cocked your head as he pressed the up button, speaking again.

“Less paparazzi.”

You shrugged. “Someone has probably already caught you and posted it on Twitter.”

The elevator pinged and the doors slid open. You stepped inside and he shoved you into the wall, pressing his expensive suit into your body as the doors slid closed. Eyes on yours, hot breath in your face.

“No cameras,” he growled softly.

The numbers were climbing up, up. 

Your tongue slid out as you tilted your head. You pressed it against his lower lip. His eyes were so dark they looked black in this lighting. So close to him that you were breathing in his exhale mixed with his pine-scented cologne.

“What are you waiting for?” you whispered. “Give me a taste of your power.”

Should you have provoked Min Yoongi? Maybe not, because his kiss sucked your breath away, his large hands coming up and holding you in place as he teased your lips, nipping at the thin skin, making you gasp into his mouth. He had you pressed into the metal wall of the elevator, one of his legs slipping between yours, thigh pressed into the hem of your short dress. Lips to lips, working you, teasing you with his tongue, not giving it to you.

He backed up a little, breathing down on you and your panting mouth.

“You bought this dress for someone else to take off, hm?” he purred, lips dark pink from kissing you.

“I brought it for the sole purpose of being taken off.” Your chest was heaving, ribcage constricted by the boning of your dress. “It’s not attached to a particular person.”

His hands slid down your head, trailing on your bare shoulders. Sliding into the fur, staring at your face the entire time. Drumming against the slinky fabric of your tight dress as if you were the grand piano and he was the pianist.

“It could be.”

Yoongi tilted his head, lips brushing against yours.

“It could be for me.”

One by one, his fingertips hooked under the hem of your dress, nails pressed against your bare thighs. His hands were cold, sending tingling shivers all over your nerves. Eyes half-lidded, smokey orbs locked with yours. Your lips curved into a succubus’s smile.

“It’s yours now.”

He chuckled, yanking the hem up and over your ass. Chilled air rushed to your naked thighs, your black lace, French-cut panties out in the open. He looked down at your quivering legs and then his eyes immediately fixated onto it. Another tattoo. You watched as Yoongi took it in, able to see it because the boldly printed script was on the space were your right leg and crotch connected, that dip of flesh right above your pussy. His eyes flickered back to you.

He raised his eyebrows.

“’Good luck’, huh?”

You grinned.

“Good luck.”

The elevator dinged.

A housekeeping worker with their cart craned above the supplies to look at you two and then immediately looked away, closing their eyes. Unmoving like a statue. Didn’t try to roll the cart into the elevator, didn’t say anything. They knew exactly who Yoongi was and it seemed like they knew exactly why you were there.

“Come.”

He didn’t take your hand. He simply removed his heat from you and glided through the doors like an elegant ghost. You followed, heels clicking on the floor before touching the carpet. Like your dress, your slim heels were the slightest bit uncomfortable. It kept you at attention and highly aware of your surroundings, even though you had a few drinks.

Your eyes traveled over the lavish wallpaper, the plush red carpet. Over-the-top intricate and extravagant that bordered on gaudy. This was the top floor. The penthouse. You didn’t have to go far. The entire wing was the room.

You wondered why he took you here just for a simple fuck.

Yoongi unlocked the door.

-

“There’s only one stipulation.”

“Tell me.”

You held up the condoms from your pocket.

Yoongi smiled.

-

He was going to tie you up.

You watched as he pressed a button and the metal bar descended from the ceiling, complete with leather straps. You raised your eyebrows. Yoongi watched your expression carefully. The bedroom was dark, only lit by moody red LED lights from behind the bed and low sconces. The color reflected off his pale skin, casting half of his face in shadow.

The button had been behind a locked panel. He was probably the sole owner of that key.

“You are welcome to leave at any time.”

He said the words without emotion. You removed your fur coat, placing it on the oversized black velvet armchair. Everything in the room was in various shades of black and navy, in plush fabrics or luxurious leather.

“You spend a lot on your hobbies,” you commented.

Yoongi smirked.

“Sex is a performance.”

Your eyes connected. He removed his blazer. Like all of his movements, it was a swift and practiced manner, with two fingers hooked around the collar as he walked towards you. He tossed it on top of your coat. Now Yoongi was right next to you, your black dress still bunched around your waist. He did not have a particularly oppressive presence, but it was more like the company of the ocean. Expansive with unreachable depth, strikingly beautiful, and would have absolutely no qualms in drowning you.

Yoongi made sure your eyes were on him.

His long fingers deftly removed his cufflinks, sliding them into his pants pocket before slowly rolling up his sleeves. He was wearing multiple silver bracelets on each wrist, no rings. He folded the crisp white fabric up to his elbows, revealing his lean forearms. He had nice hands. Pampered ones.

“Scared?” he asked casually.

You reached up to the hook-and-eyes at the front of your dress. His eyes followed your movement. One. Two. Your words complimenting the removal of each one. Your breasts slowly relaxed from their prison, held in place by your free hand holding the top of your dress so you could travel downwards.

“Fear is natural,” you whispered quietly. “It is merely a tool in the realm of the strong.”

Yoongi’s lips curved into a slow smile. “Do you intend to speak like that the entire time?”

You chuckled as the last one was undone. “No. I’m only informing you I’m a bit of a masochist.”

And then you released your hand holding up the dress, causing it to unfurl and slide down, stopping at your hips and flaring out like a flower.

-

Yoongi wondered if you did this all the time.

He wondered if this was a product of your life experiences or your instinctual nature. He watched as you slid the dress down your thighs, letting it fall to the floor. You stepped out of it, only in your heels and panties. His teeth sunk into his lower lip.

Yoongi had taken a lot of people to this room. All strangers. Never one he knew from the past, no matter how insignificant. That made you the exception, even if you didn’t remember. His memory was still so vivid to this day.

He let his eyes roam over your body. As he predicted, you had great tits. The dress accentuated them after all. There was another tattoo. Script on the left side of your ribcage. You noticed him looking and turned slightly so he could read it. He had to think. It was in English, like your crotch tattoo, although that one was easier to translate.

“’The world is quiet here’?” he echoed.

the world was written so it was only visible from the front, is visible from the side, and quiet here visible from the back. Printed a typewriter’s font, no punctuation, the placement deliberate and thought-out.

You smiled. “Book quote.”

Yoongi liked it when you smiled. He reminded him of his own, a little hesitant but self-aware of your own quiet confidence. He lifted his hand and placed it behind your head, guiding you to him.

“You are very interesting,” he murmured into your mouth before he kissed you again. Tasting like rum and coke mixed with oceanic blackberry. He had smelled that scent before, although not on skin. He recalled the counter of cologne, the glass bottles with the unisex design. High-end.

On your skin, it smelled like sex itself.

He slid his tongue in between your soft lips, running it over your teeth. Drinking in your gasps, taking it all. He liked it when you breathed into his mouth too. You let it out like smoke, drifting into him. Your hands came up to hold onto his upper arms, steadying yourself. He liked the feeling of your hands as well, the way each finger curled around to grip him tightly. His thrust his tongue in and out, slowly, each moan chaining to the last. His hands in your hair, tangling it up, making a mess.

Yoongi opened his eyes just a crack. They landed on the tattoo in your left forearm, the filled-in circle with the four-sided starburst.

What had made you get a symbol like that tattooed to you?

He pulled you along, still kissing you, towards the metal bar. Turned you around, kissing down your jaw to the back of your neck. His hands slid down your hair, tracing your spine. Fuck. Such a beautiful back, with a lovely curve, so perfect to bend over. He dug his nails into it and you whined under him.

Yoongi didn’t bother asking you if you wanted it. You had a mouth; you could use it.

And you were grinding your ass into his crotch so, clearly, he didn’t have to ask.

He folded your arms behind you, forearm above forearm, tying you to the metal bar with the leather straps. One on each of your wrists, one tucked in the inside your elbows, binding them to each other and then all to the metal. He did not want to cover your tattoos but he had to. The position had you bent over, ass sticking out, tits hanging down, back slightly arched.

“Do I need to secure your waist or can you hold it?”

You turned your head back and raised an eyebrow. The curve of your profile, so perfect against the red light.

“What you need to do is fuck me already.”

He grinned.

-

Yoongi pulled up a chair and sat down right in the front of you.

You gave him a slightly annoyed expression. He smirked at you, placing his fingers on your chin, lifting it slightly.

“I thought you wanted a satisfying fuck?” he drawled.

“And yet nothing is happening.”

“Foreplay is just as important as pounding your pussy.”

You suddenly felt his other hand ghost under your nipple, palm barely grazing it. You tried to drop your body into it but were stopped by your restraints. Yoongi cocked an eyebrow amusedly. You narrowed your eyes at him.

“What are you waiting for?”

His thumb slid up your chin. He pressed it into your lips, forcing it open, rubbing your tongue with the pad of his finger. You made a disgruntled noise, saliva collecting where he touched you. You tried to close your lips but he held your jaw down, grip strong and immovable. Spit was trickling down your chin, covering his fingers and dripping onto the floor.

“Waiting for you to give in to me,” Yoongi murmured huskily.

Your heartrate accelerated disconcertingly in your chest. His dark eyes on yours, consuming you, keeping you in this slightly uncomfortable position. And you wanted it. You could feel it, the heat inside you, stroked from embers to full-blown fire, because somehow Min Yoongi could see right through you and knew you wanted what he was composing.

This midnight was his.

He seemed to know that you came to this conclusion. Maybe your pupils were dilated. Maybe it was your shallowed breathing. Maybe it was your trembling body, shaking at his touch. He removed his wet finger and slid it down your collarbones, smearing your own spit on you, before cupping your breast, squeezing it. You sucked in a breath, moaning his name softly as his other hand matched the first, kneading your breasts, rubbing your nipples with his palms.

“Y-Yoongi…”

You gasped as you felt his wrists slide up and the chains of his bracelets scrape your sensitive nipples, blooming pinpricks of pain over your chest. His palms came back, soothing you, his dark eyes intensely focused on your face, not looking away. His fingers pressed into your skin and he closed them in on your nipples, pinching them hard enough so that you could feel it, but not so hard that it was unbearable. He held you there like that. Seconds ticked past. Long, grueling seconds that felt like hours.

Yoongi was very calm about it as you slowly unraveled in his hands.

You body began to move involuntarily, raising your chest so his fingers pulled on your nipples a little. He still did not move his hands. You couldn’t go far with the metal bar digging into your back. He watched you try different things to get more stimulation, fingers motionless. If you moved too much, you were afraid he was going to let go and not give you more. You craved more. Needed it.

“Yoongi, please… Harder…”

His dark eyes were hypnotizing you.

The position of his fingers changed. He clamped your nipples between the joints of his index and middle fingers. You yelped, back banging against the metal. He pressed his thumbs against the hardened nubs, rubbing them harshly. Expression unchanging, forever on you.

“I thought you wanted it harder.”

His voice was deep, calm, with a hint of raspy delight. The sensation was a stark contrast to what he was doing before, shooting sparks of pleasure through your body. You shuddered, bucking into it, knees collapsing a bit as he stimulated your nipples.

“Hold.”

A single command and your knees locked to obey, entire body shaking. Yoongi pulled your nipples towards him, pushing your breasts together as he did so. Your back had to curve abruptly against the cold metal bar at his action. He lowered his head, trailing kisses along your collarbone. You whined, his touch hard and lips soft, eyelids fluttering as your nipples slipped out from his fingers. His large hands quickly twisted to cup your tits, keeping them up and pushed together as he kissed down the curve, nipping sharply at your skin. Leaving small red marks all over, sucking at some points to bruise you.

He didn’t need to speak. His lips told you everything, travelling all over your breasts hungrily, your swollen and abused nipples waiting, patterning your skin before his tongue snaked out.

“F-fuck, Yoongi…”

The pink tip pressed against the inflamed nub, pushing it around delicately. Strands of black hair framed his sculpted brows and those dark eyes were on you again. He closed his lips around it. Your eyelids slid closed, feeling the softness of his mouth and his tongue swiping all over, swift circles.

Then he sucked, hard.

Your eyes flew open, jutting your chest into his face. Yoongi chuckled in his throat and continued to suck, pulsating around your nipple, scraping his teeth against it. One of his hands came up and matched the rhythm of his mouth, tweaking and assaulting your other nipple forcefully. Your core throbbed with need, soaking your panties so much that they stuck to your folds. The scent of your arousal was getting stronger and stronger, a heavy sweetness.

He released your nipples abruptly and you gasped, feeling him lick a fat stripe possessively over your tits. Saliva dripping down, coating them all over. He removed his hand. You panted, trying to catch your breath.

“What’s my name?” he whispered quietly.

You lifted your trembling head, hair covering half your face. Your knees felt like jelly.

“Y-Yoongi.”

He slapped your tits.

You yelped, his open palm creating hot friction on your abused nipples. It wasn’t a hard hit, but an expansive one that covered a lot of surface area. It was obvious he knew what he was doing. Pain trickled throughout your body, pussy throbbing with need.

“Again.”

“Yoongi.”

He slapped you again, from the other side. You shuddered, sucking in your stomach at the sudden pain that seemed to swallow you up, but somehow it didn’t really hurt, instantly morphing into tinges of arousal. It was probably the way he was looking at you. His appearance was bored, but his eyes were trained onto your body, ink-black pupils shimmering with power in his dark brown irises.  

“Again.”

Your eyes dropped down. He spread his legs. It was like he knew what you wanted. His erection strained against his tailored black slacks. It was impossible to hide with how closely fitted they were to his body. Your eyes went back up to his face. His expression was still unbothered.

“Yoongi,” you breathed, the clearest you’ve sounded yet.

Smack! You whined at the force, back against the cold metal. Smack! A half-moan, a half-sob as you felt his bracelets scrape against your skin. Smack! Your breasts banged together, softness against stinging softness, and it just felt so good as the pain crawled through your nervous system, devastating you. Your head was arched back, staring at the ceiling, mouth open and panting.

Yoongi reached up and pushed your head back down. He used his other hand to trace your lips, smeared with lipstick and saliva.

“I’m going to fuck this hole now.”

There was a short silence. He was waiting for you to say no.

You didn’t say anything.

Yoongi stood up and unbuttoned his pants right in front of your face. Your eyes followed his fingers as he unzipped them. The flaps opened and his cock fought against the smooth fabric of his boxer briefs, swelling as it was released from the confines of his pants. He pressed it into your nose and you inhaled his scent, oppressive and erotic, making you moan hotly against it.

You wanted it in you so bad that your juices were leaking down your thighs.

You felt his palm caress your head, smoothing your hair. He rocked his hips into your face, humping your open mouth. You pressed your tongue against his clothed cock, whimpering at how close it was and yet so far. His words drifted down to you in a low growl, teasing and domineering.

“Good luck.”

He removed his hardness from your face. Your eyes flickered up to him, a smirk on your lips. Yoongi matched your devious expression, pushing down his underwear. His cock sprung up into your vision, overtaking it. Oh, fuck. The head already dark red, leaking pre-cum. Veins standing out along the length, waiting to be stroked by your tongue. It was the hottest image you had ever seen, Yoongi’s smug face above you, his stiff cock so close to your lips that you could feel the heat. And fuck, he smelled so good, as if his pine cologne, his skin, and his arousal made an unholy pheromone combination that made you open your mouth, exhaling hotly over the glistening head.

Yoongi shoved it into your lips with one swift stroke.

You reeled, expanding your throat as he buried himself into it, sucking in a tight breath. It was a skillful, deliberate movement, one that didn’t jar your gag reflex immediately. You had plenty of practice from former encounters to not gag at first instinct, but Yoongi also seemed practiced, as if he had shoved his dick down many throats before.

His large hand fitted around the back of your head. Not moving.

His taste overwhelmed your mouth. Your tongue slid around expertly, running down the length, moaning around him. His eyes were closed but you could see his pink lips curve upward. You closed your own eyes, squeezing him in your throat as your tongue rubbed along the veins, pressing him into the roof of your mouth.

“You do not disappoint,” Yoongi sighed in satisfaction.

He pulled out a little and your tongue instantly went to the head, licking slow circles all over, teasing the opening with your tongue, spreading it out before sliding under to stimulate the thin skin between the head and length. Yoongi moaned above you, your name finally falling from his lips. You did not realize it would have such an effect on you until he said it. It made your thighs clench and pussy throb, agonizingly forced to wait until he was done with your mouth.

He began to thrust into your face, slow but forceful, tipping your head back a little so the head stroked against the roof of your mouth before hitting the back of your throat. You took it, helpless, bent over, knees aching as he fucked your mouth, almost lazily. His hand had a firm grip on your head, pushing himself in over and over.

“Keep it tight for me,” he murmured. “You’re doing so good.”

You closed your lips around him, meeting the base of his cock, your cries muffled and vibrating along his hard length, adding stimulation. You looked up, seeing his tensed jaw, pleasure painting his features, eyes closed. Yoongi wasn’t trying to get off fast; he was trying to build it to a crescendo, and your mouth was his tool to do it. In, out, in, out, each time a little rougher, a little more force. Rubbing your throat raw, jaw aching, but you were so focused on the soft pants coming from his lips that you didn’t notice.

“Your mouth is so perfect,” Yoongi gritted out, rocking his hips a little faster. “So soft and tight.”

His eyes opened halfway and he noticed you staring at him as he fucked your mouth. He inhaled sharply at the sight.

“So fucking sexy,” he mumbled. “You want to swallow me?”

You hummed needily in response, gazing imploringly at him. He smirked.

“That’s what I like to hear.”

He rolled his hips, faster, harder. You noticed the muscles in his neck tense, his hand gripping you tighter as he chased his release, fingers digging into your scalp, his cock trembling in your wetness as you sucked your cheeks in. Yoongi clenched his jaw, eyes closing again. His hips smacked into your face repeatedly, your name a low hiss as he thrust particularly roughly into your throat, the head being choked by your wet vise.

“Fuck...”

Sudden, jerking strings of cum shot down your throat, painting it white, pumping straight into your mouth. You swallowed hard, barely able to take a breath before his cock violently shuddered, filling you up with more of his salty, thick taste. He held your head as you gulped around him, groaning as he felt your throat close in on the sensitive head continually.

“That’s it…”

His fingers curled into your hair, lifting it away from your neck and collecting it behind you so he could look down at you drinking his orgasm.

“What a pretty picture and all for me.”

-

His eyes honed in on the semicolon tattoo under your left ear.

It flexed and moved as you swallowed, flickering in and out of vision as the small dangling black gems on your ear hid it. His eyes slid back to your fucked-out face, struggling for breath but being denied by his hold on you.

You might have a personal preference when it came to being single, but Yoongi was a rapacious man, and he wanted to own your mouth. He doubted he could buy it with money, but perhaps he could make you addicted to him. He pulled out of your lips and you whined deliciously.

Inwardly, he grinned like a devil.

Yoongi leaned down and lifted your head, kissing your swollen lips. You kissed him back, starved and hungry for his softness, his gentle touches that were matched by his roughness. Did you always look this good? He wanted you beside him so he could study you, so he could push you to your knees whenever he wanted, so you could resist him and so he could teach you a lesson.

But you deserved the fuck you had asked for. He could smell how turned on you were and he had promised after all. His tongue slid into your mouth and he tasted himself, a familiar taste that somehow tasted better when it was mixed with your saliva.

Yoongi did not think he was going to invite any more strangers into this room after this.

He broke the kiss. Your eyes on him, burning him to the core. He removed his shoes and socks, standing up. Stepped out of his pants, still wearing his shirt and tie. He kept them on as a sign of his power over you. You looked so perfectly submissive, just like this. He had to move out of your line of vision.

There was no way you knew what he was thinking, but he still didn’t trust himself. He did not want to get carried away. He had a job to do.

And that was to fuck you.

He moved around to your quivering legs, seeing your soaked panties. Not commenting, but his cock twitched seeing it, knowing it was him that made you this way. His fingers closed in on the top of them, yanking up. You jerked you head back, moaning hotly at the action. The black lace dug into your skin, seeping into your slick folds. He kept his voice measured despite his desperate need to shove himself into you right now.

“Count to four.”

He dug your panties into you as he spoke and made you whine as he pulled from side to side. The delicate fabric was ripping a little.

“One.”

He spanked your pussy with his large palm. The sound was loud and wet, traveling throughout the entire wing, along with your scream of pleasure. Yoongi was getting hard already listening to you. Even in the low light, he could tell your pussy lips were becoming puffy, reddening. His hand was smeared with your juices and he resisted the urge to lick it.

“Keep going,” he nudged gently.

He heard you panting. “Two.”

Smack! The sound, the sound, it turned him on so much as the lustful moan was torn out of you, your raw throat turning it almost feral. He twisted your panties in your slit, watching the fabric tear slowly against your inflamed skin, drinking in your squeals and whines as he tortured you.

“T-three.”

Slap! His fingers were coated in slickness, watching the wetness splatter between your legs as he hit you. Your ass was backing up into your panties, trying to get more, stopped by the metal bar. If you wanted him to stop, you wouldn’t have uttered the final number, gasping it out hurriedly.

“Four.”

Smack! Yoongi slapped the hardest yet and your knees buckled, almost sobbing. He shoved your kneecaps with his, locking them back in place. Your legs were shuddering hard, barely holding up, but your mouth was telling him a different story, choked gasps of pleasure.

“Fuck, Yoongi, yes…”

He pulled your panties down. They were practically ruined by his grip. That was too bad; they were quite beautiful. He intended on buying you new ones. Perhaps he could come with you to select them.

He paused for a moment to grab a condom, holding it in his hand before returning to you.

“Yoongi, p-please fuck me…”

You craned your head to look at him, the perfect profile. He raised an eyebrow.

“Fuck me with your pretty cock, p-please…”

He stared down at your gorgeous back, the peeks of your tattoos in his restraints, your ass stuck up in the air, pussy lips swollen and leaking from his spanking. He couldn’t see it right now, but he knew the ‘GOOD LUCK’ tattoo was there, right next to your pussy. Yoongi wondered who the artist was.

Perhaps they had been lucky like him.

He felt a surge of annoyance.

Yoongi stepped up to your ass, lifting his cock and pressing the length against your wetness. You started, almost moving away.

“It’s not in you.” He kept his voice even. “You will know if it was in you.”

He exhaled quietly as he rubbed his length and his balls against your wet slit, keeping the head away from you. You were warm, soft, and so, so slick. He was semi-hard, but he could feel himself getting harder as he pressed your ass around his cock, fucking the crevice between your cheeks. He knew it would be better inside you, but for some reason he needed to punish you a little. Needed to let you know that he was irate that there were others before him, that somehow fate cheated him by not having your paths cross sooner.

There was nothing you could do about that, but Yoongi didn’t care.

You were moaning under him, hips pushing back to meet his thrusts, your pussy smacking his balls, coating them with your lubrication. He closed his eyes, letting himself enjoy it. Fuck, you had a nice ass, malleable and lush in his hands. He wanted to own this ass too. You mouth, your tits, your ass.

He knew he would want your pussy too once he was in it.

“Yoongi, please…”

He pressed his fingers into your skin, sliding them inward. Held his cock carefully so it wouldn’t leak on you as he retreated.

“Ah, you’re right,” he purred. “You’ve earned it.”

He opened the condom, sliding it on. His cock jerked in his hands, already desperate for what was to come. He was the kind of man who lived under so much discipline that he knew nothing else. Although life could not be controlled, he could control himself and his emotions.

Yoongi pressed the head against your entrance. Sucked in a breath.

Sank in slowly.

Oh.

God.

Yoongi was not religious, but he swore he saw glimpses of heaven the second his cock was fully enveloped by your pussy. It was tight, it was soft, and each ridge clenched around him, roughly stimulating the head after he had mildly edged himself with your ass moments earlier. You pulsed around him, constricting him inside you as the base of his crotch touched your abused pussy lips.

“Fuck,” he breathed.

He needed to own this pussy.

Yoongi pulled back and shoved himself back in, gasping at the tightness. It was not because you weren’t turned on. It was because you were clenching around him, pressing your walls inward to choke his cock and, if possible, his cock became harder knowing this, harder as he heard you cry out in satisfaction.

“Yes, Yoongi, yes…”

He began to fuck you, rolling his hips into yours, trying to keep it slow and steady to drive you crazy, but to be honest, he was done for, because Yoongi had never experienced such power, never had a body fuck him back with such force, never heard such delicious, desperate mewls of need as he thrusted into you, slamming your hips together with loud squelches. It was probably a lot, his cock hitting you deep and your pussy already sensitive from his spanking, and yet you told him to hold you tighter, fuck you harder.

“Use me, Yoongi,” you gasped. “You feel so good, fuck, Yoongi, your cock is so fucking good…”

How did you know all the words that made him weak? How did you know exactly how to sound to make him want you more? And you took it all despite your shivering legs, despite your tits violently bouncing with every thrust, despite him pressing down on your lower back to hit you deeper. He watched you throw your head back, a long sinful wail slipping from your lips, hair flaring out like fire and you came all over his cock, pussy spasming and clenching around him.

Yoongi’s eyes widened, hips ramming into you. The head smacked against your tightest spot and he saw stars, the pleasure hitting its peak and plummeting into him, taking his breath away. He shot aggressively into the condom, pumped out by your pussy clamping down around his length, sucking it all out. His eyes rolled back into his head with how good it felt. This had never happened to him before. The moans of his name rang in his ears, encompassing him as his cock twitched inside you, the perfect combination of sound and sensation.

If Yoongi ever heard your voice again, it would be synesthetic experience for him, because he would remember this sound and this feeling for the rest of his life.

Outside, the clock stuck midnight, and fireworks overtook the sky in thundering booms.

-

“Was that a satisfying fuck?”

“Very.”

Yoongi reached over and tucked a spare strand of hair behind your left ear. You sat in his lap, in the armchair with the windows wide open, revealing a perfect view of all the fireworks overtaking the moonlight. It was a bit wasteful for your taste. Not that good for the environment. Yoongi informed you that he would look into more sustainable alternatives.

He pressed his lips into your neck.

“The next time you want to stay at one of my hotels, I will make myself available.”

You chuckled. “Can you afford a pause in your schedule?”

You could feel him sucking a red mark into your skin.

“What else can I do when a member of the Sith Order visits?”

You laughed and he smirked against your newly-made hickey.

-

same au as exclamation mark !

punctuation au dom!myg and jjk | period . | comma , | question mark ? | apostrophe ‘

--

masterpost

#yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #yoongi smut #bts smut #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi x you #min yoongi smut

[thetaoofzoe]

Fic: A Wild Woman 1/1

Title: A Wild Woman

Summary: By Victorian Standards, you are considered the dreaded Wild Woman! Your aunt and uncle threaten to disown you and turn you out into the streets unless you agree to a little re-education on how to be a proper lady.

Rating: Mature, fluff, Soft Dom Sherlock!Henry, sex, unconventional

Pairing: Sherlock x YOU

Note: This was inspired by  "A wild woman brought up a wild child. We'll make her acceptable for society." from the EH trailer.

Want to read more? Click for my Masterlist

Your Aunt and Uncle had had enough of you. They were fed up with your lack of female decorum and your absolute insistence to star gaze, associate with male aeronauts and start fires from chemistry experiments gone awry. But you couldn't help yourself. After the scandal of the woman who attempted to join the Chemistry Society a few years back, you had been forever changed. Women could do anything and you were intent on grabbing that elusive gold ring. If that meant attending boisterous underground resistance meetings, or not wearing your corset, then so be it.

Unfortunately, your family did not see it that way. To them, you were a wild woman who had no place in decent Victorian society.

One gloomy autumn evening, when your uncle returned from the gentleman's club, he sat both you and your aunt down at the dining room table for a talk.

Your uncle then gave you a choice.

Well, it was a choice between scylla and charybdis, but a choice nonetheless.

You were either to be turned out into the street to fend for yourself, with no money and no prospects and definitely no husband, or you were to travel to London to be kept, re-educated and made acceptable to be returned to society by a pair of reputable brothers who promised to produce reputable ladies.

What could you do, but agree to the latter, as the former was a nightmare you never wanted to experience.

So you made the long involuntary train-trek cross country to London.

The man who met you at the train station was tall, and slim with a well-manicured moustache that curled up at the ends in the most fashionable way. When he reached for your single suitcase and turned to walk away, you followed without protest.

**

Baker Street was a short narrow avenue that seemed unnecessarily busy for so early in the morning, and when the Hansom slowed, your companion opened the door and hopped out. He offered his gloved hand, which you took and followed him to the ground.

The cab rode off and gently taking you by the arm, the man guided you across the road. He walked up the steps to a dark painted door with the numbers 221b etched on a half-moon of glass above it.  He led you inside and up the stairs to a room at the end of a long corridor.

It was a well-appointed room. Against the wall was a large bed with a patchwork cover flanked by two low dark wood tables upon which sat twin lamps with beaded green lampshades. To the left, a tall window brought in the hazy morning light and illuminating the small writing desk beneath it.  There was also a large wardrobe stood in one corner opposite a bookshelf which was crammed with books.

'Your room, for the duration of your stay. I expect that it will be maintained without clutter.'

He then looked at you and slowly perused your form. You felt scandalised! No man had ever dared make his inspection of your body so plain before. Scandalised, yes, but a slow simmer of heat in your belly belied your inner outrage.

He humphed, and his  eyes moved to meet yours again.

'Sloppy,' he said. 'That you expect to be taken seriously, dressed like this is insulting.'

You opened your mouth and he lifted his brows, waiting for you to speak.

'I expect, sir, for you to watch your tongue when addressing me.'

He laughed quietly.

'My brother will be home shortly,' he said ignoring your protest. 'I believe you will be spending the evening in his company. Granted, he is less strict than I am, so don't get used to his...'

The man pinwheeled his hand in the air as if searching for the most appropriate word, but the opening and then the closing of the front door distracted him.

'Ah,' he murmured. 'He's come home early. Please wash thoroughly and change your clothes. I expect that you have something better than this?'

You narrowed your eyes.

'I will give you one hour and then come downstairs and into the study for inspection. The study is to the right at the bottom of the stairs. Have you... questions?'

'Do you intend to stand here and watch me wash and dress?'

He smiled and wordlessly turned to leave you to your task.

'We'll break you of that attitude,' he promised and closed the door behind him.

You wavered on your feet and collapsed on the fainting couch at the foot of the bed. You were breathless, excited, astounded that you were aroused by the man's quiet dominance.

'This is ridiculous girl!' you chided yourself aloud. 'This whole thing is ridiculous.'

But at least you were in London. You had promised your aunt and uncle that you would be 're-educated' and that you were going to come home the niece they always wanted so that you could be married off to the local farmer's son. What they didn't know, was that you were going to use the little stipend they'd provided and run away into the arms of the big city.

In the meantime, this was what you needed to do to get to where you needed to go.

You got up, stripped out of your travel clothes and inspected the pitcher and basin on the wash stand in the corner. There was water in the pitcher and a clean cloth hanging on the railing. There was also a lump of lanolin soap sitting on the side of the basin and you went about washing the dirt from your travels off of your skin. You didn't bother with a corset, or your stockings. You merely shrugged into your chemise, dress and shoes and went down to the study.

You stood at the closed door, humming with excitement and terror. What if this brother was a hunchback, with a mutilated face and was only gentle because his looks terrified everyone. What if he was old and decrepit and smelled of liniment! You wrinkled your nose at the thought and opened the door.

The study was beautiful, quiet and a fire burned in the small hearth. The walls were covered with dark tapestries and old maps. Books and newspapers were stacked everywhere, but it did not appear to be done in a chaotic manner. There was an order to this room and your heart clenched when your eyes fell on the man who was rising from the high wing-backed chair.

If Gods walked the earth, on a regular basis, you would not have been surprised by his appearance. He too was tall, like his brother, broad across the chest with a narrow waist and sturdy thighs.  He was in his shirtsleeves with a high starched white collar and dark brown tweed waistcoat and matching dress trousers.

And the curls. Oh the soft mass of chocolatey brown curls were stylish and clipped short and nicely complimented his handsome chiselled face.

'Turn around, please,' he said, his voice all honey and milk and you obeyed immediately.

'Face me again.'

You did so and he approached, hands clasped behind his back. He shook his head.

'You know this is unacceptable, don't you.'

It wasn't a question.

This wasn't how it was supposed to go, you thought. You had practised on the long train ride to London. You knew exactly how you were going to respond and exactly what you were going to say. But your mind had gone blank and only silence came out of your sweet quivering mouth.

You lowered your gaze.

His dark shoes were buttoned neatly and had been shined carefully. He was obviously a man who cared about his appearance.

'I expect things from you, when you're under my roof. This shabbiness and unruly nature will not be permitted and if you continue to pursue these avenues, you will be...'

He trailed off, and began to walk in a slow circle around you, prowling, like a sleek beast and you couldn't help feeling helpless.

Like you were prey.

He stopped after one revolution and stood at your back. He was so close that the heat and scent of him engulfed you. You closed your eyes, and sweat broke out across your upper lip and brow.

He 'humphed', sounding just like his brother and stuck a finger against your side. You didn't dare squirm away from his examination and you held yourself taut.

'No corset,' he said, finding you soft and unrestrained beneath your clothes. 'And I wager, no stockings or combinations.'

You were silent and it seemed that the very silence was a living creature, pricking your skin.

'Answer me.'

'No, none of that.'

He took in a long breath and let it out slowly.

'Upstairs, now. Gather your undergarments and bring them here.'

You turned so fast that you nearly banged into him. But you managed to scurry round him, and dart up the stairs as fast as your legs beneath your full skirts would carry you. You blindly grabbed everything that you had and nearly tumbled back down the stairs in your haste to please this man, this stranger, who within moments of meeting him made you want to drop to your knees and worship his masculinity.

He was still standing in the same place where you left him, back straight, head up, elegant hands clasped behind his back.

Out of breath, you stood before him, arms full of undergarments and he smiled. That smile took your breath away. He directed you to dump your clothes on the nearby desk.

'Now,' he began, scholarly. 'The makings of a society appropriate lady, begins at her skin. Do you understand?'

You swallowed hard and nodded.

'Good. Now, remove your clothing. We have to start from the skin.'

There was heat in his voice, filled with a demand that brooked no argument, and with trembling hands, you unbuttoned your waistcoat, unpinned your skirt and shrugged out of your rough collared shirt until you stood there bare beneath your chemise.

You worked your hands together in front of you feeling damp between your legs and ready to show him everything that was private about you.You unlaced the chemise at the collar and let it fall.

He looked at you for a long time, appreciating you, drinking you in and he was very obviously pleased with you.

He pointed to the combinations lying in a heap on the desk.

'Combinations.'

Your combinations were in two pieces so you stepped into the split bottoms and pulled on the top.

'Now corset.'

You went back to the table. You had two corsets, and you looked to him for his opinion.

'Blue,' he said. 'It laces in the back.'

Normally, as you dressed yourself, your corsets (when you wore them) laced in the front. But this one, he chose purposefully. He wanted to have control over dressing you.

The blue one was already partially laced so all you had to do was pull it over your head and hold it in place. You turned your back to him and waited. He began to slowly tighten your laces, starting from the top and working his way down, one after the other after the other he pulled the narrow fabric through the eyelets closing the boned corset around you, trussing you like a tart and stealing your breath.

The corset was tight, but not overly so, just enough to make you realise that you liked it. He tied the remainder of the cord round your waist and tucked in the excess.

'Will you take it off me when it's time?' you breathed, lightheaded with arousal.

And he hummed a soft response.

Then followed your simple cream and blue coloured dress, which you stepped into with his help. It buttoned up the back and he took his time doing so.

After what seemed an eternity, he stepped away from you and mourning the loss of his heat, you watched him walk to the chair, turn and sit down.

'Come here, and bring your stockings and ribbon.'

Like a puppy, you followed and stood at his knee.

He took the stockings and thin blue ribbons and laid them across his lap.

'Right foot,' he murmured and patted the spot on his thigh where he wanted you to put it. 'Balance yourself on the chair if needed.'

You put a hand on the top of the wing back and sighed softly when he rolled up the first stocking and slid it on your foot and up your leg. You bit your lip, but you couldn't look away from the deft fingers that trailed fire along your skin. He tied the ribbon just below your knee and folded the top of the stocking over it.

'Left.'

You switched legs and he repeated the process, only this time after he had tied the ribbon and folded the stocking down, he held your calf with both hands and looked up at you.

'Now you are finished. Is there anything that I did that you did not understand?'

You shook your head, not trusting your voice to come out as anything but a squeak. He nodded to acknowledge your answer, paused, and then slid one hand up your calf, to your thigh and over the material of your combinations to where they split to reveal your tender sex. He lightly brushed his fingertips over your naked mound and you made a noise that was quite unbecoming of a society lady. Clapping a hand over your mouth, you did the only thing you ever wanted to do the moment you laid eyes on him; you widened your legs.

'I prefer an unruly woman,' he said, sliding one finger into your slick wet cunt. 'I think they have spirit.'

Whining, you grabbed onto the other side of the chair and leaned on it for support. He stroked your clit slowly, carefully, pushing back the swollen little hood and pinched it between his fingers. You squeezed your eyes shut and stars burst against the darkness. You were going to scream if he continued.

'Please,' you whispered, jerking your hips forward, encouraging his further exploration. 'Please... just please!'

He slid his fingers out of you and with his eyes still on your, he put those same fingers into his mouth.

A cry of frustration escaped you. You hiked your skirts and climbed onto his lap, giving him just enough room to unbutton the opening of his trousers and draw out his leaking cock. You took him in hand and he grabbed your hips and pressed back into the chair as you positioned yourself enough to sink slowly down onto him.

You leaned back into his hands, tipping your chin up and moaning loudly, voluptuously, clenching tightly around him, circling your hips to feel all of him filling you completely. He groaned quietly, much more subdued, but no less aroused and he looked up just as you looked down at him. You grabbed his exquisite face between your hands and kissed him, lapping eagerly into his delectable mouth, letting your body rise and fall as your cunt greedily devoured him.

You pushed your fingers into his soft curls, and held his head up, kissing and biting at his plush lips, riding him slowly at first, and then faster as the crescendo of desire and lust and pleasure crested then exploded inside you. Every part of you clamped down hard on him and you rocked and back and forth, milking the shuddering orgasm out of him.

It took a moment before the two of you finally relaxed from your shared high. Still holding his face, you kissed his cheeks and his forehead and his lips over and over until his softening cock slipped out of you. You sat back on his thighs and imagined his cum leaking out of you and onto your combinations.  You giggled at the dirty thought.

'I'm Sherlock,' he said after a long silence, looking up to meet your gaze.

'I'm... smitten,' you answered.

Maybe a little re-education wasn't such a bad thing.

-End

I hope you enjoyed it. Please like, share comment reblog all that good stuff. :)

#henry cavill #henry cavill smut #sherlock!Henry #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x you #sherlock holmes #sherlock holmes x reader #sherlock x you

[xiaomoxu]

Lucien - Intimate Date

⚠️ SPOILER ALERT!! ⚠️

A date from CN server which hasn’t been released on EN server yet. Might contains some spoiler. Happy Qixi Festival~

Translations under the cut~

-

Whistle: Speaking of which, Mr. Lucien...

When the "whistle" spoke, I did not hear him clearly. He had to knock the steering wheel twice before I came back to my senses.

MC: Yes, what are you talking about?

Whistle: I said that this mission goal is rare to invite you to travel with. You must seize the opportunity and strive to completely gain his trust.

Whistle: You must record his destination, what he ordered on the train, and who he met.

MC: Yes, I remembered it.

My answer seemed to make him dissatisfied, and he looked at me warily through the rearview mirror.

Whistle: MC, It can't be... Are you tempted by that Mr. Lucien?

With a stern expression only face, I sat up straight up steeply.

MC: What are you kidding about, how can I be tempted by that kind of person?

Whistle: Hmm, you just have to know it.

There was no more words in the carriage, and the car continued to drive towards the train station. Looking at the bustling city outside the window, I tightened my lips.

How could I be tempted by Lucien?

If there is someone who fascinates me, it should...

I lowered my head and glanced at the book in my arms.

"Awakening" Snow fox.

ㅡThis "Snow Fox" who can guide me and give me strength first.

The first time I read Mr. Snow Fox's article, I seemed to be drunk, and all the confusion and perplexity I had been dispelled.

He used his pen as a knife to attack injustice and pave the way for peace.

He is a lonely walker with a torch in his hand, walking in the long dark night.

I am a small streamed firefly attracted by the hot flame, chasing this light silently.

Finally, with all efforts, I joined the organization of Mr. Snow Fox

Although I haven't seen his true face yet, but he once asked someone to forward me a book to encourage me.

MC: You are shimmer, you want to hide under the darkness.

I opened "The Awakening" and mumbled out a line of text on the title page—this was also a personal message from Mr. Snow Fox to me.

MC: I will never disappoint Mr. Snow Fox.

The car stopped by the train station, I put the book back in the secret compartment of the suitcase, and carefully sorted out my cheongsam.

The Whistle opened the door for me.

Whistle: For the last, check the mission target situation again.

MC: Okay.

Whistle: Who is your goal?

MC: Lucien.

Whistle: Who are you?

MC: Lucien’s blind date, which is a rich lady who has lived abroad since she was a child and returned to China for less than half a year.

Whistle: Your task.

MC: Monitor Lucien and find out his purpose of leaving Loveland City this time.

Whistle: Very good. One more thing, if there is a suitable opportunity in this trip...

Whistle: Kill him.

MC: Assassinate Lucien?!

This order was a little unexpected, and I couldn't help being taken aback.

Didn't the previous organization say that Lucien maintains the balance of the Loveland market and asks me to focus on surveillance and not to move?

MC: Why did you suddenly kill Lucien? Was it a temporary decision by the organization?

Whistle: What do you ask this for?

MC: Because this is contrary to my previous actions, so I want to confirm again...

Whistle: This is a private order from Mr. Snow Fox.

MC: Mr. Snow Fox...will give me a private order?!

My eyes widened in surprise, and when I wanted to ask a few more questions, a horn suddenly interrupted our conversation.

At the intersection not far away, three black cars approached us one after another.

The black goat logo on the front of the car was plated with a dazzling silver in the sun, like the cold light on the tip of a knife.

The original noisy street became extremely quiet, and only the tires made a slight rubbing sound on the ground.

The convoy drove slowly across the road, and after such a long distance, I still saw the clear profile face of the mission target in the car window at first glance.

It’s Lucien.

Whistle turned his face and saw Lucien's motorcade, and he frowned.

Whistle: You don't need to be too nervous, I will pretend to be an ordinary tourist at the next stop and sneak into the third-class carriage to meet you.

Whistle: Remember what I just said, once you find the opportunity to do it, use the transmitter in your suitcase to contact me.

Whistle: Okay, it's time to play, Miss MC.

MC: Mmhm.

I took a deep breath and got out of the car with a small suitcase.

The door of the middle car across the street also stopped at the same time. A group of black subordinates lined up, and one of them opened the door.

The first thing that catches my eye is a hand holding a cane. The fingers are white and slender, and the nails are neatly trimmed, like the hands of a literati.

Only the thin calluses at the knuckles indicate that this hand can hold a pen or a gun.

The owner of the hand, leaning on a jade cane, stepped out of his right leg first.

With his figure, it may be more suitable to wear a slim dress, but even if the gown is tightly wrapped, you can still see the straight and slender legs.

The silk gown bends like flowing wrinkles between his knees, and the dark lines on the satin surface reflect the shimmering light as he moves.

He raised his other hand again, took a trilby from the hand of his respectful subordinate and put it on his head.

In the silence, Lucien got out of the car slowly.

It was so quiet all around, it seemed that he was the only protagonist of this silent film.

And after Lucien's gaze slowly looked around, he finally stopped at my face across the street at this moment.

In an instant, his indifferent eyebrows were stained with the temperature of the early morning, and the lip line also bends in a pleasing arc.

Lucien: MC.

MC: Mr. Lucien

Obviously his appearance is so harmless, three points gentler than the teacher in the school.

But when I think of the rumors about this "Mr. Lucien" in the market, I still can't help but feel a palpitation.

He held back his subordinates and walked towards me with a smile.

Lucien: Sorry, did you wait for a long time?

MC: Fortunately, I also just arrived.

I took a step forward, trying to maintain my innocence and asked

MC: Mr. Lucien, where are we going this time, why would you think of inviting me with you?

Lucien: What we are going to is a very beautiful place. As for why I brought you...

Lucien: I think a smart girl like you shouldn't be surprised.

MC: You praise me like this, I'm so embarrassed.

MC: Now that Mr. Lucien decides to keep the sense of mystery, I will keep looking forward to it.

I reddened my cheeks pretending to be shy, but my heart was beating wildly because of the other party.

Whistle hurried to the trunk to help me take out the luggage, and Lucien also leaned down and naturally took the suitcase from me.

Then he straightened up, smiled and stretched out his other arm to me.

Lucien: Let's go.

MC: Okay.

I happily wrapped his arms, leaned my body against him-and walked towards the train station.

There is still a short distance from the start of the train. As VIPs, Lucien and I have already arrived in the luxury carriage in advance.

And after the whistle sent my luggage onto the train, he left immediately. Before leaving, he didn't forget to wink me a warning.

Lucien leaned on the sofa. He glanced at the back of the whistle through the window and whispered.

Lucien: Miss MC, your driver...

Subordinate: Mr. Lucien.

The subordinate's knock on the door interrupted Lucien's words, and he frowned slightly.

Lucien: Come in.

The subordinate walked in quickly and whispered something in Lucien's ear.

I tried to prick my ears, but I could only hear a few scattered words-"clue", "check", "eradication"....

While listening, I calmly poured myself a cup of scented tea.

As Lucien listened to the report of his subordinates, the corner of his mouth moved.

Lucien: Don't worry, continue to follow him.

Subordinate: Did you mean...

I don't know if it was my illusion, Lucien's eyes seemed to turn to me.

Lucien: If you want to do it, do it thoroughly.

Lucien: After all, an excellent hunter wants to lure the "Snow Fox" out of the hole, and it can't do without enough delicious bait.

Snow Fox!

Suddenly hearing these two words, my fingers trembled, and the scented tea almost spilled from the cup.

Lucien: Miss MC, what's wrong?

MC: No, nothing, my finger was accidentally scalded by the teacup for a moment.

Lucien: Let me see.

MC: It's okay, it's just hot.

But Lucien had already held my hand, his strength was very light but I couldn't refuse it.

The cool fingertips rubbed my red fingertips, bringing out an ambiguous itching.

He observed it carefully for a while and saw that there was nothing serious, so he pulled a white silk kerchief from his arms and wrapped it around my finger.

Lucien: The walls of this porcelain cup are relatively thin, so you will remember to put something on your hand next time you drink hot tea.

MC: Alright, I remembered it.

Lucien smiled at me, and lightly shook my fingers wrapped in the kerchief.

When he spoke again, his words were directed to his subordinates.

Lucien: Follow the previous plan. I hope to hear some good news when I get to the station.

Subordinate: Yes Sir.

At this time, the sharp siren finally sounded, steam gushing out, and the steel wheels began to move forward steadily.

The people on the platform waved their hands, saying their last blessings and goodbyes to their loved ones, lovers, and friends.

Amidst the hustle and bustle, there is also the persevering cries of newsboys, one after another, like cicadas in the late summer, so ear-piercing.

News Boy: Sell ​​newspapers! Take a look! Mr. Snow Fox's new work "Dark Night Flame" is on the market!

--

Before I knew it, I had been on this train for three days.

During these three days, I was not restrained and could walk around in the train at will. The scenery on both sides of the train was beautiful, and the companion accompanying me was considerate and gentle.

If it is said that the only flaw is that there is still no intelligence.

MC: Lucien...

This man is indeed too perfect and too tricky.

I sighed and looked at the figure on the platform unconsciously from the gap between the curtains.

The train will stop next to a small station, and Lucien is talking to the owner of the food stall, he looked gentle and humble.

He paid the money and was about to return to the car with the paper bag. Suddenly, a boy with a cart next to him slammed his feet and slammed forward, exclaiming.

Seeing that the cargo is about to collapseㅡ

Lucien's eyes were quick, and he held the cargo box with one hand and the boy with the other.

Lucien: You all right?

Boy: You are?! sorry! sorry!

When the boy saw that he almost hit a noble person, he trembled with fear and apologized again and again.

Lucien: Don't be so nervous, you didn't hit me either. Go ahead.

Boy: Thank you sir, thank you sir!

The cargo boy ran away without looking back, pushing the front of the car.

-It seemed like a small accident, but from my perspective, I clearly saw the cargo boy quickly stuffing a note into Lucien's hand when he left.

Why did Lucien use this method to deliver messages?

I watched Lucien's calm and composed face, and suspicions gathered in my heart. I raised my head  and met his gaze.

MC: ...!

I drew back abruptly, avoiding his sight.

Subordinate: Mr. Lucien?

Lucien: Nothing, go up, don't let the kids wait in a hurry.

After a while, Lucien appeared at the entrance of the carriage. He smiled and raised the paper bag to me as if nothing happened just now.

Lucien: Today is Chinese Valentine's Day, there happens to be a fruit seller in the station, wanna try it?

MC: Huh, today is Qixi Festival?

I couldn't help but froze. The spirit has been tense recently, but even the days have been somewhat forgotten.

Lucien: No wonder you forgot, it was my fault that kept you in the train for too long.

Lucien: But it doesn't matter if you forget these festivals, I will help you remember them.

When he made a promise, his brows were dazzling and his tone was solemn, as if he really was a caring beloved.

Lucien sat next to me and handed me the paper bag.

The small and lovely fruit inside exudes a fragrance, I picked up one and said with a smile to Lucien.

MC: "Begging every year is a coincidence in the world, and there are too many inhumanity in the world", my pleasure.

MC: Hmm... delicious!

MC: Mr. Lucien, do you want to taste it?

With a smile, I picked up another dessert and handed it to Lucien's mouth. He fixedly stared at me for a moment and bit it with a smile.

MC: How is it, isn't it delicious?

Lucien: Well, this is the first time I have eaten this kind of dessert. It is sweet and slightly salty, with a crunchy texture, and it tastes really good.

Lucien: What makes me even more happy is... You really like the taste of this hometown.

He just bit the word "hometown" a little bit harder, and it made my breath stagnate.

MC: I don't understand what Mr. Lucien's words mean.

Lucien: I remember that Miss MC who came back from studying abroad. Both your parents are abroad, right?

Lucien: It just so happened that my subordinates went to a country where Miss MC's parents, so I asked him to inquire a little bit.

Every time Lucien said a word, he leaned forward by a point, and the distance between us was closer.

His breath was burning, with the sweet fragrance of fruit, but it caused a chill in the back of my neck.

Lucien: In his reply to my telegram, he said...in the local area, there has never been such a family.

Lucien: So, Miss MC.

His hands are still cold, and when it touch me, it's like touching rare fragile objects.

His fingertips went from my brow bones, to eyelashes, to cheeks, and finally gently twisted away the fruit crumbs from the corners of my lips.

Lucien: Can you tell me who you are?

Silence flows between us. The train has not started yet. What can be heard is the shouting of the platform not far away, as well as the breathing and heartbeat close at hand.

As Lucien's breath enveloped me, there seemed to be a flame igniting in the place where he had just touched. I bit my lower lip and tried not to shift my sight.

MC: Is the answer to this question important to Mr. Lucien?

Lucien: Of course it is important.

MC: Why?

My question made Lucien raised his eyebrows in surprise.

Lucien: Haven't you noticed MC? You are a very important person to me.

MC: Haha, Mr. Lucien's words really flatter me.

tugged at the corners of my mouth stiffly, but my mind was spinning.

What does Lucien mean by "not found"? What does "very important" mean?

How much did he find out about my identity?

With Lucien's ability, as long as he catches any slight loophole in my words, it will be enough to destroy everything.

No, I can no longer answer any questions from Lucien.

It just so happened that the train whistle sounded again, and I put my hands behind me and pretended to pull the tablecloth inadvertently at the moment the train started.

The tea cup on the table swayed twice and poured in response. The remaining tea in the cup was spilled on me and Lucien.

I took the opportunity to sit up, lowered my head to help Lucien wipe his clothes, and apologized to him again and again.

MC: Oh, Mr. Lucien, I am sorry!

Lucien looked down at the tea stains on his silk shirt and smiled.

MC: I'm okay, but you have water stains on your body, so go back and clean it up.

As a pardon, I nodded and left immediately.

Lucien: By the way, I asked the train restaurant to prepare a candlelight dinner tonight, and I hope Miss MC will appreciate it.

MC: With Mr. Lucien's invitation, I will definitely be present in full dress.

Lucien: I believe MC, no matter how you dress it up, it will look good.

Lucien lifted the teacup on the table, seemingly inadvertently added another sentence.

Lucien: After all, such a good day as Qixi Festival cannot be easily let down.

I was sent back to my car by Lucien's subordinates. The moment I closed the door, I felt my strength slip away and plunged into the mattress.

MC: (sighed)

Being vigilant all the time makes me exhausted physically and mentally. Only when I’m in my car, I can breathe a sigh of relief.

My identity will be revealed sooner or later, and once exposed, would Lucien behave like a merchandiser who is pushing goods, showing me a touch of kindness?

Do I really have a fluke with Lucien like the whistle said?

I opened my eyes and slowly spread out my palms.

In the palm of my hand is the little note I just stole from Lucien.

There was a line written on it: Snow Fox is in the car, be careful.

At the moment when I saw these words, all kinds of scenes flashed past my eyes quickly.

Lucien: After all, an excellent hunter wants to lure the "snow fox" out of the hole, and it can't do without enough delicious bait.

Lucien: Haven't you noticed that you like ink? You are a very important person to me.

Could it be that... Lucien discovered that I was an organizer and wanted to use me as a bait to draw out the "Snow Fox"?!

Since this is the case, should I act first to be the best-obey Mr. Snow Fox's order and kill Lucien.

Snow Fox , Lucien...All the emotions in my heart are like a tangled mess. I can't help but reach out to the suitcase by the bed.

Across the wall of the box, the "Awakening" lay quietly there.

After a long time, I took a deep breath, sat up from the bed, and started preparing for the action tonight.

I first took out the wireless transmitter hidden in the suitcase and told the whistle that Lucien and I would have dinner in the dining car tonight.

Then quickly took off the pink dress and put on a purple cheongsam. Opened the secret compartment of the suitcase, took out a pistol from the inside and tied it to my thigh.

While putting on makeup, there was a knock from a subordinate outside the door.

Subordinate: Miss MC, Mr. Lucien is already waiting for you in the restaurant.

MC: Got it, tell Mr. Lucien that I will be there soon.

I put the lipstick back in the box and was about to get up when the light from the corner of my eye suddenly swept over something on the table.

It was the white handkerchief Lucien wrapped around my finger when I lied about being scalded.

When I returned to the car, I put it on the dressing table and didn't move it again.

Lucien's handkerchief is as simple as his clothes, and there is no other pattern except for the embroidered mark of his name on the corner of the handkerchief.

The moment I saw the handkerchief, Lucien's abrupt eyes suddenly appeared in my mind.

Why does a rumored "Mr. Lucien" who is obsessed with power and cruel, has such a pair of calm and sober eyes?

Obviously in my imagination countless times, only the "Mr. Snow Fox" in my mind would have such eyes.

MC: Mr. Lucien... is it really just Mr. Lucien?

I was shocked by the nonsense that I blurted out, and I took a step back abruptly.

I was a little flustered inexplicably. Just about to put away the handkerchief, my fingers suddenly felt strange bumps on the silk surface.

MC: Hmm??

I looked down and found that beside Lucien's name, there was a Morse code embroidered with silk threads of the same color.

I held my breath and fumbled for the code with my fingers, and finally found that they formed a words.

MC: My shimmer?

The setting sun outside the window was sinking, and the fluent sunset glow was gradually replaced by the night.

The lights are lit on each train, and the train shuttles through the mountains and forests like a golden dragon.

When I arrived in the restaurant, Lucien was still writing a letter at the table by the window.

When he saw me, he put away the half-written letter and smiled at me.

Tonight, instead of wearing the daytime gown, he changed into a slim-fitting suit, and his temperament became more capable and chic.

MC: Sorry to let Mr. Lucien wait for a long time.

Lucien: Compared to Cowherd who can solve the pain of lovesickness only once a year, I only waited a while for "Little Weaver Girl", considered to be very lucky.

Lucien: Have a seat

He opened the table seat for me, and I took a seat happily.

Lucien: How have you been on the train these days?

MC: Mr. Lucien seems to ask me this every day.

Lucien: Do you think I'm long-winded?

MC: No, this is your thoughtfulness, I like it very much, and I have had a good time these days.

MC: Even too comfortable, I don't want to get out of the train

Lucien: This is bad.

MC: What's wrong?

Lucien: After eating this dinner, we are almost arrived at the station. If MC don't want to get off the train, I can only use other methods to get you off.

I quickly glanced at the closed door of the dining car, settled, poured a glass of wine, and continued to laugh with Lucien

MC: What other method does Mr. Lucien want to use?

Lucien: It depends on what approach Miss MC likes.

MC: Me, of course I want more....

Before I finished speaking, the ground suddenly shook! A hot air wave overturned the railroad tracks and hit the carriage!

Before I had time to react, I felt like the sky was spinning.

The next second, I fell into a warm embrace.

Lucien: Ugh...!

Lucien held me firmly in his arms, but his whole body was knocked to the ground by the air wave.

The world in the carriage was upside down, and Lucien's letters and official documents on the table were scattered all over the

The ornate decorations turned into fragments, and the wine in the glass was spilled on the brocade like drips of red blood.

The disaster came without warning, and the steel giant leaned on the rails, uttering a heavy mournful cry.

I turned my face to look at the mess on the ground. The crying and screams from the front and rear carriages made my brain go blank.

MC: What exactly is going on...

Lucien: The train was blown up. It should be coming for me.

Lucien took me up with one hand, and with the other hand drew the pistol from his back.

The explosion plunged the train into chaos, and Lucien's subordinates was at the other carriages and it was too late to arrive.

He turned around and looked at the exit of the carriage warily, while admonishing me.

Lucien: MC, If the other party wants to cut the grass and roots, it is estimated that they will take the opportunity to return to the restaurant to confirm my life and death, you have to be careful....

The words after were swallowed back, because a gun was hitting his abdomen at the moment.

MC: Don't move.

Lucien's gaze moved up from the muzzle a little bit, fell to the hand of my gun, and finally stopped on my face.

For the first time, his eternally calm eyes rippled, and his lips opened slightly, and then he pressed tightly again.

In the next second, a smile suddenly appeared at the corner of his mouth.

Lucien: Miss MC wants to kill me.

Lucien's somewhat helpless expression made me feel embarrassed, as if I was just a little girl making trouble with her lover unreasonably.

MC: Why are you laughing?

Lucien: Nothing, the other side of MC really surprised me and couldn't help but laugh.

I glanced at him and opened his tie with the muzzle of my gun.

Then freed his other hand and groped his waist and chest roughly to make sure that there were no other weapons or wiretapping on him.

And Lucien opened his hands very cooperatively, as if he was at my disposal.

After searching, I glanced at the door again before turning my gaze back to Lucien.

MC: Mr. Lucien, before killing you, I want to ask you a question.

My fingers slowly touched his heart, and said word by word with an voice that only the two of us could hear.

MC: (Do you believe I will be shimmer?)

Lucien's eyes were suddenly bright, and he also answered me with his mouth.

Lucien: (From beginning to end.)

Bang!!

The moment his voice fell to the ground, I shot.

Lucien also slowly fell to the ground under the gunshot.

MC: ....

Holding the gun tightly, I kept my eyes locked on the doorway of the squeezed carriage.

Finally, after a while, a figure appeared at the door.

MC: Whistle..

Whistle: MC? You didn't...

MC: I was lucky, and it happened to be blocked by the sofa when it exploded.

Whistle: Y-Yes...what about Lucien?

MC: Didn't you hear the gunshot just now, I've finished him.

MC: Whistle, You seem to have expected this explosion?

The whistle glanced at Lucien, who was motionless, then glanced at me, his mouth suddenly grinned from an arrogant angle.

Whistle: Of course, this is my plan.

As he said, the hand of the whistle rose sharply, and the black hole pointed straight at me.

Whistle: Because you and "Snow Fox" both have to die.

However, before he had time to pull the triggerㅡ bang! A gunshot sounded faster!

Lucien: Finally bit the bait.

Lucien, who was lying on the ground, opened his eyes. He slowly sat up with a gun in one hand, looking at the whistle for an instant.

Whistle: You..

The man's eyes were full of things, his shrunken pupils were printed with the figure of me and Lucien standing side by side.

When he was about to attack again, the sound of footsteps came from both ends of the dining car. Lucien's subordinates who had survived the explosion finally rushed over and subdued him to the ground.

Subordinate: Mr. Lucien, are you okay!

Lucien: I'm fine.

Lucien: Apart from this person, there must be other pests in this train. Clean it up immediately.

Lucien: Also, immediately contact the headquarters and the nearest hospital, check the conditions of the front and rear carriages, and take all passengers out of here.

Subordinate: But you...

Lucien: Hurry up.

The subordinates' throats stagnated, and they didn't dare to defy him, dragging the seriously injured whistles towards the two carriages.

There were only two of us in the carriage at this moment, and Lucien turned his eyes back to me after watching the last subordinate leave.

Lucien: I just saw, Miss MC's acting is a little bit flamboyant, and she still needs a lot of polishing.

I didn't reply immediately, just stared at Lucien firmly.

At this moment, Lucien's face was strangely clear in the twilight, eyebrows, lips, cheeks... finally merged with "Snow Fox".

MC: ...Mr. Snow Fox's acting skills are outstanding, and the little girl is deeply impressed.

Lucien smiled deeper, and he carefully helped me straighten my temples.

Lucien: When did you discover that the whistle had a problem?

MC: From the beginning. When he faked "Snow Fox" orders and asked me to assassinate you, I began to doubt him.

MC: But at that time I was still not sure about his motives, then...

I took out the handkerchief, and picked up the letters scattered on the ground—the writing on it was exactly the same as the writing in "The Awakening" message.

MC: Did you also find out that there is a problem with the whistle from the beginning?

Lucien shook his head.

Lucien: No. I only found out that he had betrayed the organization and he also found out that I was Snow Fox.

MC: Then when you first got in the car, you said you wanted to get rid of "Snow Fox"....

Lucien: In addition to the whistle, there are other inner ghosts.

Lucien: I arranged this train and wanted to use this excuse to catch them all.

Lucien: But I didn't expect these people to blow up the train in order to get rid of me.

This is a journey of life and death. In the confrontation between righteousness and evil, everyone's identities are constantly changing.

Everyone feels that he is a hunter and the other is a prey. Lucien the Snow Fox. Whistle the traitor.

ㅡOnce Lucien dies on the train, the entire Loveland City may face a bloody storm.

When Lucien said this, his voice became more and more apologetic.

Lucien: I insisted on taking you in the train, because I was afraid that you would be silenced by the whistle while I was away. As a result, I almost made you fall into danger with me. Sorry.

MC: I am not afraid of danger, darkness must accompany danger, I just... a little angry.

Lucien: Why are you angry?

I blushed, and finally threw the gun to him, hold my breath to say the words.

MC: You... the big liar who always talks around the bush!

Lucien laughed loudly. The first time I heard him smile so clear, it was like the early morning when the clouds saw the sun.

He took me to the side of the carriage, supported the window with one hand, and dexterously take off from the carriage.

MC: What are we going to do?

Lucien: There is much more to be done.

Lucien: "Snow Fox" can disappear, but Lucien still has to exist.

Lucien: We have to continue this scene until the darkness fades.

He stretched out his hand to me outside the train. I held his hand and felt the solid strength of his arm.

MC: You are talking around the bush again.

Lucien: Hmm... Would you like to hear me say something less convoluted?

MC: Of course I do.

The glow in the distant mountains has long since faded, and the long night is approaching, and the wilderness will rise from the starting point of the firefly.

Lucien's eyes are brighter than stars and fluorescent lights.

He smiled and took me out of the trainㅡ

Lucien: It happens MC for me, it is indeed a very important person

Lucien: I am very satisfied with the result of this blind date, how about you?

--

Notes from me: You’ve done reading~ thank you for always read Lucien’s date~ I really love the interaction between MC and Lucien in this date, the way Lucien always want to protect MC and MC who wants Lucien’s kindness, is really make my heart fluttered. Again, thanks a bunch for everyone, HAPPY QIXI FESTIVAL!  (*≧ω≦*)

#mlqc #mlqc cn #mlqc lucien #lucien #mlqc date #mlqc translation

[ts3casconversioncatalog]

Update 2022/03/26

Fixed bad links for: Dissolving Denim, Vamp Neckline Blouse (thank you @ktarsims!)

Maternity tags for males and females now added to all posts!

Currently working on a way to post the Other Conversions page as regular posts. Will try to space them out in order to avoid spamming everyone’s dashboards. If you can provide the 256x256 THUM resources for the packs I’m missing (ITF, all SPs aside from HELS), that would make the catalog look even better! Please DM me if you can send them to me 😊 Thank you @ktarsims for helping me with this!! 💚

Added:

TF/AF versions to: Flourish and Fleur.

AF/EF versions to: Waist Not Dress.

TF version to: Foxy Lady Zip-up Jumper.

EF version to: The Bowie.

TAEF separated scarf accesssory from Long Scarf is Long.

CU & TAEU edits to: Knock ‘Em Out.

AF edits to: Canal Street Blues.

AM edits to: City Storm Casual Shirt.

AM separated garter socks to: Newspaper Zombie Suit Male.

AM frankenmesh of Crisp Coat and Gloves and Blazer and Turtleneck Combo.

Other conversions:

Expansion packs: Basegame AM Denim jacket & pizza delivery outfit with turtleneck sweater, Late Night AM Bartender top separated from outfit, Showtime AM shorts slimmed, Supernatural AM trenchcoat with shirt and tie (all by nectar-cellar); University Life AM Graffiti Hoodie edit (sweetdevil-sims); Basegame AF&AM Fitted Tank as Accessory (Camkitty).

#sims 3 store #TS3CCCnews #mashup #separates